Four weeks past.

As soon as Marco could walk, he left the hospital. He was still unsteady and thin, his arm in a heavy cast, the stab wound in his stomach still bandaged... but he was going to make a full recovery. It helped that he was now part demon and, therefore, semi-immortal: he would die, eventually, but it would take more than a knife to the stomach to tear apart demon flesh so it couldn't regenerate.

To celebrate his recovery, Mr and Mrs Diaz held a party. They invited everyone from Marco and Star's school and many of Tom's friends from the underworld. This was Star's idea; she thought it would be a good for Marco to spend some time with others like him.

Once everything was set up the house looked wonderful. Huge banners unfurled from every lintel, reading things like 'you did it!' And 'welcome back!'. Bunting and fairy lights criss-crossed the walls. It was like Christmas.

Star wore her prettiest dress and Tom put on his best suit. Fifteen minutes before the guests arrived, Mr Diaz was setting out nibbles and Mrs Diaz was adding finishing touches to the decorations, but Marco wasn't ready.

"Marco?" Star called, knocking on his bedroom door.

"Come in," came the reply.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Marco was sitting on the bed, staring at his suit.

"What's wrong?" Asked Star.

Pause.

"It just... it feels wrong."

"What?" Frowned Star. "What does?"

"Celebrating," said Marco.

Star put her hands on her hips and looked sharply at him.

"What."

"I..." Marco sighed and pulled up his new suit. It had been specially made my a tailor Tom knew so it would fit around his wings. "Look at me, Star," he whispered. "How is this something to be celebrated?"

"You're alive!" Star cried. "That's what we're celebrating."

"I killed two people!" Marco shouted suddenly. He glared at Star, tears in his eyes. "I'm a monster!"

"No, you're not!" Star yelled back. "You're Marco Diaz. And you could have died. But you didn't. That's it. That all we're here to celebrate!"

Marco sort of sagged.

"I'm sorry," he said, in a much quieter voice. "You must think I'm not grateful. I am. I know how close it was. I just... never thought if I were to live, it would be like this." He gestured to his demon body.

"You're acting like it's the end of the world. It'll take some adjusting, but you'll be fine."

Marco took a deep breath and nodded.

"Do you want some help putting on your suit?"

Pause.

"Yes please."

Star crossed the room and took the soft garment out of Marco's hands. It was expertly crafted and sewed together- velvet, the colour of dried blood, laced with golden embroidery and studded with buttons which gleamed. It was a beautiful thing, but Marco didn't think he deserved it.

He felt dirty. Diseased. Trapped in his own crawling skin.

And there was something else: something stupid, he knew- something which amounted to nothing, really, compared to everything that had happened... but he was worried about his relationship with Star. How could it continue when he was like this?

"Star, can I talk to you?" He asked while Star carefully tugged his wings through the back of the shirt.

"You know you can," she laughed.

"OK- ow," he flinched.

"Oh, sorry."

"It's okay... they're just a bit tender."

"I'll be more careful. So what's up?"

"It's about... us," he said.

"What about us?" Star asked through a smile, leaning in and kissing Marco on the neck. Marco shuddered and smiled, but pressed on.

"How can we... I mean, I'm guessing it's over?" 

"Huh, what?" Star snorted. "Why would it be over?"

"Because I'm a monster!" Marco burst out.

Star hit him on the head lightly.

"Shut up and stop being an idiot," she said sternly. "Now roll your shoulders back."

Marco did as he was told and his wings slotted comfortably in his shirt. Star moved onto his jacket, saying,

"Are you forgetting Tom? It didn't bother me that he's a demon. Why would it now?"

"Toms different. He- he's always been a demon. I've got no idea what I'm doing!"

"Hey. Hey, come here," Star said soothingly, securing the jacket then turned to face him. She looked into his new eyes. They gleamed but we're unreadable. "I like your new hair," she whispered, leaning in and winding a finger around an ebony curl. "And your sharp teeth."

"I hope you don't cut yourself," Marco breathed as she leant in and kissed him.

They broke apart and Marco looked away first. Star took his hand.

"Listen to me. I don't give a bloody damn if you're human, demon, Mewman, or any other living thing. Just so long as you're living. I love you and I won't let you beat yourself up about this. Okay?"

Marco nodded.

"Thank you, Star. You're right. It'll just get some getting used to."

"Yeah. Now come on, we need to go meet the guests."

They went down the stairs, hand in hand, and when Star saw Tom she didn't let go.