He slept in that morning. He was awake, but stayed under his covers and listened to the muffled noise of the rain pattering against the windows outside. His sister was at the dining room table eating her breakfast. The drapes and blinds in the room were still closed, shutting out any light that might stream in to blind him. Regan was waiting to go on a stroll with him around the house, umbrella, raincoat, sweater and all. He did like the rain. He still didn't want to get up, though. 

He was soon outside, a half-eaten breakfast in his stomach and an umbrella in his hand as he walked along the path of dirt made around the house and the barn. He could feel each drop of rain soak his feet, and he could feel them sinking into the mud ever so slightly as his sister followed him closely, her hood up to protect her hair from the downpour. The sound of the rain left him in near bliss and he watched as his footprints pressed into the thin dirt, only to be filled with more mud as he walked. The clouds were a dome of dark gray, and the sun was completely clouded over, leaving them in a subtle early morning darkness. 

Marcus could hear the loud plop of the rain on the fabric of his umbrella, staring down at his feet as he walked, his hair only gently sprayed with water. It was misty. It took his mind off of life, but it didn't take his mind off of his feelings. They walked past the repair pavilion, and Marcus stopped. He blinked a few times, then looked up, staring across at the corn field. He could hear the slosh of Regan’s feet, picking up then setting down in the squishy, muddy earth as she caught up and looked over at him. Marcus stood still, shedding only a single tear. “I just- I love you! I-” he choked on his sobs in the pouring rain as his sister stood, watching him, unable to hear but understood he was having an outburst. “I wish you were here. I wish you’d love me back. You're just barely a memory. Your voice. It's drifting away. Your-” he rubbed his eyes and pushed away the drenched hair that was in his face. “Your wonderful, stupid face…” he laughed a bit and sobbed as his voice drifted into a soft whisper. “Just...Pretend he’s not there. I never met him. Jay? Who’s he?” Marcus slid the umbrella closed and threw it to the ground, mud splattering all over it. He let the rain take him. 

A monster was lingering around in the corn fields. “Marcus- The car.” his sister muttered under her breath and pointed towards the abandoned truck. They silently trudged over to the car and he climbed in through the window to the front seat, settling down to rest his head against the seat. Regan climbed in through the passenger seat window and took a seat, grabbing a blanket from under her feet to hand it to Marcus. Marcus looked around, his hair and entire body soaked in early morning rain. He took the blanket and patted down his body before settling into a curled up seated position on the car cushions to close his eyes and try to calm down. He had had an outburst and it startled a monster nearby. Did he want to die? “Would it matter if I did?” he whispered to himself and looked down at his lap.

Regan placed a hand on Marcus’ shoulder as he rolled up the window, shutting off the wind, the rain, and muffling the howl and cry of the outdoor weather. There wasnt heating in the car because it wasn't on, but they each had their own blanket. Marcus faced the window beside him. He needed some space. Yet again, he always just needed some space. He didn't really want to get up that morning either. It just wasn't worth it. The wrap around his ankle and foot was already wet and muddy, damp and peeling off. Needed to be replaced. Marcus had brought his sketchbook out, and it was hidden under his coat, tucked in with a pencil stuck through the binding. “What’s wrong?” she asked as Marcus pulled the sketchbook out and looked down. “What should I draw?” he asked, looking over at her, a tired and groggy look in his eye. She crossed her arms. “I’m concerned for you, Marcus. You're my brother, and something's wrong. An outburst that could have killed you is not normal. I know you. You're more cautious than anyone.” She was upset because he wasn't telling her anything. “I’m fine, okay?” He signed, raising his eyebrows as he assured her. She grabbed both his hands and looked at him dead in the eye. He looked away from her. “You know that- That boy…” he said softly. He looked down at his lap. He didn't want to have to say it. To his sister, especially. He imagined his parents finding out. They would have to some day, but- “That boy? The one who found you, you mean?” Marcus looked over at her, wiping a bit of his damp hair out of his face. “I- He didn't just find me… We had been hanging out together for a long time. I mean...For at least a month and a half.” he didn't want to remember how confused and scared he had been when he had been scavenging the forest and the property for his friend, only to fall into the hands of a trap. “Regan, i’m-” Regan stared at him, her brow furrowed. She held his hand with both of hers, blinking with worry and curiosity. “Gay.” he signalled, not daring to look over at her. He mouthed the words, “I’m gay,” then looked over at her, a timid look on his face. “Oh, Marcus.” He shed a tear as Regan took him into a tender and comforting embrace. He began to cry softly into his sister’s shoulder, not wanting to let himself go. Soon, he did pull away, and he fell into the seat and hugged the blanket around his body, his sketchbook falling to the floor of the car along with his dull Ticonderoga pencil. What was the use of a dull pencil if he wanted to draw? He rubbed his eyes and sniffled, the heat in his face returning. His throat was still sore, still dry, and he just wasn't feeling it. Still overwhelmingly tired, and his thirst just seemed to take over. He turned himself towards her and curled up, still in a seated position but his legs pulled up to his chest, and his head against the cushion of the driver’s seat. “I never really liked girls.” In truth, he never really liked anyone. He was just always so unsure. Why did people want a girlfriend, or, why did people want a boyfriend? He was so clueless. Not exactly questioning up until he met Jay. He didn't really question, he sort of just… He wanted friends. Sure, he had plenty of those. He just didn't feel like he belonged in a love relationship. Regan grabbed his hands again, gently stroking it as to comfort him. She could see the sad feeling in Marcus’ tired eyes. “I mean… there were some cute guys, you know, but I was little. First year of middle school. I didn't know that I liked them, per se. I kinda just wanted to be really good friends with them. I wanted to spend more time with them. Now I'm older, and you know. Everything with this, and being quiet… All those confusing feelings just drained out of me… But they returned. I figured myself out, and I can't just lose that. I can’t lose my single chance of having…” he set his hands down and peered down, the tears coming back as he explained to her his confusions in signs. “He’s the only one left and I can't just lose him.” He wasn't some kid anymore. He needed something more than a friend more than anything so he could feel safe and the quiet, empty, lonely space inside of him would fill up with love for his ‘more than a friend,’ Jay. He had grown and matured and understood the significance of love now. “I want to visit the library. The in-town library.” he told her, grimacing a bit as he moved his injured foot down to the floor of the car to rest. “No, Marcus. You- You can’t. I’ll bring something back for you. Anything. Just tell me what to look for.” Marcus frowned. “You- you’re just like mom and dad. Worried- worried I might fall into another bear trap or something. I’m fourteen, Regan. You think you could just cut down on the worrying about me. I’m fine. I mean look-” he lifted his foot up and unraveled the soggy white bandage material, revealing the cleaned up springlock wounds that were scabbed over and painfully bruised in a ring around his ankle. “Marcus.” he heard her whisper in a subtle, quiet voice. “Put it. Back. On.” She had to enunciate, and her sentences were choppy, but she could speak, and she only did it when she was really urgent. Marcus gave her an annoyed, and a mildly angered look, which was exceedingly rare for him and pulled the bandage entirely away from the wound. “No, because I don't need it. Sure, I might limp and if you want to go through all the labor to make me a pair of crutches, fine. You go do that. I’m going to the library.” The memory of Jay first using his crutches drifted into his mind, and he immediately covered his face with his hands and began to sob. His face. That lovely, beautiful, stupid amazing grin on his lips when Jay had seen how happy he was when he first tried them out. It was a blur now, like a ripple on the surface of a pond, hiding the reflection. Marcus had just been so proud of himself, and he knew Jay had been proud of him too. “I’m not like mom and dad.” she whispered, frowning a bit as she pointed towards the house then crossed her arms, Marcus wiping his eyes once more to look at her and understand her over the wind and rain, thankfully muffled from the inside of the abandoned truck.