"How's your leg doing?" Marcus asked as his arm draped lazily over the steering wheel.

I sighed dramatically, "You know, I really thought surgery was in my near future, but it's feeling okay. Don't rule out amputation yet."

Marcus smiled, shaking his head slightly before turning the steering wheel into a Walmart parking lot.

"What are we doing here?"

"You know more than anyone that I need new mugs, Maybie," Marcus responded, shutting off the engine and stepping out of his truck. He walked around the vehicle to open my door, holding out his hand for me.

"I suppose I can risk infection in my leg to help you choose a cheesy cup. I get full say though and no vetos." I grabbed onto his hand and he held most of my weight as I climbed out of the truck, trying not to put all of my weight on my leg.

"I definitely do not agree to that."

"I can't hear you over my pain," I retorted, adding an extra wobble into my step for added measure.

We walked into the store and into the kitchen section and I grabbed a yellow mug the size of my face, holding it out excitedly. "-No," Marcus rolled his eyes grabbing it from my hands and placing it back on the shelf as I pouted. "Actually, I need a new dog food bowl, give it back."

My eyebrows shot up, "You have a dog?! How do I not know this?"

"He lives with my grandpa most of the time because of my overnight shifts at the station. Don't get too attached, my grandpa's having a hard time looking after him so I don't know how I'm going to keep him," he frowned, but grabbed the toilet bowl mug and put it in the cart.

"Okay, you can't say no to this." I held up a pink donut shaped cup with sprinkles. I'd drink coffee from it everyday. Hell, I'd happily drink my parents' disgusting vitamin supplement smoothie that they shoved down my throat everyday in this cup.

"I'm never drinking out of that," Marcus argued, putting a few plain white mugs into the cart.

"Get it for me then so I don't have to drink out of those lame mugs."

"Lame?" He protested, holding the cup close to his chest. "How dare you. These are timeless. Classic."

"Boring."

He squinted his eyes at me before sighing, "Fine. One only."

I grinned tossing the cup into the cart happily. My incredible talent of wearing people down slowly over time was paying off yet again. Some might call it a super power. Others might call it extremely annoying.

"Marcus?" I turned to see a man who looked to be in his late twenties, wearing a button down shirt and slacks.

"E-Ethan," Marcus stuttered, his fingers clasping the cart so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He cleared his throat, "How are you?"

Ethan's eyes darted to me for a moment, his face set in a sneer and I recoiled back without knowing why, slipping a little behind Marcus's body so I wasn't so visible. "You're playing house while my sister's six feet under?"

"Ethan..." Marcus trailed uncomfortably.

"After everything you did? After you killed her?" Ethan seethed. "I can't do this," He growled, shaking his head before turning around and walking away.

Marcus stood without moving a muscle, just staring at Ethan's retreating figure. Once his eyes almost looked glassy, I decided to intervene. "Everything okay, Marcus?"

He cleared his throat without looking at me, "Yeah. Fine. We should go." He pushed the cart forward without a glance back and I picked up my pace to keep up with him.

He left the buggy in the store and we got back to his truck. Marcus was deadly silent. His eyes looked so far away.

"That was girlfriend's brother?" I pried. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. But there seemed to be so much more to the story.

Marcus nodded, his eyes focused on the road ahead of us, both hands clutched onto the steering wheel. His demeanour was so much different than it had been just a half hour ago. I missed that Marcus.

"Why does he blame you for her death?" I blurted. He needed to talk to someone after all. It wasn't healthy to bottle things up and I got the feeling that Marcus was very good at doing just that.

"Because it was my fault," Came his curt reply.

I clamped my lips together. We continued to ride in absolute, deafening silence. It was killing me. My brain was racing. Was he an actual murderer? No. Marcus was as innocent as a rabbit. A sexually active rabbit.

He pulled up at our apartment and put the truck in park. "You okay to get up by yourself? I'm going back to the station."

I nodded, placing my hand on the door before slowly retracting it back. I looked up at his stoic face. I hated that expression. I missed his smile. "I know you don't want to talk about it and that's fine. But I want you to know that there's not a single ounce of me that believes that you had anything to do with killing her. Because you're the kindest person I've ever met. I mean, you can stand me which says a lot about your tolerance levels," I admitted and he chuckled lightly, still not looking at me. "I just want you know that I'm here if you want to talk or if you want to sit in complete mind numbing silence."

He finally shifted his gaze to me for a moment, a tiny smile lifting one side of his lips. "Thanks," he whispered.

I nodded, opening the door and jumping out, before making my way inside my apartment. As I opened the lobby door, I heard the rev of Marcus's truck and knew he had taken off.

I unlocked the door to my apartment and fell onto my couch in a huff. My phone buzzed and I pulled it out of my pocket.

Jackson: Hey, you've been on my mind a lot lately. Want to grab dinner Saturday night?

My mouth fell open as I stared at the screen. I couldn't believe he had texted me. I couldn't believe he remembered me. But most of all, what was mostly on my mind was how much I wanted to tell Marcus right now.

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and I made my way back out of the apartment. I needed to do something for Marcus. He'd been such a good friend to me and I loved doing anything with him - watching tv, wearing face masks, getting pizza. Everything with him was fun. It was easy.

I caught the bus and made my way back to the Walmart. I filled my cart with the gigantic yellow mug, a water bowl, a leash, and a large fluffy bed. I piled it all into two huge bags that I then headed back onto the bus.

As I arrived back at the apartment, I organized my purchases in my apartment. Just as I was beginning to doubt this entire idea, (was I completely stepping on his toes here? He did say I wasn't sane enough to take care of children, what made his dog any different?) I heard Marcus's keys jingle next door.

I dashed to the door and opened it to see Marcus's figure about to enter his apartment. "Marcus!" I screeched a little too loudly, which caused him to jump backwards in shock.

"Jeez, Mabel. You scared the shit out of me," He whispered. "What are you still doing up? It's two in the morning."

"Is it? I didn't realize," I admitted. "I wanted to show you something."

He raised an eyebrow, "Okay," He trailed suspiciously walking towards me.

I put a hand out and placed it onto his chest, stopping him first. "Before you come in, I just want to preface this by saying I thought this was a good idea at the time, but if you hate it or hate the thought of me doing it, just say it. Or don't say anything at all. In fact, let's come up with a signal so we can have a non-verbal-"

"-Mabel," Marcus interrupted, "Just open the door."

I bounced on my feet, half nervousness, half excitement and opened the door, leading Marcus inside. I scratched the back of my head, "Um, I was just thinking that you could leave your dog here when you're working your overnight shifts. And before you say anything, I love dogs. I used to be a dog walker. Well, I walked one dog when I was fourteen. I think I was pretty good at it. I have a reference - oof."

I was cut off suddenly when Marcus's arms wrapped around me and pulled me so tightly to his body that I could feel every muscle, every thump of his quickly beating heart. I wrapped my arms around his torso, happy that he seemed to be happy.

And we stood there. Because sometimes you need a hug.