Marco felt his mind drifting off as Ford went on, rambling. If this was a lecture or some sort of story, it was long. His body wouldn't seem to find peace in the cold basement and stiff chair he sat in for - what seemed like - an hour. He wanted to keep his aching bones relaxed, but thought the only way to do so was to go back upstairs and lay down. Marco would continuously slip in and out of consciousness as Ford spoke to him, picking up only fragments of his speech. "That was a risky move trusting Bill, boy." He said, turning back around to face the fourteen-year-old. "Although, technically, I can't blame it on you. Bill Cipher is manipulative. He tricks you into making deals with you by using your desires to do so."

"Why?" Marco finally asked. "What did he want?"

"Simple." Ford responded, picking up the rift with gentle care. "This - an interdimensional rift that can tear our universe apart. It could be the end of the world if we don't keep it contained in this globe. I disassembled the portal, unfortunately, to keep us safe." He turned to the right now, gazing upon the portal's remains through the work station's window. Marco peered through it the best he could, only to get a sharp pain in his back.

"Wait, you did what?! Agh!" He fell, without ease, back into the swivel chair with Ford's hand hovering to him, as if to want to help Marco sit back without hurting himself again.

"Hey, woah." He urged. "Take it easy. You need to rest." Before coming to his aid, Ford took the rift in his hands and put it back into the cabinet where he had left it. "Listen, Marco. I don't want you or any of the other kids down here from now on. Understood?"

"B-but the portal-" Marco objected.

"I'm sorry. I really am. There was no other way. I tried everything-"

No matter how much it pained him to stand, Marco fought it. Ford saw the fury burning in Marco's eyes and knew he was going to argue. "No!"

"Marco, my boy-"

"I said, 'no'! You did nothing! Star and I have been stuck in this mess for days now and the last thing we need is this!"

Ford was struck with no comeback. He was glued in his position with widened eyes. The tears in the poor fourteen-year-old's eyes were peeking out. Marco was so overcome with distraught, he couldn't stand to even lay an eye on the old, selfish man in front of him.

"No wonder Stan hates you." Marco let his sentence slip through his lips and under his breath. "You only think about yourself." Quickly, he attempted to gather up his strength and make it to the elevator doors. He kept hold of the wall of machinery with one arm while clutching the other to his stomach in pain. Everytime he took in a deep and steady breath, it was discontinued with a short, shaky one due to the sharpness of the pain. Within three steps, Marco fell flat. His knees met the floor in half a second and the noise of the ruckus made Ford desperately wanted to give him a hand.

"Marco, you need help. Just let me-"

"No!" Marco snapped back in between a breath.

"Now, you're just being ridiculous. Come here." Ford picked Marco off the ground as if he were a stray puppy on the side of the street and the fourteen-year-old didn't resist. Ford let Marco put his arm on his shoulder and together they walked to the elevator and back to the gift shop.

Ford brought the boy to get settled on the couch in his own room. Every time they reached stairs, Marco couldn't even make it past the first step without his foot slipping and his vision going too blurry so Ford would offer to carry him up. Marco didn't reject it, considering how exhausted he was.

"You can rest for the night in my room. I'll be right next to you if you need anything." Ford mumbled, feeling the awkwardness of Marco's fight still lingering.

As Marco passed by the doorway of the living room to get to the staircase, he saw vibrant blue eyes meet his from the living room. There, was Star, squeezed into the couch's space. Except, her eyes were not her own. They were hard and cold on him, making him feel guilty, yet he didn't know why. He didn't do anything.

Did he?

With Star watching him, Marco knew she could see how defeated and battered he was. Yet, she said nothing. Her eyes averted and she flipped the other way, facing the couch.