"J-Just hear me out- P-Please!"

Scott frowned, his head pounding and throbbing like nothing else. He felt sick. Really sick. What kind of a hangover was this?

"Vincent, I-I'm begging you, please!"

Scott groaned, clapping his hands over his ears. What the hell was going on? Why was everything so loud? He pulled his gluey eyes open, but he couldn't see a thing. Everything was blurry.

He heard a sharp gasp from across the room, followed by a whimper, "P-Please don't do this... Please. I'm so close. So close to being free at last..."

"Shut up, mutt," A voice snarled. "You should have thought of that before you screwed my boyfriend."

Wait a moment. That voice. Scott knew that voice. That voice was... was...

He shot up straight in the - he was in a bed? - clutching the sheets to his - bare?! - chest. The pain in his head hit him like a whip cracking on his skull, and he had to pause with his hands clutching at his hair.

There was a hiss from across the room, as if in pain, and Scott blinked his foggy eyes and looked over. As the blurriness cleared, the scene before him unfolded. Oliver was pinned to the wall, looking nothing short of terrified out of his wits. Vincent was the one pinning him there. Scott couldn't see his face, but he did not seem happy.

That was when Scott saw a sliver of silver pressed against Oliver's throat. A bead of dark red blood trickled over it, dropping off the edge of the knife onto the floor. Oliver squeaked in pain, fright or a combination of both.

"Vincent!" Scott shouted. His voice sounded weak and hoarse. "Vincent, what are you doing?!"

He saw Vincent stiffen, becoming rigid. "Stay out of this, Scott," His voice was deep and threatening. "I'll deal with you next."

"B-But...!" Scott spluttered helplessly, "But you could hurt him, Vincent! Y-You might even... even kill him!"

Vincent's eyes widened a little, Scott's naivety beginning a fluttering in his chest. Shaking it off, he narrowed his eyes again. "I'm sure you'd hate that."

"Well... well of course I would, but I'd hate even more you having to live with the knowledge that you ever killed someone," Scott insisted, his voice taking on a kinder tone.

Vincent paused, the knife discontinuing to dig into Oliver's throat. The fluttering in his heart returned. He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes once more, "Shut up, Scott."

"I'm jus-"

"Shut up, Scott!" Vincent growled. He pulled the knife away from Oliver's throat and threw it across the room. Scott yelped and ducked as it swung past him and landed like a dart in the wall.

Oliver sunk to his knees immediately, clutching his hands to his neck and spewing out prayers. "Gracias, Dios, por hacer de Scott despertar y salvar mi vida. Gracias, Dios, por lo que me permite seguir viviendo. Gracias, Dios, por dar una puta como yo una segunda oportunidad. Gracias, Dio-"

Vincent suddenly swung up his leg with a fit of anger, kicking Oliver in the head. Oliver crumpled, the light disappearing from his emerald eyes as he fell limply forward.

Scott gasped, clapping a hand over his mouth, "No... Oliver..."

"He's alive," Vincent said calmly, giving another kick to Ollie's limp body for good measure. "He's like a cockroach. Impossible to kill."

Vincent finally turned to face Scott. His face was ominously expressionless. "Get out of bed."

"Vincent... what... what happened last night?" Scott breathed, looking down at himself. He realised the button on his pants was undone, and his fly zipped down. "What the...?"

"I said, get out," Vincent growled, grabbing Scott under the arms and yanking him up to his feet suddenly. Scott yelped at the sharp pain inside his head, and only just had time to get balanced before Vincent let go of him again, leaning over the bed instead.

"What are yo-"

"Here," Vincent threw his shirt at him, "Put this on and - for goodness' sakes - zip up your pants."

Scott gulped, feeling very intimidated. He pulled his shirt over his head (backwards) and re-buttoned his skinny jeans. The moment his clothes were on, Vincent grabbed his arm again and marched him out of the room, ignoring Scott's protests of "Wait! But, Oliver-!"

Scott whimpered slightly. He was tired, he felt like trash, he wanted to throw up, his best friend had just almost been killed, his boyfriend was mad at him and he didn't even know what was going on.

Vincent pulled Scott outside into the carpark, and Scott shivered violently. The sky was just getting light, it must have been 4am at least. He hugged his arms close to his body and tried not to sniffle. The only source of warmth were from the tears building up in his eyes.

Vincent let go of him to walk over to his car and unlock it. He opened the passenger seat door, "Get in the car, honey." His voice wasn't entirely 'mean', but it wasn't friendly. It was just... cold.

Scott nodded, holding in another snivelling whimper. He walked forward slowly, looking away from Vincent so as not to have to face him. Reaching the car, he slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. His head throbbed in the silence.

 Vincent opened his car door and sat in the driver's seat adjacent to him. He started the car without a word and began the drive back to... wherever Vincent was going. He hoped it was Vin's house. He just wanted to snuggle up with his boyfriend and cry and cry and cry until this whole thing was all forgotten.

"Can't you just tell me what happened last night?" He asked finally, his voice cracking.

Vincent smiled slightly. It was not a friendly smile, "I'll tell you what happened last night, honey. You dragged that Mexican whore to bed with you."

Scott's eyes widened, "I... I slept with Oliver?"

"Mhm~," Vincent looked ahead as he drove, not saying anything more.

Scott felt his heart drop to his stomach. He slept with Oliver? He slept with Oliver?! No wonder Vincent was so mad! He slept with Oliver! He couldn't believe it. He couldn't remember it at all; nothing! Not a single kiss, nor anybody touching him anywhere, much less somehow getting into bed with him!

The rest of the car ride was silent, with Vincent concentrating on the road and Scott feeling a deep, hopeless sense of sadness swallow him whole, seeming to reside right in the darkest part of his heart, slowly eating away at him.

Finally, the car stopped outside of Scott's house. Scott looked out the window, then back at Vincent, "You coming in?"

"There's something I wanna know," Vincent ignored his question, still staring ahead. His voice didn't seem angry, almost... normal.

"Of course," Scott said, relaxing slightly and turning to face Vincent.

"You understand why I'm angry, don't you, Scott?" Vincent asked, his voice as cool and even as ever. "I trusted you. I believed you. I let you invite him along, I even let you dance with him - told you it was okay if he kissed you. Because I knew. You're a man of your word."

Scott swallowed, feeling guilt pile onto him, oozing into the parts of his heart that weren't damaged with sadness already.

"I guess you must have had a good reason to do what you did. Naturally, I wouldn't assume you just did it because you wanted Ollie to do it to you. That would be ridiculous," Vincent's tone implied, however, that this was exactly what he was indeed thinking. "I just find it kind of funny that you're so reluctant to trust me, to be close to me, to let me touch you... and yet - with almost a complete stranger - you couldn't care less."

Scott flinched, his shoulders slumping and his brown eyes widening, "Bu-"

"Are you disgusted by me? Is that it? Is it just that the thought of having me sleep with you is so utterly repulsive that you couldn't even work up the guts to share a bed with me until a week ago?" Vincent asked. "Is it something you and Oliver laughed about while you did it?"

"No," Scott tried to protest, his voice faint and wavering, "Vi-"

"I guess it's karma for me. I outed you in front of your workmates. I suppose I deserved having my own heart broken in return."

"Vinc-!"

"Don't try to explain, Scott," Vincent turned to look at him. "Your 'word' means nothing to me, anymore. Get out of my car."

Scott's mouth fell open slightly, he let out a sob, "Is this a... Are you... D-Did you just... b-break up with me?!"

"Scott, I broke up with you as soon as I realised you were missing. Now get out of my car," Vincent said calmly.

Scott mewled slightly, tears beginning to fall from his eyes. He took off his seatbelt and, with fumbling, numb fingers, opened the car door and stepped outside. He closed the door after him, and Vincent drove away.

**Translation: Oliver's prayers.**

"Thank you, God, for making Scott wake up and save my life. Thank you, God, for allowing me to live. Thank you, God, for giving a slut like me a second chance. Thank you, G-"