This part is dedicated to RavenRavona 
Thanks for being such an inspiration to continue writing this :)

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"Finding someone who's willing to drown with you, creates a situation where you no longer want to drown." -Marilyn Manson

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Marilyn: Kyrsten! I loved the picture, but where have you been? It's been a few days since I last heard form you. Is everything okay?
Marilyn: Love? It's been a week. Please call me soon. I miss you.
Marilyn: Kyrsten Torrey pick up the fucking phone! At least text me! It's been two weeks! You were supposed to be home by now! If I don't hear from you, or someone, I'm flying over there! I got the address from the letter. Please... I need you...

Two weeks, and three days after Kyrsten flew back home, Marilyn, Abby, and Miguel were on a plane. Destination? Vermont. Marilyn spent his own money for the tickets, and would be flying into Rutland Regional Airport in Rutland, Vermont. Google Maps had told him it was only a 45 minute drive from the airport to Kyrsten's house. Abby and Miguel were silent, the worst of the worst running through their minds.

While Marilyn, he was praying that Kyrsten didn't meet an old love to only forget all about him.

When they finally landed, Marilyn paid for a rental car. He didn't know the make or model, nor did he care. Without him asking, Abby has already put Kyrsten's home address into the GPS on her phone, and started to give him directions.

45 Minutes later, they were pulling into a hidden driveway on a sharp corner. It was a short driveway, and showed a 2005 black Corvette parked on a patch of grass next to a chocolate brown house with a pool and an off white deck.

"No wonder why she wanted out so bad. This place is in the middle of nowhere. Google says that Rutland is one of the largest cities around. Poor girl." Abby claimed, looking around and noticing nothing but forest around the house, with nothing else but the road in sight.

There was a black Saab parked by the front door, the engine still running, the sound's of Aerosmith's Dream On wafting through the open windows.

Without a second thought, Marilyn parked the rental car, and got out, walking right up to the front door. He didn't even have to knock when a woman threw the door open, a dog barking right behind her. She looks up at him, her eyes red and puffy, as if she had been crying.

"Marilyn Manson, oh gosh. You two must be Abby and Miguel. I'm Shari, Kyrsten's step-mother."

Abby and Miguel whisper their hi's, while Marilyn glare's down at Shari. "Where is she? Is she okay?"

At his questions, Shari starts to cry once more. "You don't know?" He shakes his head, telling her to continue. "She was at a friend's, he got drunk and passed out. She didn't know where his keys were and started walking home. It's only a couple miles, she's done it before." She chokes back a sob. "A d-drunk drive... he h-hit her. T-thank God he was o-only going thirty miles an hour. She's at Dartmouth Hospital in New Hampshire. She's critical. I only came home to get the dog and clothes for her father and I. You can follow me back. She spoke so highly of you three."

Marilyn blinks quickly, trying to stop the tears that want to fall. His heart felt like it was being ripped apart. "We'll follow you." He whispers. She nods before hooking the dog and walking to her car, a large suitcase sitting on the front seat. Abby, Miguel, and Marilyn get back into the rental car. Following Shari as he turns around and leaves the house behind.

Two hours later, the two cars arrived at Dartmouth Hospital. Marilyn made sure to park next to the black Saab, knowing that if he didn't, he wouldn't remember where the rental car was. Shari leads the group, along with the dog, through the hospital, and into a room. The lights were bright, seemingly to almost reflect off of the skin of the pale girl laying on the bed with wires connected all over her body.

Abby gasps and puts her face into Miguel's shoulder. Shari walks over to a man that's sitting next to Kyrsten, his hands covering his face. He's wearing dark green pants and shirt, dirt and dust covering them.

Marilyn walks over to Kyrsten, unable to believe what his eyes were showing him. He places a pale hand on her black hair, her ginger roots starting to show through. "Kyrsten?" He whispers softly, hoping that she would wake up.

The man sitting beside her looks up finally. Shari turns to Marilyn. "I don't think this is how Kyrsten wanted us to meet. Steven, honey, this is Kyrsten's boyfriend, Marilyn Manson. Marilyn, this is Kyrsten's father, Steve." She whispers.

Steve just nods before turning to face his only child. "She's fighting for her life." He whispers. Marilyn's heart only constricts even more at his words.

Marilyn never was good with parental figures, but this time, he would push his nervousness aside, just for Kyrsten's sake.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor fills the silence, Marilyn's eyes tearing up, a few stray ones slipping over his cheeks.

Hours pass, Abby and Miguel went to a hotel down the road, with Shari and Steve following them. Marilyn chose to stay at the hospital, refusing to let go of Kyrsten's hand. For once in his life, he prayed. He prayed and prayed for her safety and return.

"Kyrsten... Please, please don't leave me. Don't leave this world, Abby and Miguel need you, Shari and your father need you. You have already scared me twice before, let's not have the third time be the charm. Please..."

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Days have passed, and still no change. Marilyn hasn't left Kyrsten's side, and though Abby and Shari have brought him food, even his favorite, he couldn't eat. Doctors and nurses had tried to get him to sleep, to no avail. It seemed as though the infamous rock star wanted nothing more than to be by her side.

Some how, it had been leaked to the press that Marilyn's girlfriend was in the hospital. Fan's wished the pair luck, some even prayed for the girl who had captured their idol's heart.

All Marilyn knew, was that he wasn't going to go on tour and leave her here. He had one more week before he had to start cancelling shows. But no one seemed to care.

He knew that Steve never used to like him, Shari had told him so. But the man had warmed up to Marilyn, seeing how distraught he was. Determined to get to know the man, he decided to stay over night at the hospital.

"So Marilyn..." Steve trails off, unsure as to how to talk to the love of his daughter's life. "How did you two meet?"

Marilyn takes a deep breath, knowing his voice will be hoarse. He clears his throat before responding, "I needed my house to be cleaned. Johnny Depp recommended a service that he had. When I called in, Kyrsten answered, though I didn't know that at the time. It wasn't until they came over to clean that I finally met her. I was out of the house when they arrived, but when I came back, I didn't except them to still be there. I had thought my house was clean. Turns out I was wrong.

Kyrsten was working in my bathroom. She was singing one of my songs. I just stood in the doorway watching her, not wanting to interrupt. I was about to leave when she spoke. She had asked what my inspiration was for painting. She didn't act like my other fans. She was calm and collected. It shocked me. Me. A Shock Rocker. I couldn't look past her eyes, which is weird for me since everyone knows I'm the God of Fuck.  

I let her get back to work, and when I went to my living room, she was zoned out like she was in the bathroom. Abby, her friend and owner of the business, was surprised by my visit. I was silent as Abby stared at me, and I stared at Kyrsten. I finally decided to say something, snapping her out of her trance-like state.

We talked a little bit more, about the job, and finally she had to leave. I had told her to call me by my real name, which no one is allowed to call me unless they are really close. After that, the rest is history." Steve just nods in understanding. "What was she like growing up?"

Steve takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it. "She was always nice. Helped when she could. She has a big heart, and always wore it on her sleeve. She never got into trouble, or at least didn't get caught. She stole my car a few times, and my alcohol. She took a few bucks from my wallet to get some local guy to buy her cigarettes. Like I said, nothing to bad.

As a child, she didn't have many friends. Only one or two. She preferred being alone. Always has. As she grew up, she was introduced to video games, and that's where I lost the daughter that would go walking in the woods for fun. She stopped going camping and swimming. If it was outside, she didn't do it. She would rather sit on the computer with her online friends that were all over the world, playing games and drawing.

She became a shut-in. It wasn't until Shari came back into my life that Kyrsten started going outside again. Shari seemed to bring life back to her.

You know, when Kyrsten was 14, she was introduced to your music. Three years later you were doing a show in Hampton Beach, New Hampshire. She wanted to go, but I refused. I thought I could help forge her into a better person, someone that wanted to become a doctor, or a lawyer. It wasn't until she moved away that I realized that her fate was set in stone.

It seemed that the more I pushed her in one direction, she went the other way. I'm glad she finally completed her dream of meeting you. Your music saved her life many times. For that, I thank you."

His words trigger a thought in Marilyn's mind, something that could help. "Where's her phone?" Steve points to a bag in the corner of the room. Without a second thought, Marilyn walks to the bag and rummages through it until he finds the slim black phone. Surprisingly, the battery was still half-full.

He unlocks it, knowing that the password was his name. He starts to scroll through her music, until finding the most played one. He was about to press play when the heart monitor flat lined.

"Code Blue in extensive care. Code Blue in room 256. Code Blue."

Marilyn turns towards Kyrsten as doctors and nurses start to swarm in. Two nurses push him and Steve out of the room.

Before the door shuts, Marilyn calls out, "Don't you leave me Kyrsten! KYRSTEN!"