Marcus leaned his head against Cyrus’s and sighed. The soft reassurance the other gave him brought a warm feeling to his chest. If he wasn’t careful he’d surely be hooked on Cyrus’s love like it was a drug to make him feel alive again.
The gang member was afraid of that.
It wasn’t good to be needy in a relationship. It wasn’t good to leach off love.
“Others…” Marcus groaned softly. “There’s no way they wouldn’t be hurt. I’m scared of that. I don’t want anyone to be hurt because of me.” If he left, some other pout soul would be stolen for Marx’s pleasure. Marcus didn’t want that.
"I wouldn't say because of you," Cyrus said, "It's just… I can't leave knowing that I made no attempt to stop all this, even though success is unlikely."
He swallowed hard, his mouth feeling dry.
"I don't know, running feels useless."
“I know. I meant if I leave, Marx will find another plaything. I can’t do that to anyone.” The ginger tangled his fingers into the other’s hair, playing with the soft, curly strands.
“You’re much braver than I am, Cyrus. I admire that…” he sighed sadly and shook his head. “I’m a coward. I’d rather run than fight…”
"Oh, yeah… that…" Cyrus sighed, closing his eyes, "I'm not brave. I'm scared to run."
He shook his head a little.
"Not to mention, I have too much compassion for my own good. Sometimes I worry I have little sense of self-preservation because of it."
“You do need a little bit of self-preservation.” Marcus flicked Cyrus’s forehead, but smiled kindly at the other. “But being compassionate isn’t a bad thing. It’s one of the things I like about you, you know. You’re compassionate still, unlike everyone else I’ve come across with circumstances like yours. But you’re stupid when it comes to keeping yourself safe. Sometimes you have to hurt others to keep yourself safe. Whether that be emotionally or physically, sometimes you need to do it.”
Cyrus frowned. "I know. I have. I think you do forget that I'm one of their hitmen, and I'm damn good at my job when I don't think about it too much. But it's much harder when people I care about get involved. I do want to protect them, and blindly so. Even if it means harm to me. If I could've saved Hugo, I'd have taken all of his beatings for him, by god…"
He smiled shakily.
"I'm afraid it's going to be the death of me."
“You’re such a good soul…” Marcus murmured, stealing a soft kiss. “Martyrdom is a noble thing… but if you let yourself blindly get hurt or… or killed while trying to help someone else, you won’t be able to continue giving help. If you stay alive, then you can continue to help others.”
He fell silent, a sudden thought coming to his mind. “Once I become the leader of the Silence, I want you to help me. I’m going to make the Silence into a gang that helps the abused and broken like us… society won’t help us. So we need to take matters into our own hands.”
"I don't know if I would call it martyrdom so much as numbness…" Cyrus sighed, "But I mean, I haven't gone and tried to get myself killed yet…"
He licked his lips.
"I doubt I could get away from dear old dad that easily," he continued, "I would still love to help you. I'm thinking… I'm thinking I could get my sister on board with an assassination plot. It could be risky, but with the promise that she will become the leader of the Nightshade, she might be willing. And she doesn't give a damn about me, so I'm sure she'd happily let me fuck off and do what I want."
Marcus stared at the small, chopped coffee table that sat in front of the couch. He wanted to free Cyrus somehow but the way to do so was foggy and uncertain. An assassination plot could backfire. That wouldn’t be good for Cyrus. It could get him killed if it were found out.
“Be careful of what you do. I won’t stop you from doing anything but I’ll still worry. You’re the first to care about me. I need to have you around so I can care for you in return.”
"It's just a thought. I'd tread the waters carefully first, if at all," Cyrus promised.
His hands were shaking again. He was thinking about Hugo. His little brother had invaded his thoughts a lot lately, though he wished that weren't the case. It was just much too gruesome and painful for him to dwell on without sacrificing some of his sanity.
“Please be careful.” He grabbed Cyrus’s shaking hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Was Hugo your brother?” He asked softly, pulling Cyrus into his lap for a moment.
Cyrus took in a sharp breath.
“Yeah… he was.”
He appreciated the gentle pressure on his hands. It at least made them feel like they weren’t shaking anymore.
“I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, is all.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Marcus searched Cyrus’s face, looking for any signs of discomfort or pain. He was worried for the other. Really worried.
Marcus knew exactly how bad the feelings of dread and loss and sadness could be. They had led him to attempt a suicide only three weeks earlier. The drugs he took to overdose didn’t kill him. They only made him sicker than a dog. He threw up for hours as his body rejected the many drugs.
"I don't know… I don't know if there's much to talk about."
Cyrus took a deep, shuddering breath to keep from crying.
"I'm the one who found him. He- he hung himself… I was desperate to save him, even though he was already dead. I mean, I did try…"
He shook his head.
"Obviously it was too late. I'm used to seeing blood and shit, but that- that was a whole different thing to witness."
Marcus grit his teeth. It must have been hard for Cyrus… to find his brother dead. “It’s awful when it’s someone you love… it’s easy to see and do when it’s not someone you know.” Marcus pushed his head against Cyrus’s and held him tight. “I’m sorry you had to see that…”
(FUCK human syrup- I'm gonna lose my mind lmao)
"It's- it's fine…" Cyrus choked, dissolving into soft sobs, even though he tried to hide it.
He hugged Marcus back, trying to keep his breathing even in spite of the tears.
"There's nothing I can do now, you know?"
(ME TOO. G.un is my favorite: gun.)
“It’s alright to mourn, Cyrus. It’s alright to not be okay.” He rubbed the other’s back gently, sighing sadly. “It’s all okay…”
(Yeah, honestly my favorite. Reread the scene where Cyrus almost shot Marx just for the laughs)
Cyrus sniffled a little.
“Yeah… I know… I-I know…” he took in a gasp of air, “I haven’t been okay in a long time.”
(Ahahahaha I love that!! I had to go reread it too)
“That’s fine, Cyrus. You don’t have to be okay.” He reassured, kissing his head. “We’ll figure this all out, okay? We just have to keep going, even if it hurts.”
"Of course," he replied, his voice wavering, but just strong enough to be convincing, "I've been pushing through all this time. It'd be a shame to stop now. Especially now that I have someone to share the burden with."
He pressed his cheek on Marcus' shoulder, a few wet tears transferring onto him.
"Fuck… I'm sorry, I'm gross…" he laughed sadly, sniffling a little to keep his nose from running more.
“Exactly. I’m here to help you. We can carry the burden together. Don’t keep it to yourself.” He smiled weakly, rubbing the other’s back.
“You’re not gross, Cyrus. You’re still just as handsome as the day I first met you. Can I see your face?”
Marcus slipped a hand into Cyrus’s hair once more, massaging his scalp in what he hoped was a comforting manner.
Cyrus looked up. His eyes were a little red and his nose was running, but otherwise, he didn't look so bad for someone who had been crying.
"It's been one hell of a day, man," he murmured.
Marcus gently wiped Cyrus’s tears away, cupping his face and smiling weakly. “It has been, hasn’t it?” He pressed a soft kiss to the other’s nose.
“Are you hungry?”
Cyrus nodded. "Yeah, we should probably eat, huh?"
He turned his head away, feeling a bit shaky. Cyrus wasn't doing so great. All that was going on kept dredging up worse and worse memories and emotions.
“Yes we should.” Marcus very gently turned Cyrus’s face back to his own, rubbing his thumbs against The other’s face.
“Focus in me, alright? Don’t dwell on those thoughts.”
"I'm trying…" Cyrus sighed.
He really was. It was just a lot to handle, but it would've been much worse without Marcus there.
"You do help, though. It's bad, but you lessen the stress and pain."
“You’re doing great, Cyrus, just keep focusing on me, alright?” He murmured softly, bringing the other closer.
“I’m glad I can help. If I could take your pain away I would. I hope you know that.”
"I'm glad you care that much, but… this pain is mine to bear. Not to say I deserve it, but… well…" Cyrus sighed.
That was exactly what he was saying, but he wasn't sure why.
“You don’t deserve it. Don’t tell yourself that.”
Marcus snapped, staring sternly at Cyrus. “Yes, you’ve done bad things but you are not a bad guy and you are not defined by those actions. You do not deserve to be put through this.
Cyrus drew back a bit.
"Okay, okay…" he sighed, "I… I dunno, man. I'm feeling fucked up still. I know that realistically, no one deserves the bad things that happen to them, but sometimes, it unfortunately feels that way."
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