It took quite a bit of time for Marcus to get Cyrus up into the apartment but once there he made sure to lay Cyrus carefully on his side on the bed. He stroked his lovers hair for a moment before he stood to face Xiomara.
"I'm sorry you had to help me with all this. Especially after we just met again.., if there is anything you want from me I'll give it to you." He murmured, looking ashamed. He always relied on her and for once in his life he wished he could pay her back in some way.
"Don't apologize, Marcus. Just get out of that gang. That's the best thing you could do for me." She shook her head, huffing gently. "I'm going to head back home okay?" She patted his shoulder and sighed. "Do both you and Cyrus a favor and get as far away from Marx as you can."
Marcus nodded his response, too ashamed to speak. He followed her to the door, mouthing another 'thank you' and letting her out. He groaned the second the door shut, pressing his forehead against the wood and groaning.
Next thing Cyrus knew, he was awake in Marcus' bed. He shuddered a bit when he realized Marcus and Xio were both gone.
He almost tried to sit up, but there wasn't much left in him.
Just enough to lift his voice.
"Marcus?" he called, his voice very soft and fragile.
The fragile call was enough to bring Marcus nearly running. He opened the bedroom door slowly, looking in and sighing in relief to see Cyrus awake.
He moved to the edge of the bed, kneeling down next to Cyrus and placing a gentle hand on his arm.
“I’m right here, love. It’s okay.”
Cyrus winced a bit, and ultimately gave up on any major movement. He placed a hand over Marcus' leg.
"I… I think I'm gonna be okay. Just- ugh… please stay with me. I'm so exhausted… I'm scared… I need you…"
The words pulled at Marcus’s heartstrings, leaving him teary-eyed and pouting.
“I’m here for you, Cy, I’m not going to go anywhere.” He promised, his thumb rubbing against Cyrus’s arm.
“Do you want me to lay with you or stay right here?”
"I'd like to see your face, but if you need to lie down, that's fine too…" Cyrus replied.
He let out a weak sigh.
"God, I'm so lucky… I'm so lucky to have you…"
He cracked a slight smile.
"I'm fucking free of that old bastard…"
“I’ll stay right here. I don’t need to lay down.” He murmured, smiling and sniffling at Cyrus’s words. He let out a soft chuckle and leaned forwards to kiss Cyrus’s cheek.
“You’re free from him, and now you’re free to be mine and me to be yours.” Marcus smiled warmly at Cy, moving his hand to play with the other’s hair.
“God you’re so handsome.”
"Even like this?" Cyrus rasped.
He moved a bit and hissed in pain.
"Jesus… I'm feeling rough…"
“You’re always handsome to me Cy:” he purred, gently pushing down on the others chest when he tried to move.
“Stay still, love. You’re hurt.”
"Ugh… yeah… However I lay is uncomfortable," he murmured, grabbing at Marcus' hand.
"I'm sorry I put you through all of this, but… I really appreciate you being there for me. I can't even begin to show how grateful I am."
“Is there any way I can help you get more comfortable?” Marcus let the other take his hand, smiling at him.
“You can show me how grateful you are by getting better and then giving me all the kisses in the world so I can return them!” He replied with a giggle, placing kisses across Cyrus’s face.
“I’m grateful for you too… I love you so much.”
"I don't know," Cyrus replied, "Everything hurts… a lot…"
He leaned back, accepting the kisses. His eyes widened a bit, and he shuddered, thinking back to the scene at his house.
Suddenly Marcus pulled back, looking worried. He had caught the expression, the shudder. He was worried he had caused it.
"Sorry, Cy! Did I hurt you?" He asked quickly, keeping his voice down.
"No, it's not that. It's just- nothing… I don't know."
He bit his lip, not sure how to articulate it. He covered it up with a lie.
"I just moved wrong, is all. It's not your fault. I promise."
He frowned a bit.
"Sorry to be so needy, but… I think I need some more to drink. I'm horribly thirsty still."
"Are you sure? Do you need more blankets? Pillows? Anything to lay on to help?" Marcus fussed, looking over Cyrus for any signs the wounds or stitching had opened or started bleeding again. When Cyrus spoke again Marcus seemed to relax, his eyes softening.
"You're not being needy, Cyrus, I'll go get you a drink, okay?" He slowly stood, ruffling Cyrus's hair once before he smiled. "Just a water? Milk? Juice? You're not having alcohol. I'm not going to let you till you heal."
"Dear God, no. No alcohol, " Cyrus agreed, "Probably some juice. I could really use the sugar. I'm feeling weak as all hell."
He smiled a bit at Marcus.
"I love and appreciate you so much," he said.
(Sorry, power went out.)
“Juice it is!” He returned the smile with one of his own, giggling softly at himself. A light blush spread across his face at Cyrus’s words.
“I love you too, Cyrus. I’m here for you always.” Marcus gave Cyrus a loving look before he turned to go to the kitchen, smiling softly to himself.
(Oh dang. That's alright!)
Cyrus groaned softly to himself. He felt like absolute shit, but he was so glad Marcus was able to help.
He waited for his love to return, his gaze drifting towards the door.
(It’s been pretty crazy over here)
Once he had poured two glasses of juice - one for him and one for Cyrus - Marcus made his way carefully back into the room, his focus on the two drinks rather than anything else.
“Here you go Cy, do you want help sitting up?”
Cyrus shook his head and used his arms to push himself up, even though it hurt.
He propped himself up against some pillows.
"Thanks," he said softly, shaking a bit as he held himself upright.
Marcus watched Cyrus wearily, offering the cup to him. He placed his own on the bedside table before moving to soothingly run his fingers through Cyrus's hair.
"You're shaking, baby, are you sure you're alright?"
"Uh, yeah," Cyrus replied softly, "I'm hurting, but I'm okay."
He leaned into Marcus' touch, trying to bear with him.
Marcus watched his lover with sad eyes, fingers twirling through strands of hair. He offered a small, weak smile before leaning in to kiss Cyrus’s forehead.
“If you need pain meds I can get you some.” He offered, cupping Cyrus’s face gently so he could press another loving kiss to the other’s nose.
“I’m yours to command now,” he joked, a goofy grin making its way to his face. “Your knight in waiting.”
"Yeah, I'd like to take something before bed tonight," Cyrus agreed.
He chuckled softly at Marcus.
"I appreciate you. Thanks for trying to keep me smiling."
“Good. It’ll help.” Marcus nodded gently at his own words before he released Cyrus and smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed carefully.
“Anything for the love of my life. I’m just glad you’re here with me.”
Cyrus nodded solemnly.
"I should probably text Nina, huh?" he muttered, "Things got much messier than expected, and I don't want that to be a surprise."
He reached for one of his pockets and pulled out his phone.
"How do you even explain something like that?"
Marcus mulled over the question for a little bit before he shrugged and sighed.
"Maybe just a simple: 'Hey things got messy, I got hurt, there's a scene that needs to be cleaned before the cops see it?' Kinda thing?" He offered, shrugging and offering a nervous smile.
"Y-yeah… probably, " Cyrus agreed.
He shuddered a bit at the thought.
"I'm worried she'll be angry and try to screw me over," he admitted, "After all, it was supposed to be just a normal assassination…"
He fell silent, biting his lip. The thought that Nina could do something to harm Cyrus made him both incredibly upset and extremely angry. He didn't like it at all.
"I don't know your sister well enough to know what she would do but if she even tries to harm you I'll kill her myself." He threatened, his tone dark and his eyes darker. That violence and darkness vanished soon after, however, when Marcus realized he had let it slip. He wouldn't kill. He couldn't kill. He just wouldn't do it.
"I won't let her get to you if she tries to screw you over."
"Yeah, I'm not sure," Cyrus said, "She's unpredictable. Might not even think much of it. Doesn't keep me from worrying though."
He shifted a bit.
"We'll see. If she's mad about it, it might even boil over, as long as I'm away from her. She's a lot less impulsive than my father."
He typed out the message quickly and sent it after a moment of hesitation.
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