“Mm there’s a lot…” he mused, giggling quietly. He liked fire. Maybe he could do something with fire.
His thoughts were interrupted by Cyrus’s words, a slight frown coming to Marcus’s features.
“She’s probably worried about you. She is your sister after all, there has to be even a small amount of care in her. My brother, Lucas, is an asshole like our father but he cared enough to help me out with food.” He noted, tilting his head as he thought over it.
He was doing that a lot now. Thinking.
“But I’m glad she likes me. That means I have approval to date you.” He gave Cyrus’s hands a soft squeeze, smiling at the reassurance.
“It’ll be okay…” he echoed, smiling brighter. “It’ll be us together…”
"Hopefully," Cyrus added, "Like I said, she's never considered that her business. As long as you don't get in her way, she usually acts neutral at worst."
He smiled again.
"Yeah, we've got this. I love you, and we're going to figure this out."
“I won’t get in her way unless she tries to hurt you.” Marcus huffed playfully, offering a small, goofy smile.
“I love you too, I’m so glad I met you. Everything feels like it’s going to actually work out for once. I love it.”
"Yeah," Cyrus agreed, "Not everything went according to plan, but it's gone more right than it has in a long time."
He finished up his plate.
"Thanks for the food. I feel marginally less sluggish. Just need to rest up now, honestly."
"It's the first time I think I've ever felt real love since my mom was alive… It's a whole new perspective for me and I'm liking it a lot." He turned his eyes down to their hands, grinning brightly at the feeling of having someone to hold hands with. At the feeling of holding Cyrus's hands.
"Your welcome, love. Rest and sleep will do you wonders, too. You need to get some good sleep, okay? Here, I'll take your plate for you."
"Me too," Cyrus said, "It's the most love I've felt in a long time."
"And yeah, lemme just take some medicine so the pain doesn't keep me up."
He handed the plate to Marcus.
"I appreciate all you've done for me. I don't know that I could've even survived this if you hadn't shown up."
Marcus took the plate happily, grinning brightly at Cyrus at the words. He felt so loved it made him want to cry. But he wouldn't. He was strong, he was going to be strong for Cyrus.
"Anything for you, Cy. I love you very much and I want to return the favor for everything you've done for me." He purred, leaning in to steal away a quick kiss.
"Now, take three of those, they'll help you sleep, too. But no more than three, got it?"
"Got it. I've never really been one for harder drugs, anyway," Cyrus reassured him, "I just need this damn pain to go away so I can rest."
"Good. Pain meds are a bitch to get off of." He groaned softly at the thought of it and shook his head. "But these aren't hard drugs, just the drugstore stuff. Three should be good and then you'll be able to sleep." Marcus grabbed the bottle and read through the directions, nodding softly and smiling. "Three should do it."
"Oh, that? Yeah, that's no big deal," Cyrus chuckled, "Thanks, love."
He took the pills with some of his remaining juice, then laid down to get more comfortable.
"Come lay with me?" Cyrus asked.
Marcus grinned and laughed, watching Cyrus take the medication with a soft sigh.
"Anything for you, Cy. I love you." He hummed, tilting his head at the request before he nodded enthusiastically.
"Oh! Yes! Of course," He replied as he climbed into bed and laid next to Cyrus. He draped his arm around the other's torso and gave him a soft hug. "Still just as comfy as I remember" He teased, flashing a stupid grin.
"I'm glad," Cyrus sighed, "I love you…"
After a few minutes of cuddling, Cyrus' eyes went heavy, and he fell asleep, despite some of the lingering pain.
"I love you too. Sleep well." Marcus murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Cyrus's face. He laid with the other quietly, running his fingers through the other's hair and humming softly. Once Cyrus had fallen asleep, Marcus closed his eyes. He smiled softly to himself, feeling more love than he ever had for anyone ever.
Cyrus had fallen asleep pretty easily, since he was so exhausted. Yet, the sleep itself was fitful. He tossed and turned as much as his hurting body allowed.
Fragments of nightmares also crept their way into his mind. They were indistinct at first, but as he fell deeper into sleep, he realized he was standing in his house, knife in hand.
There was a bloody set of footprints behind him. Not remembering what came before, he retraced his steps to the scene. He expected to see his father's corpse again, expected to be disgusted once again at what he'd done. But it was much worse.
Lying on the floor in front of him, with thirty-something stab wounds was Marcus.
His heart sped up.
Oh God, oh God… what have I done?
He leaned down to cradle the others' body, in futile hope that he could somehow bring the life back into his body.
It was about three in the morning when Cyrus woke up suddenly, panic forming a pit in his stomach. He was disoriented, and couldn't remember where he was at first, especially since he was distracted by the pounding of his own heart and the sharp chest pain that set in.
He found himself gasping for breath as he sat upright.
The sudden motion tore one of the stitches in his side, but he was already so far from his body, he barely even noticed.
Marcus was awoken by the gasping breaths and sudden shifting that came from Cyrus. He blinked blearily, trying to clear the sleep from his head as he sat up and yawned.
"Cyrus? What's wrong? What time is it?" He asked quietly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking over at his boyfriend.
Immediately he was fully awake, his eyes wide and slightly panicked from just seeing Cyrus so out of it.
"Hey, hey, I'm right here, its okay, lay back down, love you'll hurt yourself."
"I-I can't breathe…" he gasped, not fully aware of who was sitting next to him.
He clutched at the sheets, trying to ground himself, but he couldn't quite reign himself back in.
He was trembling, softly whimpering between gasps for breath.
"Cyrus, love, look at me, look at me. Breath deeply, okay?" Marcus gently took Cyrus's face in his hands and turned his face towards him, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the other's cheeks.
"Breath with me. In… out… focus on me. I'm here for you."
Cyrus pulled away from Marcus, still heavily disoriented. He cried out as the stitches in his side further came undone.
There was something distinctly wild and detached about his state at the moment. It was always weird to go into a panic attack at night, as there was that element of not knowing what happened, sometimes not knowing where he was.
However, this was unusual. Usually they didn't wake him up at night like this. Maybe a couple of times before, more so when he was younger.
Cyrus turned away from Marcus, folding his arms in closer to his body, and unconsciously digging nails into the back of his hands.
Marcus gasped softly when Cyrus cried out, biting his lip.
"Cyrus, its me, Marcus. I'm right here, its okay love. Its okay. Shhh," Marcus was desperate to find any way to calm Cyrus down. He kept whispering soft, loving words of comfort as he searched the room with his eyes to find something to help. He bit down on his lip harder when Cyrus turned away. He rubbed soft circles into his lovers back, trying to calm him down some.
"I'm right here, nothing can hurt you Cy. I'm right here."
Cyrus tugged at his hair a bit, trying to reign himself in. And he did, after the pain set in and brought him back.
"I-I… I don't know what happened…" he whispered, clutching at his side.
"It's okay… let me help you, did you reopen your stitches?" Marcus asked softly, moving around the bed to face his love. "Can I see?" He gently set his hand on Cyrus's arm, staring up at him with a concerned expression.
"Yeah, I think so…" Cyrus muttered, "I didn't hurt you when I pushed you away, did I?"
He bit down on his lip.
"God, I don't know what's wrong with me, I don't usually have that happen during the night…"
He was rambling a bit, clearly still very distressed and worried.
"No, no. You didn't hurt me at all." He reassured, offering his hands to Cyrus after a moment.
"It's okay, Cy. You've been through a lot in the last couple of hours. There's nothing wrong with you, you're stressed and this is a perfectly normal way to react to what has happened. Come here, let me patch you up." He pressed a very gentle kiss to the other's forehead.
Cyrus nodded. He was covered in sweat, still panting a bit, and his hands shook.
Do I tell him? No… probably not a good idea…
Cyrus pulled up his shirt a bit to reveal the bandages over his gunshot wound.
"God, I woke up, and I forgot I was at your place, or that you were with me…" he said.
Marcus carefully removed the bandages and studied the wound quietly. He sighed at the sight of blood and looked up at Cyrus. "Maybe you should stay a little longer with me before we move you back to your house. Is that okay, love? I'm worried about you. I'll have to restitch this wound, lets go to the bathroom."
"Not if that puts you in danger," Cyrus said firmly, "I refuse to let that happen."
He sighed softly.
"Well, damn… If I'd been more aware, I would not have moved like that."
He got out of the bed. Cyrus was a little unsteady, and the blood rushed from his head, but he managed to support himself and not pass out.
“I’ll be okay for a few days. I promise, Cy.” There was a part of Marcus that knew that Cyrus was right. But he didn’t want to think of that.
Marx was too big of a threat to ignore however., and Marcus couldn’t hide from him forever.
“Here, let me help you,” he gasped, standing as quick as he could and offering himself as a crutch.
"Thanks…"
Cyrus leaned on Marcus to take the weight from his injured leg, and he limped to the bathroom.
He would address going home later. He was going home. There was no way he would endanger Marcus like that.
Marcus nodded his response, focusing on giving Cyrus help.
Once in the bathroom Marcus helped sit Cyrus down. He moved to grab the first aid kit and sighed gently.
“Does it hurt?”
"A bit, yeah," Cyrus replied, "Not as unbearable as before, though."
He lifted up the side of his shirt again and carefully worked to lift away the bandages.
"I'm… really sorry about this…"
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