(So sorry, I've been not in the headspace to do this rp. I'm alright, but my brain's been very much not in the best place lately. It's so frustrating bc I really love this rp but I haven't had the energy to respond to many actual rps lately. Things are probably going to get better soon though? I'm maybe going to make an appointment with a therapist when I get back to school, and I'm also finally about to get some treatment for my sleep disorder, so fingers crossed.)
"Of course," Cyrus replied, "And don't worry. You can bring up the past while still focusing on us."
He laughed softly.
"Yeah, me too. Good food is honestly such a comfort. I'm so glad I actually learned how to cook growing up so I could share that with people I love. I mean… I wish my mom was still around to do it with me, but I'm grateful that it's something else I have left of her."
(Hey! You’re alright! I understand completely as there are times that I get to that point as well, so I know how hard it is. You can take your time to rest, heal, and ready yourself alright? It’s good you’re getting help though! That’ll do a lot of good!! I hope it all works out!!!)
Marcus smiled softly and and thanked him, his shoulders relaxing with the new information.
“You cook good too… I bet your mom would be so proud of you. You’ve done so much good and come so far.” He hummed, smiling warmly.
(Thank you! Actually moving back to school immediately improved my mood somewhat, and I've made a therapy appointment and I'm taking action on some other things in my life, so I think I'm on the right track! Also in other cool news, I'm getting my COVID-19 vaccine next week because I'm technically a healthcare worker)
"Thanks, love," Cyrus murmured, "I mean, I'm really trying. For you. And I'd hope she'd be proud. Shit, she may have even been proud of me striking down the old man. I'm sure he did things to her beyond my wildest imagination…"
He tried to smile, but a bit of worry still caused his brow to furrow. Marcus was still trapped. No matter how far he had come, his love was still in so much danger.
(That sounds wonderful!! I’m glad you’re doing better!! And as for the vaccine, I hope it goes well! My mother just got hers as she’s a healthcare worker. She says it feels like the HPV one, a little sore but nothing much)
“I think she would be.” Marcus echoed softly, nodding along to the words of Cyrus. It would make sense that she’d be proud.
But Marcus was certain his mother wouldn’t be proud of the life he went. Maybe she’d be proud of the man he’d become, but not of what he had done. Definitely not of the drugs or of the gang. Definitely not of the people he had gone with or the people he’d harmed. He sighed softly at the thought but didn’t dwell too long on it.
“It’s hard without a mom isn’t it?”
(Yeah, I've heard some people get mild symptoms like headache, body aches, and low grade fever, but those aren't really anything a little ibuprofen won't fix. Besides, not that any of my family is against the vaccine, but if they're hesitant, hopefully me being a "guinea pig" of sorts will help that.)
"Oh, for sure," Cyrus agreed, "Considering she was one of very few people who actually got me, especially. I always wondered how it was that she and my dad ended up together… If he was once kind, perhaps, or if she was coerced in some way."
He shook his head. "It's hard not knowing if she might still be alive somewhere. And if I did find her, would she be safe from the gangs here? What would I tell her about my brother?"
(True! I’m not too worried about it either. It helps to be informed by someone who’s directly in the healthcare system. Not to mention my university is like top 3 in medical stuff so they’re working on the vaccine pretty hard. I get a lot of updates really fast. But yes! That will help your family!! Some confidence that it didn’t turn people into alligators or track them or something XD)
“I think they’re all kind until they have what they want. Marx was the sweetest man I could have ever met. Gave me gifts, took me out on the sweetest dates, and he even praised me for doing a good job in the gang… it all started to go down hill after the first month I was with him officially. By then he had my full affection, so he decided he didn’t need to pretend anymore…” Marcus replied, his eyes narrowing to small slits as he stared out at the street.
“Maybe he was a good man from the start? My father wasn’t ever a good man, I know that. My mother married him for the benefits of marriage and what it could do to help her save up enough to go to America. ‘Course my father did love my mother. He loved her lots. He even loved my brother when he was born. He still loves him, let’s him be a deadbeat and live with him. It was when I was born that it all started going downhill. It’s all because I have a slight birth defect that was really bad when I was a child. Surgery and medical bills were expensive and it only got worse when mother got cancer or whatnot. It’s technically my fault she died in such a painful way. The surgery’s they did to try and fix my leg drained the bank. Mother didn’t get the right treatment. We couldn’t afford it. My father blames me for her death. Sometimes I believe him and sometimes I’m not so sure… she was so far along in the stages of it I don’t think they could have saved her. Didn’t help she smoked all throughout it…” Marcus fell strangely silent. His eyes didn’t return to Cyrus or anything remotely physical. They had widened, and were focused on something distant and untouchable.
“And all that money was wasted on me. Sure the pain isn’t as bad in my leg and I can walk, but it’s not fixed. I’ve still got a twisted femur and I’m still a cripple. I’m still in pain when the weather gets cold and humid. Maybe she would have survived if I had any say in what happened to me. I was young, my mother made all the decisions. My father didn’t get a say. Neither did I.”
(Yeah lmao. Luckily my folks, while they have their issues, aren't complete wackos. So I think they're most worries about like side effects and stuff, and not tracking, thank God. I'm basically just getting mine through my job at the health department.)
"Marcus. My love. Those things are not your fault. Unexpected sickness is not your fault. Like you said, you had no say in where money was going, and even more obviously, it is not your fault you were born the way you were. I doubt your mother regretted a thing in getting you those surgeries. Your father has no right to place the blame on you. That's gaslighting, baby. And it's really easy to fall victim to when it's a parent," Cyrus soothed, "I know I can only help so much, but if you are able to see a therapist in the future, this sounds like an important something you will be able to work through."
He sighed a bit.
"I know it's not the same, but I've struggled with blaming myself for my brother's death as well."
Cyrus checked the date on his phone and shook his head.
"Tomorrow will be two years to the day since he killed himself."
(Honestly mood tho haha! My family isn’t worried about it either, well my immediate family at least. My aunt thinks it’ll harm her but she’s always been a little strange. Once my mom gets the second round of it my aunt will probably be alright with it. But that’s good! It’s a good way to get it. I still have to wait but I might be one of the next because I am a college student and they were talking about doing us college students next. Hopefully)
“Gaslighting…?” He asked quietly, tilting his head as he thought over the word. It did seem to match all the definitions of what was happening to him. Cyrus was probably right, but Marcus couldn’t help but to question it. It had to be his fault somewhere along the line, right??
“Two years? That’s not too long of time… I don’t know how you’re doing it all. I’m sorry…” Marcus replied softly, using the new info to slightly change the route of where they were going. He had a lot to work on. He wouldn’t dump it on Cyrus.
Cyrus winced a bit.
"Yeah… me neither," he admitted, "I dunno, I feel like I could've stopped it from happening. And while that's a horrible train of thought, I-I was closer to him than anyone else was. If anyone was going to notice he had hit rock bottom, it was going to be me. Yet, I guess I was too absorbed in my own problems to realize that maybe he had it worse than me."
Cyrus rubbed his eyes.
"And no one seemed to care that much when he died, either. None of his family anyway, besides myself."
He let out an airy sigh. Cyrus' throat began to feel a bit tight.
"I guess I'm not helping you, huh? Falling into that same old pitfall of blaming myself for things."
“You had your own things to deal with, Cyrus, love. And it’s… hard to tell sometimes. Not everyone shows it.” Marcus gave Cyrus’s hand a small squeeze. He wasn’t sure how else to help. All he could do was be there.
“It’s not too good, I’ll admit,” Marcus teased with a soft laugh, resting his head down against the table between them. “But we’re both in a rough place.”
"No kidding…" Cyrus agreed, "God, I want to be there for you more, but I'm- I'm tearing apart at the seams. I don't know what to do to hold it together in the meantime. And all the physical pain is just topping it off."
He chuckled softly.
"And to think half of my worries aren't even truly mine."
Marcus blinked slowly up at his lover, the ghost of a frown hovering over his lips.
“Don’t worry about me or my issues right now, Cyrus. I know it’s easier said than done, but I’ll be alright in the end. We’ll be alright. You should focus on yourself and healing up. That’s more important for you.” He chided, rubbing his thumb against Cyrus’s hand in a soothing manner.
“Be selfish this one time, okay? Heal up for me.”
"I- yeah, definitely easier said than done. I've always found it easier to confront other people's problems than my own. But… I do think you're right. I'm not going to get better as easily if I keep doing this."
He gritted his teeth.
"I'm still really worried about Pollux. I know that's something way out of my control, but… still… He doesn't have much of anyone to help him through. No family, at least. That said, he's much tougher than I am, but it's so damn frustrating, you know?"
“Mhm, try and focus on you right now, dear. It’s hard but it’ll be so much better for you in the long run. Especially in this situation. Self-sacrifice is noble but you can’t overwork yourself with other’s issues and problems even if it is easier. I want to be selfish and keep you around forever, so you can’t go overworking or hurting yourself.”
Marcus brought Cyrus’s hand to his lips in a soft, reassuring kiss. He let out a soft hum, tilting his head in what was a half-hearted attempt to nod.
“I know love, it’s way frustrating. Sometimes the only way to help others is to let them grow themselves. It’s hard though. I know it is. But he is strong. And he seems like the kind of person to not give into his affliction. A fighter of sorts. Not like our type of fighter but one all the same.”
"I know he is…" Cyrus sighed, "But that's not the type of thing anyone wants to endure alone. Not even him. And all I want is to be able to go keep him company for a bit. Just raise his spirits. It's not much to ask. But I don't think I could in this state. Just physically."
He choked a bit.
"I don't know that I can confront my own problems, anyhow. They're all so deep-rooted and almost purely in my head. I'm sick, Marcus… I can't just fix that in my current situation."
“Oh, it is nice to have someone with you while you heal…” he murmured softly, sighing. “I’m sure you’d be able to go and visit him. I can help you, Cyrus. I promise.”
Marcus gazed back out to the street, thinking for a long moment.
“Not in your current situation, no, but our situation will change. You won’t have to be sick for long. I’ll do all I can to help to.”
"I appreciate it," Cyrus replied, "but I don't think these recovery is going to be easy or pretty, even with you by my side. I just hope you'll still be okay with me, even after everything. I just- I worry about it a good bit. But I guess you haven't left me yet."
Marcus shook his head roughly, a pout on his face.
“No, I won’t leave you. Not for something like that. I’ll be alright with you, love. I’ve seen you so far, you’ve been a wonderful person and I understand you have things you need to work out. I have things I need to work out too. I can’t hate on you for that because I’m in a bad situation too.” He murmured gently.
“I don’t think you’re a bad person either. Or hard to deal with or anything like that.”
"I want to believe you, but I swear everyone else finds me annoying or gloomy… or something unsavory. And while in my mind, I know you're telling the truth, there's so many 'what ifs' bouncing around," Cyrus said, "But to be fair, I would never force anyone to partake in resolving my issues. It's a lot."
He chuckled softly.
"I suppose being so self-conscious has at least made me kinder and more sensitive to others, which seems to be what you like most about me."
Marcus moved across the table to press a gentle and loving kiss to Cyrus’s cheek, running his fingers through his lover’s hair.
“I love all of you, but I do like how kind you are. It’s a strength, even if it came from a source that doesn’t seem right or is unsavory. Those ‘what-if’s’ are hard to ignore, and even harder to get rid of and they might not even go away, but they don’t make you any less of a person and they don’t make you annoying or gloomy. You’re wonderful Cyrus, and I know you’re strong and loving and a good person. I don’t mind helping you either, I don’t care if it’s a lot. I’ll do everything in my power to help.”
Cyrus nodded in understanding.
"Thank you. You're so patient. You know that?"
He gave a half-smile to the other.
"And when I can, I promise I'll do what I'm able to help you as well. You deserve all my love and support."
(Should we skip to another scene soon? I feel like we're a little stuck lmao)
Marcus cradled the other’s face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together with a soft sigh.
“And you deserve all of mine and so much more. I love you.”
(Yeah we should Xd we’re a bit stuck. Which one shall we skip to? The day Marx decides Marcus has been silent for a little too long so he goes after him, only for Marx to meet his untimely demise?)
(Yeah, we can do that, unless there's anything in between. I can't think of anything really. So how would that play out? Is Marcus constantly with Cyrus up to that point? Should there be some warning from Nina?)
(I can’t think of anything either that would go inbetween. Just them resting and worrying. I think there’d be a warning from Nina, and for sure a call of text to Marcus from Marx. He’d probably get the Nina warning a day before and the Marx text about an hour or less before. Marcus would probably be spending time with Cyrus but wandering off alone around the house every now and then just to be alone with his anxieties and probs so he could find something to burn as it’s his stress relief.)
(Gotcha. You wanna start?)
(Yeup! I hope the day of the drama is alright!)
His chest burned as he took another inhale of smoke and nicotine - his seventh cigarette in the last hour and a half was about gone and Marcus didn’t know if he had anymore stashed away in his jacket. The thought itself brought new and more intense anxiety to his chest.
He had forty minutes to return to his own apartment. Forty minutes to gather himself for a fight he knew he would never be ready for. Nina had warned him yesterday that the gang leader was returning but he didn’t expect the text so soon.
Marcus had to excuse himself outside as he really didn’t want Cyrus to see him like this. The gang leader had such a hold on Marcus that it would probably pain Cyrus to see Marcus so anxious and terrified of a single man.
It had been almost two hours since he had received the text. Marcus had gone through all of his cigarettes in that time, trying desperately to cool his nerves with nicotine and soft, spiraling clouds of smoke. Usually the smoke and fire helped. It wasn’t doing much for him at the moment.
Marcus flicked the last, glowing embers of his cigarette and stomped it out, turning to look back at the house he had made his sanctuary while Cyrus recovered. He took ten more minutes before wandering back inside and to the bedroom he had grown to love almost as much as he loved his boyfriend.
“I-I got to go… I need my gun… and k-knife.” He muttered to the air as he wandered through the doorway of the room, trying desperately to control the shaking and hyperventilating.
None of this was fair. Marx wasn’t fair. Marcus just wanted Cyrus. He just wanted to be happy for once. He didn’t want to live in fear of one man who could so easily end him with no remorse.
Cyrus got up on his crutches and hobbled over to Marcus.
"Be safe, please," he murmured, trying to rest his chin on top of the other's head, "If you need to borrow any more weapons from me, you're welcome to them. Whatever it takes, love. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for. I love you more than you know."
Cyrus let out a heavy, shaking sigh. He was scared too, but had become almost numb.
"Please message me when you get out of there. Let me know if I need to come get you or something. I'll find a way."
Marcus nuzzled his way under the other’s chin, turning to wrap his arms tightly around the other.
“I love you too, Cyrus. I love you so goddamn much I don’t think I’ll ever recover. I’ll be as safe as I can be… I’ll try my hardest to make it back to you. I’ll call you when I’m done, but please don’t strain yourself. I’ll be able to walk back here safely.” His voice was muffled by his position against Cyrus, unwilling to let go so soon.
He wanted to make sure that if he did fail, he’d still have this last moment to remember. He’d rather think of Cyrus in his last moments than of the one who killed him.
When Marcus pulled away his cheeks were tear stained. He didn’t bother to wipe them as he slid another, extra weapon into his jacket pocket just to be safe. It never hurt to come prepared.
“I’ll be back Cyrus. Can I get a kiss for luck?” He asked playfully, trying to improve the mood a little.
"It's okay, baby. I just meant call you a cab, call up Nina… something I would be able to do if necessary-"
He paused and nodded slightly.
"Of course," Cyrus replied, starting with a kiss on the forehead, then pressing the other's chin up so he could kiss him on the lips.
Marcus tasted like cigarette smoke. He did often, but it was stronger than usual today.
"I love you so much. And don't worry about me while you're gone. I'll be fine, as long as you are."
He leaned against one of the crutches a little more heavily to keep the weight off his injured leg, but while it was still painful and a struggle to move around, it was healing up nicely, thanks to Marcus' help. He wasn't sure he'd have been able or willing to take care of the wound if he had been alone.
“Thank you, my love.” He purred, letting his eyes slip closed as Cyrus leaned in. The first kiss was a welcome one. It made Marcus giddy enough to giggle softly and it even soothed a small part of him that worried for his boyfriend. The second kiss left him a little saddened but satisfied nonetheless.
“I love you too. I’ll be back as soon as I can dear. Please rest yourself.” He chided softly, leaning in to steal away his lovers lips once more.
“I’ll be back…” he promised one last time before turning to the doorway. He waved his goodbye to Cyrus, promising endless snuggles and kisses when he returned to help aid the healing process.
In fair light, one would see he was only trying to cover up the panic attack slowly seeping into his bones.
He took the bus system. It was quicker than on foot and Marcus had only a few minutes to get there before his tormentor did.
Marcus was more than happy when he saw the building up ahead and checked the time. Ten minutes. He had time to prepa-
His heart immediately sank at the sight of a pretty silver mustang parked in the adjacent lot of the apartment complex. Marx was here already. Which meant he would be very angry that Marcus was not already in the apartment waiting for him.
He stood at the apartment door for a solid moment, holding his key tight enough the teeth dug into his palm and left burning indents that threatened to break skin.
In a brief moment of courage, he unlocked then pushed the door open.
“Marcy, hun, you kept me waiting.”
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