I’m already hurt, Marcos wanted to growl. He didn’t have a physical pain, but the heartbreaking reality was enough to want some physical pain. Marcos, focusing all that rage and pain into his powers, threw the surrounding cars into the nearby buildings. Glass and metal exploded from the impact.
Hann ran over to Polaris and swiped his feet out from under him. “If someone gets hurt it should be you.”
Polaris fell, a maniac laugh escaping him. This is what he needed. This side of him needed to get out. From the ground, Polaris sweeper his leg at Hanns before jumping up, throwing a punch.
Hann fell but managed to avoid the punch. He got up and ran thirty feet away.
“Fight me, Hanns! Don’t you want to stop me!?!” Polaris yelled, hurling the lamppost at Hanns again. Sweat was already beading down his face from so much exertion in so little time.
“Why do you do this?” Hann ran out of the way going to Polaris' other side.
Polaris didn’t answer, hooking Hanns in the side with his fist, but he left himself open to being pinned down…
Hann grabbed Polaris' fist and flipped him over.
Polaris slammed onto the ground, and piece of metal making a sharp gash at the back of his neck. Polaris waited, just panting as Hanns towered over him.
Hann ran and found something to knockout Polaris with and came back, all within a second. He then hit Polaris in the head hard enough to knock him out.
Polaris took the hit, the world spinning, “Geez…” He mummered as blackness clouded his vision, “Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I loved…” Marcos’ head fell slack.
tell who? Hann dragged Polaris' limp body out of the road and into an abandoned alley before running home to get back to sleep before Marcos came back.
Marcos woke up bleary eyed. He blinked. He still had his Polaris mask on. Hanns didn’t unmask me…? Everything ached. Marcos was sitting in a small pool of blood from the cut in his neck. How long had he been out?
Justin ran home and changed and went back to sleep as if nothing had ever happened.
Marcos slowly stood and shed his suit. The upper back of his shirt was soaked in blood. He felt kind of light headed. Marcos took a wobbly step forward, bundling his suit in his arms. It looked as though the wreckage he’d caused had clear, so maybe he was out for an hour or so. He felt his forehead, a large bump was near his temple from where Hanns had knocked him out. Marcos leaned against the wall and took off his bloody shirt. Bruises were already forming on his abdomen and chest. He sighed and peaked outside the alley. Police were everywhere, innocents being pulled out of the worst of the carnage still.
Marcos spotted a shirt shop, one that had been hit by a car he’d thrown. Marcos used the scraps of his powers to levitate a shirt across the street when people weren’t looking. Marcos slid it on. It was a too large t-shirt with ‘I ❤️ NY’ scribbled on it. It was good enough. Marcos wrapped his bundled suit in his bloody T-shirt, and walked out of the alley. No one stopped him thankfully until he got back to the hotel. He entered the room quietly and slid his bloody shirt and suit under his bed. Marcos headed for the bathroom, hoping he wasn’t making too much noise.
Justin heard Marcos coming home but ignored him and rolled over.
Marcos leaned over the sink and touched the back of his neck. It stung. He pulled back his hand to reveal blood on his fingers. He cursed quietly, that Polaris side of his still showing, and turned on the faucet. Marcos looked in the mirror. He probably had a concussion, and would probably need a tetanus shot for the back of his neck. He dunked his head in the cold water. Marcos used his hands to get the water to rinse of the gash in his neck. It needed stiches probably. I’m going to go into so much debt, my insurance company wouldn’t pay for all that… And for once, Marcos thought about just quitting. Quitting it all, letting the world take its course without him. Marcos shook his head, it was a bad idea. He walked back and flopped onto what he thought was his bed (but was actually Justin’s bed) in exhaustion and fatigue and blood loss.
“What are you doing?” Justin whispered as he rolled over and hugged Marcos.
Marcos jumped, “I-I’m sorry I thought this was my bed,” Great going idiot, your just asking someone to notice how light-headed and dizzy you are… Marcos almost rolled off the bed, but Justin was hugging him. Besides, his head hurt. Marcos wondered if the huge bump on his head was noticeable…
Justin continued to hug him, “Why are you here? I thought you knew where your bed was.”
“I’m not feeling very well,” Marcos mumbled with a wince. The world was spinning again, and he was sure he was bleeding still, “I’m gonna get your bed a mess.” Marcos was too tired to even try to talk correctly, and he put his head in Justin’s shoulder. The bump near his temple really hurt.
“Are you ok!?” Justin would have shot up if Marcos wasn’t on his shoulder. “What happened?”
“A lot,” Marcos responded, wondering if Justin had spotted the gash on his neck or was just concerned by his words, “I’m really dizzy.”
“I think you’re more than dizzy.” Justin put his hand on his forehead to check his temperature. “Oh my god. What happened to your forehead!? There’s a giant bump!”
“I probably got a concussion…” Marcos murmured, leaning into Justin’s touch despite knowing it’d never work between them. He just wanted to enjoy the other human’s touch, if only for a few moments. Marcos mumbled some more, “Justin, I’m bleeding, I think…”
“You’re bleeding!” We should go fix that.” Justin gets up,out of bed picking up Marcos bridal style and carrying him to the bathroom.
Marcos murmured, “You’re really strong,” He snuggled his head into Justin’s arm. He just didn’t want to face the world yet. He didn’t want to face medical bills for his injuries, he didn’t want to face how heartbroken he was, he just didn’t want to. He blinked slowly at Justin, “I’m sorry, I probably got blood in your bed. I’m really sorry.”
“Who cares about bed sheets when you’re bleeding.” Justin set him down on the counter next to the sink.
Marcos’s head couldn’t help but tilt back to lean against the wall from exhaustion, “I think I’m dying of blood loss,” Marcos exaggerated tiredly, then said truthfully, “I’m really hurting.” Emotionally at least.
Justin got out the first aid kit and put bandages and stuff where they belonged on Marcos. After that he picked him up, once again, bridal style and carried him to the car.