All Is Hell That Ends With ‘Fair’(Closed ~ One-on-One ~ Rated a possible M)

Marcus took Cyrus’s hand in both of his own, bringing it up to his lips in a soft kiss.
“I know you are baby. You’ve been through so much. You’re so strong for lasting for so long. And now you can rest. You’re free.”

"But you're not," Cyrus replied, "I… I can't allow that."
He closed his eyes.
"Can we go back to the bed?"

“I’ll be free soon enough. I just need a plan.” He promised, but the words seemed to be directed more towards himself.
Marcus was scared. He didn’t want Cyrus to see that, to see just how much of a hold Marx had around him. It made Marcus feel weak, like he wasn’t good enough for Cyrus. Like he wasn’t loyal enough.
“Yeah… yeah. Let’s go back to bed.” Marcus kept a hold of Cyrus’s hand, gently leading the way back towards the bedroom.

Cyrus laid down next to Marcus again. He had trouble getting to sleep, but he eventually was able, since he was still so dead tired. The rest of his night was hard and dark, dreamless sleep. His mind couldn't take much more.

Marcus never really did fall back asleep fully. He dozed off every now and then but his body refused to let him sleep fully.
It had always been that way, unfortunately.
He blamed the trauma that came with waking up to find Marx ready to take him all over again.

Once he was sure he would not be able to sleep at all, Marcus rolled over to watch Cyrus lovingly.

Cyrus slept through the rest of the night. He was a little fidgety here and there, but he didn't wake back up until daylight had peeked through the blinds. He woke up, his vision a bit blurry, and his head throbbing. He was about to roll over, but remembered his injuries and instead sat up slowly to look over at Marcus.

Marcus had his eyes closed but upon feeling the bed shift he opened them and smiled up at Cyrus.
"Good morning, love." He murmured, stretching out his body before he sat up to join the other. "You shouldn't be moving too much. I don't want you to hurt more."

"Yes, I know," Cyrus replied, "I was careful sitting up."
He couldn't quite muster a smile.
"I feel like I've been hit by a truck…"

“Mm… want more medication? It’ll help.” Marcus gently took Cyrus’s hand and offered him a small smile.
“The first days are the worst. Once you get past them you’re okay.”

"Yes please, " Cyrus replied, "My head hurts too."
His voice sounded fragile and pained, but all things considered, he was bearing it well.

“Alright, love, don’t move too much, okay?” He hummed softly, kissing Cyrus’s cheek before he got up to refill Cyrus’s cup and grab him more painkillers.

“Here you go,”

"Don't worry, I don't eveb want to move," Cyrus sighed.
When Marcus returned, he thanked the other softly.
His phone buzzed on the bedside table, and he reached over to see Nina was calling.
He set it on his lap, answered, and put it on speaker phone.
"Hey, what's up, Nina?"
"Well, I managed to get everything cleaned up. That is I didn't do it myself, but- Eh, doesn't matter. What have you decided to do? Like… you said you were staying with someone, right? Your partner? Are you okay?"
"Jesus, Nina. Slow down… my head's already killing me. Yeah, I'm with… I'm with my partner. He's been taking care of me. I was maybe going to come back home for other reasons. Rest and recover there."
"That's up to you. I need to make some meetings and phone calls and shit with other gang leaders in the city. This is a right mess, you bastard. As much as I appreciate it, ughhh…"
Cyrus looked to Marcus.
"Would you be comfortable going there with me later?" he asked.

Marcus climbed back onto the bed, falling silent when Nina called.
He listened in silently, watching Cyrus with loving eyes as he spoke. He absentmindedly chewed on his bottom lip, tilting his head and sighing.
“Yeah… I’d be okay going there.” He murmured softly, offering the other a weak smile.

"Oh, hi," Nina said to Marcus, a little surprised, "You're welcome to come with him. I mean, I'm definitely not taking full responsibility for this dumbass' injuries, but it sounds like you have stuff under control, right?"
Cyrus chuckled to himself.
"I mean, I could've died, but I didn't. I think he's got things pretty under control. He's been great. But hey, Nina. I may have another favor to ask of you when we get home. I promise this one won't be too out of the way."
"Okay, but no promises," she replied sharply, "I have enough on my plate. Though I suppose as long as you're off my back, I don't care that much. God, you got in the way so much when Dad made you do things you didn't want to do. You could just tell you were dragging your feet."
Cyrus leaned towards Marcus.

“Hi, we’ve got it all under control. I’ll take care of Cyrus, don’t worry.” Marcus reassured.
He frowned at Nina’s response, shifting uncomfortably. He leaned closer to Cyrus as well, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Yes well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Marcus replied curtly, a hint of something upset or angry in his voice. It was hard to tell.
“Cyrus and I plan to get as far away from that lifestyle as we can.”

Nina made a little noise of surprise.
"Oh, so you're a gang member too? Nightshade or…?" she replied softly.
"I… uh… he is," Cyrus replied, "Not Nightshade, though."
He shifted closer to Marcus.
"I'll let him share what he wants, if that's okay."
"Doesn't matter. More curious than anything."
Cyrus frowned. He could feel the intent behind her voice. She was going to probably prod Marcus for favors regarding his gang, and he wasn't going to let her have any sort of control over Marcus.

Marcus hesitated for a moment, looking over at Cyrus nervously. He wasn’t sure what he should share but Nina’s gang worked alongside his so he knew he would be semi safe. He knew that she was only asking to see if his gang could do anything for hers. No one was curious about it unless they wanted something. That was the way it worked.
“The Silence…” The name left a bitter taste on his tongue, one that reminded him too much of the life he led while working for them. “If you want something from them I’m not giving it. I don’t have the intention of going back. Talk to Thomas.”
But Marx might force you too… Cooed the little voice in the back of Marcus’s head. He shuddered, drawing closer to Cyrus and even resting his head against the others.
“The only context I’ll give you is this: I’m Lighter.” Lighter, Marx’s bitch. Lighter, the one who could be ‘borrowed’ for favors from Marx.
He hated the name now. It marked him.

"Ah, yeah. I know the name," Nina replied, her interest piqued, "Although I suppose if all you can do is point me in the right direction, I'll take what I can get. Guess you're not much different than he is."
She had been referring to Cyrus.
"Jesus, Nina… Yeah, we'll be by later."

Marcus huffed softly, burying his face in Cyrus’s neck and sighing softly. He was careful not to hurt the other, limiting his contact to purely his neck.
“Mhm… I’ll be with Cyrus too.”

"Yeah, okay. See ya, Cy," Nina finished, her words a bit short and almost snappy.
The call ended.
"She uh… she stresses me out," Cyrus sighed, tilting his head to give Marcus more room to snuggle up to him.
"It should be fine though."
His phone then gave a single vibration, indicating he was getting a text. This one was from Pollux, but he hardly felt like opening it. At least he was still kicking.

“She sounds like a stressor, sorry to say.” He laughed softly, closing his eyes and sighing. Cyrus was always so comfortable, so warm. He really liked being near him.
“We’ll be alright. I know we will.”

"I'm a lot less worried about Nina in particular now," Cyrus replied.
He eyed his phone, which sat in his lap, wondering if he should open the message or save it for later.
"Want to have some breakfast, then work ourselves towards going to my place? Oh wait… shit… I can't just walk there."

Marcus nodded softly, sighing. He breathed in Cyrus’s warm scent, too relaxed to really move at that moment.
But he nodded anyways, knowing Cyrus’s plan was best. Minus the walking.
“Do you have a car? I can drive. Maybe not legally but I know how to drive.” He looked up at Cyrus and smiled softly. “Or we could take the buses.”

(Sorry for the wait, went out with friends today and had a mental health day)

(You're fine, I never mind waiting on a response)
"I… don't," Cyrus sighed, "We can always take a bus. I just hope I can actually walk to the stop, because honestly? I had a whole knife in my leg, and that shit hurt. I don't want to bust open those stitches too."

“Do you have crutches anywhere? I don’t have any sadly… oh gosh I don’t know anymore… I don’t want you walking there either.” Marcus huffed, biting is lip.

"I do, actually, from when I fucked up my knee," Cyrus said softly, "They're at home, though. I mean… my dad's car is also there, and if we could find the keys- God, everything is over at my place, huh?"

“It does seem that way…” Marcus groaned, shaking his head. “What are we going to do? I’m a little scared. And nervous. I’m worried for you, Cy. Worried you’ll get hurt.”
He took the other’s hands, giving them a squeeze.

"I might just have to suck it up," Cyrus sighed, "I mean, I can't really get worse at this point, honestly. And if it makes you feel any better, I'll take it very slowly, so I can find my limits before I do anything too drastic."
He squeezed Marcus' hands back and gave a slight smile.
"I'll be okay, love. Promise."

“Please. I love you a lot and I hate seeing you get hurt…” he murmured, pulling the other closer. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, Cyrus. I can help be your crutch.”