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

"Yeah, that's fine," Cyrus said softly, "If that's all we can do right now, that's fine."
He moved towards the edge of the bed, grunting with the effort.
"Ow… Jesus…"
He grumbled a bit, hurt but not too much so.

Marcus watched Cyrus move and immediately made up his mind.
“I’ll call an Uber or a taxi. You’re not walking.” He said sternly, gently pushing Cyrus back towards the bed.
“Just relax for now. I’ll call one up.”

(Guess whose laptop maybe broke!!! :( Might actually just be that the charger broke, but I have no way of knowing rn)
Cyrus bit his lip, then opened his mouth to protest, but it wasn't like he could fight it. Marcus was right.
"Y-yeah, I don't think I can. At least, not without making a scene on public transport," he admitted.
Cyrus ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
"Dammit…"
He could barely even bend his knee because of how the muscle that had been cut moved in reaction, and it had been obvious when he swung that leg over the bedside. Even more obvious when he tried to pull it back up.

(Oh no!!!! I hope it’s just the charger so you don’t have to replace your whole laptop!! I mean I hope nothing is broken and it’s just a malfunction, though if it isn’t, that’s awful)

“It’s okay, I’ll get us a private one.” He offered Cyrus his help, watching the other carefully. Cyrus couldn’t walk. Marcus wouldn’t let him.
“It must be really frustrating, is there anything I can do to help, love? Would you want a massage or something?” He asked, pulling his phone out to order a ride.

(Yeah, its like 7 years old though, so it wouldn't be completely unexpected. Still sucks.)
"I-I don't know," Cyrus replied, "I guess a massage would be nice. Maybe it would relieve some of that tension in my shoulders."
He cast Marcus a faint smile.
"Thanks for taking care of me. It's a lot, and I'm glad I don't have to do this alone."

(Dang, it sucks big time. I hope it works out!)

Marcus returned the smile, setting his phone down once he was done. He slid over to Cyrus and gently rubbed soothing circles into his back.
“Of course. I love you and I’ll always take care of you.”

"Thanks," he muttered, leaning into the gentle massage.
His muscles were so tense from the emotional stress, it was painful. He let out a sigh.
"Sorry about this… I just… ugh…"
Cyrus was clearly frustrated.

Marcus worked out the muscles in Cyrus’s back, letting up when it seemed it hurt more than it did good.
“It’s okay, Cyrus. You don’t have to say sorry.”

"I-I feel like I'm totally at fault, though? I did a sloppy job. And I know you don't mind helping me out, but this feels like I'm relying almost too much on what you've offered. I don't want to be a burden," Cyrus replied, "And if you can't tell, it is the most frustrating thing in the world to me to not be able to move like I want to."

“You’re not a burden. It’s okay to make mistakes, Cyrus. And even if it was a sloppy job it wasn’t a traditional one…” Marcus reassured, leaning into a particular tight knot.

Cyrus groaned slightly upon the added pressure, but it was mostly a sound of relief.
"That's a pretty big fucking mistake though," he sighed, "I dunno, you say someone made a mistake when they get a question wrong on a test, or forget to add an ingredient to their food."
He sighed again.

Marcus took a moment to think it all over, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the other's shoulder. "I don't know what's normal about making mistakes, but in my mind you're not a bad person. I don't know what to say to make you understand that, but I'll try my best."

"I'm shaken that this mistake very nearly killed me," Cyrus replied, "I think that's maybe a normal way to feel. And like it didn't kill me. Great. But there's no telling how long I'll be out of commission."
He was going to turn around to see Marcus, but decided against it because of the bullet wound in his side.

Marcus nodded along gently, resting his forehead against Cyrus's shoulder. His hands still worked on the knots in the other's lower back though he seemed to be a little distracted.
"It is a normal way to feel… I would be more worried if you weren't shaken by it. It's terrifying." For normal people… Marcus had gotten extremely close to death on many occasions, and yet each time he had come out of it extremely disappointed in the fact that he had survived.
It was a problem that was getting better the closer he grew to Cryus.

"Yeah, I guess so," Cyrus replied, "And I didn't die, so I guess all there is left is to press on."
He frowned.
"I… I'm so glad I didn't leave you behind. I can't bear the thought."
With that, a car horn sounded from outside.
"You think that's our ride?"

Marcus wrapped his arms around Cyrus’s middle, trying his best to hide the emotions that overwhelmed him.
“I’m glad you didn’t leave me behind either… I don’t think I-“ he fell silent, whining softly. “I think I’d be successful the next time I attempted… I couldn’t live with it.”
He was saved - in a way - by the honk. It brought him out of his thoughts and had him lifting his head.
“Yeah… that’s probably it. Here, let me help you up,” he slid away from Cyrus and off the bed, offering his hand.

"Ah, thanks," Cyrus said.
He looked away for a moment.
"And Marcus… if you ever need to talk about those thoughts of suicide, don't be afraid to come to me. It's not taboo with me, love. If you need me to help ride out the urges, or to compose your thoughts and feelings, or anything else, I'm here."
Cyrus took Marcus' hand and put all of his weight over on his good leg, carefully draping one arm over Marcus and very gingerly placing down the other foot.

Marcus turned his eyes away, clenching his teeth. “It’s been getting better… I still get really bad urges to hurt myself but I haven’t acted on too many of them recently…” he murmured. “Can I come to you when I get those…? Could you help me with that?”
He let Cyrus balance himself, watching him intently as he waited for both an answer and for an okay to move.

"Absolutely, baby," Cyrus said softly, "Please do."
He gave a very soft smile and nodded to tell Marcus he was ready to go ahead.
Cyrus carefully hobbled forwards, relying a lot on his boyfriend.

He thanked Cyrus softly under his breath, hooking an arm around his waist to steady him. "I love you Cyrus…" He murmured, leading the other through the door and out of the apartment.
He could only assume the angry-looking man sitting in the idling car was their ride. He nuzzled Cyrus softly, whispering soft praises in his ear.

"I love you too," Cyrus replied, "Yeah, that's probably him, huh?"
With Marcus' help, he climbed in the back seat.
"Thanks for the ride," he told the driver, trying his best to be friendly despite the pain.

The response was a soft nod and an even softer 'probably'. Marcus was thinking, and he was thinking deeply. He was trying to sort out what he was going to do in the next few days. Marx had to go. Marcus wasn't free. Cyrus was injured. Cyrus wasn't staying with him.
He had a lot to do in a timeframe that didn't allow much flexibility.
His head shot up when Cyrus spoke, nodding his head in agreement.
"'s just my job." The driver grunted, pulling out of the apartment complex.

Cyrus slumped down in the backseat. He was panting, even from that little effort. The blood loss was still taking quite the toll, plus the pain. It was a lot to handle.
He squeezed Marcus' hand and cast a glance over. Cyrus' eyes were a bit glazed over.
He finally gathered the will to check the text messages from earlier.
Sorry if I've scared you. I'm still in ICU but they've talked about moving me out.

How is everything with you?

Without thinking, Cyrus replied with, I'm fine.
It wasn't really the answer to the question that had been asked. Pollux wanted to know about his dad.
"Ah, shit," Cyrus muttered, slightly irritated.
Of course, he wasn't going to tell Pollux about his injuries. The man needed to focus on healing, not worrying about anyone else. Not that he would worry that much, even given the opportunity.

The driver glanced between the two every now and then, watching as Marcus drew closer to Cyrus and interlaced their fingers.
Though no comment came.
Marcus tilted his head, looking at Cyrus with slight panic at the curse. It had been enough to knock him out of his thought process. "Is everything okay?" He asked softly, nuzzling Cyrus. "Does it hurt?"

He tilted his phone so Marcus could see the messages.
"Yeah, but I was talking about this," he replied.
He let out a sigh as he squeezed Marcus' hand a bit.

Marcus read through the texts quickly, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Are you not going to tell him about your injuries?” He asked quietly, his thumb swiping over Cyrus’s knuckles. “It’s alright if you don’t want to, but it might help make him feel better if he ends up finding out about it later somehow…” he murmured, leaning his head against Cyrus’s.

"I'll tell him when he's out of the hospital," Cyrus replied softly, "He's been doing pretty rough. I don't want to add any more stress."
He let out a sigh.
"Unless you have a reason that might be a bad idea. I'll at least hold off until he's actually shown more improvement."

“Oh I see, go ahead love. That makes sense.” He hummed, smiling gently at Cyrus.
“It would be a good idea to tell him after. But don’t stress about it yourself. Stress isn’t good especially when you need to heal, okay?”

"Yeah…" Cyrus frowned a bit.
"I'm just afraid that he's going to know something is up because of how… automatic my response was. Although his mind probably isn't all there either."

"If he asks about it, it might be smart to say you're injured yourself…" Marcus tilted his head to think over it, biting his lip. "Maybe you could play it off as just being tired or something…? Or a little stressed over everything. It wouldn't necessarily be a lie. You've been stressed about it all, baby." Marcus glanced to the window, noting that they were close before his attention went back to Cyrus.
"It's going to be okay, though, my love. I'll be right here for you."