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

"I didn't know it was going to go that far," Cyrus admitted, "I didn't know I was going to be drinking at all until it happened. Obviously I didn't mean to worry you, so I'm sorry."
He let out a soft exhale. "And of course, love. That's probably something we both need right now."
He sank in closer to Marcus, taking in the other's warmth.
"Just let me know if I can do anything else for you."
(For sure. Plus there's a surprising amount of overlap between psych and public health. That's one of my specific public health interests which is part of why I'm minoring. Plus my friends know which professors and classes are good, so I can just ask them questions.)

“And I forgive you.” Marcus gave the other a soft smile and nodded along. He understood that. He knew how alcohol was. He himself had done it for so long. Marx did it too. He was kinda used to it at this point.
“Just this is fine, Cy. I love you so much. Thank you for being here while I recover. Now we can do it together.” He mused, gently pushing on Cyrus’s shoulder to get him to lay down more.
“How are you feeling?”

"I'm okay, I think," Cyrus replied, "Just worried, you know?"
He shifted so that Marcus could get comfortable lying down with him. "I took some Tylenol before I left my place to help with the headache and muscle aches, and those seem to have let up. And as for my actual injuries, they're… healing, if a bit uncomfortable. Still can't walk on my own, but it's not the worst I've done."
"God, I love you so much. You didn't deserve any of this. But I'm so glad you're here."

Marcus tucked his injured hand close to his chest and snuggled into Cyrus, letting out a deep sigh.
“That’s good. Tylenol will help a lot. And I’m glad you’re healing well. Nothing feels wrong or anything? Are the stitches still holding up? I wonder when we need to pull those out…” he muttered, his eyes slipping closed and his body relaxing slowly against the other.
“Mm I’m glad you’re here with me too… you deserve all the good in the world… and I did deserve this last pain, it’s payment for being so stupid in the first place. But that’s all in the past now. We’re free…”

(OOP FORGOT TO REPKY TO YOU SORRY!!, yeah there is a big overlap! It’s amazing to see it! Lots of good things in psych can be applied to the normal public health system! Because psych stuff affects bodily functions a lot.)

"Should probably give it a few more days," Cyrus replied, "As long as I keep the areas clean, it'll be alright. The wounds were really deep so I'm a little concerned, but nothing feels worse than I would expect it to."
He let out a frustrated sigh.
"You really didn't, but you're so lucky it wasn't worse. And lucky that Pollux stepped in. While I would've given all I had to help you, I've never had to deal with that kind of injury before, so I don't know if I would've known what to do as well as he did."
He laughed softly to himself and let his mind wander to block out the more negative thoughts.
"So the reason I already had crutches was because I fuckin'… blew out my knee in high school. Got in a fight I shouldn't have. You know how it is. But you should've seen the other guy."
(You're good lol. And yes! Plus the fact that mental health is treated as a public health issue. It's a huge deal. I'm taking a class on poverty and public health, and we've been talking about connections between poverty and mental health issues. It makes me so angry how broken the system is, but I'm so grateful that we're being educated on it so that some of us will hopefully step up to the plate and take steps to help fix it.)

“I’m glad you’re healing.” Marcus sighed softly, playing with the collar of Cyrus’s shirt for a moment or two. “Pollux is a nice guy. He’s only trying to keep you safe.” He added softly, looking up at Cyrus. “It’s why he was so mad…”
Marcus didn’t comment any more on the subject, not wanting to upset Cyrus.
He laughed softly when Cyrus mentioned the crutches, shaking his head and giggling lightly.
“You’re so tough, my love. Strongest out of everyone I’ve ever met. You’re my favorite.”

"I- yeah… I know…" Cyrus agreed softly, "He's definitely perfectly valid in his anger."
He shook his head a bit and moved on.
With a laugh, he shrugged.
"I'm not that tough- at least, not any more than the next guy. But I'm glad you appreciate my uh… shenanigans, it you would so call them that. That fight, for once, was not gang-related at all."
He flashed a little smile.
"Sometimes I wish that had been the extent of it. That I grew up in a rough town, a rough school, and I learned to hold my own. But no, that kid learned the hard way I'm much more hardened than I act. That I've been trained for fights beyond a brawl after school, and have in fact been trained for harm that far extends the damage usually done in a fight. I'm- I'm honestly molded to be something just short of a monster, in my eyes. I've carried out more hits than I can remember."

(Sorry again! Was at my cousins house and I’m bad at communicating it seems 😂 but yesss! I feel you! The education is really nice, I feel like people aren’t as judgy towards me when I tell them I’m on medication. I mean it’s just for anxiety and the depresso but I still get weird looks every now and then)

“You’re way tough, Cy. More than you know you are. But you know how to be kind as well. You do so much for me and Pollux. What you’ve done in the past doesn’t define who you are. What you’ve trained to be can be untaught. You’re no monster, my love.”
Marcus slid up as best he could, peppering kisses across Cyrus’s neck and face.
“You’re more of a Wolf. A big fluffy, cute wolf. Yes you’ve had to defend yourself and you’ve been hurt by people and you’ve hurt people but you’re not a monster and you’re not all bad. You’re my big strong man and you’re all I could ever ask for. So sweet and caring.” Marcus purred softly, nuzzling Cyrus playfully and smiling. “And I am yours.”

(Yeah, we were actually just talking about how chill our generation is when it comes to talking about mental illness. It's really cool of us to make it no longer as taboo.)
Cyrus almost tried to protest it, but it was no use. God, Marcus loved him way too much, even when he was so dangerous. Attack dogs rarely could completely unlearn their training. Forever, he feared there would be a lingering violence within him, and of course, ample physical ability to hurt.
He gave a halfhearted smile as the other nuzzled into him.
"I love you a lot," he murmured, trying to affirm that over the roar of worry in the back of his mind.
What if I hurt him one of these days? Or worse? I could snap, and it'd be over- or some freak accident could happen… It would be too easy for me to do…
Cyrus let out a shaky breath. Although he could feel the panic rising back into his throat and chest, he managed to push it down just enough to function, just enough to keep his focus on Marcus and Marcus alone.

(I love it!! It’s doing wonders. Sure we’re far from perfect but that’s okay. Small steps at a time. Always works well but you have to be patient with it.)

Maybe Marcus just had a thing for dangerous men? Either way he didn’t see Cyrus as mean or dangerous or unstable. He saw Cy as someone just like him: hurt, abused, broken, and in need of lots of love. Marcus would give him all the love in the world to help him.
“I love you much much more, Cyrus, baby.” He murmured, giggling softly. “You’re my everything. And I’m going to do my best to please you. I’ll help you with anything too. Just ask me and I’ll be there.”

Cyrus fell completely silent.
There's so much more you can't help me with. You don't even understand.
He brushed a few hairs away from Marcus' face.
It would be so easy to kill him… he has so much trust in you… he's so vulnerable.
What the fuck. Why the fuck would I think that?
He tangled his hand in Marcus' hair a little more, trying to ground himself. The thoughts creeping up were distressing, to say the least. He was feeling oddly disconnected from the moment. Perhaps dissociating again or something.
Then the doorbell rang. Cyrus jolted and flipped out his pocket knife without thinking.

Marcus let out a soft purr-like sound at the touches, leaning into them with a bright smile. He wasn’t aware of any of the dark thoughts that sometimes clouded Cyrus’s mind. Though intrusive thoughts were things he often had, most having to do with harm to himself.
When the doorbell rang and Cyrus reacted, Marcus was immediately sitting up straight. A bolt of pain shot through his arm as he pushed on his injured hand to sit up, twisting his face into a grimace. He held his injured hand close to his chest, cradling it as he looked between Cyrus, the knife, and the door.
“W-who is it?” He asked in a near whisper, shuddering at the thought that this could be someone after them. Maybe the police had gotten a call about a gunshot and they had found Marx’s body. Maybe they already had Marcus pinned and he was going to prison for the rest of his life. Maybe it was one of Marx’s gang members who found out what happened some way and they were coming to take revenge or to take the spot of leader from him. Maybe it was someone to do with Cyrus’s gang and they were coming to hurt Cyrus for getting rid of his dad. Maybe Nina had ratted them out to the police… that one seemed far fetched but it was still a possibility.
There were too many things that could go wrong.

After staying tense for a moment, Cyrus shook his head.
"Christ, I'd almost forgotten we'd ordered food," he murmured, folding the knife back in.
He started to get up, limping as he went to grab the money off the counter.
This was the first time he'd walked without help from crutches since he'd been injured. And probably the last time for a bit. He just needed to be able to hold the bags on his own.
"Sorry for startling so hard," he said to Marcus, "It's instinct at this point."

Marcus let his guard down, gently lowering himself back onto the couch with a soft, relieved sigh.
“Food… I forgot too.” He mumbled, placing a hand over his mouth. The thought of eating made him want to throw up. He’d try regardless of the nausea and dizziness that took captive of his body. He would regret not trying later.
“You’re okay. It just scared me. I have a similar instinct.”

Cyrus walked up to the door and paid the delivery guy. He took the bags of food to the coffee table in front of Marcus.
"I'm gonna go let Pollux know the food is here, okay?"
He limped back over to grab his crutches and made his way towards the bedroom, making sure to knock first.
"Come in," Pollux called hoarsely.
Cyrus peeked through the door. The other man was putting up his nebulizer. He had probably been about to return anyway.
"Food's here," he said, "You doing okay?"
"Mhm. It's important to continue treatment at home after a hospital stay like that, even if I don't have any worrying symptoms. I've been very slightly short of breath and exhausted is all."
He got up from where he was and started walking towards Cyrus.
"You two going to stay the night? I've got the space for it."
"It's probably a good idea, but of course, only if Marcus is okay with it."
"Alright, we'll bring that up to him in a bit. But first, let's eat. I'm starving."
Pollux went into the kitchen ahead of Cyrus to grab some paper plates and utensils, as well as the now-frozen ice cube tray.
"Alright, take what you want. We've got a lot here," he said, plopping down in the chair across from Cyrus and Marcus.
Pollux's hands were shaking as he grabbed a plate, but he seemed unbothered by it.
Cyrus grabbed his own plate and looked at Marcus.
"Did you want anything yet?" he asked, "You can just work on some ice for now if not."

Marcus simply nodded to Cyrus and watched him walk off to grab Pollux. With a soft sigh he sat up to take a look at the food, scowling at it’s absolutely wonderful smell. It wasn’t fair. Not one bit. He rubbed at the bandages around his hand and frowned as he thought over what had happened.
His hand was starting to hurt. Bad. He felt a slight phantom throbbing from the fingers he was missing - the pinky and ring finger and a good chunk out of his middle - but they weren’t there anymore. He felt like he could still curl and move those fingers just fine, despite there being a gap in his fingers. He grimaced and held the injury close, grinding his teeth.
When the other two males returned, Marcus was curled up in the corner of the couch. He gladly slid forwards when he saw Cyrus, smiling weakly and looking a lot more tired than he had before.
“I’ll try a little… but I would like ice cubes. My throat is dry…”

"Yeah, here," Cyrus said, taking the ice tray and pulling free a couple of cubes to put into an empty cup, "Try that, and see if that gets you feeling any better. Then I'll get you some soup."
Once he gave this to Marcus, he started preparing his own plate. He got some veggie fried rice, tofu, and a spring roll to start out with, then set the plate on the arm of the couch. Pollux did the same, but he was quieter than he'd been earlier.
The meds had kicked in, and they made him feel jittery, even if he was feeling less sick.

“Thank you, love.” He said softly, taking the cup from Cyrus and staring at the ice cubes inside for a moment. He popped one into his mouth and focused on it while Cyrus got his food.
Marcus waited patiently, watching Cyrus so he could snuggle up against him the second he returned to the couch.
His eyes wandered for a moment, however, as he watched Pollux carefully. He had noticed the shaking and hadn’t wanted to comment on it before.
“Pollux? Are you going to be okay…? You keep saying you are but you’re jittery right now. And you sounded bad earlier.”

"Mm, yeah," Pollux replied after downing a mouthful of rice, "That's just my meds making me all shaky."
"Yeah, that much is normal," Cyrus confirmed softly, letting Marcus rest on him as he ate.
"If nothing else, I'm at least familiar with how I'm feeling. It's easy enough to know my limits after this long."
"Still sucks. I'm sorry you landed yourself in the hospital over all of this."
Pollux shrugged.
"Probably should've seen someone sooner. I had the flu, and that started a couple of weeks ago. I've been struggling with insurance for my usual meds, so I was off them at the wrong time and it got out of control. As it does."
Cyrus scowled.
"That's shitty of them. I know that was a problem before too, wasn't it?"
"Ugh, yeah. I've been pretty vocal about it too."
Pollux shifted his attention back to Marcus.
"So yeah. I'm okay, aside from being tired, which is completely to be expected."

“I didn’t know they could change insurance on meds… that sounds shitty. Why does this government suck?” He asked with a pout, closing his eyes for a moment as he processed it all. Should he try medication to help his issues? Did he qualify for medication? What would he even need it for? Anxiety? Depression? Those suicidal thoughts that still creeped into the darkest corners of his mind?
“It’s all normal then? For your situation?” He asked once Pollux had confirmed he was alright. “I thought medication helped? I haven’t used any for their intended purposes though. I wouldn’t exactly know. Only did opioids for pain relief, at first, then got hooked cuz they made a lot of the pain fade.” He admitted, tapping on his leg nervously. “Won’t take painkillers now. Well, only when I really need them. Like with this,” he held up his hand for a moment. “But never anymore.”

"Yeah… They won't pull shit like that for my emergency meds, but they're happy to fuck with coverage on my long-term control meds," he explained, "Still messed up, though."
He took another bite of noodles and gave a slight nod.
"Yup, it'll mostly go away after a bit. Honestly pretty slight side effects to deal with when compared to y'know, not being able to breathe. It's a little more intense than normal, but they gave me some steroids to take too, so not unexpected."
"Oh good," Cyrus murmured, "That'll help a lot, yeah?"
Another nod in reply.
"Marcus, that's a completely valid response to your experience. But just know you can safely take things like Tylenol and Advil for your pain. They're not as strong, but not addictive at all. Either way, I'm glad you were able to stop taking them entirely. It's tough. Addiction is… nasty, to say the least. And honestly, nothing to be ashamed of. If you ever do relapse, I can always connect you to resources that'll make it easier than pushing through alone."
His gaze flitted over to Cyrus. To his knowledge, Cyrus wasn't even fully aware he had a problem. And it hurt. Plus, now was a bad time to bring it up. But with Cyrus, was there ever a good time?

Marcus listened in with wide eyes as he finished one ice cube and moved onto the next, thankful for the fluid intake. The cold state of the water made him feel a little more dizzy than usual but he expected it to.
“I guess side effects are better than actually having the big issue.” He hummed gently, sitting up a little so he could rest his head on Cyrus’s shoulder.
His eyes locked onto Pollux when the other addressed him, shrinking slightly as if expecting scorn.
None came.
He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, nodding gently at the offer. “Thank you… I’ll definitely take you up on that if I do relapse. I’ve stayed pretty far away from opioids and most painkillers, even the Tylenol and Advil stuff. It just scares me to think I could end up there again… I can hardly remember the years I was on them.”

"Of course," Pollux replied, grabbing for another spring roll, "It's always good to have something to fall back on, though I hope you never have to go through that again."
Cyrus let out a relieved sigh. He was glad Pollux seemed to like Marcus. After all, despite his association with Cyrus, he had done nothing wrong.
"Hey, just let me know if you decide you want anything," Cyrus told Marcus softly, gesturing towards the food, "How's the ice for you?"

“Thank you. I’ll do my very best to never get back to that point. I have a new life ahead of me.” He hummed, gently stealing away one of Cyrus’s hands so he could play with his fingers.
“Thanks, love, I might try a little bit of soup in a little bit if that’s okay. Still feeling sick. The ice is doing wonders though, I can stomach the water.” He brought the h as no he was playing with to his lips in a gentle kiss; a soft ‘thank you’ for the care. “It’s starting to hurt really bad though…”

"Oh… jeez… Want me to get you some medicine? I know you're hesitant, but I promise there's nothing addictive in what we would give you, love," Cyrus soothed, "I can get you some soup too, when you're ready."
He rubbed Marcus' shoulder, a concerned glint in his eye. The other was probably hurting a lot more than he was letting on, too.
"I love you, and I'll do anything you need, okay? All you need to do is ask."

Marcus shifted nervously at the thought of more medication. But he trusted the two males he was with. They wouldn’t make him uncomfortable or step past his boundaries unless it was urgent.
“I-I guess that would be good… a painkiller like Tylenol or something…” he murmured, tense shoulders slowly relaxing from the rub.
“I love you too, Cy. You do too much for me already and I’m so grateful for you.” He flashed a small smile and sighed softly. “Could I get a little bit of soup?”

"Mhm, of course," Cyrus said, grabbing for a bowl and pouring Marcus some soup from the big plastic container.
Pollux meanwhile leaned over to the small table next to him and picked up the bottle of Tylenol he had grabbed while back in the bedroom. He figured Marcus would eventually need some, so he had come prepared. He placed it on the coffee table with the food and pushed it towards Cyrus.
"Just let me know what you want, and if you need help with anything," Cyrus said, holding the bowl of soup, but also gesturing to the medicine on the table.

Marcus thanked both men softly, reaching forwards to take the Tylenol. He stared at the bottle, biting his lip as Cyrus got the food. He looked up at the other two sheepishly and held the bottle out.
"I can't open it with one hand… could I get some help?" He asked, giving Cyrus an awkward smile. In truth, being so helpless was making Marcus uncomfortable. He didn't want to completely rely on the other two even if he did like the comfort Cyrus was giving him… it was complicated. He needed the attention but he felt like a burden for taking it. Two conflicting feelings he couldn't quite take.
"Thank you…"

"Yeah, here," Cyrus replied, placing the bowl down for a second as he popped the lid off the pill bottle and grabbed a couple for him to take.
He held out his hand with the pills in it, offering them to his partner.
"Don't worry about needing all this help, either," Cyrus said, "You helped me so much when I was healing, and I'll be damned if I don't do the same for you."

Marcus downed the pills quickly, groaning softly. He held out his arms for Cyrus, gesturing for him to come back and cuddle.
“Can you hold me while I eat…?” He asked softly, sheepishly. “I know you want to help me too… I’m just worried I’ll be too much. But if I can have anything, can I have cuddles…?”