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

Cyrus gave Marcus' hand a gentle squeeze back.
"Yeah, sure, I can keep stirring and all that. Let me just pull up a stool. Sorry I can't even cut some vegetables without freaking the fuck out, though. It's kind of pathetic, huh?"

“You’re not pathetic, Cyrus. Don’t apologize.” He chided gently. “It’s okay to struggle with things.” Marcus had to admit the hypocrisy of his words stung a little. He believed them with his whole heart… when they were directed at Cyrus. When he was telling himself the same things, he really didn’t believe it all that much…
“Besides, if you’re uncomfortable with it, then you don’t have to do it.” He added, mostly to distract himself.

Cyrus let out a heavy sigh.
"Maybe… It's just like- all I can imagine with a knife in hand is stabbing someone to death. Which is fucking hilarious, right? Because I'm a hitman by trade. I killed people for a living. But I'd never brutalized anyone like that before. It was always quick. No hard feelings in my heart, no thought to it if I could avoid that."
He shook his head.
"Anyway, I'll go tend to the pot," Cyrus said, dragging the stool he was using off with him so he didn't have to stand for longer than he could handle at the moment.

Marcus stopped Cyrus before he could fully get to the pot, setting the stood down and wrapping his arms tightly around the other. "Don't blame yourself, Cy. Hindsight is always 20/20 and you'll always think you could have done things differently after the fact. You did what you had to with your father around. You did what you had to do with the mindset you were in. Don't blame yourself. Those situations are hard to get around and you'll always regret. But it's okay." He murmured, nuzzling against Cyrus a moment longer before he moved to set the stool in front of the stove with one hand. He helped Cyrus settle back on his feet, hands on the other's hips. "I love you, Cyrus, darling. I know you're struggling right now, I can see it, and I want you to know that you don't have to do any of it alone. I'm glad you're talking to me and telling me what's going on, I'm very happy you trust me enough with it." He sighed gently, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead. "It's going to be okay now. It's you and me now, we can get through this together."

"I believe you," Cyrus replied, a look of both hurt and determination in his eyes, "I do think we can get through this together, even if it does kind of suck right now.
Cyrus leaned into the other's touch. It was always reassuring to him, and kept him just a little more grounded.
Once in a comfortable position by the stovetop, Cyrus idly sat there, occasionally giving the pot a stir as the broth started to heat up.
"I want to see if there's any way I can find someone who can do therapy for us. It's hard to come by in our position, but even if it's just a slim chance we can find that help, I think we'll both benefit if we do find it. Otherwise, we'll have to make do with medicine and each other. Which isn't a bad worst case scenario, but still. I know usually for someone with mental illnesses like ours, they would probably recommend therapy and medication."

“Eventually we’ll both be feeling better. It’s just a little rough right now especially since we don’t know where to go.” He murmured in return, sighing deeply.
Marcus watched Cyrus carefully even as he moved to finish up the cutting. His eyes wandered every now and then to check on his boyfriend, smiling a little more each time. He was happy to have the other here with him, safe and willing to stay.
“I wonder if there’s an underground therapy situation? One made for people like us… we can’t really go to any normal ones. I feel like they’d arrest us on the spot.” He murmured softly, setting the knife in the sink once he had finished. It’s glint made him shudder slightly. He knew he wouldn’t survive prison and it wouldn’t be any of the other inmates or officers that would be the ones to kill him…
“We should look into it for sure. I know it’s selfish and wrong of me to think this way but… I don’t want to serve time for what I did in order to become a better person. I’m sure you don’t either. I just want the help to get me back on track… my whole lifestyle could have been avoided if I had just been given the help I needed in high school and warned about gangs. Hell it could have been avoided if my dad wasn’t such an abusive prick. I’m not serving time for a situation I should have never been in.” He said bitterly, moving to put the chopped up veggies in the broth. “You should have never been in your situation either, you know. You were raised in a situation you couldn’t control. And now we’re both stuck with heavy consequences that occurred because we had shitty dads who led us to make bad decisions.”

"That's kind of what I was thinking, personally," Cyrus said, "The underground therapy thing, I mean. It's really our only choice."
He idly went back to stirring the pot and let out a sigh.
"I don't want those consequences either. Doing our time won't make us better people, especially not when the focus is always punishment and not rehabilitation. Besides, if I go, I'm going for life, and you know that. You could get out one day probably. But not me. I'm already facing enough consequences as it is. My mind is destroyed, my body is damaged. Besides, I'm not keen on committing crimes like those again, so locking me up wouldn't 'keep a criminal off the streets' or whatever."

Marcus hugged Cyrus from behind and set his chin on the other's shoulder, staring down at the pot. "I don't think I'd be getting out alive…" He admitted quietly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't want you to go to prison either… I want to be with you, near you. I love you lots and I couldn't bare to lose you. You also don't deserve to spend the rest of your life in a cell, Cy. You're not a bad person… You're already a better person. You're not a criminal. If they try taking you away for any reason I'll fight tooth and nail to keep you free and with me." He murmured, pressing his face into Cyrus's neck. "I love you too much to let that happen to you."

"I know, I know," Cyrus agreed, his voice soft and rasping, "And hopefully, that'll never be the case. We… we deserve better after all this shit."
He turned his head around to look at Marcus and give him a quick kiss on the lips.
"We could always leave, you know. If we got enough money," he said, simply thinking aloud, "Just start over somewhere else."

Marcus nodded his agreement, opening his eyes after Cyrus's soft kiss. He looked over the other lovingly, bringing him closer and kissing his cheek with a soft hum. "We could. I wouldn't mind that at all, Cy. But where could we go?" He asked, his eyes focusing back on the pot just to make sure they didn't burn down the place. "Ireland sounds like a pretty place to go, doesn't it? Or maybe Italy or Norway or someplace like that? Somewhere pretty and different than this place. Doesn't that sound so nice? It's almost too good to be true."

"If we could leave the country," Cyrus replied, "Those all sound lovely. But passports could be an issue. Sure, no one really knows about our criminal history, but still, I worry…"
He tilted his head.
"But if not, we could always move across the country. That could also be very wonderful and different. But I'm just- I don't know, I'm just thinking out loud. Do you have anything keeping you here?"

"We could fake them, go by different names. Have new identities far away from our old ones." Marcus was fantasizing at this point, dreaming up a new life for them both. The reality was that he really didn't have anything here. No family that would care about him, no friends, no potential. Marcus was dead in the water already for as long as he was here. He couldn't even get a job anymore.
"I don't really have anything keeping me here… I have you and my violin. It's all I really have. A new life wouldn't be so bad. Hell, we could change our last names, fake ID's and birth certificates and all of that."

"Same, I don't have much keeping me here. Just the old friend here and there. But I can keep in touch. It's not like I was seeing anyone in person anyway," Cyrus said softly, "So no, a new life doesn't sound bad at all. Just a little strange, maybe. Only problem is, forging documents is far from my area of expertise. Sure if you don't know how, either, someone can."
He paused a bit.
"Are we too busy dreaming, or is this really an option?"