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Post by Shea on Mar 10, 2015 3:29:20 GMT
The lights in the hallway are bright even through his eyelids, everything spinning so rapidly he fears he might be sick. His entire body, but mostly his arm, throb with each step he feels Bryant take. It's hard to keep conscious, weak and shivering in the man's arms.
He knew it was a stupid idea, even more because he lied to Bryant about it. But the man... he won't just talk to him. Won't tell Markus the reason he didn't want him to be the one to test the blade because he was too afraid to lose him. Instead he yells, he demands Broker do it. He forbids it. And Markus is not a child. He is not someone to be ordered around like a serf.
So he lets Broker slice his arm. Lets himself nearly bleed to death. It's stupid and pathetic and petty, and he groans as Bryant lays him on their bed, the normally soft sheets harsh and cold. He wants to be back in Bryant's arms, pressed against his warm chest. But trying to open his eyes makes the room spin worse than it already is, and he can't seem to remember how to move his body.
Instead of he gives up, head lolling as darkness seeps into his conscious. "Sorry," he thinks he hears himself mumble. And he is. God, he is. For jumping into something like this without doing as much research as he could have. For the loss of the other man's warmth. For the anger he caused in him.
But he isn't sorry for making him worry. Because if he can't make himself say it.. how much could he really care?
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Post by Lizzie on Mar 14, 2015 10:32:15 GMT
Bryant is seething. He's as pissed as he could ever remember being. Memories of blood and flames and the sharp loneliness of life biting into him like a dagger to his gut. He doesn't want to feel that again. He doesn't want to be EMPTY he doesn't want to be lost and it's so hard to just tell Markus that that is exactly how he'd feel if he were to die. Lost. It's hard to say because it's an admission of something. It's an admission that he's not as strong or tough or cool as he tries to act. He's childish and needy and LONELY.
He punches the wall after he lays him on the bed. Markus had felt so light and it fucking terrified him. he looked pale and...did he just mumble an apology? He's not sure but it's a fine fucking time to apologize now. Like a child he wants to scream and cry and shout petty words and throw a tantrum but instead he looks at the man on the bed. Bryant knows connie will be coming up before too long but he still looks at the man who'll probably not hear a thing he says. He's shaking so he has to say it before his whole body collapses into a jitterying, worried mess. He hates this. Hates this feeling, this dependence.
"You don't get it. You don't ever fucking get it." He growled, pacing. "You act so damn reckless like you have a fucking deathwish. Do you WANT to die? Because I don't fucking want you to. I'd go fucking crazy" He waved a hand in front of him, cutting through the air. "I want you to fucking live and I'm my father's son so I know what i'd do if you died." He clenched his jaw, tossing an accusing look to the man on the bed, eyes full of pain and worry. "Least you could have fucking done is tell me the truth. Let me be there. I know you have shit to do and we're never going to be safe but goddamn it...be smart about it. Trust me. Fuck." He could finally feel the pain in his knuckles from punching the wall and tried to shake it off, collapsing in a chair by their bed.
His stomach twisted as he looked at the other hunter his fire somewhat fizzled out. "I love you...but you were reckless and i'm still pissed at you for it." Bryant reached over to brush markus's hair out of his face.
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Post by Shea on Mar 20, 2015 12:57:56 GMT
It's like he's underwater, Bryant's words garbled and distant and in the next instance he hears him clearly. He wants to open his eyes, wants the dizziness to fade, but the most he can to is turn his head towards the fingers pushing hair from his face. He doesn't want to lose Bryant's touch -- and he knows it's him, even without hearing his voice -- again. He's so cold.
**
"Nothing is ever boring around here, is it?" Sierra asks. The smile on her face fades into a grimace when she sees Markus so pale. Letting her bags drop to the floor with a thud, she casts a glance behind her to Connie and then over to Bryant. "You two, I swear. It's always something."
She's at the bed quickly, shooing Bryant away, ignoring how Markus shudders and makes a noise in the back of his throat as she picks up his arm. "Blasted Spear," she hisses, fingers running over the wound. She looks to Connie, and then Bryant. "Gonna need you to hold him down. Blood loss isn't his biggest issue right now. That blade is a cess pool of infection."
Really, they hadn't even been smart enough to clean it? Holy weapon or no, blood of centuries left to rot had done it's work. She could see a multitude of difference strains, some old enough that she hadn't realized were still around, starting to course through Markus' veins. She urged them to grip his shoulders, and warned, "This is going to hurt."
Resting her hand over the middle of the cut (at least it was shallow, and straight, she supposed) she slowly drew it back, humming softly under her breath as she did and her eyes closed. It was hard, searching through every cell and drawing the poison away. Soon enough beads of sweat were on her brow, but she fell farther into the calming warmth of healing. She was immune to how her body started to ache. Immune to how hot it now felt in the room.
She was immune to how Markus thrashed. And how loud he screamed, only broken by sobs of Bryant's name and pleas.
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Post by Lizzie on Mar 21, 2015 0:27:11 GMT
Bryant looked at her, worry obvious in his eyes. He couldn't even hide it right then. He bit his lip in anger, in frustration, and worry. Why hadn't they thought to clean it off? What was it just "Sure let's do it. What's the worst that could happen?" Markus was usually so smart, though not so careful. Idiot. But Bryant loved him and hated himself for it sometimes for how weak and scared it made him in moments like this.
He used his strength to pin him to the bed with one hand and soothed him with a hand against his forehead. He'd be too delirious to remember it, it'd be okay. Right? It'd definitely be okay. Markus was stubborn as fuck and Sierra was powerful. "It'll be okay." he said under his breath, more to himself than Markus.
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Post by Shea on Mar 21, 2015 4:56:22 GMT
Sierra's timing couldn't have been more perfect. She'd nearly been gone a week, and to come back right then? She thanked whatever gods were listening. With all the poison that had been on that blade, even an hour later and she may have been able to do nothing but numb Markus' pain or end his suffering. She drew out most of it, and when she finally sat back, breathing hard and sweating, she saw Markus' eyes open and watching her.
"Welcome back," she smiled. And if she looked bad then, he looked worse. She pressed a hand to his forehead. "I did all I can... you're going to feel like you had a cold for the next few days." She stood on weary legs, running her hands against the soft gown covering her legs.
"Better a cold than dead," Markus returned, his voice rough and weak. She smiled at him again, knowing it was his way of thanking her.
"You're welcome. Now... before I go to my room and sleep for the rest of the day, is anyone else dying? No?" She shook her head, but there was a fond little grin on her lips. "Never a boring day," she said to herself as she hefted her bags back onto her shoulders. As she left the room, she poked her head back. "Bryant. Do try to make sure he eats. He loses more and more weight every time I see him."
Markus groaned when she finally left, bringing a shaking hand to his face. "Fuck, that was stupid..." he grunted.
Connie laughed aloud. "Well! That's my cue to leave!" And the curvy woman quickly bustled out of the room.
Left alone, Markus sucked in a quiet breath. Bryant would ever follow suit, or he'd start drilling into Markus about how much of a moron he'd been. Right then, the blond hunter wasn't sure what would be worse..
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Post by Lizzie on Mar 21, 2015 12:45:56 GMT
He wanted to fucking ream him, repeat the tirade of words he had before when Markus was too out of it to hear him or pay him any mind. Instead, he set his jaw and stood from the bed. The hunter turned on his heels and marched out of the bedroom with purpose. Normally he might slam the door behind himself but this time he didn't. He was a little more conscious of the man's pain, if only a little. Bryant didn't think about what his lover might be thinking nor did he think to give the other any sort of warning about where he was going before he took the stairs down into the bar.
Once on the ground floor he turned left to head into the kitchen. Fuck if he knew what he could make or give him to eat but his aunt had a point. Booze and dick was not a well balanced meal and he was pretty sure they both needed to remember that. Jerking open the fridge he dug out a few things, juggling them with a package of sandwich meat dangling from his mouth as he kicked the door closed and turned to be greeted by Broker.
He scowled. Sure, Markus was a stubborn shit, but this guy could have done something...atleast cleaned the damn blade. Wasn't he a professional? Letting the stuff he had spill out on the counter, he wrinkled his nose. Another damn pretty boy. just what they needed.
"Is Markus...." Broker started to ask, keys in his hand. He was obviously heading back to the garage. And why was Matteo taggin' along behind him?
"He'll live." Bryant's response was clipped, bitter even. Then, somewhere in the back of his head he heard his aunt scolding him for his lack of sensitivity and sighed, slathering mayo onto two slices of bread. "He's bad off but he's gonna be okay. Sierra is a miracle worker." Still, he couldn't help but through in a jab. "Next time, you guys gotta clean the ancient blades before you go cutting someone up, alright? He could have died and you can bet your ass once I've shoved this down his throat and made sure he's still not gonna die he's gonna hear the same damn thing."
Bryant sighed and shook his head before snatching up a bottle of water and heading out of the kitchen with the sandwich. When he got back to the room he closed the door a bit harder than he'd intended, his frustration rising to the surface again. Seeing Markus, however, the frustration simmered down and he was left with a foreign feeling in his cut. He didn't like it, the knot that formed there.
"Hey?" he called to markus, making sure he had his attention before presenting the sandwich and water. "You gotta eat. Come on."
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Post by Shea on Mar 21, 2015 16:22:59 GMT
Markus wasn't too surprised when Bryant left without a word. It stung, a knot building in his throat that made his eyes burn. He blinked quickly, rolling onto his side to wrap his arms around one of the pillows. He would have rather been screaming at. The silence, unsure if Bryant would even come back, was worse.
But he knew he deserved it. He'd made brash calls before, he'd made mistakes -- but that hadn't been a mistake. That had been stupid and petty. He should have looked more into the spear. Any other time and he would have. But something about fighting with Bryant, about always feeling like he was on eggshells, never knowing if what he was going to say or do would be okay... it made him react like a moronic teenager. And he was too old for that. This life was too dangerous for it.
He'd finally closed his eyes and accepted that right then, he just needed sleep, when he heard the door slam. He tensed as he looked up, wondering if Bryant had decided to yell at him afterall. But he was holding... water and food, when he came over. "What..." he mumbled, wincing as he pushed himself up. His body protested fiercely, and he had to bite down a scowl. Colds didn't give you body aches.
He took the offered food, setting it on his lap as he drank from the water bottle. He hadn't realized how dry his throat was. When he finished it completely, he offered Bryant a weak smile. "Thanks," he said, looking to the sandwich. It sort of... boggled his mind, that Bryant had made him food. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd actually sat down and eaten. He usually just grabs bites of whatever was laying around when he walked through the kitchen.
He took a bite, his stomach growling loudly, and he felt a flush creep up his cheeks. So now, on top of making idiotic decisions that almost got him killed... he also couldn't properly take care of himself. Great. He set the sandwich down, looking over to Bryant. "When was the last time you ate?" he asked.
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Post by Lizzie on Mar 21, 2015 19:13:54 GMT
Bryant waved the question off and pointed to the sandwich. "I'm fine, eat." He made a face and ooked away crossing his arms. "You need to be more careful. Take better care of yourself."his jaw clenched and that knot in his stomach twisted again. "Do you got some kinda death wish?" And inside part of himself was screaming about his fear, about how he'd feel if he'd lost him, about what he might do or who he might become...but he swallowed down those words and feelings and just looked over him.
There was no glare when he looked at him but rather concern he couldn't hide. Behind those eyes he was a worried, stupid boy all over again, even if the rest of him might be somewhat good at hiding that. "Don't do that again, Markus. Really...don't lie to me or try to fucking distract me so you can go off and do something stupid. Hello, I could have cut myself with the damn thing. My body heals faster."
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Post by Shea on Mar 22, 2015 21:57:03 GMT
Markus frowned, but he did take a small bite of the sandwich. He kept silent as he ate, waiting and listening as Bryant spoke -- however few words he said. There was a part of him that wanted to get angry, because that was easier, but he didn't want to fight. He hated fighting with the could-be healer.
"I know," Markus said instead, placing the rest of the food, almost half gone, on the bedside table. His stomach protested at the food, and he didn't want to force more into it. "I wasn't thinking clearly. I made a bad call." There was more to it than that, obviously, but he felt silly admitting it all. He'd keep it simple.
Looking to Bryant, his expression hardened just a bit. "But do not tell me what I can and can't do, alright? Do not forbid me. You might be older than I am, but I'm not a child, and I'm not your charge. Treat me like a fucking equal."
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Post by Lizzie on Mar 22, 2015 23:21:19 GMT
That caused bryant to make a face and as much as he wanted to bite down the anger he couldn't. Instead he nearly snarled when he said. "I didn't forbid you to do shit but not to lie to me. Don't fucking do it and if you feel like that's treating you like a child or inhibiting you then fucking fine. What's the point in whatever this is if you feel like you need to lie to me? Do whatever the fuck you want I just want you to be fucking careful and not to fucking lie to me. That's it." He stormed to the other side of the room motioning angrily. "You don't get it do you? I'm not your fucking father. And yeah I don't own you so you can do whatever the hell you want but I worry about you because if you did something and got your self fucking killed or close to it I'd become my father in a heartbeat to you save you and that's goddamn terrifying. You get hurt and I feel weak. I feel helpless like a goddamn child."
Bryant wanted to punch a wall or run or anything to take his outburst back but it was out there and the words kept spilling from his mouth. "You're fucking smart, you're great at what you fucking do so yeah you're my equal or else I wouldn't be here. I don't want someone to save or coddle. I was fucking worried about you. Wanted you to be safe and what? You go and be stupid about it and fucking lie to me. It's not because you're not my equal it's because you're not invincible and I can't stand losing someone again alright?" He let out a frustrated sound and pressed his face into his hands. The knot in his stomach felt as if it were trying to claw his way up his throat but he calmed himself the best he could before leaning against the wall. He didn't say anything else. Anger and a number of other emotions whirling around inside of him. He should have just left. Should have just walked out.
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Post by Shea on Mar 22, 2015 23:47:46 GMT
Markus kept quiet as Bryant ranted those angry words. He drew his knees up, resting his elbows against them and pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. There was throbbing in his temple. He hadn't wanted to fight, but it looked like Bryant did, and now he felt like a he was a child being scolded by his parent.
He wanted to focus on the admittance of worry; that Bryant was terrified of losing him. But he couldn't. Instead he pushed himself up from the bed, doing his best to ignore the way his legs threatened to buckle. Gritting his teeth against the way to room spun, he forced himself to breath until he felt more steady.
Looking at Bryant, at the clear desire the other showed in wanting to be anywhere else in the world than in a room with him, he felt sick to his stomach. He hated seeing how angry he could make Bryant. But he was just as good at turning every other emotion into rage as the other man was. "You are your father's son," he said, voice low. He kept his tone neutral, even though he wanted to scream. "But you aren't him. You won't be him unless you LET yourself."
He knew Bryant was terrified of becoming that evil. He knew the other refused to heal because of it. But he was so tired of feeling like that was what he was more afraid of. Maybe he was stupid, for hoping Bryant's biggest fear would be losing HIM. Without another word, Markus forced himself from the room, ignoring how tight his throat felt and the burning in his eyes. One thing he would take to heart: that he should be more careful. He had research to do on that spear, and the other items out there like it.
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Post by Lizzie on Mar 23, 2015 0:23:31 GMT
There was a part of him that wanted to snap back. To tell him he STILL didn't get it. He wanted to leave. He SHOULD leave. he should stop there but he didn't. Instead, he walked and grabbed the arm that wasn't hurt and pulled markus back and picked him up. He wasn't light...well he was lighter than Bryant was used to but he wasn't going to let him just keep pushing himself. "One fucking word and I swear to god I WILL use my power to knock you out." He said through his teeth. "You're still not getting it are you?"
The part of bryant that was still that weak, kind boy deep, deep inside wanted to cry in frustration but he steeled his expression as he brought markus back into the room and sat set him more gently than usual on the bed. "I would risk being my father, I would risk that evil if it meant bringing you back. if it meant saving you. That's why it's so damn terrifying. Terrifying to have someone mean that much..." he flopped in a chair by the bed and hid his eyes behind his hand. "If you mean that much then losing you just...I can't do it. I can't fucking do that again. Especially not with you." he spat his last words like a bitter child. "So just lay right the fuck there and if i'm making you feel like a child by saying that get better and punch me."
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Post by Shea on Mar 23, 2015 0:45:41 GMT
When Bryant grabbed his arm, he expected fury on the other's face. He half expected him to tell him that he was done with him. Being picked up and brought back to bed was so far from what he knew, that it kept him stunned. He didn't put up a fight, and he didn't speak. He didn't trust himself to, even after Bryant finished talking.
He hated being an easy crier, and he bit the inside of his cheek to stop the tears. Again he was hit with the feeling of wanting nothing more than to be pressed close to Bryant. And if Bryant was going to say all that, admit all that, then he could, too. He held out a hand, Bryant too far for him to actually touch.
"Come here?" he said instead, words more like a question than a request or demand. He held his breath, terrified that Bryant would deny him, but when the other finally stood and slowly crossed the room, he grasped his wrist. "I'm sorry. I... I'm not good at this. And... shit. You know I'm paranoid as fuck, and that I can still act like a rotten child..." he swallowed the lump in his throat, tugging on the man's wrist. "Sit with me? At least for a little while. I... I'm sorry. Sometimes... hell, most of the time, it's just... so much fucking easier to assume the worst. To go to extremes to.. fuck, to see how you react. Because we don't... we don't fucking talking, okay? And I know you're not the only one at fault for that. I know I'm just as much a reason for it. So it's just... easier to act stupid, to do rash things, because I can read your reactions.."
He felt like an utter moron for admitting it aloud, and he waited in scared silence.
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Post by Lizzie on Mar 23, 2015 1:14:08 GMT
He watched Markus and the knot in his stomach, the anger subsided. He just...it wasn't there and he didn't know why but maybe it was knowing and understanding him. He sat down next to him and look over his face and nodded. "Yeah I know....and we fight. It's just how we are." sighing he pressed a hand to the other's chest to make him lay back. "It's easier for me, too. I'm sorry." those words for hard for him to say and he didn't feel like himself as they left his lips.
"I just really...I've got so much fucking pride and I'm so damn angry and I think what I like about you so much is you push my damn buttons but it makes me clash with you too but I can't lose you. I would gladly set this whole fucking place on fire and watch it burn, even if you hated me, just to keep you alive. To keep you safe. Even if you're so damn irritating." he gave a half laugh and moved to sit with his back against the wall and kicked his boots off.
"Just..get some rest, alright? I'm still gonna get payback for you lying to me later so don't get to comfortable or sappy." he added as if to save some of his rough facade.
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Post by Shea on Mar 23, 2015 2:16:17 GMT
Markus had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, and he rolled his eyes. He felt... better. So much better. He knew they'd come across more problems, and knew that soon they'd end up fighitng again because one or the both of them refused to actually talk to the other. But right then, with them at least at some understanding, it was enough.
He shrugged out of his shirt and jeans, his body more than ready to finally collapse and sleep. "I'll try to remember that you owe me some sort of punishment," he teased, grimacing as he tried to roll his shoulder. He was going to ache for day, he could already tell. "Just... do me a favor and wait until the rest of this passes, okay?" He laid down, close enough to touch Bryant, but not brave enough to try to, God forbid, cuddle. "And let me just enjoy this moment," he nearly whispered.
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