Fic: Against The Grain - part four
Title: Against the Grain
Author: Lemondilemma
Artist: Ladytiferet
Pairing: Marcus
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: violence, implied major character death, minor character deaths
Word Count: 34,353
Author’s notes: Heartfelt thanks to the awesome Ladytiferet for the artwork and beta services.
Marcus had almost reached the museum for his evening shift when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He smiled at the thought that it might be Esca.
It wasn’t.
“Lock-up, now.”
“What’s…..” But Placidus had already hung up, the tone of his voice leaving Marcus in no doubt that something bad had either happened or was going to happen. He hesitated for a moment, his divided loyalties warring in his head but this time the Romans won out over anything else. Marcus made a quick call to his boss, feigning sudden illness then turned back and headed for the lock-up.
It was buzzing when he got there and he nodded to the lads in greeting as he pushed through the crowd towards Placidus, taking notice of the sombre and angry faces.
“What’s going on?” Marcus had to raise his voice to be heard.
Placidus turned to face him. “Lutorius is dead.”
“What?” The words hit Marcus like someone had jut kicked him in the gut and kicked him hard.
“He’s dead.” Placidus was almost vibrating with anger, a vein throbbing steadily at the side of his forehead. “The Seals got him. They’re picking people off, one by one. They’ve taken five of us out so far today; Lutorius, two more in hospital and the others fucked up enough that they won’t be any use in a fight for a while.”
“Listen..,” Marcus began but Placidus cut him off.
“You better get your act together Marcus cos we need every man on this. I called everyone here so we can stop them in their tracks, for good.”
“This is all getting out of control. People are dying!”
“We’ll do what has to be done.”
“Jesus Placidus, listen to yourself. When’s it all going to end?”
“When those bastards are gone! You know that. Are you going soft on us Marcus?” Placidus lowered his voice and pulled himself up to his full height, getting right in Marcus’ face. “What would you do? Talk to them? Try and reason with them? Take them out to dinner and ask them to please play nicely?”
“Get out of my face.” Marcus warned him, drawing a few interested looks from the lads nearest them.
“Why are you never here any more, eh? What are you up to? Where do you go?”
“I’m not scared of them if that’s what you’re trying to say.”
“Maybe you’re thinking of running away. Maybe you’re a traitor,” Placidus continued, “just like your dad.”
“Don’t you talk about him,” Marcus snapped. “You’re not fit to mention his name.”
“I know all about him. What was he doing going north, eh? Was he off up there to sell his soul to the devil? To sell us out?”
Marcus clenched his fists and willed himself not to wrap his hands around Placidus’s throat and choke the spiteful little shit to death. “You know nothing about my dad!”
“You Aquilas are all the same,” Placidus goaded. “Your dad got himself slaughtered like a pig and now you’d be happy to let the Seals take over without a fight.”
“I don’t want them here any more than you do!”
“Then show it! You should be here with us, not off on your own all the time. What’s so important? Drusillus says you’re chasing some fucking waitress.”
Life, Marcus thought. A future. Esca MacCunoval. That’s what’s important. “I’m not chasing any waitresses,” he said, frustration gnawing at him like a hundred hungry rats.
“So where have you been? Your precious job doesn’t account for all your time.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Nobody would. God, what he felt for Esca..…Even Marcus had difficulty understanding how he’d fallen so far so fast. He felt as if his whole world was starting to spin out of control and Esca was all he had to hold on to.
“Yeah, you’re right! I don’t understand but at least I know where my loyalties lie.”
Placidus pushed past him and Marcus tried to follow but someone grabbed his arm and he spun round to see Drusillus.
“You hear about Lutorius?”
“Yeah.” Marcus shook his head. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“They’re going down for this, I swear it. They’re going to be crying for their mothers by the time I’m done.” Drusillus cricked his neck, the vertebrae clicking loudly. “Rumour has it they’ve offed a couple of Brigantes too.”
“When?”
“No idea.”
Marcus fought hard to keep any concern off his face as he tried to recall exactly when he’d last heard from Esca. Not since the early hours of the morning when he’d left the flat to go home, declining the offer to stay over, and it was early evening now. He made an excuse and slipped outside, pulling his phone out of his pocket and texting Esca.
Are you ok?
He waited for a while, trying to make it look as if he was just getting some air as he paced up and down, willing a response to appear on his phone. Maybe he should just call but he wasn’t sure he could string two words together with the anxiety that was shredding his insides.
I’m good. Where are you?
Meet me at the flat, soon as you can.
Marcus didn’t bother to go back inside and tell anyone he was leaving. He set off towards home, not even bothering to look back when he heard Drusillus shout after him.
“Marcus! Where are you going? We need to stick together! Marcus!”
He walked fast in his haste to get home, a thousand things circulating around in his head. He jogged down a flight of steps to one of the underpasses, dodging his way between the piles of litter strewn around and striding into the piss-stinking concrete tunnel. A few steps in, he looked up and stopped dead, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end but not alerting him to the danger in time. There were two Seals at the end of the underpass in front of him and he didn’t really have to look behind him to know that there were others there, cutting him off completely. He reached into his pocket but it was empty and he remembered taking his knife out the night before, leaving it lying on the kitchen counter.
“You should pay more attention, Roman,” one of the Seals said, and they all laughed. “Daydreaming can be fatal.”
“Show him, Dergdian,” someone shouted amidst the laughter.
Before he had a chance to turn around and see how many were behind him, Marcus found his arms pinned behind his back.
“No, let him go,” the first Seal ordered. “No point in gutting a sitting duck. More fun to let him think he has a chance.”
Marcus quickly scanned the underpass, looking for anything he could use as a weapon but there was nothing he could use and no way out. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to fight. “No way are you going to move in here and take what’s ours,” he said. “This is Roman territory and you won’t beat us.”
“And yet here you are, all alone with nobody to back you up.” The Seal, Dergdian one of the others had called him, pulled a knife out from under his top and sauntered towards Marcus, all confidence and swagger. “We know all about you, Marcus Aquila and your little Brigantes bitch.” The others started laughing again. “Thought you were being so careful, didn’t you. It was so fucking easy.”
“Are you fuckers going to get on with this or were you just planning to bore me to death?”
A shadow briefly swept over Dergdian’s face and the other Seals advanced but he held up a hand to stop them. “Let’s make it fair,” he said, pointing the knife at Marcus. “Just me and you.”
“I’m not scared of you,” Marcus said through gritted teeth, holding his head high in defiance. “Bring it on.”
They circled each other slowly, sizing each other up and waiting for the right moment to make the first move. Dergdian grinned and deftly flipped the knife from one hand to the other. He knew he had the advantage but Marcus wasn’t one to be easily intimidated. He was ready. Dergdian lunged at him, the hand holding the knife extended. He was fast and Marcus felt the blade flash past his face as he jumped out of the way. He was bigger than Dergdian and he made use of his bulk, slamming into him and pushing him away, never taking his eye off the knife. Dergdian came at him again, the other Seals yelling their encouragement. Marcus hooked an arm around his neck and kicked his legs out from under him. Dergdian twisted violently as he fell, rolling away and springing back up onto his feet.
This time it was Marcus who charged. Not quite ready, Dergdian ducked, his head slamming into Marcus’ chest. Marcus flung his arms around Dergdian’s waist and tried to knock him off his feet again. They struggled with each other, momentum driving them into the wall and Marcus felt a white-hot burn in his shoulder. He turned his head and saw the blade piercing his top. With his right arm he pushed against Dergdian’s throat, forcing him back so the knife couldn’t penetrate further. Using the wall as leverage Marcus raised his leg and kicked Dergdian, a wave of nausea rolling over him as pain shot down his arm. He could feel the slick warmth of blood against his skin but he ignored it, biting back the pain, too intent on survival to focus on anything else.
Coughing and clutching at his throat, Dergdian came at him again and they both crashed to the ground. Marcus landed awkwardly, Dergdian on top of him. He fought to keep the knife away, muscles burning as he gripped Dergdian’s arm and twisted it. For a split second Dergdian was caught slightly off-balance and Marcus managed to bring up a fist with his good hand, punching him hard on his chin. Dergdian fell backwards and the knife flew out of his hand. They both scrambled to their feet and Dergdian dived for the discarded knife on the ground. Desperate to stop him, Marcus used his weight advantage again, lunging at him and knocking him backwards. Dergdian stumbled, slamming into the concrete wall, his head snapping back and connecting with the solid surface with a sickening thud.
Everything after that seemed to Marcus to happen in slow motion. He bent and picked up the knife, smeared with his own blood, and turned to the other Seals, expecting another onslaught. Nobody moved. They all simply stood in the underpass waiting for something to happen, staring at Dergdian. For a while he appeared only dazed, staring straight at Marcus until his eyes glazed over and he dropped like a stone onto the ground.
He lay there unmoving, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide in a grim expression of surprise. Marcus heard the sound of running feet and turned to see the Seals disappearing out the end of the underpass. He inched his way over to the body on the ground, half expecting Dergdian to spring up and attack him again, toeing at him with his boot. The blank, dark, unblinking eyes stared into nothingness and Marcus froze. It hadn’t been his fault. He didn’t start the fight, Dergdian’s death had been an accident but he knew he had to get out of there fast or he was going to be discovered with a knife in his hand leaning over a dead body.
His mind scrambling to find a solution to the problem, Marcus pulled his hood over his head and bolted in the opposite direction.
The front door of the gym was locked when he got there and Marcus hammered on it desperately until it opened, staggering inside and leaning against the wall, avoiding Guern’s eyes for as long as he could.
“What the hell happened?” Guern’s voice was hard, insistent. “Marcus! Tell me! What happened?”
“I..I..” he stuttered, fighting to get the words out. He began to pace up and down, breathing heavily, his heart pounding but whether from the run to the gym or the result of the fight, he wasn’t sure. “They jumped me. Seals. One of them’s dead.”
“Fuck! Did you kill him?”
“It was an accident. We were fighting and he fell. He hit his head.”
“Did anybody see?”
Marcus shook his head. “Only the other Seals. They’re going to come after me.”
“You’re hurt.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He finally met Guern’s gaze and saw barely contained anger there, as well as the hard determination that meant Guern had every intention of taking control if he felt he needed to. “I need to get out of this place fast,” he explained, words tumbling out of him. “I know it looks like I’m running away but recently I’ve felt like I’ve really been alive for the first time ever and I don’t want to lose that. It’s my life and I want a say in how it ends and I don’t want it to end like this. I want better than this.”
Guern nodded in agreement. “Ok. Just lie low for a few days and leave it to me.”
“It wasn’t my fault.” Marcus knew it was a pathetic thing to say but he needed Guern to understand. “I swear it wasn’t.”
“I know.” The older man stared hard at him, his mouth set in a grim line but he nodded his head again. “You want me to take a look at your shoulder?”
“No, no, it’s fine.” Marcus wasn’t sure of what else to do or say. “I fucked up.”
“How did they get you?”
“I just wasn’t paying attention. I was thinking about…..I was thinking about all the shit that’s happening and they must have been following me.”
“Just like your fucking dad!” The anger in Guern’s voice made Marcus jump. “Too wrapped up in the bigger picture and taking stupid risks!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you? You wanted out but you couldn’t just do it. No, you had to wait until ‘the right time’. There is no right time, Marcus! In this kind of world, you make your decision and you act on it or someone will take it all away from you!” Finally Guern had run out of steam, the anger in his eyes replaced by concern and sadness. “It took your dad, Marcus. Don’t let it take you too.”
“He was going north of the river, that day he disappeared. Did the Seals kill him?” Anger stabbed at Marcus but he was too tired and in too much pain to maintain it and he was left with an overwhelming sense of defeat. He pulled up a chair and sat down before he fell down.
“Nobody knows for sure but that was always the rumour.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“What good would it have done, eh?” Guern asked. “Not so long ago you’d have gone steaming up there, over the river, swearing revenge and trying to take out all of them single handed. Then you told me that you wanted out and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that, especially not when they’d started coming down here. I want you to have better, Marcus. So did your dad. So did your mum.”
“I asked Esca if he’d come with me.”
“What did he say?”
“No.”
“Then you have to leave without him.”
“I don’t want to leave without him.”
“You have to! You can’t make him do what he doesn’t want to do.”
Marcus stood up and banged a fist against the wall, yelling out his frustration. Guern just watched him patiently.
“Feel better?”
“No.”
“Go home. Be careful.” He handed Marcus his jacket, a bulky dark blue thing. “Put this on, in case someone sees you. You’re still bleeding,” he pointed out and Marcus looked to his left to see the large patch on his shoulder that was sodden with blood. As soon as he saw it, the pain increased again and he winced. “If you won’t let me take a look at it,” Guern continued, “then make sure you do it yourself.”
“Thanks.”
“Take my car, it’s parked round the back where it usually is.”
“No,” Marcus tried to argue. “I’ll be ok.”
“It’s not up for discussion.” Guern took his hand and pressed the keys into it. “I’ll pick it up later tonight from your place.”
“You sure?”
“Go. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Marcus slipped out of the back yard to the alley where Guern always parked and got into the car. He turned on the ignition and wound down the window to get some air, resting his head back and taking a few deep breaths, part of his muddled mind registering that the song playing on the radio was one that he and Esca had sung along to on the day they’d gone to the countryside. He closed his eyes at the memory of that day and everything that had happened with Esca since and when he opened them again to drive off, Liathan was standing a little way ahead of him.
“Roman pig!” he spat. “You killed my brother! You’ll pay for what you did!” He took a couple of steps forward. “You took something from me and I’ll take something from you in payment!”
Marcus didn’t stop to argue. He slammed his foot down and drove the car at Liathan, who stood rooted to the spot and staring straight at him until he jumped out of the way at the last possible moment. With squealing tyres, Marcus pulled out into the traffic on the main road without bothering to look, not even when he heard the screech of brakes as he narrowly missed another car.
Marcus climbed the stairs to his flat, feeling nauseous and dizzy and in a lot of pain but with his senses on high alert. Even so, it was like a punch to the gut when he caught a glimpse of someone on the landing. His heart sped up, his brain fizzing as it tried to decide between fight or flight. He instinctively reached for Dergdian’s bloodied knife in his pocket then realised it was Esca, sitting on the floor outside his door.
“I’ve been waiting ages.” Esca scrambled to his feet. “Where have you been?”
“Shit.” Marcus took a deep breath and tried to force himself to calm down, his skin prickling. He leaned against the wall and rubbed his hands over his face. “I forgot you’d be here.”
“Marcus? What’s wrong?”
Marcus pushed off the wall and opened his front door, pulling Esca inside with him. “I need to talk to you.” He took off Guern’s jacket.
“What the fuck happened?” Esca’s eyes went wide. “You’re bleeding.”
“Can you have a look at it for me?” Marcus asked, not wanting to explain again but knowing that he’d have to eventually. “I don’t think it’s anything too bad.”
Esca followed him into the bathroom without asking any further questions and Marcus dug out some cotton swabs, disinfectant and dressings. He closed the toilet lid and sat down, letting Esca remove his t-shirt and have a closer look at the wound on his shoulder. He gritted his teeth at the sharp sting of the disinfectant.
“Sorry.” Esca finished poking around and stuck a dressing over the cut, still looking serious. “It could do with a few stitches but I’m guessing a trip to A&E is out of the question.” He threw the wad of blood-stained swabs into the bin. “You’ll live.”
“Thanks doctor.”
Marcus leaned back against the cistern as Esca disappeared, returning with a glass of water and some painkillers.
“I fished these out of a drawer in the kitchen.” He held up the half-empty pack of codeine Marcus had swiped from the supplies at the lock-up, courtesy of Placidus’ connections. “You ok?”
“I’m fine.” Marcus reached up and stroked the side of Esca’s face. “It’s just a scratch.”
“He-man.”
“As if you wouldn’t say the same thing if it was you.”
“Yeah but I’m not a Roman. We’re tougher than you.” Esca smiled weakly. “I wouldn’t even feel that.”
Marcus tapped him smartly on the side of his head and knocked back two of the tablets.
“Watch your mouth,” he said.
“You like my mouth.”
Esca leaned in and kissed him, a light gentle kiss but as soon as their lips met Marcus wanted more. All the emotions of the day came flooding out of him and he knew Esca would be able to take everything he had to give him. Ignoring the pain, he stood up and grabbed for Esca. Mouths locked together, they stumbled out of the bathroom, pulling off clothes as they went.
Marcus felt out-of-control desperate but when they reached the bedroom, Esca began to slow things down, soothing him with clever hands and an even cleverer tongue.
“It’s ok,” he whispered against Marcus’ neck. “I’m going to take care of things.” He gently pulled Marcus onto the bed with him, manoeuvring him to lie on his front. “Just let me take care of things.” He ran his fingers over the bumps of Marcus’ spine until he reached the curve of his buttocks and Marcus pushed up into his touch, relieving some of the pressure on the throbbing swollen cock trapped between his body and the bed. Esca pressed his lips to the small of his back then kissed his way upwards, following the line of vertebrae until he reached Marcus’ neck. With one hand gently stroking over his buttocks, he threaded the fingers of his other hand through Marcus’ hair and bit down on his uninjured shoulder. Marcus squirmed and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper but he was past caring. He rolled carefully over onto his back and Esca straddled him, linking their fingers together, pushing down and rubbing against him, bringing waves of spine-tingling pleasure with every roll of his hips. Marcus freed his good arm from Esca’s grip and reached down to wrap it around both their cocks. They looked at each other, eyes fixed. Esca was breathing deeply, his lips parted, a flush starting to creep up his chest. He groaned and closed his eyes, placing both his hands against Marcus’s chest and bracing himself, gradually increasing his pace as he thrust up into Marcus’ hand.
“Look at me,” Marcus whispered. Slowly he reached up with his other hand, the pain in his shoulder fighting with a rapidly building orgasm for control of his senses. He stroked the side of Esca’s face, feeling the rasp of stubble on his chin. “Look at me,” he repeated, louder this time.
Esca’s eyes flew open at the command, his forehead creased with the effort of holding back. He groaned loudly, his eyes closing again as he came all over Marcus’s hand. Marcus tightened his grip, pushing his hips up as the burst of slippery warmth made the friction of skin on skin almost unbearable for him. He forced his eyes to stay open until the very last moment, pinpricks of bright light sparkling at the edge of his vision, Esca’s hands covering his as they continued to rock together and then he was coming, the pulsing of his cock rippling through his whole body from head to toe.
Neither of them spoke as they rode out the last of the shockwaves together and got their breath back. Marcus shifted into a position that was reasonably comfortable for his shoulder, a pillow supporting it while Esca settled in next to him.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked eventually, after Marcus thought he was already asleep.
Marcus pulled him a little closer and took a deep breath. There was no way to put this off any longer. “I was on my way here after I texted you earlier. A few of the Seals were waiting for me, there was a fight, one of them died.” Esca tried to wriggle out of his arms but Marcus held on tight. “I didn’t kill him,” he continued anxiously, “not deliberately. He hit his head when I shoved him against a wall.”
Esca finally got free and sat up, staring down at him in disbelief. “Shit, Marcus!” he yelled. “Where did this happen? Are the police going to come looking for you?”
“I don’t know whether the Seals came back for him before he was found. The police might not even know.”
Marcus struggled to try and sit up but Esca planted a hand firmly in the centre of his chest and shook his head. “You need to rest that shoulder.” He blew out an audible breath. “It’ll be fine,” he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Marcus. “It’s about time somebody took one of them out anyway.”
Marcus didn’t mention that the Romans had already done that and this was the second one to die. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he whispered. “I promise.”
“I know.”
“They’re pissed at me. I went to Guern’s afterwards and when I was leaving their leader was there. The one that died was his brother and he wants revenge.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I…..” He couldn’t bring himself to tell Esca that he was planning to run. Not yet anyway. “I don’t know.”
Esca lay down next to him and Marcus could make out his eyes glistening in the rapidly growing dark. “Get some sleep,” he said softly. “Sort this fucking mess out tomorrow.”
It was still dark when Marcus woke. He reached out without thinking and his shoulder protested loudly enough to make him draw in a sharp breath and groan. He tried again, more carefully this time, and groped for the alarm clock, picking it up and squinting at the luminescent dial. 3.30am. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at Esca, sound asleep beside him, lying face down, one arm resting on the pillow above his head, the other dangling over the edge of the bed.
Settling back to stare up at the ceiling, Marcus thought about what Liathan had said. You’ll pay for what you did. You took something from me and I’ll take something from you in payment. What could he possibly take apart from his life? Marcus didn’t have anything; no family, nothing. He looked over at Esca again and felt cold. They couldn’t mean him. Not Esca.
Marcus remembered the sense of being watched and Dergdian’s taunts about knowing their relationship but he pushed it all out of his mind as Esca rolled over in his sleep and nestled into his side, all bones and muscle but surprisingly soft and warm too. Gingerly, Marcus shifted so he could wrap an arm around Esca and hold him close. It felt good to hang onto something solid and real while the world threatened to spiral out of control around him but it was a long time before he fell asleep again, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that time was running out for him in every way possible.
“Marcus. Wake up.”
Marcus was roused from unsettling dreams by an insistent voice and the sight of Esca watching him. He rubbed at his stinging, gritty eyes before mumbling something incoherent that he hoped Esca understood as a good morning greeting.
“How’s the shoulder?”
A slow, slight movement proved that it was still painful. “Ok. Can hardly feel it.”
“Liar.” Esca shifted a little closer and kissed him. “What are you going to do?”
“Can I just spend all day in bed with you?”
“No.”
“Sure?”
“It’ll be ok.” Esca smiled at him then got out of the bed and rubbed his hands over his head, making his hair stick up in tufts before smoothing it down again. He stretched his arms, yawning loudly and looked almost ethereal, naked and wreathed in the sunlight slanting through the partially closed blinds. Marcus felt all kinds of emotion bubble up from deep inside him but he clamped his mouth shut and forced them back down.
Esca pulled on his clothes, zipping up his grey patterned hoodie. “I have to go,” he said. “It’s later than I thought and I’ve got things to do. I’ll call you later, ok?”
All Marcus could do was nod mutely until the bedroom door closed and he was alone.
“I love you,” he whispered.
The whole way to the museum, Marcus kept both eyes peeled for potential danger but there was nothing. He knew it was coming though; he could feel it, as palpable as the pain in his shoulder.
He wasn’t due at work but he wanted to tell his colleagues he wouldn’t be back and to clear out his locker, not that there was anything worthwhile in it. He sat in the staffroom for a while afterwards, trying to work out his next move. He couldn’t go to the lock-up; whatever he had to do, he had to do it without letting the lads know. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and go and find Esca, tell him he was leaving and try to persuade him to come too. Marcus took one last look around his favourite exhibits but there was no fun in being around things he wanted to look at while scanning every inch of the place for danger and so he left, jumping on a bus to avoid the intermittent bursts of rain.
As the bus trundled on through the city, taking him up towards Brigantes territory, Marcus ran over what he would say to Esca in his head. He’d beg, make declarations of undying love, perform cartwheels, promise anything, whatever it took to change Esca’s mind about leaving with him. The bus slowed down and Marcus looked out the window to check out whoever was getting on but they weren’t stopping at a bus-stop. The traffic was backed up to a standstill and people were hurrying along the pavement, gathering in a crowd a little too far ahead for Marcus to see clearly. He asked the driver to let him off and followed the flow of people, catching sight of the top of an ambulance over the heads of the crowd in front, emergency lights still flashing. He pushed his way through the crowd and saw several police cars then spotted what had caused all the commotion. A body lay face down on the pavement, a thick pool of blood oozing out from under its head. Marcus took a step backwards, feeling as if his knees were about to buckle. His heart was thumping so hard he couldn’t catch his breath, a wave of nausea mixed with panic washing over him. He knew whose body it was. He recognised the coppery brown hair, the slender figure, the too-big grey hoodie with the swirly tribal pattern, the blue tattoo on the body’s exposed right arm where the hoodie had been dislodged during the attack.
The paramedics were crouched by the body but they weren’t doing anything with the bags of equipment they’d brought with them. One of them looked up and shook her head sombrely at the policeman standing beside her. She said something but Marcus didn’t need to hear the words as the crowd were pushed back by the police.
The guy on the ground was dead.
Esca was dead.
Marcus sat on the sofa in his flat, poured a large shot of the whisky he’d just bought into his glass and downed it in one. Then he poured another. Eventually he stopped pouring anything into the glass and just drank from the bottle until it was as empty as he was. Esca’s intense and vibrant presence was gone, leaving behind a huge hole that Marcus couldn’t imagine would ever be filled. He hadn’t realised just how empty his life had been. He rubbed his hands over his face and picked up the glass, letting out a howl of despair as he hurled it across the room to smash against the opposite wall. He raked his fingers through his hair and held his head in his hands, thinking about the things he’d done, all the people he’d hurt and intimidated in the name of the Romans. This was his punishment.
Hours passed and his phone kept buzzing but every time he looked at the caller display it was Drusillus or Placidus. Jesus, couldn’t they just leave him alone? It was never going to be the one name he wanted to see appear, not ever again. He continued to ignore the calls for a while and finally switched the phone off. Unsteady on his feet, he left the flat and climbed the stairs until he reached the top floor. He opened the door that led out onto the roof and walked over to sit on the edge, his legs dangling over the side, high above the street below. He hadn’t been up on the roof for ages but there was a time he’d gone up there a lot. It was a good place to think, so high up that he could look out over this part of the city and pick out buildings he knew, watch people on the ground like ants below him. On a good day he could even see the river winding its way through the mass of concrete towers.
Not today though, the sun long since blocked out by the bank of thick clouds that threatened even more rain. Marcus looked out over the city, still unable to believe that something which had started with such an exhilarating and deeply emotional connection had ended in such a mess so quickly. He’d spent so long struggling with his feelings, trying to understand why he felt the way he did about Esca and getting up the courage to do something about it and now he was adrift, walking on quicksand and sinking fast, losing his grip on whatever it was that had been keeping him safe and sane. What he’d had with Esca was good, better than good and it had been ripped out of his hands in the cruellest way. It didn’t seem real to him that Esca could be gone; that everything they’d hoped for and talked about was over. Marcus felt tears suddenly prick at the back of his eyes but he forced them away to be replaced by a surge of anger. He wanted to take on those bastard Seals single-handed, rip the sons of bitches apart with his bare hands, make them beg for mercy that he had no intention of giving. His head was such a jumble of emotions that he couldn’t think straight; maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just grief. What was he going to do now? Fight? Run? Jump off the roof and be done with it all?
It felt like time was standing still as he sat on the edge of the roof and let his mind try to make some sense of what was happening but when he looked around he noticed that the late afternoon light had turned to dusk. Street-lights, offices and homes were all lit up. At some point it had started raining again. By the time he left the roof and went back to his flat it was almost fully dark but Marcus had made his decision. He wasn’t a coward but he had to get away from here. It was time to go. He was done with this city and everything in it.
He packed a holdall with as much stuff as he could carry, took the pile of cash he’d stuffed under the mattress and pulled the door listlessly behind him, not stopping to make sure it had closed properly. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be coming back here again.
Marcus made no attempt to look out for trouble as he headed to the only person he intended to say goodbye to. He paid no attention to anyone else around him as he walked, shoulders slouched and head down, feeling rain start to trickle down the back of his neck. If the Seals got him now, it didn’t matter.
“Marcus?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.” Guern stood aside to let him in and shut the door, locking it as he always did now to ensure that he knew who was in his gym and when. Nobody ever questioned anything he did. Marcus pushed past him and went into the office, slumping down onto the nearest chair, suddenly exhausted. “I was worried about you,” Guern carried on, shaking his head sadly. “There’s more trouble brewing. Drusillus came by earlier, said the Seals have killed someone else. A Brigantes I think.”
“It was Esca.”
“What?”
“Esca,” he repeated, surprised at the lack of emotion in his voice. “It was Esca.”
“Oh Marcus,” Guern said quietly. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m leaving.” Marcus tossed his phone on the desk. “Won’t need this. If I make it out of here in one piece, I don’t want anyone finding me.”
“You’ll make it.”
“Sure of that, are you?”
“I’ll make sure of it if I have to, yes.” Guern picked up the discarded phone. “Aren’t you going to keep in touch?”
Marcus felt guilt start to crawl over him; guilt for all the people he was leaving behind without saying goodbye. He shook his head and watched Guern scribble his phone number onto a piece of paper which he then handed over.
“Take it,” he insisted, placing it in Marcus’ hand when he hesitated. “Think of it as an insurance policy. In case you ever need anything or maybe to just let me know you’re ok.”
“What if you change your number?”
Guern rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “Always putting obstacles in the way,” he pointed out. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Look out for Drusillus for me. Tell him I’m sorry.”
“He’ll understand.”
“I’m not sure he will.”
“Here.” Guern opened a drawer in his desk and took out a bulky envelope which he handed to Marcus. Marcus frowned at it for a moment before taking it and opening it, cautiously peering inside. He shook his head and fought against the prickle of tears when he saw the contents. There must have been at least a couple of grand in there, probably more.
“I can’t take this,” he said.
“Yes you can.”
“You can’t give me money. You need this. You’ve got a wife and kids.”
“And I provide for them just fine. This was money set aside for a rainy day and that rainy day has arrived. A long time ago, I wanted out and your dad helped me. I wouldn’t have any of this,” Guern spread his arms out, “if it wasn’t for him. He stood up for me when others wanted to lynch me as a coward and a traitor; loaned me some money to start this place up.”
“Where the hell did he get that kind of money from?”
“That doesn’t really matter, not if it ended up being put to good use, which it did. I’m just paying back an old debt.”
Marcus stared at the envelope, pride and common sense fighting each other in his head. It was common sense that won in the end though and he stuffed the envelope in his bag, promising himself that he’d never do anything to make Guern regret the gesture. “I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled, not quite able to meet Guern’s eyes, not when his own still threatened with the prickle of unshed tears.
“You don’t have to say anything, just get yourself a life somewhere.” Guern perched on the edge of his desk next to Marcus and squeezed a firm hand on his shoulder. His bad shoulder. Marcus drew in a deep breath and ignored the flash of pain. “I’m sorry about Esca. Anything you need Marcus. Anything. You know I’ll have your back.”
Marcus looked up at him and nodded, the pain having chased away any lingering threat of the humiliation of tears. They talked for a while until Marcus ran out of things to say and he began to wonder whether he wasn’t just putting off the inevitable. He needed to go soon or he’d have to wait until morning if he wanted to catch a train anywhere but then someone was banging on the front door and he wanted to fling the door open and scream at them to stop. He clenched his fists and tried to block out the noise so he could think straight but he couldn’t. Guern motioned for him to shut the office door and stay out of sight while he went to see who it was and Marcus considered just making a run for it out the back in case whoever wanted in was someone he didn’t want to see. He trusted Guern to know what to do though.
He waited, hearing muffled voices and then Guern was calling for him urgently. Confused, Marcus got up to see what was happening and stopped dead in his tracks when he recognised the soaked and shivering figure standing just inside the door. His first thought was that he was hallucinating. His second thought was that Esca looked pretty robust for a dead man.
Guern poked his head outside, quickly looking up and down the street before closing and locking the door behind him and ushering them both into the office. For a moment Marcus could do nothing but stare at Esca then he grabbed him and hugged him tightly, unsure whether to laugh or cry as he felt Esca’s arms slide around him in response.
“I thought you were dead.” Marcus broke the embrace and held Esca’s head between his hands, his eyes flitting over Esca’s face just to make doubly sure it really was him. “I saw the body and I thought it was you.”
“It was Struan.” Guern reappeared and handed Esca a towel and a dry t-shirt. He took them, wrapping the towel around his shoulders then he sat down, his head in his hands before looking up at Marcus. “When I left this morning, I headed back home and met him on the way. He’d come out looking for me cos I hadn’t come home last night and I forgot to tell him. It had started raining and he was out without a coat so I gave him mine and carried on home while he went off somewhere. They must’ve ambushed him.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I left my phone in my jacket. I went out to meet up with the other Brigantes and that’s when I heard about him and things were going crazy. As soon as I had a chance, I went to your place but you’d gone.” He glanced up at Guern. “This was the only other place I could think of to come where they might know how to find you.”
A thought formed in Marcus’s mind. “They thought it was you,” he said.
“What?”
“The Seals. Struan and you were so alike and they saw that hoodie you always wear and they thought it was you. Liathan promised me he’d take something from me and he meant you. But they got the wrong guy.”
Esca flew up out of the chair. “He’s dead because of me?”
“No. He’s dead because the Seals killed him and when they find out they got the wrong guy they’ll come after you again.” Marcus hoped he was making sense. “We need to leave.”
“No we don’t. It looks like there’s going to be a truce, the Romans and the Brigantes joining forces to get rid of the Seals. We can be on the same side. We can finish these fuckers off for good!”
“I don’t want to be part of this any more. We can get away. We can leave together, now!”
“I can’t leave,” Esca snapped. “I have to stay and get revenge for Struan.”
“Do you think that’s what he’d want?”
“Yes!”
“Really?” Marcus asked. “He’d want you to pass up a chance to get out and build a life somewhere with someone who cares about you just so you can stay here and avenge him? If you do that, you’ll end up in hospital or jail or dead and someone, probably me, will take it on themselves to avenge you and it’ll just go round in a circle like its always done.”
“You just don’t get it. Where are we going to go, eh? What are we going to live on? Sex?” Guern coughed to remind them that he was still there but Esca ignored him. “Those bastards need to pay for what they did! He was just a kid!”
“They’ll pay for it, trust me.” Guern looked at Esca then Marcus. “I still know a few people who can….take care of things when things need to be taken care of.” He placed a hand on Esca’s shoulder and squeezed. “They’ll pay for it, one way or another. You have a chance to get yourselves out of this mess and build a life together but Marcus is right. If you stay, this will just spiral into another round of tit-for-tat revenge until there’s nobody left!”
“Come with me,” Marcus begged. “Please. We’ll leave right now.”
“And go where?” Esca sounded exhausted, all the fight gone out of him.
“It doesn’t matter. Somewhere. Anywhere.” Marcus tried desperately to come up with a plan that made sense. His head was spinning. “The Highlands, Spain. I don’t care as long as you’re there.”
“We’ve got nothing! No money, nothing! I don’t even have a change of clothes.”
“I’ve got some money. We can get a train, go to the airport….”
“I don’t have a passport,” Esca interrupted. “I never bothered. Where was I going to go?”
“I guess Spain is out of the question then. Train it is. We can get jobs wherever we end up. There’s always something.” Marcus could see by the confusion in his eyes that Esca was wavering. “Mechanics are always in demand somewhere.”
“So you’re expecting me to support you now?” The sudden change in direction made Marcus smile, even if it wasn’t said with Esca’s usual feisty defiance.
“I don’t mind staying at home and raising chickens.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
“What if it does? It’s always a risk but it’s one I’m willing to take, with you.” Marcus placed a hand at either side of Esca’s head and tilted his face upwards so they were looking at each other, so close that he could feel Esca’s breath on his face. “Please. I can’t stay here. I want a life.” Hearing his voice start to crack, Marcus had to look away briefly to compose himself. “I thought I’d lost you once. Don’t make me lose you again.”
Esca held his gaze, worry and confusion in his eyes until after what seemed to Marcus like a lifetime they gave way to fresh determination. “Ok,” he said. “Let’s do it. Me and you.”
“Yeah?” Marcus could hardly believe what he was hearing. “You mean that?”
“Yeah.” Esca’s tentative smile broke into a huge grin that lit up his face and Marcus would have kissed him there and then if Guern hadn’t still been watching them.
They stood outside the ticket office at the railway station, both of them staring at the departures board, one bag of possessions between them and all of it belonging to Marcus. At least Guern had managed to dig out a sweater that someone had left at the gym for Esca to wear in addition to the t-shirt he’d given him. As usual, they were a couple of sizes too big for him.
“So,” Esca said as he looked from one possible destination to another. He did his best to keep his voice steady but it betrayed him and he sounded as nervous and excited as Marcus felt himself. “Where to?”
Marcus slung an arm around his shoulder and smiled down at him.
“You decide,” he said. “Just make sure it’s a long way from here.”
Esca looked up and smiled back.
THE END
Author: Lemondilemma
Artist: Ladytiferet
Pairing: Marcus
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: violence, implied major character death, minor character deaths
Word Count: 34,353
Author’s notes: Heartfelt thanks to the awesome Ladytiferet for the artwork and beta services.
Marcus had almost reached the museum for his evening shift when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He smiled at the thought that it might be Esca.
It wasn’t.
“Lock-up, now.”
“What’s…..” But Placidus had already hung up, the tone of his voice leaving Marcus in no doubt that something bad had either happened or was going to happen. He hesitated for a moment, his divided loyalties warring in his head but this time the Romans won out over anything else. Marcus made a quick call to his boss, feigning sudden illness then turned back and headed for the lock-up.
It was buzzing when he got there and he nodded to the lads in greeting as he pushed through the crowd towards Placidus, taking notice of the sombre and angry faces.
“What’s going on?” Marcus had to raise his voice to be heard.
Placidus turned to face him. “Lutorius is dead.”
“What?” The words hit Marcus like someone had jut kicked him in the gut and kicked him hard.
“He’s dead.” Placidus was almost vibrating with anger, a vein throbbing steadily at the side of his forehead. “The Seals got him. They’re picking people off, one by one. They’ve taken five of us out so far today; Lutorius, two more in hospital and the others fucked up enough that they won’t be any use in a fight for a while.”
“Listen..,” Marcus began but Placidus cut him off.
“You better get your act together Marcus cos we need every man on this. I called everyone here so we can stop them in their tracks, for good.”
“This is all getting out of control. People are dying!”
“We’ll do what has to be done.”
“Jesus Placidus, listen to yourself. When’s it all going to end?”
“When those bastards are gone! You know that. Are you going soft on us Marcus?” Placidus lowered his voice and pulled himself up to his full height, getting right in Marcus’ face. “What would you do? Talk to them? Try and reason with them? Take them out to dinner and ask them to please play nicely?”
“Get out of my face.” Marcus warned him, drawing a few interested looks from the lads nearest them.
“Why are you never here any more, eh? What are you up to? Where do you go?”
“I’m not scared of them if that’s what you’re trying to say.”
“Maybe you’re thinking of running away. Maybe you’re a traitor,” Placidus continued, “just like your dad.”
“Don’t you talk about him,” Marcus snapped. “You’re not fit to mention his name.”
“I know all about him. What was he doing going north, eh? Was he off up there to sell his soul to the devil? To sell us out?”
Marcus clenched his fists and willed himself not to wrap his hands around Placidus’s throat and choke the spiteful little shit to death. “You know nothing about my dad!”
“You Aquilas are all the same,” Placidus goaded. “Your dad got himself slaughtered like a pig and now you’d be happy to let the Seals take over without a fight.”
“I don’t want them here any more than you do!”
“Then show it! You should be here with us, not off on your own all the time. What’s so important? Drusillus says you’re chasing some fucking waitress.”
Life, Marcus thought. A future. Esca MacCunoval. That’s what’s important. “I’m not chasing any waitresses,” he said, frustration gnawing at him like a hundred hungry rats.
“So where have you been? Your precious job doesn’t account for all your time.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Nobody would. God, what he felt for Esca..…Even Marcus had difficulty understanding how he’d fallen so far so fast. He felt as if his whole world was starting to spin out of control and Esca was all he had to hold on to.
“Yeah, you’re right! I don’t understand but at least I know where my loyalties lie.”
Placidus pushed past him and Marcus tried to follow but someone grabbed his arm and he spun round to see Drusillus.
“You hear about Lutorius?”
“Yeah.” Marcus shook his head. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“They’re going down for this, I swear it. They’re going to be crying for their mothers by the time I’m done.” Drusillus cricked his neck, the vertebrae clicking loudly. “Rumour has it they’ve offed a couple of Brigantes too.”
“When?”
“No idea.”
Marcus fought hard to keep any concern off his face as he tried to recall exactly when he’d last heard from Esca. Not since the early hours of the morning when he’d left the flat to go home, declining the offer to stay over, and it was early evening now. He made an excuse and slipped outside, pulling his phone out of his pocket and texting Esca.
Are you ok?
He waited for a while, trying to make it look as if he was just getting some air as he paced up and down, willing a response to appear on his phone. Maybe he should just call but he wasn’t sure he could string two words together with the anxiety that was shredding his insides.
I’m good. Where are you?
Meet me at the flat, soon as you can.
Marcus didn’t bother to go back inside and tell anyone he was leaving. He set off towards home, not even bothering to look back when he heard Drusillus shout after him.
“Marcus! Where are you going? We need to stick together! Marcus!”
He walked fast in his haste to get home, a thousand things circulating around in his head. He jogged down a flight of steps to one of the underpasses, dodging his way between the piles of litter strewn around and striding into the piss-stinking concrete tunnel. A few steps in, he looked up and stopped dead, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end but not alerting him to the danger in time. There were two Seals at the end of the underpass in front of him and he didn’t really have to look behind him to know that there were others there, cutting him off completely. He reached into his pocket but it was empty and he remembered taking his knife out the night before, leaving it lying on the kitchen counter.
“You should pay more attention, Roman,” one of the Seals said, and they all laughed. “Daydreaming can be fatal.”
“Show him, Dergdian,” someone shouted amidst the laughter.
Before he had a chance to turn around and see how many were behind him, Marcus found his arms pinned behind his back.
“No, let him go,” the first Seal ordered. “No point in gutting a sitting duck. More fun to let him think he has a chance.”
Marcus quickly scanned the underpass, looking for anything he could use as a weapon but there was nothing he could use and no way out. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to fight. “No way are you going to move in here and take what’s ours,” he said. “This is Roman territory and you won’t beat us.”
“And yet here you are, all alone with nobody to back you up.” The Seal, Dergdian one of the others had called him, pulled a knife out from under his top and sauntered towards Marcus, all confidence and swagger. “We know all about you, Marcus Aquila and your little Brigantes bitch.” The others started laughing again. “Thought you were being so careful, didn’t you. It was so fucking easy.”
“Are you fuckers going to get on with this or were you just planning to bore me to death?”
A shadow briefly swept over Dergdian’s face and the other Seals advanced but he held up a hand to stop them. “Let’s make it fair,” he said, pointing the knife at Marcus. “Just me and you.”
“I’m not scared of you,” Marcus said through gritted teeth, holding his head high in defiance. “Bring it on.”
They circled each other slowly, sizing each other up and waiting for the right moment to make the first move. Dergdian grinned and deftly flipped the knife from one hand to the other. He knew he had the advantage but Marcus wasn’t one to be easily intimidated. He was ready. Dergdian lunged at him, the hand holding the knife extended. He was fast and Marcus felt the blade flash past his face as he jumped out of the way. He was bigger than Dergdian and he made use of his bulk, slamming into him and pushing him away, never taking his eye off the knife. Dergdian came at him again, the other Seals yelling their encouragement. Marcus hooked an arm around his neck and kicked his legs out from under him. Dergdian twisted violently as he fell, rolling away and springing back up onto his feet.
This time it was Marcus who charged. Not quite ready, Dergdian ducked, his head slamming into Marcus’ chest. Marcus flung his arms around Dergdian’s waist and tried to knock him off his feet again. They struggled with each other, momentum driving them into the wall and Marcus felt a white-hot burn in his shoulder. He turned his head and saw the blade piercing his top. With his right arm he pushed against Dergdian’s throat, forcing him back so the knife couldn’t penetrate further. Using the wall as leverage Marcus raised his leg and kicked Dergdian, a wave of nausea rolling over him as pain shot down his arm. He could feel the slick warmth of blood against his skin but he ignored it, biting back the pain, too intent on survival to focus on anything else.
Coughing and clutching at his throat, Dergdian came at him again and they both crashed to the ground. Marcus landed awkwardly, Dergdian on top of him. He fought to keep the knife away, muscles burning as he gripped Dergdian’s arm and twisted it. For a split second Dergdian was caught slightly off-balance and Marcus managed to bring up a fist with his good hand, punching him hard on his chin. Dergdian fell backwards and the knife flew out of his hand. They both scrambled to their feet and Dergdian dived for the discarded knife on the ground. Desperate to stop him, Marcus used his weight advantage again, lunging at him and knocking him backwards. Dergdian stumbled, slamming into the concrete wall, his head snapping back and connecting with the solid surface with a sickening thud.
Everything after that seemed to Marcus to happen in slow motion. He bent and picked up the knife, smeared with his own blood, and turned to the other Seals, expecting another onslaught. Nobody moved. They all simply stood in the underpass waiting for something to happen, staring at Dergdian. For a while he appeared only dazed, staring straight at Marcus until his eyes glazed over and he dropped like a stone onto the ground.
He lay there unmoving, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide in a grim expression of surprise. Marcus heard the sound of running feet and turned to see the Seals disappearing out the end of the underpass. He inched his way over to the body on the ground, half expecting Dergdian to spring up and attack him again, toeing at him with his boot. The blank, dark, unblinking eyes stared into nothingness and Marcus froze. It hadn’t been his fault. He didn’t start the fight, Dergdian’s death had been an accident but he knew he had to get out of there fast or he was going to be discovered with a knife in his hand leaning over a dead body.
His mind scrambling to find a solution to the problem, Marcus pulled his hood over his head and bolted in the opposite direction.
The front door of the gym was locked when he got there and Marcus hammered on it desperately until it opened, staggering inside and leaning against the wall, avoiding Guern’s eyes for as long as he could.
“What the hell happened?” Guern’s voice was hard, insistent. “Marcus! Tell me! What happened?”
“I..I..” he stuttered, fighting to get the words out. He began to pace up and down, breathing heavily, his heart pounding but whether from the run to the gym or the result of the fight, he wasn’t sure. “They jumped me. Seals. One of them’s dead.”
“Fuck! Did you kill him?”
“It was an accident. We were fighting and he fell. He hit his head.”
“Did anybody see?”
Marcus shook his head. “Only the other Seals. They’re going to come after me.”
“You’re hurt.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He finally met Guern’s gaze and saw barely contained anger there, as well as the hard determination that meant Guern had every intention of taking control if he felt he needed to. “I need to get out of this place fast,” he explained, words tumbling out of him. “I know it looks like I’m running away but recently I’ve felt like I’ve really been alive for the first time ever and I don’t want to lose that. It’s my life and I want a say in how it ends and I don’t want it to end like this. I want better than this.”
Guern nodded in agreement. “Ok. Just lie low for a few days and leave it to me.”
“It wasn’t my fault.” Marcus knew it was a pathetic thing to say but he needed Guern to understand. “I swear it wasn’t.”
“I know.” The older man stared hard at him, his mouth set in a grim line but he nodded his head again. “You want me to take a look at your shoulder?”
“No, no, it’s fine.” Marcus wasn’t sure of what else to do or say. “I fucked up.”
“How did they get you?”
“I just wasn’t paying attention. I was thinking about…..I was thinking about all the shit that’s happening and they must have been following me.”
“Just like your fucking dad!” The anger in Guern’s voice made Marcus jump. “Too wrapped up in the bigger picture and taking stupid risks!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you? You wanted out but you couldn’t just do it. No, you had to wait until ‘the right time’. There is no right time, Marcus! In this kind of world, you make your decision and you act on it or someone will take it all away from you!” Finally Guern had run out of steam, the anger in his eyes replaced by concern and sadness. “It took your dad, Marcus. Don’t let it take you too.”
“He was going north of the river, that day he disappeared. Did the Seals kill him?” Anger stabbed at Marcus but he was too tired and in too much pain to maintain it and he was left with an overwhelming sense of defeat. He pulled up a chair and sat down before he fell down.
“Nobody knows for sure but that was always the rumour.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“What good would it have done, eh?” Guern asked. “Not so long ago you’d have gone steaming up there, over the river, swearing revenge and trying to take out all of them single handed. Then you told me that you wanted out and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that, especially not when they’d started coming down here. I want you to have better, Marcus. So did your dad. So did your mum.”
“I asked Esca if he’d come with me.”
“What did he say?”
“No.”
“Then you have to leave without him.”
“I don’t want to leave without him.”
“You have to! You can’t make him do what he doesn’t want to do.”
Marcus stood up and banged a fist against the wall, yelling out his frustration. Guern just watched him patiently.
“Feel better?”
“No.”
“Go home. Be careful.” He handed Marcus his jacket, a bulky dark blue thing. “Put this on, in case someone sees you. You’re still bleeding,” he pointed out and Marcus looked to his left to see the large patch on his shoulder that was sodden with blood. As soon as he saw it, the pain increased again and he winced. “If you won’t let me take a look at it,” Guern continued, “then make sure you do it yourself.”
“Thanks.”
“Take my car, it’s parked round the back where it usually is.”
“No,” Marcus tried to argue. “I’ll be ok.”
“It’s not up for discussion.” Guern took his hand and pressed the keys into it. “I’ll pick it up later tonight from your place.”
“You sure?”
“Go. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Marcus slipped out of the back yard to the alley where Guern always parked and got into the car. He turned on the ignition and wound down the window to get some air, resting his head back and taking a few deep breaths, part of his muddled mind registering that the song playing on the radio was one that he and Esca had sung along to on the day they’d gone to the countryside. He closed his eyes at the memory of that day and everything that had happened with Esca since and when he opened them again to drive off, Liathan was standing a little way ahead of him.
“Roman pig!” he spat. “You killed my brother! You’ll pay for what you did!” He took a couple of steps forward. “You took something from me and I’ll take something from you in payment!”
Marcus didn’t stop to argue. He slammed his foot down and drove the car at Liathan, who stood rooted to the spot and staring straight at him until he jumped out of the way at the last possible moment. With squealing tyres, Marcus pulled out into the traffic on the main road without bothering to look, not even when he heard the screech of brakes as he narrowly missed another car.
Marcus climbed the stairs to his flat, feeling nauseous and dizzy and in a lot of pain but with his senses on high alert. Even so, it was like a punch to the gut when he caught a glimpse of someone on the landing. His heart sped up, his brain fizzing as it tried to decide between fight or flight. He instinctively reached for Dergdian’s bloodied knife in his pocket then realised it was Esca, sitting on the floor outside his door.
“I’ve been waiting ages.” Esca scrambled to his feet. “Where have you been?”
“Shit.” Marcus took a deep breath and tried to force himself to calm down, his skin prickling. He leaned against the wall and rubbed his hands over his face. “I forgot you’d be here.”
“Marcus? What’s wrong?”
Marcus pushed off the wall and opened his front door, pulling Esca inside with him. “I need to talk to you.” He took off Guern’s jacket.
“What the fuck happened?” Esca’s eyes went wide. “You’re bleeding.”
“Can you have a look at it for me?” Marcus asked, not wanting to explain again but knowing that he’d have to eventually. “I don’t think it’s anything too bad.”
Esca followed him into the bathroom without asking any further questions and Marcus dug out some cotton swabs, disinfectant and dressings. He closed the toilet lid and sat down, letting Esca remove his t-shirt and have a closer look at the wound on his shoulder. He gritted his teeth at the sharp sting of the disinfectant.
“Sorry.” Esca finished poking around and stuck a dressing over the cut, still looking serious. “It could do with a few stitches but I’m guessing a trip to A&E is out of the question.” He threw the wad of blood-stained swabs into the bin. “You’ll live.”
“Thanks doctor.”
Marcus leaned back against the cistern as Esca disappeared, returning with a glass of water and some painkillers.
“I fished these out of a drawer in the kitchen.” He held up the half-empty pack of codeine Marcus had swiped from the supplies at the lock-up, courtesy of Placidus’ connections. “You ok?”
“I’m fine.” Marcus reached up and stroked the side of Esca’s face. “It’s just a scratch.”
“He-man.”
“As if you wouldn’t say the same thing if it was you.”
“Yeah but I’m not a Roman. We’re tougher than you.” Esca smiled weakly. “I wouldn’t even feel that.”
Marcus tapped him smartly on the side of his head and knocked back two of the tablets.
“Watch your mouth,” he said.
“You like my mouth.”
Esca leaned in and kissed him, a light gentle kiss but as soon as their lips met Marcus wanted more. All the emotions of the day came flooding out of him and he knew Esca would be able to take everything he had to give him. Ignoring the pain, he stood up and grabbed for Esca. Mouths locked together, they stumbled out of the bathroom, pulling off clothes as they went.
Marcus felt out-of-control desperate but when they reached the bedroom, Esca began to slow things down, soothing him with clever hands and an even cleverer tongue.
“It’s ok,” he whispered against Marcus’ neck. “I’m going to take care of things.” He gently pulled Marcus onto the bed with him, manoeuvring him to lie on his front. “Just let me take care of things.” He ran his fingers over the bumps of Marcus’ spine until he reached the curve of his buttocks and Marcus pushed up into his touch, relieving some of the pressure on the throbbing swollen cock trapped between his body and the bed. Esca pressed his lips to the small of his back then kissed his way upwards, following the line of vertebrae until he reached Marcus’ neck. With one hand gently stroking over his buttocks, he threaded the fingers of his other hand through Marcus’ hair and bit down on his uninjured shoulder. Marcus squirmed and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper but he was past caring. He rolled carefully over onto his back and Esca straddled him, linking their fingers together, pushing down and rubbing against him, bringing waves of spine-tingling pleasure with every roll of his hips. Marcus freed his good arm from Esca’s grip and reached down to wrap it around both their cocks. They looked at each other, eyes fixed. Esca was breathing deeply, his lips parted, a flush starting to creep up his chest. He groaned and closed his eyes, placing both his hands against Marcus’s chest and bracing himself, gradually increasing his pace as he thrust up into Marcus’ hand.
“Look at me,” Marcus whispered. Slowly he reached up with his other hand, the pain in his shoulder fighting with a rapidly building orgasm for control of his senses. He stroked the side of Esca’s face, feeling the rasp of stubble on his chin. “Look at me,” he repeated, louder this time.
Esca’s eyes flew open at the command, his forehead creased with the effort of holding back. He groaned loudly, his eyes closing again as he came all over Marcus’s hand. Marcus tightened his grip, pushing his hips up as the burst of slippery warmth made the friction of skin on skin almost unbearable for him. He forced his eyes to stay open until the very last moment, pinpricks of bright light sparkling at the edge of his vision, Esca’s hands covering his as they continued to rock together and then he was coming, the pulsing of his cock rippling through his whole body from head to toe.
Neither of them spoke as they rode out the last of the shockwaves together and got their breath back. Marcus shifted into a position that was reasonably comfortable for his shoulder, a pillow supporting it while Esca settled in next to him.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked eventually, after Marcus thought he was already asleep.
Marcus pulled him a little closer and took a deep breath. There was no way to put this off any longer. “I was on my way here after I texted you earlier. A few of the Seals were waiting for me, there was a fight, one of them died.” Esca tried to wriggle out of his arms but Marcus held on tight. “I didn’t kill him,” he continued anxiously, “not deliberately. He hit his head when I shoved him against a wall.”
Esca finally got free and sat up, staring down at him in disbelief. “Shit, Marcus!” he yelled. “Where did this happen? Are the police going to come looking for you?”
“I don’t know whether the Seals came back for him before he was found. The police might not even know.”
Marcus struggled to try and sit up but Esca planted a hand firmly in the centre of his chest and shook his head. “You need to rest that shoulder.” He blew out an audible breath. “It’ll be fine,” he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Marcus. “It’s about time somebody took one of them out anyway.”
Marcus didn’t mention that the Romans had already done that and this was the second one to die. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he whispered. “I promise.”
“I know.”
“They’re pissed at me. I went to Guern’s afterwards and when I was leaving their leader was there. The one that died was his brother and he wants revenge.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I…..” He couldn’t bring himself to tell Esca that he was planning to run. Not yet anyway. “I don’t know.”
Esca lay down next to him and Marcus could make out his eyes glistening in the rapidly growing dark. “Get some sleep,” he said softly. “Sort this fucking mess out tomorrow.”
It was still dark when Marcus woke. He reached out without thinking and his shoulder protested loudly enough to make him draw in a sharp breath and groan. He tried again, more carefully this time, and groped for the alarm clock, picking it up and squinting at the luminescent dial. 3.30am. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at Esca, sound asleep beside him, lying face down, one arm resting on the pillow above his head, the other dangling over the edge of the bed.
Settling back to stare up at the ceiling, Marcus thought about what Liathan had said. You’ll pay for what you did. You took something from me and I’ll take something from you in payment. What could he possibly take apart from his life? Marcus didn’t have anything; no family, nothing. He looked over at Esca again and felt cold. They couldn’t mean him. Not Esca.
Marcus remembered the sense of being watched and Dergdian’s taunts about knowing their relationship but he pushed it all out of his mind as Esca rolled over in his sleep and nestled into his side, all bones and muscle but surprisingly soft and warm too. Gingerly, Marcus shifted so he could wrap an arm around Esca and hold him close. It felt good to hang onto something solid and real while the world threatened to spiral out of control around him but it was a long time before he fell asleep again, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that time was running out for him in every way possible.
“Marcus. Wake up.”
Marcus was roused from unsettling dreams by an insistent voice and the sight of Esca watching him. He rubbed at his stinging, gritty eyes before mumbling something incoherent that he hoped Esca understood as a good morning greeting.
“How’s the shoulder?”
A slow, slight movement proved that it was still painful. “Ok. Can hardly feel it.”
“Liar.” Esca shifted a little closer and kissed him. “What are you going to do?”
“Can I just spend all day in bed with you?”
“No.”
“Sure?”
“It’ll be ok.” Esca smiled at him then got out of the bed and rubbed his hands over his head, making his hair stick up in tufts before smoothing it down again. He stretched his arms, yawning loudly and looked almost ethereal, naked and wreathed in the sunlight slanting through the partially closed blinds. Marcus felt all kinds of emotion bubble up from deep inside him but he clamped his mouth shut and forced them back down.
Esca pulled on his clothes, zipping up his grey patterned hoodie. “I have to go,” he said. “It’s later than I thought and I’ve got things to do. I’ll call you later, ok?”
All Marcus could do was nod mutely until the bedroom door closed and he was alone.
“I love you,” he whispered.
The whole way to the museum, Marcus kept both eyes peeled for potential danger but there was nothing. He knew it was coming though; he could feel it, as palpable as the pain in his shoulder.
He wasn’t due at work but he wanted to tell his colleagues he wouldn’t be back and to clear out his locker, not that there was anything worthwhile in it. He sat in the staffroom for a while afterwards, trying to work out his next move. He couldn’t go to the lock-up; whatever he had to do, he had to do it without letting the lads know. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and go and find Esca, tell him he was leaving and try to persuade him to come too. Marcus took one last look around his favourite exhibits but there was no fun in being around things he wanted to look at while scanning every inch of the place for danger and so he left, jumping on a bus to avoid the intermittent bursts of rain.
As the bus trundled on through the city, taking him up towards Brigantes territory, Marcus ran over what he would say to Esca in his head. He’d beg, make declarations of undying love, perform cartwheels, promise anything, whatever it took to change Esca’s mind about leaving with him. The bus slowed down and Marcus looked out the window to check out whoever was getting on but they weren’t stopping at a bus-stop. The traffic was backed up to a standstill and people were hurrying along the pavement, gathering in a crowd a little too far ahead for Marcus to see clearly. He asked the driver to let him off and followed the flow of people, catching sight of the top of an ambulance over the heads of the crowd in front, emergency lights still flashing. He pushed his way through the crowd and saw several police cars then spotted what had caused all the commotion. A body lay face down on the pavement, a thick pool of blood oozing out from under its head. Marcus took a step backwards, feeling as if his knees were about to buckle. His heart was thumping so hard he couldn’t catch his breath, a wave of nausea mixed with panic washing over him. He knew whose body it was. He recognised the coppery brown hair, the slender figure, the too-big grey hoodie with the swirly tribal pattern, the blue tattoo on the body’s exposed right arm where the hoodie had been dislodged during the attack.
The paramedics were crouched by the body but they weren’t doing anything with the bags of equipment they’d brought with them. One of them looked up and shook her head sombrely at the policeman standing beside her. She said something but Marcus didn’t need to hear the words as the crowd were pushed back by the police.
The guy on the ground was dead.
Esca was dead.
Marcus sat on the sofa in his flat, poured a large shot of the whisky he’d just bought into his glass and downed it in one. Then he poured another. Eventually he stopped pouring anything into the glass and just drank from the bottle until it was as empty as he was. Esca’s intense and vibrant presence was gone, leaving behind a huge hole that Marcus couldn’t imagine would ever be filled. He hadn’t realised just how empty his life had been. He rubbed his hands over his face and picked up the glass, letting out a howl of despair as he hurled it across the room to smash against the opposite wall. He raked his fingers through his hair and held his head in his hands, thinking about the things he’d done, all the people he’d hurt and intimidated in the name of the Romans. This was his punishment.
Hours passed and his phone kept buzzing but every time he looked at the caller display it was Drusillus or Placidus. Jesus, couldn’t they just leave him alone? It was never going to be the one name he wanted to see appear, not ever again. He continued to ignore the calls for a while and finally switched the phone off. Unsteady on his feet, he left the flat and climbed the stairs until he reached the top floor. He opened the door that led out onto the roof and walked over to sit on the edge, his legs dangling over the side, high above the street below. He hadn’t been up on the roof for ages but there was a time he’d gone up there a lot. It was a good place to think, so high up that he could look out over this part of the city and pick out buildings he knew, watch people on the ground like ants below him. On a good day he could even see the river winding its way through the mass of concrete towers.
Not today though, the sun long since blocked out by the bank of thick clouds that threatened even more rain. Marcus looked out over the city, still unable to believe that something which had started with such an exhilarating and deeply emotional connection had ended in such a mess so quickly. He’d spent so long struggling with his feelings, trying to understand why he felt the way he did about Esca and getting up the courage to do something about it and now he was adrift, walking on quicksand and sinking fast, losing his grip on whatever it was that had been keeping him safe and sane. What he’d had with Esca was good, better than good and it had been ripped out of his hands in the cruellest way. It didn’t seem real to him that Esca could be gone; that everything they’d hoped for and talked about was over. Marcus felt tears suddenly prick at the back of his eyes but he forced them away to be replaced by a surge of anger. He wanted to take on those bastard Seals single-handed, rip the sons of bitches apart with his bare hands, make them beg for mercy that he had no intention of giving. His head was such a jumble of emotions that he couldn’t think straight; maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just grief. What was he going to do now? Fight? Run? Jump off the roof and be done with it all?
It felt like time was standing still as he sat on the edge of the roof and let his mind try to make some sense of what was happening but when he looked around he noticed that the late afternoon light had turned to dusk. Street-lights, offices and homes were all lit up. At some point it had started raining again. By the time he left the roof and went back to his flat it was almost fully dark but Marcus had made his decision. He wasn’t a coward but he had to get away from here. It was time to go. He was done with this city and everything in it.
He packed a holdall with as much stuff as he could carry, took the pile of cash he’d stuffed under the mattress and pulled the door listlessly behind him, not stopping to make sure it had closed properly. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be coming back here again.
Marcus made no attempt to look out for trouble as he headed to the only person he intended to say goodbye to. He paid no attention to anyone else around him as he walked, shoulders slouched and head down, feeling rain start to trickle down the back of his neck. If the Seals got him now, it didn’t matter.
“Marcus?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.” Guern stood aside to let him in and shut the door, locking it as he always did now to ensure that he knew who was in his gym and when. Nobody ever questioned anything he did. Marcus pushed past him and went into the office, slumping down onto the nearest chair, suddenly exhausted. “I was worried about you,” Guern carried on, shaking his head sadly. “There’s more trouble brewing. Drusillus came by earlier, said the Seals have killed someone else. A Brigantes I think.”
“It was Esca.”
“What?”
“Esca,” he repeated, surprised at the lack of emotion in his voice. “It was Esca.”
“Oh Marcus,” Guern said quietly. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m leaving.” Marcus tossed his phone on the desk. “Won’t need this. If I make it out of here in one piece, I don’t want anyone finding me.”
“You’ll make it.”
“Sure of that, are you?”
“I’ll make sure of it if I have to, yes.” Guern picked up the discarded phone. “Aren’t you going to keep in touch?”
Marcus felt guilt start to crawl over him; guilt for all the people he was leaving behind without saying goodbye. He shook his head and watched Guern scribble his phone number onto a piece of paper which he then handed over.
“Take it,” he insisted, placing it in Marcus’ hand when he hesitated. “Think of it as an insurance policy. In case you ever need anything or maybe to just let me know you’re ok.”
“What if you change your number?”
Guern rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “Always putting obstacles in the way,” he pointed out. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Look out for Drusillus for me. Tell him I’m sorry.”
“He’ll understand.”
“I’m not sure he will.”
“Here.” Guern opened a drawer in his desk and took out a bulky envelope which he handed to Marcus. Marcus frowned at it for a moment before taking it and opening it, cautiously peering inside. He shook his head and fought against the prickle of tears when he saw the contents. There must have been at least a couple of grand in there, probably more.
“I can’t take this,” he said.
“Yes you can.”
“You can’t give me money. You need this. You’ve got a wife and kids.”
“And I provide for them just fine. This was money set aside for a rainy day and that rainy day has arrived. A long time ago, I wanted out and your dad helped me. I wouldn’t have any of this,” Guern spread his arms out, “if it wasn’t for him. He stood up for me when others wanted to lynch me as a coward and a traitor; loaned me some money to start this place up.”
“Where the hell did he get that kind of money from?”
“That doesn’t really matter, not if it ended up being put to good use, which it did. I’m just paying back an old debt.”
Marcus stared at the envelope, pride and common sense fighting each other in his head. It was common sense that won in the end though and he stuffed the envelope in his bag, promising himself that he’d never do anything to make Guern regret the gesture. “I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled, not quite able to meet Guern’s eyes, not when his own still threatened with the prickle of unshed tears.
“You don’t have to say anything, just get yourself a life somewhere.” Guern perched on the edge of his desk next to Marcus and squeezed a firm hand on his shoulder. His bad shoulder. Marcus drew in a deep breath and ignored the flash of pain. “I’m sorry about Esca. Anything you need Marcus. Anything. You know I’ll have your back.”
Marcus looked up at him and nodded, the pain having chased away any lingering threat of the humiliation of tears. They talked for a while until Marcus ran out of things to say and he began to wonder whether he wasn’t just putting off the inevitable. He needed to go soon or he’d have to wait until morning if he wanted to catch a train anywhere but then someone was banging on the front door and he wanted to fling the door open and scream at them to stop. He clenched his fists and tried to block out the noise so he could think straight but he couldn’t. Guern motioned for him to shut the office door and stay out of sight while he went to see who it was and Marcus considered just making a run for it out the back in case whoever wanted in was someone he didn’t want to see. He trusted Guern to know what to do though.
He waited, hearing muffled voices and then Guern was calling for him urgently. Confused, Marcus got up to see what was happening and stopped dead in his tracks when he recognised the soaked and shivering figure standing just inside the door. His first thought was that he was hallucinating. His second thought was that Esca looked pretty robust for a dead man.
Guern poked his head outside, quickly looking up and down the street before closing and locking the door behind him and ushering them both into the office. For a moment Marcus could do nothing but stare at Esca then he grabbed him and hugged him tightly, unsure whether to laugh or cry as he felt Esca’s arms slide around him in response.
“I thought you were dead.” Marcus broke the embrace and held Esca’s head between his hands, his eyes flitting over Esca’s face just to make doubly sure it really was him. “I saw the body and I thought it was you.”
“It was Struan.” Guern reappeared and handed Esca a towel and a dry t-shirt. He took them, wrapping the towel around his shoulders then he sat down, his head in his hands before looking up at Marcus. “When I left this morning, I headed back home and met him on the way. He’d come out looking for me cos I hadn’t come home last night and I forgot to tell him. It had started raining and he was out without a coat so I gave him mine and carried on home while he went off somewhere. They must’ve ambushed him.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I left my phone in my jacket. I went out to meet up with the other Brigantes and that’s when I heard about him and things were going crazy. As soon as I had a chance, I went to your place but you’d gone.” He glanced up at Guern. “This was the only other place I could think of to come where they might know how to find you.”
A thought formed in Marcus’s mind. “They thought it was you,” he said.
“What?”
“The Seals. Struan and you were so alike and they saw that hoodie you always wear and they thought it was you. Liathan promised me he’d take something from me and he meant you. But they got the wrong guy.”
Esca flew up out of the chair. “He’s dead because of me?”
“No. He’s dead because the Seals killed him and when they find out they got the wrong guy they’ll come after you again.” Marcus hoped he was making sense. “We need to leave.”
“No we don’t. It looks like there’s going to be a truce, the Romans and the Brigantes joining forces to get rid of the Seals. We can be on the same side. We can finish these fuckers off for good!”
“I don’t want to be part of this any more. We can get away. We can leave together, now!”
“I can’t leave,” Esca snapped. “I have to stay and get revenge for Struan.”
“Do you think that’s what he’d want?”
“Yes!”
“Really?” Marcus asked. “He’d want you to pass up a chance to get out and build a life somewhere with someone who cares about you just so you can stay here and avenge him? If you do that, you’ll end up in hospital or jail or dead and someone, probably me, will take it on themselves to avenge you and it’ll just go round in a circle like its always done.”
“You just don’t get it. Where are we going to go, eh? What are we going to live on? Sex?” Guern coughed to remind them that he was still there but Esca ignored him. “Those bastards need to pay for what they did! He was just a kid!”
“They’ll pay for it, trust me.” Guern looked at Esca then Marcus. “I still know a few people who can….take care of things when things need to be taken care of.” He placed a hand on Esca’s shoulder and squeezed. “They’ll pay for it, one way or another. You have a chance to get yourselves out of this mess and build a life together but Marcus is right. If you stay, this will just spiral into another round of tit-for-tat revenge until there’s nobody left!”
“Come with me,” Marcus begged. “Please. We’ll leave right now.”
“And go where?” Esca sounded exhausted, all the fight gone out of him.
“It doesn’t matter. Somewhere. Anywhere.” Marcus tried desperately to come up with a plan that made sense. His head was spinning. “The Highlands, Spain. I don’t care as long as you’re there.”
“We’ve got nothing! No money, nothing! I don’t even have a change of clothes.”
“I’ve got some money. We can get a train, go to the airport….”
“I don’t have a passport,” Esca interrupted. “I never bothered. Where was I going to go?”
“I guess Spain is out of the question then. Train it is. We can get jobs wherever we end up. There’s always something.” Marcus could see by the confusion in his eyes that Esca was wavering. “Mechanics are always in demand somewhere.”
“So you’re expecting me to support you now?” The sudden change in direction made Marcus smile, even if it wasn’t said with Esca’s usual feisty defiance.
“I don’t mind staying at home and raising chickens.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
“What if it does? It’s always a risk but it’s one I’m willing to take, with you.” Marcus placed a hand at either side of Esca’s head and tilted his face upwards so they were looking at each other, so close that he could feel Esca’s breath on his face. “Please. I can’t stay here. I want a life.” Hearing his voice start to crack, Marcus had to look away briefly to compose himself. “I thought I’d lost you once. Don’t make me lose you again.”
Esca held his gaze, worry and confusion in his eyes until after what seemed to Marcus like a lifetime they gave way to fresh determination. “Ok,” he said. “Let’s do it. Me and you.”
“Yeah?” Marcus could hardly believe what he was hearing. “You mean that?”
“Yeah.” Esca’s tentative smile broke into a huge grin that lit up his face and Marcus would have kissed him there and then if Guern hadn’t still been watching them.
They stood outside the ticket office at the railway station, both of them staring at the departures board, one bag of possessions between them and all of it belonging to Marcus. At least Guern had managed to dig out a sweater that someone had left at the gym for Esca to wear in addition to the t-shirt he’d given him. As usual, they were a couple of sizes too big for him.
“So,” Esca said as he looked from one possible destination to another. He did his best to keep his voice steady but it betrayed him and he sounded as nervous and excited as Marcus felt himself. “Where to?”
Marcus slung an arm around his shoulder and smiled down at him.
“You decide,” he said. “Just make sure it’s a long way from here.”
Esca looked up and smiled back.
THE END