Fandom: The Eagle- AU.
Title: Young Blood: It's a Long Road to Recovery
Rated M: For potty mouths, implied sexual goings-on, nasty habits, etc.
Warnings: The usual stuff.
Disclaimer: Marcus and Esca and Cub and Uncle belong to Rosemary Sutcliffe. The abuse of these belong to me.
Notes:Occurs a couple years after the events of YB, perhaps a year after Cub moves in with Marcus and Esca. There will be naughty bits in this, posted as always to my chikatai eljay. :)
Catalyst
Cub is sitting on the stoop when Marcus and Uncle Max return from their walk.
Legs drawn up, chin propped on knees. Completely dejected and hiding in the shadow cast by a large potted plant. His posture is at odds with the bright summer sunshine flooding the front of the building. Cub looks up with those dark eyes, a hint of sullen indignation still evident. Guilty sulking. Looking three years old instead of twenty-one.
Uncle Max smiles, amused. He stands at the bottom of the steps, hands in pockets, perfectly happy to observe the situation.
Marcus sighs, less amused. He squats next to the younger man, glad that the warmer weather has been kind to his leg injury. A sympathetic smile curves his mouth. " Forget your key, mate?" Esca hadn't said anything about going out, but it was always a possibility.
Cub shakes his silver head. Turns his gaze away, staring at the flickering shadows on the wall. His callused fingertips pick at the frayed edges of his jeans.
Marcus looks up at a loud noise from inside. Like something being knocked to the floor. It's followed by a muffled cursing. Marcus recognizes the Gaelic obscenities and notices Cub flinch at his name included among them.
Ah. A fight. Marcus closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose. His lover and protegee often disagree, and it is not unusual to find Cub moping on the front stoop and Esca smoking on the back stoop.
But this seems different and Marcus can only imagine it's cause. He casts an imploring glance at his uncle.
Uncle Max catches it and rolls his eyes. He quietly clears his throat. " Cub lad, I just got in this wonderful first person account on sheep farming in the Highlands... "
Cub takes the hint and the offer of comfort. Marcus knows he knows that Uncle Max always has plenty of tea and biscuits handy. It's enough to get the young man up and moving, dragging his feet as he follows Uncle Max. Up the steps, into Uncle's flat.
Marcus waits until he hears the door shut behind them before standing. He stretches, not even grimacing at the slight pull in his thigh muscles. Debates going inside or hiding at his Uncle's flat with Cub until this blows over. In their relationship, Esca is the steadfast one. The calm one. The sane one, most would say. Hard to rile, quick to cool.
So if Esca is in a bad enough mood to still be trashing the flat, then a strategic distance would be wise.
Another loud thud. And another. Definitely the sound of fists hitting drywall.
Without another thought, Marcus opens the door and steps inside.
A glimpse of a dark shirt in the kitchen doorway. Shuffling noises. Another thud.
Marcus approaches cautiously. " Esca? It's just me." He drops his keys on the entry table, slowly makes his way to the back of the flat. Marcus notices two dents and one clean hole in the kitchen wall as he shuffles past the corner. His uncle is going to have a fit. Esca stands in front of the sink, staring out the window, back facing Marcus. His ears and back of his neck are flaming red. There's something in his tightly clenched fist, but Marcus can't tell what. " Any particular reason you're tearing the place up?"
He dreads this, doesn't want to know what happened to cause such a scene. Esca appears truly upset, not merely aggravated by one of Cub's immature faux pas.
Marcus shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and sidles next to Esca, elbow barely brushing his arm. Stares out the same window. Just waiting for Esca to answer him. Or hit him. Whatever.
A few minutes pass. A few aborted attempts from Esca. Marcus waits patiently and finally his lover manages a quiet, tight, " Cub took one of my fags."
Marcus makes sure there is no outward change in his expression. Possibly a flutter of his eye brow, but nothing too overt. Inside, he's both surprised and concerned. At both Cub's action and Esca's strong reaction. It's not like Esca to give a fig about Cub bumming things.
He glances down and finally recognizes the crumpled pack in Esca's fist. Benson & Hedges Silver. A theory begins to grow. " Well... he's old enough, legally. And I can't believe he hasn't tried smoking before now, considering his lifestyle." As far as Marcus is aware, Cub has never indulged in anything other than alcohol, despite spending most of his nights in smoky pubs and discos and student parties. And it made more sense to bum a cig from Esca's pack than to buy a whole pack just to try one. " We should've expected it." A quick look at Esca's face confirms the man's distress. His grey eyes are watery, cheeks flushed, jaw working furiously.
Which means that Esca is upset about something more complicated. " Especially when he sees me going through a pack a day." Direct self-blame.
Esca is a very strong person, stronger than anyone Marcus has ever known. Marcus has seen Esca calmly face down nearly every disaster fate has tossed his way. Unshaken. Unflappable. Unperturbed.
There's only one thing that has consistently gotten under Esca's skin and Marcus has never made any mention of it. Of Esca's private battle with cigarettes. He knows Esca has tried to quit before, watched the fidgits and irritation and the final sneaking of fags in the middle of the night. Never said a word, giving Esca time and space to break the habit on his own. Nothing said when the attempts failed and Marcus' heart ached to see his lover's frustration.
But now...
" Esca, I don't think that's the reason Cub tried it. You know how he is." Marcus tries to ease his lover's guilt. Not dishonestly, he believes what he says. " Poor impulse control. Probably saw the pack and just got it into his head to try one. Probably wouldn't smoke another after the first."
" Or he could have gotten hooked." Esca grits it out between clenched teeth. Grey eyes flick to the side, a slight tilt of his face toward Marcus. Despair clearly written in his expression. " Just like me." The cellophane pack crinkles in his hand. Esca looks back out the window.
Marcus frowns. He's still trying to grasp just why Esca is so bent out of shape. But maybe it doesn't really matter. Or doesn't matter as much as what, Marcus feels, is a turning point for Esca. He is pretty sure that this is very close to hitting rock bottom for Esca.
" I'm quitting."
Marcus has never heard him say that out loud before, despite witnessing his subtle attempts to quit. He nods, shifting from foot to foot. Arm brushing Esca's. " I'll help, you know. Any way I can."
He listens to Esca taking a deep breath. Hears him shift. Hears the light thunk and slide of the cigarette pack being tossed into the bin. Esca never takes his eyes from the window.
Marcus slips his arm across Esca's shoulders. He leans in and presses a kiss to his temple, noses in the hair above his ear. " You can do this." Esca nods, but remains silent. Marcus pulls him in tighter. Makes a decision, for better or worse. " We should probably rescue Uncle Max pretty soon. Or Cub will eat him out of house and home." That gains him a laugh and Marcus smiles along with his lover.
And silently vows to fish the cigs out of the bin and put them down the disposal.
tbc