--------------
Title:Magna Graecia.
Author:Rodlox.
Summary:Marco knows the reason why he should marry Diana, and he knows the reason why he shouldn't marry Diana.
Rating:T.
POV:Marco.
Author's note:Eamon Pacella has guest starred in another 4400 fanfic of mine: in the third story of the 'Chat with Ducks' trilogy (http: s 2965545 1 ...in which each space is a / ) This uses slightly different backstory, having no Jordan&Diana history, but Eamon is the same.
Eamon's disability is the opposite from that of Isadore Bell's (who appears in a 4400 fanfic here: http: community. dianamarco 8418.html#cutid1)
-------------
I never thought I'd be so thankful for bad news as I was two hours ago, shaking my head as I lock my door behind me. With a nod to Eamon as I walk past where he's asleep on the couch, I plop down on a kitchen stool. I'll shut off the tv in a bit...right now, I just need to sit and think. So with the room filled with my cousin's snores and the National Geographic Channel going on about people who push the limits of endurance and mind-over-matter, I replay the evening in my head.
Diana Skouris kissed me. As good as the kiss itself had been, all the tingling I'd felt when her lips met mine, the addictive rush of being in close contact with her... And the relief I felt when Maia interupted us. I look around my kitchen. Apart from my living room, all the rooms in my apartment could be called "walk-in closets," which is why Eamon gets the couch: in his condition, he needs plenty of space to move around in, lest he hurt himself. And lest Diana be hurt, I'll stick with her...but I need to tell her that we can't work, not in the way she might like us to, not in the way I'd very much like to. I meant it when I said I'd be right beside her, a pillar of support, same as I've been these last two years. Sighing, She deserves better than me.
There's an interruption right now, this time in Eamon's snoring, and he asks me, "How was it?" undoubtedly at least half asleep even now.
But that's not a reason not to answer -- if there's one thing Eamon's good at, its holding conversations and resting his eyes at the same time. "It was good," I say. And it was. Though as enjoyable as the dinner was, I preferred before she kissed me.
"Congratulations. Did you ask her?"
"No, I didn't propose." I'm a Pacella, and I couldn't bring myself to do my duty. And with this apartment, who'd want me? Not Diana, not if she knew...she might say she doesn't care about that sort of thing, but I don't want to pen her in with all my handicaps. He knew his limits, physical, intellectual, and financial...like this apartment, the best he could afford. Diana deserves more than this little cubbyhole. And she doesn't deserve to have to support me...which is what would happen if we married...and I couldn't lead her down a gardenpath of dates, falsely letting her think it'll end in marriage. She'd hate me if I did that, and I couldn't stand having her hate me.
Interupting, "Magna Graecia, Marco," and goes back to sleep, abandoning me to the full weight of what he'd said.
Magna Graecia. The place of Classical Greek settlement in Italy. The Pacella family homeland. Grandpa always said we were in Italy before Julius crossed the Rubicon. Over the years, we've been Samaritans and Passagians, engineers and philosophers. And the family always survived. We survived Diocletan and Pyhrus, Napoleon and Atilla, Il Papa and Il Duce. And I know what Eamon means. He means 'you've got a great girl, now marry her.'
I want to, I do. But.
--------------
The End.