In the blistering summer heat if Sandy Shores groans of agony ring out from a small trailer near the edge of town. A simple tan Karin Rebel truck sits just outside the garage of the quaint property. Franklin stands outside on the small porch; he decided the heat was much better than watching a bullet be removed from Trevor's shoulder. Keas stands leaning against the kitchen counter with the first aid kit sitting next to him. He's no good with fixing injuries since he's more used to creating them, but he's been giving Marceline anything she asks for from the small box.
"Fucking hell," Trevor yells out. Marcy holds a towel below the wound to catch the blood-tainted alcohol running from it.
"Oh calm down, you big wuss. The hard part's over," she chastises him. "Gauze and tape, please." She holds her hand out to Keas who happily gives her the items. As she patches up Trevor's shoulder she grumbles. "My goodness. I've never had to work on someone who complains so damn much," she says lowly. Trevor shoots her a glare.
"Well if you were a bit more gentle like a real woman than it wouldn't be a fucking problem!" he barks back. Marceline stops what she's doing and slowly lifts her head to look at him, her green eyes narrowed dangerously. Trevor quickly raises his hands in defense. "Sorry; pain talking," he says hurriedly. She lowers her gaze and continues to patch him up in silence. Trevor sighs. He really doesn't need her to death grip his junk like she had earlier when he called her a bitch. He's learned that name-calling right now is limited to Franklin, and it's driving his impulsive nature insane.
Marcy works slower and gentler now that Trevor complained about it, which he notices. She's so used to working solely on Keas' wounds for so long that she forgot others don't have such a high pain tolerance. She puts on the last bit of tape and sits back. "There. That should do it," she says with a pleased smile on her lips. "If you need help changing the patch or notice any worse discoloration that isn't already there then give me a call." Trevor moves his shoulder around a bit to stretch it out. "Most of the bleeding has stopped so it should be fine."
"Are you done?" Franklin asks from the other side of the screen door. Keas moves to the door and nods before opening it for him to come inside. Frank walks in while wiping sweat from his brow. "Thank god. It's hot as fuck outside," he complains. Marcy lifts her hands with a shrug.
"Well, dry sandy places usually end up being hot," she retorts. Franklin rolls his eyes while Keas and Trevor chuckle.
"She's got you there," Keas speaks up. He feels relief when Marcy grins and Franklin cracks a smile at him. He's never sure when it's appropriate for him to speak up, so most times he stays silent and lets Marcy do the talking. Having someone as understanding as Franklin around is helping his confidence in speaking around others. While Marcy was working on Trevor's shoulder, Keas and Franklin spent most of the time talking at the door.
Marcy grabs a bandage wrap and hands it to Trevor. "Wrap this around the patch when you're out and about to help keep it on," she explains when he gives her an odd look.
"That would be all the time," Franklin retorts. "He's always gotta be doing something." Trevor wants to deny it, but he can't bring himself to since he knows it's true. He's almost never home now except to rest, heal up, or change clothes.
Marcy walks up to Keas, places a hand lightly on his bicep, and turns back to Trevor. "Well, as much fun as this all was, we really should get-"
"Trevor!" a male voice calls out from outside, cutting her off. A man donning a tan hat and large glasses comes up to the door. "Trevor, you're here!" he shouts excitedly, relief evident on his face. "I have news." Trevor's expression instantly turns to one of irritation.
"What is it now, Ron?" he asks roughly, his voice scratching a bit. Marcy raises an eyebrow at the exchange but stays silent, choosing to stay out of this for the moment. Ron nervously pushes his glasses further onto his nose.
"I've been listening to the radio like you said and I heard news of a group coming here to wipe out Trevor Phillips Enterprises," he explains. Trevor stands quickly.
"Who the fuck thinks they can wipe me out, huh?" he shouts, his face red with anger. Marcy pushes Trevor back onto the couch before sitting next to him. Before he has a chance to snap at her, she takes the bandage wrap from his hand and begins wrapping his shoulder in silence. Ron, startled by how calm Trevor appears after being literally pushed around, stays quiet longer than he should have. "Ron!" Trevor snaps out, the redness of his face coming back and travelling down his neck. Ron jumps from his stupor.
"R-right," he stutters. "They're knows as the 'Deadly Duo,' Alice and Kal Cross. They were last seen headed this way about five minutes ago from Paleto Bay. Apparently they have 4 vans accompanying them," Ron explains. Keas and Marcy share a knowing look that Franklin happens to catch.
"What's with the look, you two?" he asks, catching Trevor and Ron's attention as well. "Do you know these two?" Marcy and Keas share another silent look until Keas nods. Marcy sighs.
"Possibly, although that's not their real names," she replies. Franklin raises a brow at her.
"Then who are they?" Ron asks. Marcy purses her lips.
"I can't know for sure until I see them," she answers carefully. She finishes with the bandage and sits up straight. "Ron, what kind of vehicle are they in?" she asks. Nervously he fiddles with the radio strapped around his neck.
"W-well, uh… Let's see… Um…" he stammers messily. Trevor's face starts turning red again. Just as he opens his mouth to snap at Ron, Marcy slaps a hand on his injured shoulder, making him yell out in pain. He turns to yell at her, his eyes narrowed dangerously, but Ron speaks up before he can. "That's right! It was a dark blue and tan Dundreary Regina!" he speaks loudly. Franklin furrows his eyebrows while Marcy scrunches up her face in disgust.
"You mean that 4-person white family vacation station wagon from the 80's? Why the hell would they take that?" Franklin asks. "Shit. I don't know who this 'Deadly Duo' is but with a title like that they sure as hell wouldn't drive that." Everyone but Ron nods in agreement. With a clap of her hands Marcy stands with a grin.
"So what are we waiting for? I know you guys aren't the types to sit around waiting for them to come to us. Let's teach these guys not to mess with Trevor Phillips and his friends shall we?" she asks cheerfully. Trevor stands as well, a sick grin on his face.
"Hell yeah! Let's get going," he declares. He pushes his way past everyone and goes out the door. Franklin scoffs but smiles.
"See Keas? He's always gotta do something," Frank says, lightly tapping Keas' shoulder as he heads out of the trailer. Keas grins after him and follows him out. Ron holds the door open for Marcy.
"Why thank you, Ron," she says with a kind smile. "Would you mind staying close by and keeping us updated? It would be nice to know if they get here before we meet up with them," she requests. Trevor climbs into the single cab of the truck, and then Franklin and Keas sit in the bed leaving the passenger seat for Marcy. Ron readjusts his glasses with shaking hands as they make their way into the yard.
"Y-yeah, I can do that. I'll text Trevor if I hear anything," he answers. Marcy's smile softens and Ron's features relax a bit as a result.
"Thank you again." Trevor smacks the side of the truck loudly.
"Hurry the fuck up!" he shouts. Marcy shoots him a glare.
"Shut up, Trevor! I'm coming!" she yells back. She turns back to Ron with another smile. "May we meet again." She hurries to the truck and climbs in, placing her purse between Trevor and herself. Trevor starts the engine and quickly takes off down the road. He glances over to her, his eyes trailing down to watch how her chest moves in her bikini top with each bump they go over. He discreetly wets his lips, focusing back onto the path ahead of him.
"About fucking time," he mutters out. Marcy scoffs but other than that she says nothing. The deafening silence bothers Trevor, and it is very hard to accomplish that. The whole ride back to his trailer she was yammering away in the bed with Keas, but up here with him is completely different. He's not sure exactly what it means, but he'll be sure to keep an eye on her in the meantime. "So, who is this 'Deadly Duo,' anyway?" he asks; but Marcy stays silent, lost in her own thoughts.
When I get my hands on those two, they're going to wish they had never met me, she grumbles in her mind. Despite the happy front put on to help Ron relax she is absolutely pissed. She feels someone touch her stomach and she reacts quickly, grabbing the person's hand and twisting it painfully.
"Chill the fuck out; it's just me," Trevor growls out at her. She quickly lets him go and rubs her neck in embarrassment.
"Sorry Trevor. You just caught me off guard," she responds sheepishly. He scoffs and eyes her a bit before looking forward.
"Your bruise doesn't look too good there," he speaks up after a while. She looks down, spotting the purple and brown discolored skin just below her chest. She places a hand lightly over it and presses in at a couple places to feel for anything that could be broken. After finding no sharp pains she moves her arm across the bruise and keeps it there, almost like she was hiding it from him.
"It's not too bad. Most of the pain has faded so I honestly forgot it was there. I was so focused on getting you better that I forgot to check on myself," she admits. Trevor's gaze softens just a tad to where Marcy doesn't take notice. "I'll be sure to put some ointment on it when I get back to my bloody apartment." Trevor gives her and inquisitive look at her wording.
"Bloody?" he repeats. Marcy cracks a smile.
"Yeah. We got this apartment near the beach for really cheap. It's an upstairs apartment with this little parking spot beneath it. But when we got there yesterday it was covered in blood. It was like one or more people were murdered and after the police took what they needed from the crime scene they just left the mess. What kinds of cops do that?" Marcy shakes her head. "What happened in there?" she ponders aloud. Trevor swallows hard and furrows his brows, his eyes focused on the road.
"The lady was a cunt and her stupid boyfriend was a little bitch," he grumbles out. Marcy turns to him slowly, wide eyed.
"Wait a second, did you kill them?" she asks loudly in astonishment. She didn't think she would ever know for sure what happened in the apartment.
"Hey, the cunt held a gun at me. It was clearly self-defense," he responds indignantly. Marcy raises her hands.
"I'm not here to judge. I just find it funny that I actually got to meet the person who did it without even meaning to," she replies with a smile. "So what happened? Did you sleep with the girlfriend and the guy walked in on you or something?" she asks, genuinely curious. Trevor chuckles at her inquiry.
"No, I was working with the dude and staying there while the girlfriend was away. She wanted me to leave and I may or may not have suggested having a three-way to patch things up and get rid of any misunderstanding. She pulled a gun on me and I just kind of snapped," he explains. He pauses for a moment and wonders why he's even telling her this, but decides to shrug it off. "After that I forcefully took over the strip club business." Marcy grins at the crazy man.
"So there really is a strip joint here? I'll have to check it out with Keas sometime," she comments. She turns her attention to the front windshield and sees an incoming station wagon, its luggage carrier full on top of the vehicle. "Oh hey, isn't that a Dundreary Regina coming up? It looks like it's the correct color scheme. I wonder if that's the one?" she questions, pointing ahead at the car. Trevor shoots a smirk her way.
"Well, let's find out," he responds. He pushes on the gas and swerves into the left lane, going at the car head-on. Marcy hurriedly warns the two in the bed what will happen so they don't go flying unexpectedly.
"Well shit," Franklin grumbles, glaring at the back of Trevor's head. He holds on to whatever he can as tightly as possible. Keas, however, stands in a crouch with his tomahawk in his right hand, his eyes narrowed dangerously. The driver of the Regina tries to swerve away onto the dirt, but Trevor follows their movement at the last minute and the hoods of the vehicles meet.
Keas leaps high and goes over the cab of the truck with a loud roar. He clears the hoods and comes down on the dark blue and tan car, his weapon embedding into the roof and coming within inches of the driver's skull. The driver stares shakily at the blade, not daring to move their head. The passenger pulls out a gun and goes to shoot at Keas through the windshield, but he saw the gleam of the gun in time to jump out of the way while pulling his weapon free. Marcy and the passenger get out of the vehicles at the same time. Marceline's eyes narrow into a glare at the Asian man after recognizing him, although he can't seem to place where he's seen her before.
A black van pulls up next to the Regina and three people step out. Two more vans arrive shortly after and park behind the dual toned car, three people coming out of the van to Marcy's right and four stepping out from the one behind the Regina. Keas stands on the trunk of the car with his sharp weapon in his right hand and his pistol in his left. He eyes the men to find their weaknesses and vulnerable spots. He looks back at Marcy briefly, just long enough to see her grin evilly.
"Ok Keas," she speaks loud, "time for a bath." Franklin gives her a strange look. What the hell is that supposed to mean? That's when he notices Keas' flexed position and sees how his hands are shaking,
Keas moves quickly, his eyes now shaking with bloodlust. He throws the tomahawk at the closest man to his right, slicing clean into his chest. He leaps off the car and kicks the man down then lands on top of him. He shoots him in the head while pulling his weapon out of the body. A blond goon shoots but misses when Keas ducks behind the front of the van furthest to the right. The brunette driver of the van shoots next but has horrible aim and the bullet misses Keas completely. Keas shoots her in the leg so she slumps to the ground. He crouches along the van to her to avoid the other foes' bullets before bashing in her skull with the diamond shaped point on the back of the tomahawk. Blood splatters onto his face but it doesn't deter him from continuing his assault.
The 5'5" Asian man takes aim at the redhead, but a bullet grazing his ear stops him from taking the shot. He looks back to the tan truck to find the three others all pointing their guns at him. Marcy smirks, a bit of smoke coming from the barrel of her heavy pistol. "Your fight is with us, Ikeda," she says calmly. He smirks, leveling his submachine gun at her.
"I don't know who you are bitch, but I assure you that you won't win," he replies cockily. His ego deflates when Trevor shoots him in the thigh and Franklin hits his side.
"Don't fucking call her a bitch," Trevor tells him angrily. He ducks behind the door when Ikeda opens fire at him. Another van arrives, five more people stepping out and they open fire on the three friends. Marcy takes out a man and a woman, one shot in the chest a few times and the other once in the head. Trevor focuses his shots at Ikeda, but he stays hidden behind the car to avoid getting more injuries. Franklin uses a carbine rifle against the goons, taking out two more of his own. That's when Marceline notices the driver of the Regina try to sneak out of their seat. As soon as she has a clear shot of the person's ankle she takes the shot. The driver lets out a high pitched scream in pain, collapses to the ground, and lightly cradles the destroyed joint while sobbing.
Marcy takes a moment to take in their appearance. It's a short woman with skinny limbs and physique. Her blonde hair is extremely long, coming down to her elbows; her brown eyes are closed in pain while her pale pink lips are in a scowl. Marcy feels her blood boiling. Subconsciously she makes her way to the woman. Ikeda sees her going after her and comes out to hopefully kill her, but Trevor's bullet hits his left hand so he can no longer use it to balance the gun. Ikeda growls while Trevor smirks cockily.
Keas takes out his seventh person and shortly after shoots his eighth in the head. He moves to the next when he sees them take aim at Marcy. The whites of his eyes grow red as his anger builds rapidly. He tackles the blond just as he pulls the trigger. The bullet goes into his gut and embeds itself into his muscles, but it doesn't hinder his movements one bit. He wails on the blond's face with his bare hands, blood splattering everywhere. Even after his face is no longer recognizable and the body stops moving Keas continues his assault until Franklin tells him to move. Taking his advice Keas rolls off the corpse in time to dodge flying bullets.
Marcy makes it to the familiar blonde on the ground without any injuries. She grabs a fistful of her soft hair and yanks her up. Once she has the woman balancing unsteadily on her good foot she narrows her eyes at her, criticizing the woman. Marcy stands a good six inches taller than the 5'4" girl, and uses the height difference to her advantage. She turns the woman around and pins her arms down by wrapping her left arm around them and lifting her up below her chest. She takes out her pocketknife and holds it to the woman's throat. Ikeda takes notice and yells out for everyone to cease fire, and they all oblige.
"What do you want with us? Don't you know who we are?" Ikeda asks. He has his hands help up to show he won't attack at the moment.
"You mean this 'Deadly Duo' I keep hearing about?" Marcy asks. She chuckles lightly.
"That's Alice Cross you have there. The leader of Phoenix Inc., one of the most successful and widespread meth dealerships in the USA, and if you let her go I'm sure she will have your death be as painless as possible," he says confidently. Silence falls among the people, no one lowering their weapons. Marcy starts off chuckling quietly, but slowly she gets louder and louder until she can no longer contain it. The goons give each other nervous glances. She stops laughing abruptly and presses the knife further into the woman's neck, drawing a bit of blood. She whimpers like the coward she is.
"So I'm supposed to believe you're Kal Cross, is that right Ikeda?" she asks. Keas slowly makes his way towards her. "The legendary Kal Cross; the over 6 foot blur that has wiped out a whole room of men in less than twenty minutes with fourteen bullet wounds to various parts of his body. The Kal Cross that took down the majority of all of Alice's competition with his own hands?" Keas knocks out a goon with one hit to the back of the neck that was sneaking up to Marcy to take her by surprise. Franklin slowly realizes just where she's going with this. He's not sure if he's really all that surprised at this point. "Sorry but I refuse to believe that Janice Reynolds is Alice and that you, Ryouta Ikeda, is Kal," she says smugly. Keas finally stops to the right of Marcy. Janice spots him in her peripheral vision and whimpers louder than before.
"Oh please, Alice. Please don't kill me. It was a stupid idea," she speaks for the first time. "I-I'm so sorry," she whimpers, tears streaming down her face. "I had no idea you were here!" She openly sobs, snot starting to come out of her nose. Ikeda stares at Janice in anger and confusion for she had lied to them all and now there was only him and three others left. Marcy clicks her tongue a few times.
"Sorry Janice, but you know me. I'm not exactly the forgiving type after being betrayed," she whispers in Janice's ear. Janice wails loudly; she knows what's coming. Everyone stares on as Marcy digs her knife completely into her neck and slowly drags it across. Janice lets out one last wail before her vocal cords are sliced. She gurgles in desperation, her hands clawing at Marcy's arm to attempt a futile escape. Marcy finishes slitting her throat and continues to hold her until the body stops twitching. She throws the knife down so the blade goes into the dirt. She then throws the corpse forward so it lands lying on the hood of the station wagon. The auburn haired woman shifts her weight onto her right leg and puts her hand on her hip. Her heavy pistol still remains in her left hand, although now she has Janice's blood – and some of her own – dripping down and off the end of the gun. Keas stands next to her, blood splattered on his face and running down his torso. "Would anyone else like to defy me?" she offers. Ikeda and the two conscious goons all shake their heads. She turns to Trevor where they make eye contact. As if that look was all it took they nod simultaneously and he lifts his pistol. "It's too bad I can't leave any witnesses," she says with a sick grin.
Trevor fires and hits Ikeda in the side of his head. Franklin takes the cue to shoot the ginger goon in the chest until he's passed on as well. Marcy shoots the last conscious ruffian in the chest twice and the head once while Keas makes his way to the one he had knocked out. He then takes his tomahawk and brings it down swiftly on his neck effectively chopping his head clean off with one try. Marcy lets out a relieved sigh, her shoulders slumping a tad; although it's short lived with the furious Trevor stomping his way over. He gets right in her face; he doesn't touch her, but his nose is only a few inches from hers.
"What the fuck was that?" he growls out, a heated glare aimed down at her green eyes. Marcy sighs again, this time from fatigue.
"Can this wait until we're headed back to the trailer? I'd rather not stand around discussing my past with you while the police show up," she retorts. She moves passed him, her shoulder bumping into his. Keas follows her silently and picks up her knife on the way to the truck where he then hops in the back. Trevor goes to yell at her to get back over there, but Franklin steps in to calm him down.
"She's right. We really should get away from here first," he says calmly with his hands raised towards Trevor to further his point. Trevor grumbles but pushes him out of his way to get to the truck. "Why the hell am I always the sensible one?" he asks himself. "Fuck me." He shakes his head before climbing in the back of the truck as well. Trevor climbs back into the driver's seat and takes off back to his safehouse before Marcy has a chance to buckle in.
Marceline glances at Trevor and spots the red of his ears. She presses her lips together into a line. "So, what do you want to know first?" she asks. He glances at her with a glare.
"Who the fuck are you? Really?" he practically snarls out. Marcy lets out yet another sigh. Hopefully this doesn't become a habit.
"My name is Marceline Ann May, but Alice Cross is my alias. Keas, if you haven't figured it out yet, is known as Kal Cross," she starts. "I'm the real leader of Phoenix Inc. I founded it twelve years ago after trying to make an honest living wasn't paying the bills." Trevor nods; he can understand that.
"Why didn't you come clean when Ron mentioned your alias back at the trailer?" Franklin asks through the back window. Marcy jumps at his voice since she forgot the window was open and she didn't know he was listening. "Sorry," he mutters, but she shakes her head.
"It's ok. I wanted to keep who I really was a secret for a bit longer. If it wasn't someone I know then I wouldn't have revealed myself, but Janice did that for me. Keas and I are here on vacation, not to take over Phillips Enterprises or to start dealing around here. We chose this island to get away from all of that for a while since no one knew who we were here." She turns to look out the window. I had hoped it wouldn't follow me here, but I guess that was asking too much," she says quieter.
"We didn't mean to cause trouble," Keas speaks up. Franklin turns to look at him. "We got tired of hiding ourselves," he explains a bit further.
"Got tired of the criminal life, huh?" Frank asks. Marcy and Keas both nod.
"Back at home we could never relax. We were constantly moving about; making deals, selling meth, getting rid of competition, and expanding the business. It's constant work and in all honesty it's a lot of work. After the first few years I was getting sick of it," Marcy explains. "I didn't think I would be so successful and that I would've been caught by now, but that wasn't the case. I have enough money to live off of for the rest of my life already."
"So wait, let's backtrack for a second; who is this Janice lady to you? How did she know who you are?" Franklin asks. Trevor glances over; he had been wondering the same thing. Marcy swallows hard and looks down at her lap.
"She's an ex-girlfriend," she says.
"Of Keas?" Trevor asks. He really can't picture him as the relationship type. Keas shakes his head.
"Of Marcy," he clarifies. "They dated for few months before Janice find out. After that she wanted Marcy to spoil her. She quit good job because Marcy had job and money already. Marcy dumped her after that."
Trevor's grip tightens around the steering wheel. Seeing how tough Marcy was during the fight really put her on his good side, but hearing this seems to alter that image. Just as before his perverted mind plays a very intimate scene between the cowardly girl and the strong woman beside him.
Franklin shakes his head. He really isn't surprised at this point. "What about that Ikeda fellow?" Frank asks next. Marcy scoffs.
"He's the one Janice went to after me. She purposefully brought him to this café down the street from one of my labs so I would have to see them together when I went to check on that one. I know because she would try to text me about it, too," she says with a scowl. Janice had been the first and only person she tried having a romantic relationship with, which was an obvious mistake on her part. She no doubt chose the wrong person.
"Well that explains why you looked so pissed when you saw them," Franklin states. "And don't worry about a thing; Trevor and I are good at keeping secrets. No one will know who you are unless you want them to. He gives her a smile to help reassure her. Trevor snaps from his thoughts and gives Frank a lighthearted glare through the rearview mirror.
"Hey buddy, speak for yourself." Marcy feels her eyes darken, although she tries to suppress it. She really doesn't want to make any enemies at this point, especially with the crazy man next to her. Something about him seems to just irk her darker side. He looks over at her and smiles. "I won't tell, but you can bet your ass I'm gonna get you to help with some shit in the future," he says almost teasingly. Marcy grins back. "Keas, too," he adds.
"Sure thing. I love to help out my friends," she responds happily. Trevor pulls into his driveway and hops out as soon as he puts it in park. The others follow shortly after. "Do you mind if we use your place to patch up Keas? I'd like to get started on it right away," she requests of Trevor. He shakes his head.
"You don't have to ask; go head. I have an extra med kit in the bathroom if you need it. Frank and I will wait out here," he replies.
Marcy and Keas thank him before heading inside. She wastes no time in grabbing the supplies to clean the wound. As she works Keas watches her hands. His eyes trail up her toned arms and across her dark tan skinned shoulders. He goes down past her chest and inspects the bruise spread across her lower chest just above her abdomen. He knows he should bother her when she's concentrating on making him better, but he can't seem to stop his hand from reaching out and lightly touching the differently colored area. Marcy stops momentarily then continues to work on the wound.
"I got it from the explosion earlier. I ran into the steering wheel. I'll be ok, though. I'm going to put some ointment on it as soon as we get home," she explains. She knows he's concerned for her; he always is when she's hurt. She smiles lightly. "Sometimes you need to focus on your wellbeing instead of my own," she adds. Keas raises an eyebrow at her.
"I could say to you, too," he responds. Marcy smiles sheepishly, a light blush dusting her cheeks.
"I guess you could, yes. It's a bad habit of mine, but it's not one I want to stop," she replies. "Keeping you healthy is important to me, Keas." He feels his heart pick up its pace.
"So I keep you safe?" he asks. Marcy shakes her head. He tilts his head a tad to the right in confusion.
Marcy feels her blush deepen a bit. "Not for that reason," she responds. "I care about you; when you're sick or hurt I worry about you. I appreciate and am thankful that you work so hard to keep me safe, but we're not working anymore. We can do whatever we want here with no one to tell us otherwise. We can ride bikes and motorcycles and Jet-skis. We can go on Ferris Wheel rides, eat vendor hotdogs that make us regret it after a few hours, and play dart games all we want just like yesterday." With a small grunt of effort Marcy removes the bullet from his body. Keas says nothing. Because the bullet was in his lower abdomen she had to get on her knees to treat the wound correctly while he sits on the couch, so when she looks into his eyes it's a bit more strain than it usually is. "You're a very important person to me, Keas."
Keas feels like his hear is going to burst with how fast it's beating. "Why not tell me sooner?" he asks. She gives him and almost exasperated look.
"Haven't you ever heard of the term, 'actions speak louder than words'? I didn't think I needed to." Marcy grabs some stitches and a curved needle from Trevor's med kit and starts getting them ready.
Keas ponders her words for a moment. It's true that whenever he would get hurt Marcy was the first person to make sure he was ok, even when the danger wasn't gone yet. One time she even burnt a cut on his leg to stop the bleeding before letting him continue fighting. The time he got those fourteen bullet wounds was the worst. Marcy went on a long rant about how he was completely reckless and scaring her half to death as she patched him up, and then she baked him brownie cookies afterward as a thank you. Keas recalls a couple nights after that he had a large fever caused by lead poisoning from the bullets. He had refused to go to the hospital and remained in bed for the majority of two weeks. Marcy had paid for a doctor to come to the house to treat him and even gave him extra hush money to keep it all a secret. That first night she had fallen asleep in a chair next to his bed with the washcloth she had just replaced still in her hand. He remembers waking up and finding her there. A chuckle escapes him at the memory. She was so mad when she woke up in his bed and for him in the chair instead. He just couldn't stand to see her asleep in a chair while he was in a nice, soft bed.
Keas feels tugging on his skin and looks down to see Marceline putting the stitches in. He recalls how sloppy she was that day they met when putting stitches in him for the first time. She had to run to the store just to get the medical supplies to treat his wounds since she only had small adhesive bandages in her house. He sat on the counter while she tried to clean it. He still didn't know her name at the time, but he does remember thinking how beautiful she looked despite being soaked from the rain.
He looks down at her again, this time with a certain softness to his blue eyes. Her auburn hair is longer now, reaching just below her shoulder blades in loose curls rather than resting on her shoulders. She has it pulled back in a ponytail so it stays out of her way as she works, but her bangs are still loose and parted mostly to her left. Her pale green eyes are still as memorizing to him now as they were back then. They still make him tongue tied when speaking to her sometimes.
Marcy finishes the stitches and makes sure they won't tear anytime soon. She looks up at Keas with a grin. "There. That should hold until we remove them. How does it feel?" she asks. Keas reaches down and touches the stitches lightly.
"Much better," he responds. He reaches out and cups her cheek with his large hand. A blush overcomes her face when he moves her bands out of the way, leans down, and kisses her forehead lightly for a few seconds. He pulls away and drops his hands to his lap while giving her a soft smile. "Thank you for that."
Marcy feels her face burning up and turns her head away so he can't see her blush, although it was already too late. "You're welcome," she almost squeaks out. She stands and moves to put Trevor's med kid back into the bathroom just as she hears his voice from outside.
"Hey. When do you plan to head home?" Trevor asks from the doorway. His eyes don't miss the blush slowly fading from Marcy's cheeks. He raises an eyebrow at the two but doesn't verbally question it. Marcy coughs once to try and dissipate the blush some more before turning to face him.
"I'm not sure. It is only," she looks at Keas' watch, "3:00p.m. Did you have anything in mind?" Trevor gives them both a grin.
"I figured we could go grab a few beers or something. Ron overheard a radio transmission that the cops are looking for the killers of Janice and them so we should probably leave Sandy Shores," he explains. Marcy nods.
"Makes sense. Sounds like fun," she replies. "But we have to take the speedboat. I promised I would return it to Blake when the head died down, and I'm a person-"
"Of your word," Trevor interrupts. "Yeah you said that earlier. Fine. I'll drop you guys off at the boat and meet you at the bar. I'm taking the truck," he responds. He turns and heads back down the porch steps. Marceline turns to speak to Keas but jumps when she finds him standing right next to her. She thought he was still sitting on the couch.
"Who's Blake?" Keas asks. He never heard her mention his name before, and is somewhat suspicious.
"Oh, he's the person I borrowed the boat from. I offered to bring it back when we were done. He seemed like a nice kid, although his manners could use some work. Not to mention we can always steal another boat if we need to," she explains. He nods and doesn't say anything more as he walks out the door. Marcy stands there for a few moments longer.
"Did I say something wrong?" she asks aloud. She quickly puts Trevor's med kit back into the bathroom before following him out of the trailer. It's time to see how strong this friendship really is.
Happy Holidays, everyone! Thank you so much for reading my story and continuing to showing me support. I would like to especially thank Dovahstav for the reviews. They really keep me going when I'm getting stuck in writing and trying to find the motivation to keep going. I hope everyone enjoys their time with their families during this time; I know I am. Thank you again!
-Jen