Welcome to Gaia! ::

Pain made everything worse. It reminded him he was alive. That he existed. That he was human. That he'd escaped. That somehow, even when he'd been ready, even when he knew there was no chance, somehow, some goddamn miracle bullshit happened and he'd lived.
Somehow he'd beaten such miniscule odd and survived his own death.

Now he was allowed to take the bandages off. To try and move, to see just what was left of him.

What hadn't been ruined.
What hadn't been ripped from him.
What remained of the human he'd once been.

His mouth was dry, tubes that ran down his throat leaving a horrid fluoride like taste. He wanted a glass of water.
He wanted to hear music and not the seady beating of his own heart in the empty room.
He wanted company.

He wanted to feel human.

He wanted Cass.

To see her, to touch her, to feel human. She would make him feel human. She would make him feel alive. Because if he hadn't survived for her- he didn't know why he'd have bothered to survive at all.

The door creaked open and he didn't shift his head. He waited. The doctors and nurses would come in, quiet, take his vitals, run tests, leave. Already so many tests. Negatives apparently. All good. He was getting better- but the process was slow. Agonizingly slow. Desidero had nearly been destroyed from pouring himself into Marcus, and Marcus had nearly died and come back as one of them from how much FEAR his body had been exposed to- how much had been from his location, and how much had been from Dis converting the FEAR into energy in desperation to keep the hunter alive after such extensive damage was still undetermined.

He was still human though.
He'd still come out human.
Barely.

The vampire was mostly quiet, resting, watching communicating only when Marcus was at that cusp of sleep and teetering on the edge of his own subconscious.

He smelled Cass before he saw her- a thing he'd been told, would fade in time hopefully. Lingering effects of the adrenaline and his body's hyper alert state when attempting to recover.

She smell like home, and it hurt his chest to think about it.

He had to wet hip lips, keep them from cracking more than they had been. "Hey." He didn't move, eyes remaining closed, curtains still closed, lights still off. The tiny amount of light that did get in was more than enough for him.

"Sorry. Been..sleepy."

He knew they would come. Salty wet tears that would run down her face, snot that would plug up her cute nose, lips tumbling out with worried words and affirmations of love. He knew her. He loved her. Yet again here he wasn, hurt, a source of her worry and pain. Guilt wracked him.

It would have been worse had he died.

"No." His voice rasped it out. He lived. Was alive. Survived- she kept him fighting. The idea of her smile, her hand holding his- warm, oh so warm on the scars that burned with each touch. A pain he embraced. So what if each touch of her was fire? It meant he was alive, healing- and if not for her then damn who ever else.

"Won't leave." His thumb could barely move, yet he pushed it, pain and all to stroke her skin. To give back that touch that filled him with pain yet gave him such happiness. To be alive, to be with her again.
"............ You eating?" His lip quirked at the question, mouth grotesquely opening and turning upward- still healing.

He couldn't help the small sound of discomfort the pressure made on his hand. Pain was pain, but he was fine. It wasn't as bad as it normally was. Mental was a large part of how one saw pain and when it was her it was less. Anyways less.

Still, he tried to smile for her, poke her gently. "Eat real food." The most miniscule of squeezes to her hand followed, while his good hand and arm reached blindly for his water. Talking already had dried his throat.

"Drink too."

His good eye stared her down, clearly expressing just was he thought of applesauce being enough real food. The water brought to his lips, sucking down the liquid via straw- he sighed and relaxed, the taste of water itself something to be enamored with.

"Could go for that." He smiled, trying to reach up, brush the hair from her face. "Wine- nice dinner when I'm out. A date." He'd need it. They both would need it, deserve it even.

He managed the gentle touch, arm falling to his high with a louder sigh.
"Missed you." he wanted to kiss her. He desperately want to just kiss her.
His good hand reached up, tracing his lips, hitting the scar and stopping, pulling away.

"............." His face turned to her own, eyes half tired, yet only on her.
".......kiss me?"

That was what broke him. The feeling of her lips on his own. That softness, the smell of her, that touch that was so real and so familiar he dreamed of it when they were apart. She was his everything. He didn't care if the date got put off for another portal shut down. He didn't care if their home once more was ruined. So long as she was by his side, so long as she could be with him, accept him flaws and all, he'd be okay. He had a reason to keep fighting.

He felt the burn in his sealed eye as they soaked bandages, he lost what little vision he had in his good eye. His scarred hand came out, grabbing at her own, squeezing.

"I was ready." He muttered it out. "I was so close to- I almost gave up." The heart monitor began to beep louder, faster as he recalled what they said to him. Their moon. He wasn't. He was Cass's moon. Her's and her's alone. And he'd been that close to just accepting losing her.
To accepting death.
"Stay with me. Please stay." He didn't want to heart his own heartbeat anymore. Smell the sterile hospital room. Feel the tubes inside of him. Think about how they had touched him. How they violated him. How they had literally carved their claim into his raw flesh.

"Stay."
He just wanted to be with Cass and feel like he was alive again.

The beeping slowed, steadied out. Evened, his breathing became less labored, less choppy as she climbed into the bed with him. She was beside him again. She was next to him. Warm. Soft. Alive. This was real. This was the reality, the life he fought for.

This was why he had come back.

She called herself selfish but really, he was the selfish one, the one demanding she put up with his mistakes. His ******** ups. His flaws. His problems. She was his rock, and yet he beat on her constantly like an ocean. Afraid he's wear her down until nothing was left.

Yet he wanted to be her rock. Her lighthouse. Her everything and anything. The tears stopped burning, and the feeling of her heart beating was like a drum against him. Steady and warm and constant. He didn't realize how tired he was until she climbed into bed with him. He loved her. He loved her and he would come back for her. He'd always go back to her side.

Eye closing, he relaxed, focusing on that sound he'd missed for so long. The sound of her heart, beating right by his own.