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Tomorrow never dies

Summary:

My interpretation of Whumptober, Day 17: Nowhere else to go + "We had a good run"

Marc would have never thought that he would open his door to his Ex-Husband or one of his children ever again.
But here they are.

Now he has to somehow deal with a house full of hitmans, one of whom is badly injured, another is his ex, and the rest most likely hate him. And to top it all off, he has to find some excuse to explain to his boss that he can't come to work, because of course he's an agent.
Then you can't just say "Sorry, my ex, who betrayed the whole organization and me, and who almost made me defect, is visiting to pick up his seriously injured son, who is of course also a contract killer."

His house would probably be surrounded within minutes. And this is really bad, he can't stand strangers trampling through his garden, especially when they trample on his freshly planted hibiscus.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Someone knocks on his door. As Marc goes and opens it, he faces someone he never thought would stand here one day.

Pecco stands in front of him, arm raised to knock again. Both freeze and stare into each other's eyes. Slowly Marc recovers and looks up and down at the other, registering his bruises on the arms and the red-bordered cuts in his white t shirt.

“Hi.”, Pecco finally brings out and brings the hand down to scratch his neck embarrassed. “Sorry that I suddenly show up, I just was in a fight and my room is compromised, no one else is in reach and my phone broke during the fight-” Marc holds up a hand to stop him. “Shorter.” The younger takes a deep breath. “I had nowhere else to go. And I think I’m passing out.” Just as he says it, his legs give way beneath him and he falls in Marc's direction, but is able to catch himself just in time with one arm on the door frame.

“Would you maybe please give me your first aid kit? And a phone?”, he asks with an desperate undertone in his voice.

Marc signs and grabs the other arm of the younger, supports him and helps him in. “Of course you had to choose the agent.” “Like I said, I had nowhere else to go.” Pecco pants and tries hard to keep up with the pace of the Spaniard, who is currently dragging the entire weight of the younger man with him.

The older only rolls his eyes and lets him sit down on the couch. “If you get blood on it, you get kicked out. I just replaced it.”, he warns him, before stepping out of the room again to close the door and get his medical kit.

As he comes back, Pecco still sits where he sat him off, eyes nearly closed and gasping for air. Marc lets out another sigh and slightly slaps in the face him to keep him awake. “Don’t sleep in.”, he warns him and throws an electrolyte drink at him. “Come on, drink! You need it.” Pecco nods tiredly and begins drinking. His face twists and he starts to cough.

Marc only shakes his head annoyed and grabs the scissors to cut his shirt open. “This generation of today. Totally useless.”, he grumbles. “Hey!”, Pecco tries to protest, but cries out, as Marc soaks one of the wounds in disinfectant and presses a cloth onto it. “You’re not that much older!”, he brings out between whimpers. “Hold still.” Marc begins stitching up the biggest stab wound on his hip.

“Damn, this is deep. Who made it?”, he asks and looks up towards the Italian. “A group of six got me on the street. Don’t know who they were, but they obviously knew me. And they were skilled.” “And you didn’t ran when they got their knives out?” “Tried to, but they were fast. Was happy I could escape in the end.” Silence spreads, as Marc continues to sew his wounds. Pecco takes a few more sips now and then, but mostly fights the cries and some yawns.

Eventually, Marc lays the needle and thread down onto the sterile tablet and after applying the last bandage he gets the gloves off. He packs everything together and then stands up. “When have you eaten anything for the last time?” Pecco shrugs. “I had some breakfast. Before the bastards attacked me, I was on search for lunch.” Marc nods and turns to go. “I’ll make some pasta, you sleep.”

He holds before the doorstep. “Pecco?” “Yeah?” He had already laid down and adjusted a pillow after Marc had said the word. “It’s good that you came. A few minutes more and you would have had a serious problem.” Pecco hides his smile in the pillow. “Thank you for your help.” Marc nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Behind that door, he takes a deep breath and goes through his hair. He puts the medical set back in its place in the small storage room and throws the bag with the used materials into the trash. Then, he goes into the kitchen and leans on the counter. With a rumbling stomach he dials the one number that he still knows by heart after all these years and prays that he still has that burner.

A deep sense of relief runs through him when the call is answered and someone answers. Breaths greet him, none of them say anything for a moment.

“Vale.”, he finally brings out scratchily. “We need to talk.”

After another painful minute of silence, the other responds. “Why now?”

“Because Pecco stood in front of my door and almost bled to death on my couch.” “Is he fine?”, comes right back. “Yes, by now. I patched him up and now he is sleeping. But he can’t stay here.” “Oh yeah, I forgot, you as an agent can’t be in contact with criminals.”, Valentino hisses angrily. “This isn’t fair.”, Marc tries to protest, already feeling like shit again. It’s the effect Valentino always had onto him after their big fight.

“Then why did you call me?” “Because someone needs to pick him up.” “You could have called Luca.” It sounds cold, emotionless, and Marc feels his frustration rising. “Your son nearly died today, sorry that I called you first to inform you!” His voice got louder. “I should have expected that you can’t put away our history for a second to put him first and be a responsible father!” It hit the nail on the head, they both know it.

Vale speaks again after a second. This time, however, he sounds shocked, and his voice becomes softer. “You’re right.” “Never thought I would hear these words from you.”, Marc scoffs. “You’re right and I will pick him up. Is he fine right now or do we need to prepare the operation room?”

Marc goes through his hair again and begins to calm down a bit. “Would be better if you prepare all tests. Including an ultrasound and a CT. I think he was hit on the head, and he sounds like he has fluid in his lungs, possibly blood.”, he admits worried. “Okay, we will prepare for that. I’ll be there in three to four hours.” “You’re flying?” “Yes”, confirms Vale. “Uccio is letting the airplane prepare while we’re speaking.” Silence again. “Call me, when something happens.”, Vale says softly. “I’ll do.”

The call ends and Marc puts the phone on the counter behind him. Exhausted, he rubs through his face and gives himself a small moment to rest. He knows how stressful this day will get. After a short while, he turns around and concentrates again. Time for him to cook. He probably has to feed some people today, including the sleeping mess on his couch and his Ex-Husband.

Notes:

YAY ANOTHER UPDATE TODAY
WROTE OVER THOUSEND WORDS TOO
FUTHER NOTES WILL BE ADDED; NEED TO WALK MY DOG RN, HE HAS HIS BIRTHDAY, I CAN'T LET HIM WAIT FOR TOO LONG.