Work Text:
I
"Sejanus?"
The word escaped his mouth before Marcus could even think about the consequences. It was impulse, or instinct, or whatever you want to call it. Marcus thought about just keep walking and pretending he hadn't said it, that it never happened, but it was already too late. He hoped he had mistaken the face, that it was actually a wrong impression and he could then apologize for disrupting someone's day, but when the person turned around and he caught a glimpse of those big brown eyes, he knew right then that there was no mistake. Marcus would have recognized him anywhere.
It was Sejanus Plinth's big brown eyes staring back at him on the wide street Marcus walked every day on his way back home.
He thought he would never see him again. And he felt the urge to shout at him, the same urge he felt every time that face appeared in his dreams. Or he could just make an annoyed expression and keep walking, not saying a word, to go back home and scream into the pillow. It could have happened in many different ways if it were other circumstances, if he were seeing Sejanus's freckled and round face again, this time more mature than what appeared in his memories, at another time. But it was a crucial element that made Marcus make the decision he made, and that made his heart stop and his blood freeze:
"Why the hell are you holding a baby?"
His first question wasn't "how's life," or "is the Capitol as luxurious as they say?" or "how's your mother?" and certainly not "why did you leave me? Why did you leave me behind? I thought you were different."
The shock of seeing that little thing in Sejanus's arms was greater than any pain.
It was a baby that didn't look like it was from the Districts, wrapped in embroidered blankets, tiny hands clutching Sejanus's furry coat. The pale skin, the blue eyes, the blonde locks, none of it deceived that the child was from the Capitol. But... the freckles sprinkled on the baby's pale face... and the tufts of curls... and those big eyes, even though they weren't brown, even though they didn't exude the comfort Marcus loved and remembered in his dreams...
It couldn't be, could it? Sejanus was the same age as him. Twenty. Twenty years old. He should be in college. He should be taking advantage of all the opportunities a place like the Capitol had to offer. He should be confirming all the anger Marcus had accumulated for years. He shouldn't be looking so sad. He shouldn't have widened his eyes, as if embarrassed, and looking around nervously. He shouldn't be adjusting the baby in his arms, smiling nervously. His big eyes shouldn't look so empty.
"Hello, Marcus," he spoke in a soft, small voice, as if he didn't want to be speaking in the first place, not looking into Marcus's eyes. "It's good to see you again too. I'm doing fine, if that's what you want to know."
Marcus didn't feel ashamed for asking such a direct question. If anything, it strengthened his confusion. He frowned. Why wasn't Sejanus looking him in the eyes?
"This here is Julius," Sejanus adjusted the baby in his arms so that Marcus could see the chubby face better; he held the child's hand and waved to Marcus. "Say hi to your Pa's friend, Julius! That's it, sweetheart, this is Marcus. Uncle Marcus."
Say hi to your Pa's friend. Marcus watched the baby laughing in Sejanus's arms, who smiled and kissed the baby's forehead. Julius. That was the child's name.
Sejanus had a baby.
If there had been any doubt before, it no longer existed.
"He... is adorable, Sejanus. But I didn't know people in the Capitol had children so early.”
Sejanus forced a smile, and now, stopping to observe better, Marcus felt a shiver run down his spine. Sejanus's big dark eyes didn't have the same sparkle and life he remembered from when they were children. They seemed empty. Was that what the Capitol did to people?
"Usually they don't, indeed. It's just that..." he bit his lower lip. "Sometimes, life takes you to unexpected places, I guess."
The two fell into silence. Marcus frowned at the gold ring on Sejanus's ring finger, but didn't say anything. He hoped at least the alpha he had married was treating him well.
(His heart squeezed a little at the thought, because of course Sejanus would have married an alpha. Everyone warned him, didn't they? That this would be his ending, that there was no reason for Marcus to waste his time on someone like him. Still, he couldn't help but feel betrayed, remembering all the times Sejanus held his hand and smiled at him, saying he would choose a beta like Marcus over a hundred other alphas. Still, it was nonsense. They were kids. There was no reason to hold a grudge about it. Wasn't it...? Wasn't it?)
He could end the conversation there. He could have said a dry "goodbye" and continue his way back home, where he would go to his room and stare at the ceiling with crossed arms for the rest of the night, or maybe buy cheap wine on the way to try to forget the encounter he just had. There were so many ways to go on with life after seeing his childhood crush on the street, much better ways than the impulsive act Marcus took of running a hand through his hair and saying:
"Do you want to take a walk? To. You know. Talk about life."
For me to understand what the hell is going on.
For me to understand why the hell you're here.
For me to understand... why you left me.
Sejanus smiled at him, a big smile that made the dimples on his freckled cheeks appear. He adjusted the baby in his arms.
"Well. Why not?"
“In the first semester? You folks in the Capitil never heard of something called a condom?”
“I used a condom, Marcus, I appreciate the concern. But sometimes accidents happen, and that was the case.”
“Wow, Sejanus, that sucks. I mean. With all due respect. Your baby is adorable, but...”
“It's okay. I'm not going to pretend it's not a crappy situation. But the plan is that as soon as Julius gets older, I'll go back to college, and for now, my husband is taking care of things. And... well... I love my baby. You're the cutest little boy in the world, aren't you?! Yes, you are!”
Marcus watched Sejanus in silence, sitting beside him on the park bench in the heart of District 2. He observed how he smiled at the baby in his lap, who laughed and waved his little arms. He watched as he showered kisses on the baby's head, Julius, and murmured words of love. He observed how much he resembled his own mother. Marcus thought about how Sejanus used to talk, when they were much younger, about not understanding why his mother was still married to his father. Marcus wondered if Sejanus understood now... or not. Maybe he had married a good man. Maybe the father of that child was very different from the Strabo Plinth that Marcus remembered seeing around the affluent area of District 2.
(In the Capitol? Marcus highly doubted it. But it's not like he cared about Sejanus, right? It's not like he cared, it's not like he...)
“And what about you?” Sejanus asked, turning his attention back to Marcus now. “How's life?”
Marcus felt his shoulders slump.
“Fine.”
“Fine? That's it? What have you been up to, what are you working on...?”
He didn't want to tell Sejanus that he had become just another quarry worker who feared for his life every day, who went home and drank at the end-of-the-street bar on weekends, and who stared at the ceiling of his room thinking about what the future held for him with such a monotonous and predictable life in a shitty country. Marcus shrugged. He didn't look into his eyes. Maybe Sejanus got the message, because he didn't ask again.
“And are you... seeing someone?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Come on. The first thing you asked when you saw me was what I was doing with a baby. It's the least I'm entitled to ask.”
Marcus crossed his arms. He stared at a fixed point where some children were walking together, probably coming back from school in the end-of-year cold. He wasn't going to tell Sejanus that he never managed to date anyone again. It was too humiliating, especially now that Sejanus was married and even had a child.
“I dated a guy from the architecture offices in the West for a while,” a lie, and he hoped Sejanus wouldn't ask much more so he wouldn't have to escalate the lie, because Marcus was terrible at lying, “but it was only for a few months. I guess I'm not really a fan of relationships.”
And not much of a fan of other things either. He tried, but it never worked. Not really. Marcus hated himself for sometimes seeming like when Sejanus left, he took his heart with him, but he hated Sejanus even more for it.
“And here I was thinking that between the two of us, you'd be the first to get married,” Sejanus smiled at him, a smirk, and looked him up and down before whistling. “I mean, age has been very kind to you. And you were already very handsome back then.”
Marcus felt his cheeks warm. He had heard many people compliment his looks, it wasn't like it was an uncommon thing, and he was aware that he was a handsome man. It shouldn't be a big deal. But Sejanus always had this effect on him, didn't he? He always managed to make Marcus's heart race and his blood freeze and his cheeks blush. It wasn't fair. It had been so long, he wished he had left that behind.
“Look who's talking,” Marcus muttered softly, almost as if he didn't want Sejanus to hear.
“You don't have to say that just to be kind,” Sejanus's smile bordered on sadness.
“Shut up.”
“Seriously. I know I was lucky that Coryo decided to put up with me, but...”
Sejanus was the most beautiful omega Marcus had ever seen in his entire life, and that was just from what he remembered of his face from childhood. Seeing him now, older, he was more beautiful than ever. He had grown up to look a lot like Mrs. Plinth, the brown curls falling on his freckled round face under the big brown eyes. Marcus was trying his best to avoid looking at Plinth's thighs, because he knew he wouldn't be able to disguise how flushed he would become. He wanted to punch Sejanus for even saying such a thing.
“By the mountains, Sejanus, I'm going to punch you.”
He forced a laugh, but didn't say anything. He looked into nothing. Marcus, for a moment, wondered when was the last time someone had said how beautiful Sejanus was in a place like the Capitol, and his heart clenched. They fell silent for a moment, the only sound being the cold wind and the soft sounds of the baby playing with the buttons on the heavy coat he was wearing.
“And what are you doing here?” Marcus broke the ice.
“I wanted Julius to see where his Pa was born and raised,” and there were the dimples in his cheeks again and the love with which he looked at the baby. “I'm staying at my aunt's house until tomorrow.”
Until tomorrow. Marcus swallowed the lump in his throat. He tried to push aside the thought that had crossed his mind minutes earlier, but it was ridiculous. Of course it was ridiculous. They were in completely different worlds at this point.
“And then you go back to the Capitol, right?”
“Yeah. I go back to the Capitol.”
They fell silent for another moment. The baby, Julius, laughed and pointed at a butterfly flying nearby.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Are you happy, Sejanus?”
Marcus thought that the delay Sejanus took to answer such a simple question shouldn't be normal. He adjusted Julius in his lap, looking a little nervous, avoiding eye contact; it seemed like any stone on the ground was more important than looking into Marcus's eyes. Finally, after the silence, he spoke in a small voice:
“I think I'd be happier if I had stayed with you.”
Marcus nodded. He felt like he needed a cigarette.
“And you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Are you happy?”
No. Marcus wasn't happy.
“I never expected much from life anyway.”
They fell silent for another moment.
“Tomorrow I'll be at the train station. Will you take me there?”
“It's not like you don't remember the way to the train station.”
“I remember. I just... wanted you to be there.”
What did Marcus have to lose?
The next day, he was there, at the address he remembered where Sejanus's aunt lived and there was a small bakery. They didn't talk much as they walked to the train station. Marcus offered to carry the bags since Sejanus was carrying the baby, Julius, in his arms. They walked in silence. Sejanus kissed Marcus's cheek before boarding the train with the bags. Through the window, Marcus saw him sitting in one of the seats. Sejanus smiled and waved. He held the baby's hand to wave to Marcus too. Marcus smiled back, a weak corner-of-the-mouth smile, but still a smile, and waved his hand. The train soon departed.
It would be four years until Marcus saw Sejanus Plinth again.
II
"Sejanus?"
He would have recognized him anywhere, in any clothes, even painted a different color. It was Sejanus Plinth whom Marcus saw returning home from work on that winter evening.
The last time Marcus saw Sejanus was four years ago, and the moment was tattooed in his mind. It took weeks before he could resume his miserable life as before, without coming home and drinking a bottle of cheap wine while staring at the white painted wall every day. Without waking up in the middle of the night with dreams haunting his vision and with a racing heart and the feeling of emptiness he thought he had left behind. He didn't think he would see him again, to be honest. That's why it felt like time had stopped when he saw that figure passing by him again.
Sejanus had stopped, frozen in place just ahead of Marcus. This time, he didn't have a baby in his arms, but the exhaustion on his face was the same, if not worse. How much time had passed since the last time? Four years? And Sejanus looked so much older, as if he had lived twenty years in the four that had passed, the lines under his eyes making him too similar to the miserable faces Marcus saw when passing through the houses of the Urban Center.
Still, Sejanus smiled. And Marcus felt relieved to see that the dimples were still there. For a minute, he felt afraid that Sejanus had lost that too.
"Marcus!" he was surprised when Sejanus didn't hesitate to take a step forward and hug him, a hug that seemed to last too long, a hug too tight. "I thought I'd never see you around here again!"
He wasn't going to admit that he thought the same, and that he was terrified of the same idea, and that when he was drunk he leaned his elbows on the windowsill of his room while looking at the horizon where the sun rose and silently prayed for the mountains to grant him a wish. Just one wish. Maybe the mountains were more real than he liked to believe. Sejanus stepped back from him, still smiling. He seemed happier than the last time he saw him.
"And your little boy?"
"Julius?" Sejanus' smile grew even wider, as if it were possible to smile more than he already did. "Oh, he's so grown already, and you should see how smart he is! He'll be five next July. His baby teeth started falling out too... but this time I left him with my mom while I come here. I wanted to take a trip alone, you know?"
"Really? A solo trip? I thought maybe you'd want to bring your husband here too. Who knows, maybe people from the Capitol like to visit the mountains."
Marcus joked, although he had never been good at making jokes anyway. But this time, he knew he had said something wrong. It was the way Sejanus' huge smile faltered, and it was how his shoulders drooped, and it was how his eyes shifted to some corner of the asphalted ground, as if anything were better than having to look Marcus in the eyes. Marcus felt awful about himself for a moment, but he also couldn't help but be curious: what was Sejanus' husband like?
He spent a long time thinking about it, more time than he would like to admit, more time than he would even admit aloud because it was too humiliating. He gritted his teeth remembering the blond curls and blue eyes of the baby, and wondered since when Sejanus liked blonds. He remembered Sejanus mentioning that his husband was taking care of things, and wondered what he did for a living, and also wondered if Sejanus would accept if Marcus took care of things for him, if Sejanus would choose a simple life with a beta who returned with various scars from the quarry instead of the luxurious and spacious house where he surely lived, and where surely his son ran through the corridors, and where maybe it was empty and cold.
(That was ridiculous. It was just another of his drunken thoughts in the early morning. But still. Still. Marcus couldn't help but think about it, especially with the way Sejanus reacted to his husband being mentioned.)
"Things aren't..." Sejanus bit his lower lip, as if carefully choosing the words he would say, "going very well between me and my husband. I mean," a rueful laugh escaped his mouth, "I don't know if I can still call him that. Husband."
Marcus felt his heart stop. He felt terrible for a minute, wanting to shut the worst part of his brain, the most selfish part, the most terrible part, up. He didn't say aloud his first thought. He kept it under lock and key in his mind. But he needed to know more. If not for his worst desires, then for Sejanus' safety. He heard rumors of what was expected of omegas in the Capital and the concern he felt was more than any other despicable feeling.
"Was he hurting you?"
His voice trembled a little thinking about the possibility. Sejanus automatically shook his head.
"No. Not like that. It's just... it's complicated. And I need some time to think about what I'm going to do."
Marcus fell silent for a minute. He still felt an indescribable anger at the thought of someone hurting Sejanus, in any way. But he thought about the sadness overflowing from Sejanus' big eyes, and he thought about how his smile faltered, and he thought he had nothing to lose. He thought he could just say "bye" and go buy the same cheap wine as always, and he thought it could take four years before he could see Sejanus again. He thought about all this when he opened his mouth and spoke without thinking too much:
"Do you want to come drink at my place and talk?"
Sejanus fell silent, eyebrows raised for a minute. He seemed to consider the possibility. He bit his lower lip.
"Tomorrow is still Saturday. You don't work tomorrow?"
Sejanus, sweet and kind Sejanus, always thinking of others first, never thinking of what he wanted as a priority.
"Tomorrow's my day off, so I don't have to worry about a hangover. Let's go. You look like you need to talk to someone."
He seemed to think a little more before smiling.
"Yeah. I think I really do need to talk. You look good with a goatee, by the way."
Marcus hoped Sejanus hadn't noticed how his cheeks warmed at the innocent comment.
He would be lying if he said he didn't know how things ended up like that because the truth was he knew very well how things ended up like that, with Sejanus' body against his on the couch. Because the truth is he knew and knew very well.
He knew things ended up like that because, instead of the cheap wine, he grabbed the most expensive one he had tucked away in a corner of the little house he now lived in at East Point and sat down with Sejanus beside him as they sipped. Things ended up like that because Marcus' life was monotonous, dull, and uneventful, so all he did was sit there, listening to Sejanus talk about life in the Capitol, about how much he loved his baby but didn't know if he could continue enduring it, about how he and his husband were no longer together and he planned to file for divorce, about how he wanted to go back to studying, about how life had taken a turn he had never desired. Things ended up like that because as he spoke, the only thing Marcus could focus on was the large, kissable lips moving and talking incessantly. Things ended up like that because Marcus could never stand seeing Sejanus cry, never endured the way his lower lip trembled and tears streamed over his freckles, and Marcus had to hold his face and wipe his tears the way he did when they were just children.
"Don't cry," he murmured to him, his thumb wiping away each wet spot on his cheeks. "It will be okay. You deserve better than this."
He knew things ended up like that because he also knew he had always dreamed that Sejanus wanted him the same way he desired him. The only surprise in the whole situation was when Sejanus closed the distance between them, pressing his lips into a desperate kiss. And Marcus didn't stop him.
"Are you sure?" was all Marcus managed to ask amidst his heavy breathing, amidst Sejanus' desperate kisses, amidst the warmth of his hands against his face. "Are you sure this is what you want? I don't want to hurt you."
"More than anything," Sejanus whispered against his lips, kissing the curve of his mouth as he climbed onto his lap as if it was nothing, as if it hadn't crossed Marcus' mind more times than he'd like to admit. "Don't be afraid to hurt me. They've already done enough."
The couch was too small for something so grand. Marcus carried him to the bedroom, climbing the stairs that creaked with each step. Sejanus had told him not to be afraid of hurting him, but he couldn't help but place him on the bed as if he were the most precious thing in the world. His hands, calloused from quarry work, left no inch of Sejanus' body unexplored. He traced every one of his freckles, traced his scars, kissed his skin. He got drunk on swallowing every sound that came from his mouth, kissing him every minute, not wanting it to end, not wanting any detail to escape, not wanting to forget how Sejanus breathed against his skin and how his thumb traced the hideous scar on Marcus' cheek.
"Beautiful," Sejanus murmured between moans again and again every time he arched his back, every time Marcus pulled his curls, every time his fingers traced the scar. "You are so beautiful. It's not fair."
"What's not fair?" was the only thing Marcus managed to grunt amidst his heavy breathing.
Sejanus chuckled, a laughter that was mixed with another moan, then swallowed by another desperate kiss from Marcus.
"How beautiful you are."
Sejanus hugged him as if Marcus were a teddy bear, or a pillow, something you hold onto when you seek comfort when you're scared as a child. Marcus had never slept so well in his entire life as he did with Sejanus there, beside him, hugging him like that.
His heart skipped a beat when he woke up the next day and felt the other side of the bed.
Sejanus wasn't there.
Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it was an illusion. Maybe it never happened. Maybe Marcus had really hit rock bottom.
"Oh, you're awake!"
He blinked at the bedroom door, where he stood, and his heart started beating again. Sejanus was smiling at him, wearing nothing but the white button-up shirt he had slept in on his bed the night before.
"Why is your kitchen so empty?" He walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge near where Marcus was lying, still shocked by the reality of the whole situation. "I went down to start making a pie, but couldn't find any sugar. Or flour. By the mountains, Marcus, you don't even have bread here. On the other hand, you have a lot of wine. Don't you think you drink too much?"
"And don't you think you're too nosy?"
"Not when it comes to you."
"If you want ingredients for pie," Marcus stretched, stretching his arms and sitting in the place he had been lying down, "we can go to the market."
And they went to the market, except they didn't just come back with pie ingredients, but also with groceries that should last Marcus the whole month. He had insisted it wasn't necessary, but Sejanus was too stubborn, and had said it wasn't healthy for Marcus to keep living like this. He sat in the chair at the dining table, his chin resting on his fist as he watched Sejanus make the pie, moving around like an authority in the kitchen, and thinking about what would be his farewell this time.
Sejanus only left on Monday morning. He slept from Saturday to Sunday wrapped in Marcus' arms, kissing his shoulders and murmuring obscenities, and didn't sleep from Sunday to Monday. He remained with his head resting on Marcus' shoulder as he stroked his sweaty curls.
"And what are you going to do after you divorce your husband?" It was Marcus who broke the silence at one in the morning when neither of them could fall asleep.
"I... don't know," Sejanus shrugged. "Maybe start my life over. Go back to studying. Julius is older now, my Ma can help me take care of him."
They fell silent for another moment.
"Do you think about going back to District 2?"
Silence. Sejanus even opened his mouth, but closed it.
"District 2 is my home. But..."
Silence again.
"I have Julius now. You understand, don’t you...?"
Marcus nodded. He understood more than he would like. He felt sick to his stomach just thinking about having children with the Hunger Games.
"I understand. But still... maybe it could work. You could figure it out. You could..."
Live a life with me. You could live by my side. You could be my everything. I don't have much to give you, but I would put the moon in the sky for you. That's what Marcus wanted to say. It wasn't what he said.
"It sounds like a peaceful life," Sejanus murmured softly. "It sounds... like my dream life. Too good to be true, though."
"But promise me," Marcus insisted, "that you'll at least consider it. You deserve happiness just like anyone else, Sejanus."
Silence. And then Sejanus nodded.
"Alright. I... I'll think about it. And I'll send you a letter."
Marcus took him to the train station the next day. There was no logical reason for him to have helped carry his suitcases. The only reason was because it was simply Sejanus, and there were few things they wouldn't do for him, and now it was too late to admit otherwise or anything that contradicted that. He pulled him close. He wasn't sure if it was right to kiss him on the mouth. He wasn't sure what that weekend had meant. But still, he buried his nose in his curls that now smelled like the cheap shampoo they bought at the supermarket and now sat in Marcus' bathroom. He kissed the top of his head.
"Even if it's not to stay," Sejanus murmured softly, low enough for only Marcus to hear, like a secret between the two of them, "I'll come back, right? I'll still come back to visit you."
Marcus waited for that letter as if he were a child again, going through the mailbox of his humble home and opening it eagerly every day. The days passed very slowly, the weeks even slower, until finally his heart skipped a beat and he saw there was an envelope in the mailbox: it looked fancy, and the refined handwriting gave away who had written it. He opened the envelope. Marcus smiled. Until the smile faded at once.
"My dear Marcus,
I hope you're well. Sorry for taking so long to send you the letter. I hope we can still be friends, and I hope you understand, but many things have happened in the past few days, and because of that, I've decided not to go through with the divorce proceedings against my husband and give him another chance..."
The letter was long, but Marcus didn't read the rest. He didn't care. He tore the cursed letter and left it in the snow as he walked back into the house. He drank cheap wine until he couldn't think of anything else and until he tired of wiping the tears he pretended weren't streaming down his face.
He only saw Sejanus Plinth again four years later.
III
"Marcus?"
He recognized that voice. How could he not? It was the same voice of the laughter that haunted his nights, and the same voice that had called him beautiful, and the same voice that had moaned his name four years ago.
That's why Marcus didn't even turn his head. He gritted his teeth.
He was afraid of what he would do if he saw Sejanus's face again. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all for him to come back after four years, after what he had done, after... after appearing in advertisements plastered on posters and billboards throughout the district, and after mocking Marcus with that huge smile showing his dimples, one hand over his swollen baby bump, a cliché phrase about duty and family and loyalty to the Capitol just below his face. Marcus remembers passing by one of those billboards, sitting in front of it while drinking a whole bottle of wine, and throwing the bottle towards Sejanus's handsome face. He regretted it later for the wine he had wasted. And it hadn't solved anything. It hadn't made the pain go away.
Four years. Four years of nothing but pain and hangovers. Sejanus didn't even have the right to say his name. He had no right to look him in the face. That's why Marcus kept walking, without looking back, as if he hadn't heard. Maybe it was better to pretend it hadn't happened and continue his day. That's what Sejanus must have done in the last few years, right? Pretend nothing happened. Continue his life. Smile alongside the president and wear that golden ring on his finger as if nothing had happened. As if Marcus didn't exist.
"Marcus!"
He wasn't going to look back. He wasn't. He quickened his pace, walking even faster.
"Marcus! Please!"
He wasn't. He wasn't going to look at him. He wasn't going to look at Sejanus's face and remember four years ago and he wasn't going to remember all the advertisements of the past few months and he wasn't going to remember the ceremony he watched on television with him standing next to the same man who claimed to have hurt him so much. He wasn't. If Sejanus didn't respect himself, that was his problem, but Marcus still had a shred of dignity to preserve.
"Marcus!"
He felt a hand grab his shirt. He turned, ready to snarl, ready to tell Sejanus to go to hell and leave him alone, that he had no right to call Marcus, he had no right to talk to him, he had no right. But when he turned around, the words caught in his throat for a moment, and Marcus hesitated. He had thought about it, in case he met Sejanus again, what he could do, what he would say to him, but he had never imagined it would be like this.
He had never imagined he would be face to face with Sejanus, his tired eyes filled with tears as he held a baby in one arm.
He had never imagined he would see Sejanus so dead.
Sejanus. What he could call his for only one weekend, but he was his. He who was full of life, and whose dimples enhanced his smile, who had big expressive brown eyes. Sejanus. Who seemed alive, but dead inside, without any sparkle on his freckled face. Who wore a knitted vest over the button-up shirt with beautiful embroideries that must have cost more than Marcus earned in a year. Sejanus. Who months ago, was with a bright smile on all the billboards he saw in front of him, but whose sadness emanating from his expression was enough to suck the anger Marcus felt and infect him with a painful emptiness that he thought he had left behind.
"Please," Sejanus whispered, his voice weak, increasing the strength with which he held Marcus's shirt, "just... talk to me. Please, Marcus. I really need to talk to you."
He looked at the baby in Sejanus's arms. This baby seemed to be from the District. He would recognize those brown curls and brown skin anywhere. The baby cried, chubby little hands grabbing Sejanus's shirt, the chubby face twisted with strong cries and screams escaping from its mouth.
"You have a minute. A minute to say whatever you want to say."
Sejanus opened his mouth and closed it. The baby kept crying. Marcus wondered if he wasn't going to shake the child to try to calm it down. Sejanus, who held baby Julius so carefully and lovingly, seemed to hold this child almost as if it were an obligation. Sejanus closed his eyes. Maybe he didn't want to look at Marcus's annoyed expression. Maybe he was thinking about how he would use the one minute Marcus had given him. Some of the tears in his eyes began to trickle down his freckled cheeks as his lower lip trembled, as if he were holding back tears.
"His name," his voice was only a weak whisper, "is Marcus. Marcus Brutus Snow-Plinth."
His world collapsed. And Marcus hated himself, hated himself very much for what he did next. He took a deep breath. He sighed. He closed his eyes. He grabbed Sejanus's wrist and took his hand off Marcus's shirt.
"It's not good for you to stand carrying the baby. Let's find a place to sit."
In the park bench that was being renovated, the same park where they once ran hand in hand longer than they could remember, Sejanus kept his eyes fixed on the expensive shoes he was wearing. Marcus, on the other hand, continued to gaze at the sky, arms crossed. He tried not to think too much about the billboard just below his view, where President Snow stood just behind the photo of Sejanus sitting in a chair with his eldest son standing beside him and the newborn baby in his lap. Sejanus was smiling. What a depressing contrast to the Sejanus sitting beside him, struggling to wipe away the tears while rocking the crying baby in his arms, whispering and pleading for the child to stop crying.
The child. The child named Marcus. Just like him. His very name.
Sejanus had no right. He had no right to break his heart and then give his name to the baby he had with another man. But Marcus needed to understand. He needed to know why. At least that to stop the endless questions that haunted his mind as he emptied bottle after bottle of alcohol.
"Sorry," Sejanus murmured with a choked voice after a while of silence. "I'm sorry, Marcus. Please. I'm sorry."
Marcus didn't forgive him. Not after what he had done. Not after receiving letter after letter and tearing each one of them apart, not caring to even open to know the content, and not after the letters stopped coming after a few months.
“I thought at the time it was the right choice,” his voice barely audible. “I... he's the father of my son. And he... I didn't think he could go on without me.”
Marcus couldn't go on without Sejanus either. And yet, he left him behind. What made Coriolanus Snow special? What made Sejanus think he had the right to give him these empty justifications? His forehead furrowed slightly, but he said nothing. He didn't care about whatever Sejanus had to say. There was only one thing he needed to know, the only reason he had agreed to be sitting on the park bench now:
“Why did you give my name to your son?”
The baby, little Marcus, wouldn't stop crying. Sejanus mechanically rocked him in his arms. There was something in that scene that made Marcus feel that there was something strange. Something that didn't fit. Something that told him that this Sejanus wasn't the same one he knew. There were still tears streaming down Sejanus's face. Marcus had to fight the urge to wipe his face. He hated seeing Sejanus cry, but he hated even more what Sejanus had done to him, the promises he threw away, the broken heart he left behind before returning to his large, comfortable home in the Capitol.
“I needed something to remind me that he's still mine,” was Sejanus's murmured answer. “That he's still my baby. My baby, mine to love and care for. Not his. Never his.”
Marcus furrowed his brow. What the hell did that mean? He turned to the side, ready to open his mouth and ask, but he saw Sejanus's look, the empty and dead look, the eyes filled with tears. He saw how he held that baby so differently from how he held the first one years ago. He remembered all the billboards he shouted at when he was too drunk, remembered Sejanus's plastic smile, remembered the shiver that ran down his spine, and remembered believing that it was only the disgust he felt at seeing Sejanus smiling at him that way, almost as if he were mocking his suffering, but stopping to think now... No. It couldn't be, could it? There was no way Sejanus...
“I didn't tell anyone,” Sejanus whispered, and a sob shook his body as he seemed unable to muster the courage to look Marcus in the eyes. “No one besides my sister-in-law. Not even my Ma. But he... he wanted so much to have another baby. But my first pregnancy was horrible, and I didn't want to go through that again, I didn't want to... and then he took my birth control pills... I didn't have sex with him for weeks, I didn't want to give him that victory, but one day we were both very drunk after a party, and then...” another sob shook his body, “and then...”
“Oh, Sejanus.”
Sejanus didn't try to hide anymore that he was crying. His tears mingled with the baby's in his arms as Marcus wrapped his arms around him, hugging him, trying to comfort him while a deep sadness took hold of himself. He ran his hand over Sejanus's arm, murmuring how sorry he felt, trying to forget how much his own heart was shattered, now more than ever.
“Shh,” he tried to murmur to him, kissing the top of his head. “It's okay now. It's okay. I'm here.”
“I don't want to hate my baby,” Sejanus cried and seemed to hold the child tighter in his arms. “I can't hate him. So maybe... maybe if he has your name... I'll remember how much I love him. How precious he is. Just like you.”
Sejanus continued to cry in that way, mumbling choked apologies amid sobs, burying his face in Marcus's chest. His shirt would surely be soaked with tears after this.
“Leave him,” he spoke without thinking much, pulling away to hold Sejanus's face in his hands, looking at him with a distressed expression. “Come back to District 2. If you don't want to stay with your aunt, you can stay with me. Bring your boys. I don't have much to offer, Sejanus, but please. Don't do this to yourself. Don't go back. Please, Sejanus.”
Marcus knew the answer. He already knew what he would say because in the end, it was an option he had already presented, and that Sejanus didn't choose. As much as he wasn't surprised, he felt his heart break once again when Sejanus's lips moved to speak:
“I can't. I really can't, Marcus. I'm sorry. Please, forgive me.”
He ran his thumb over Sejanus's freckled face, swollen from crying as he continued to whisper over and over that he was sorry. Marcus wondered how someone could hurt him so much. How someone was lucky enough to have Sejanus by their side and yet hurt him like this. He brushed the curls falling on his forehead and kissed it.
“Let me take you to the train station, then.”
He accompanied Sejanus to his aunt's house. He helped him with the suitcases, as he had done every other time. They didn't talk as they walked down the street. Sejanus still sniffled a little, although the tears had dried from his face. They finally stopped at the station, where the train wouldn't take long to leave. Marcus turned to Sejanus, who stared at the train with an empty look, the baby in his arms having stopped crying to look at Marcus with big, brown eyes. Marcus put his hands on his knees, getting to the child's eye level.
“Hey, mini Marcus,” he whispered as if it were a secret; he reached out for the baby to hold his finger, and he laughed as he held Marcus's finger with his chubby little hands. “Promise me you'll be good and take care of your Pa for me, okay?”
Sejanus laughed, gently rocking the baby in his arms. Marcus couldn't help but smile at his laughter. He hadn't even seen Sejanus smile. He missed those dimples, as much as the memory of them hurt him too. He straightened up to look Sejanus in the eyes, the big, brown, dead eyes. Empty eyes. What did they do to Sejanus, to his Sejanus, in that city? He held his face and had to fight the urge to kiss him on the lips. It wasn't his place to do that. That's why he settled for a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Take care. Please.”
Sejanus forced a smile. Nodded. He boarded the train, and Marcus watched from afar. He saw Sejanus sit in a seat near the window and saw that he realized Marcus was watching him. Sejanus forced another painful smile and held one of the baby's little hands, baby Marcus's hand, to wave at him. Marcus couldn't help but let out a painful laugh as he waved back. He hadn't realized until now that tears were streaming down his face. He didn't bother trying to disguise or wipe them away. It was no use pretending he hated him anymore. The truth was single and painful: Sejanus was Marcus's love of life, but also the loss of his life. He hoped Sejanus had understood the sound his lips moved to produce:
"I love you."
He never saw Sejanus Plinth again. He wished he could have kissed him one last time if he had known that.