Marcus Ramsay. Bartender.

Leon shook his head when he was asked if his fellow coworkers did anything to him. Apart from the mayor saying that if the former teacher didn’t do his job, Marcus would get shot and killed publicly — there wasn’t much that was done to him.

When he saw that Marcus was trying to tear the IV out, he quickly grabbed the hand attempting. “Don’t do that,” he ordered, before letting go of the hand. He probably grabbed too tight. Shit. The nerves were getting to him — he almost didn’t know how to function anymore. This wasn’t something that he wanted to ever go through, to have Marcus ever go through, but here they were.

----

“Lets go home, then,” Leon replied, sending a glance to the Mayor. He tried his best not to look as hateful and full of rage as he was in that moment, but it was just as hard as he thought it was going to be. If anyone was going to be able to kill the mayor, Leon wanted to be the one to do it.

Leon allowed Marcus to wipe the blood from under his nose, as he sniffled. God, this was awful. He felt how cold Marcus’s hand was, he saw how he trembled. Would they of been in the same place if Leon didn’t join the mayor? Would it even of been worse?

He noticed another employee coming forward, reaching out to tear the gun from Marcus’s hand. Leon was worried about what could possibly happen — it only took one shot to get them both killed, if Marcus tried to open fire on the other employees. They were outnumbered.

But then an unfamiliar hand closed over the gun roughly and tried to yank it away. It was a reflex mostly, but marcus couldn't help himself from yanking it back. He couldn't let go of the gun even though he desperately wanted to leave it behind. But it has fused with him, and it put down roots into his veins and his soul. Yet, he made no move to harm the employees. He didn't want to kill anymore people today.

The employees reached in again with both hands and yanked again and again until he was successful, almost breaking Marc's fingers in the process. But Marc hardly reacted, flinchin on the outside and leaning into Leon, his hand burning and mourning what it came to know as an extension of itself.

Without getting the ability to just up and leave, Leon looked to his fellow coworkers. He almost didn’t register the fact that there was a strong fist coming to impact with his face, barely catching himself before he just knocked onto his ass. His nose started to bleed nearly instantly, causing the former teacher to feel like he was drowning.

They shoved him in the direction of Marcus, knowing that there must have been something going on between the two. It frustrated Leon to know that years of work of hiding his sexuality was completely thrown out the window with someone just snitching on him.

Marcus holding a gun. Begging the Mayor not to make him do something. The hell was going on?

        “You’ll kill this man here, or we shoot Burne. It’s simple,” Mayor Penbrooke explained, glancing down at the gun in Marcus’s hand before looking back up to him. Leon was shoved out from behind the employees, shown to the bartender that the threat was very real. A gun was pressed against Leon’s temple, as his hands were tied tightly behind his back. There was no way that he had the strength to break out of the employee’s grip — this was all on Marcus.

        “There has to be a punishment somewhere. Burne here broke the rules. Kept a person in his home that he shouldn’t have. Fed him, hid him for weeks. Something that we could easily kill him for. Now this other man, left without tipping Ric at the bar. I’m sure you know that that’s a big no-no.”

He didn’t want to die.

He didn’t want to, but maybe he deserved to. He was on the bad side, he was a villain, and he let them throw Marcus out on the streets when it was beyond freezing. Leon could tell how the night took it’s toll on the thin man, and it made him feel worse every time he glanced at the man he loved. He barely kept eye contact with Marcus, trying to keep the pang of guilt away in doing so.

It didn’t work.

The gun handle burned a hole in his frozen palm, reminding Marcus of the terrible act he was about to commit. His eyes were on Leon, sad, vulnerable, full of regret. He'd wished he'd died last night. He'd wished he'd died in the fire. Then Leon wouldn't be in such a dangerous position. 

Burning tears bubbled up like lava and flowed down his cheeks, and he was quick to turn away. He looked at the old man, and the old man looked back at him. Eyes wide with fear and apology. "Please don't do this," the man begged, shaking. "I'm sorry for all the things I said to you, Ramsay. You know that! Please..."

Marcus bit his lip, and his grip on the gun tightened. He knew this man didn't deserve this. But he couldn't live knowing he was responsible for Leon's death. He loved him. "I know...I'm sorry." He looked over to Leon again, and the man looked over, then back at Marcus, and he looked down in resignation. For a moment, Marcus thought the man understood. But he couldn't be sure. 

"I'm sorry," he repeated and lifted the gun to the man's forehead. 

"I know," the old man replied. 

Bang!

The shot rang out through the town, and for a moment, a split moment, it felt like it wasn't Marcus who pulled the trigger. Someone else did. Another part of him perhaps that suddenly emerged from the darkest corner of his soul. It was only when he felt the blood splatter on his face that he recognized what he did.

The old man, his face unrecognizable from the blast and blood, crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap.

Leon knew that the other employee was keeping an eye on him, but didn’t give in completely to him. He started to follow Marcus to the door to try to give some sign of that he was going to try to fix this, but the other employee stopped him before he got too close. Right, he was going to be reprimanded. Helping out the needy wasn’t something that his role was supposed to do.

        “I’ll find a fix, Ramsay!” the former teacher called out, before glaring at the employee that beat him. God, he wanted to just strangle him right there. If it was too cold, there would be no way that Marcus could survive that night. If he lost Marcus, Leon knew who he was going after first. Who cared if the mayor ended up executing afterwards? There was no point in being at Pleasant Town — or anywhere, for that matter, in this kind of world — when he didn’t have anyone that he cared about alive anymore. Sure, Lana was a friend. But their paths didn’t cross nearly as much.

---

As the night drew on, it became clear that Leon wasn't going to find a fix for him. He was freezing, and he was having difficulty getting around and evading the lone zombies that occasionally made their way into town at night. As the hours came and went, the cold set in more and more, and he could feel hypothermia coming upon him, freezing his core and making it difficult for him to progress. He had to do something. He wasn't going to let himself die. So, he did skmething desperate, something he hoped he would never have to do. He treked to the mayor's house in the early morning, before the sun even rose and banged on the door, demanding to be seen.

And that was that. All it took was a little begging, paperwork, and a deal . Marc was suspiscious of what this might be. But, he alreayd sold his soul, and he had to pay the fine.

And here he was, an hour later in the middle of town, his clothes and shoes damp from the morning dew, his skin pale and lips blue. He shook and trembled, his teeth chattering, his heart broken, and his soul dangling by a thread. He was exhausted, and he felt he was fighting off death with a twig. This was all he needed to do. Perform this task as initiation in front of the other employees and he could get medical attention, food, and a cushy lifestyle. This was all he had to do.

A man was dragged in front of him, an older man he would often serve drinks to. One who isulted him constantly for his sexuality, but liked Marcus nonetheless. His hands were tied behind his back and he was forced onto his knees, looking terrified and confused. It was clear to Marcus this man did not know why he was here. But when a pistol was placed in Marcus' hand, it was clear what his role in all of this would be. He was an executioner.

When Marcus was beaten even more, Leon knew he had to do something. If he attacked the employees again, then there would be no way that he could help out Marcus. Leon balled his fists up, hoping to hold back from just launching a punch at that asshole’s face. He needed to stay under control, otherwise he couldn’t do anything for Marcus.

He let them force him upstairs and towards the front door where their shoes were collected. He slipped both feet into his worn, ash-covered Vans and lingered there, hoping to catch one last look or comment from Leon before he went to his death.

He looked down to Marcus, wanting to just pull him up and hold him. But there was no way that he could get away with it. Not now. Not when there were so many employees there.

"You don't need to know who ratted you out, and it doesn't matter if he's not using your resources. He broke the rules, and that can't be tolerated. How terrible would it be if everyone started doing whatever they wanted because of one bad example?" The employee asked, motioning for them to take Marcus upstairs. "He will not stay with the rest of them. He will have to live outside from now on."

Hearing the screaming and the thud of someone falling down, Leon finally bolted down. Screw it if he was dooming himself to some awful punishment — Marcus needed his help. The sight of Marcus being kicked disgusted him, and horrified the former teacher. Why did they think that this was even close to being okay? Marcus didn’t deserve any of this — all he was doing was surviving.

"He violated our rules. Everyone from the apartment that burned is supposed to be living at the school gym. You know that as well as I do," the employee explained coldly. "He is taking more resources than should be allowed anyone of his class, and that is unfair to the rest of the community. Lower class citizens are not to board with employees, especially not filth like him."

Marcus watched Leon carefully, shaking from the pain and terribly afraid of what was going to happen to him next. He wanted to say something, but he knew anything he had to say was going to be ignored. 

Let’s check down here. I’d hide down here if I were him. When Leon heard those words, he was sure that his heart just stopped. Before, it was just a hunch that they were looking for Marcus. With the mention of ‘him’, that’s when it was confirmed. This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good. The two of them were surviving. Why did that have to be ruined? 

He was yanked up to his feet and held there tightly. "Lemme go!" He screeched, writhing against the grip of the man before his mouth was covered. He elbowed his gut over and over, but it wasn't enough. So, he bit down hard on the man's palm, teeth breaching skin, and blood rushing into his mouth. The man screamed and let go, cursing loudly.

Leon was confused to why he’d be hearing any cars outside. Usually there were warnings before he had someone show up to his door — Sofia always made sure to walkie him before showing up, avoiding a repeat of shoving Marcus into the closet weeks before. 

As much as he wanted to continue cooking, the former teacher just started to stress himself. This was supposed to be a good dinner. He was supposed to have a night with Marcus, something romantic, without the threat of the mayor or any of the other employees causing chaos. 

Hearing the slam on his door, Leon knew that things were definitely not going to go the way he wanted. He quickly kissed Marcus on the lips, turning off the stove.

        ”Be right back.”

All he needed to do was walk to the door, act normal while politely turning them away, and then his co-workers would be on their way. In theory. 

Assuming that Marcus was going to at least stay out of view, Leon walked over to the door to open. Before he could even say hello, however, he was slammed out of the way. It didn’t take him long to realize that they weren’t here for him. Someone must of said something about Marcus being there. Shit.

Leon turned his head back to the man who wrapped his arms around him, smirking. “I’m attempting something that can go along with some chicken,” he answered, looking down at the food that he was cooking on the stove. The chicken was in boiling water, there were assorted vegetables looking burned with a terrible attempt at seasoning in another pan. Hell, Leon wouldn’t of dared to go near any of that if real food wasn’t so hard to come by recently. At least the meat was fresh enough.