#dark bertl

Bertholdt rested his head against his arm that was bent over his desk, wrapped within his other arm was a half empty bottle of Van Gogh Blue vodka. It was late, Bertholdt had been sending out e-mails with orders and shuffling information around, things he usually did with a certain freckled partner by his side... But that was the predicament here, his freckled partner-in-crime (literally) was currently recovering from an accident that happened on their last field operation, an accident that could have, and should have, been avoided. 

Marco had regained consciousness a few days ago, he knew their bodyguards, Jean and Reiner, had been to see him, and been very attentive, but Bertholdt... He couldn’t look at his freckled partner like that, bandages wrapped around his head and body, burns, at least two bullet wounds. 

Needless to say, the big, tough boss was having a hard time handling the guilt that he put his partner into a position like that, and found himself in the office quite a few nights lately, blaming himself. He was lucky that he was able to demand to be left alone “because he had to do Marco’s work too” for a while, only letting Reiner and Jean in to make deliveries or give him updates on their partner and lover.