#engineer marcus

Being head engineer on such a massive spaceship has been putting some serious strain on Marcus’ body, and it’s been hard for him to stay caught up on his sleep. You’d think that with the endless night sky he’d find it easy to sleep, but unfortunately that’s just not the case. His “nights” have been spent holed up in the workshop trying to piece together some equipment for the other members of the crew.

Due to these nights of inconsistent sleep, despite the fact that “night” is simply a simulation to keep everyone on a schedule, he has decidedly put a hammock under his workbench, just to lay down for a bit if he finds himself getting a little bit too tired to continue working with hazardous equipment. Today happened to be one of those times, so he climbs underneath and gets himself settled in. He’s stopped bothering with turning off the lights or putting a sign on the door to signify he’s sleeping. If he wakes up, oh well.

Somehow, he manages to get some actually restful sleep. He moves his arm to check his data pad, but finds it pinned down underneath something. His eyes peer open, and he sees you on top of him, deep in your own sleep. He freezes, before carefully worming his arm out from underneath you. Marcus considers getting up, but his full body fatigue and mental exhaustion makes a rather compelling argument to stay. So he wraps his arms around you, and uses his foot to push the hammock until it’s gently rocking the two of you.

Marcus figures that you too have been struggling with your sleep, and came looking for him. He’s just glad that he was a good enough excuse for you to take a nap. His heart melts when you just settle right in, cuddling up to him with a sigh. 

Looking out into space, the stars shift and move as the ship shoots past them, seeming slow only to those of you within its walls. The massive window on the main deck overlooks the planets and moon in the distance, and you catch yourself sipping your coffee as you admire the way their interstellar colors are like nothing you’ve ever seen back on Earth. It’s breathtaking, in a way.

Marcus stumbles out onto the main deck, stiffening when he sees you, visibly stressed. Something with the way his shoulders are tense, his knees locked, holding one hand behind his back.

“Marcus? Are you alright?”

“Uh- Captain! Funny seeing you here! Uh, yeah! Totally fine! See you around-”

“Marcus, get back here.”

He stops midstep, turning to face you, still keeping his hand hidden from your view. As you step towards him, you set your coffee cup down on the center console, reaching for his hand to hold.

“What’s going on? Why are you hiding your hand from me?”

His gaze doesn’t meet your eye, chewing the inside of his cheek as his head is bowed low. You duck to look him in the eye, connecting for a moment before he sighs. He pulls his hand out from behind his back, covered in fur and long claws protruding from the tips of his fingers.

“I started… shifting. Out here. I thought I’d be safe out here in the stars, but apparently werewolf curses don’t care if it’s your original moon or not. I was hoping to catch Celci, that she could ice me until we’re past the moons. I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially not you…”

You reach up to cup his face, which he leans into with a soft sigh. Small scritches under his jaw, calming the anxieties you know are building up inside him. If there’s anything you’ve learned from your adventures through the warpcore wormholes with him, is that letting him know you’re not afraid of him will do him more good than whatever scheme his brain tries to convince him is the correct course of action.

“That big brain of yours is being loud again? With the thoughts?”

“Yeah…”

“Was there a timeline where you hurt me? In your wolf form?” “Well- no-”

“And yet you’ve been feeling guilty over things that were far less likely to happen in our timeline, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“No but’s, you will not hurt me, Marcus. Even if you don’t trust yourself, I trust you. Because I know that you’d rather let your anxiety eat you up inside before asking for my help because you think my involvement may put me at risk.”

“...I hate it when you’re right.”

“You’re my moon and stars, Marsbar. I should hope I’m right. Here, because I’m assuming being in here is not helping, let’s go to my quarters, get you comfortable, and we’ll figure out what to do, alright?”

“Yeah… yeah I’d like that.”

He takes your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your palm as he reaches for your coffee, intent on carrying it for you. He squeezes your hand a bit tighter, head on more of a swivel as he tries to anticipate any people that you may interact with.

“Breathe, Mars. It’s okay. Everything is alright. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do. I just wish I trusted myself. I-”

He nearly drops your coffee mug, swooning off to the side like the two of you are on a rocking boat. You catch your coffee, squeezing his hand tight as he holds his head, fur visibly growing on his skin.

“C’mon, we’re almost there. Just a few more steps, out of the sight of others.”

You nearly have to drag him into the room, using your captainly strong muscles to pull him in before locking the room. He crumples onto the floor, holding his head as his form strains against his coveralls, slowly tearing them at the seams and revealing soft auburn hair with stark white patches beneath. You rub his back as his shifting continues, just assuring him and reminding him that you’re here with him.

“That’s it, it’s okay. Here- the bed will be far more comfortable.”

You pick up his torn clothes as he hops up onto your bed, circling a few times with a whine, covering his face with his paws. All you can think to do is sit with him, letting him wrap himself around you as you rub his snoot. He rests his head in your lap, softly whining, barely audible at all.

Marcus squeezes your hand as you walk down the boulevard, looking into all the shops, doing a bit of window shopping. The smell of bread fills your nose, bringing your attention to a bakery down the way. He watches your gaze, smiling as he sees where your attention has gone.

“Hungry now, sunshine?”

You roll your eyes as he giggles, walking the two of you into the bakery as he holds the door open. The combined scents of cinnamon, sugar, and chocolate waft over you as you enter, a breath of warmth and comfort. Your eyes scan the baskets that hang on the shelves displaying the goods. A display case on the counter catches your attention, surprising you with the sheer amount of cookies, muffins, and baking squares. 

“If you think I’m walking out of here without a cookie, you’d be dead wrong.”

“Marcus, I’d be shocked if we manage to walk out of here with less than two dozen shoved into your pockets alone.”

He kisses your cheek, looking a little sheepish that you know him so well. You look over the baked goods, mulling over the selection that you’re wanting to make. Part of you want to make sure you’re not walking out with the entire bakery in your bags, but also, you did not jump through wormhole after wormhole to deny yourself a brownie. 

“Hello! How can I help you folks?”

Marcus walks up to the counter for the two of you, trailing his hand behind him as he tries to hold onto you for as long as he can.

“Oh we’re just looking for now, but I was wondering if you guys have any beverages to go with?”

“We have coffee? We can do some simple drinks but not too many modifications.”

“Just a couple black coffees would be amazing, is it alright that we take a bit longer to browse?”

“Perfectly fine! I’ll get those right out for the two of you.”

Marcus moves back into your orbit, wrapping his arms around you. Your hands reach up to gently touch his arms, chuckling quietly at his public affections.

“Couldn’t be away from me for too long, could you? Not even coffee can keep my sunspot away.”

“Nothing could keep me away, not after everything we did together.”

He looks down at your rings, smiling to himself. He had designed them himself, taking inspiration from the space where the two of you had met, making sure the gems shine as bright as stars. 

“Are you just going to get cookies? Or are you willing to try something else?”

“I’m open to other options, as long as I can also get my cookies.”

“You are ridiculous.”

Marcus just grins, rather proud of his minor shenanigans. The cashier returns with your coffees, and he brings yours to you.

“Captain needs their coffee, so says their engineer.”

“What would I ever do without you?”

“Have to get your own coffee? Imagine, the horrors.”

“Truly, horrors beyond my imagination.”

You decide on what you want, which Marcus pulls down for you and places on the counter. He orders his cookies, along with a brownie. You’re not sure if it’s much of a leap from his usual favorite, but it is something different, so you can give him that. You barely manage to pay for it before he starts eating one, and his face says it all. His eyes are wide as he inspects the cookie, chewing slowly.

“What sorcery did you put in this?”

“Excuse me?”

“These are some of the best cookies I’ve ever had! What god did you have to appease to get the recipe?”

“Uh… my grandmother?”

“...yeah, she counts if she came up with this.”

After searching around the ship, you’re finally able to find Marcus, who is asleep in his room. He has crashed on his floor, curled up on a massive teddy bear you’re sure is made from old torn coveralls that no one was using. The stitching is sloppy and there’s a few broken seams, but there’s a certain handmade charming quality to it that truly adds to the scene before you. 

You crouch down, pressing a kiss to his head as you sit down next to him, pushing his hair out of his face. He’s out cold, but keeps his arms wrapped tightly around the massive teddy bear. You hear him mutter a few things under his breath in his sleep, but nothing you can make out all that clearly. But your name slips out as he hugs it tighter, and your heart can’t do anything but melt as you know he’s dreaming about you.

After going through your options in your head, you decide to try to pry his arms off the stuffie so you can potentially squeeze in and give the man what he wants. He’s rather strong, so it’s fairly difficult to do so without waking him up, but you manage. You slip underneath him, on top of the teddy bear, and chuckle quietly to yourself as he then resumes his cuddling with you instead. There’s something familiar about it, like you’ve done it a million times even if it feels like it hasn’t been long since the two of you started dating. 

But it’s the way he slots himself against you, laying his ear against your chest and listens to your heart beat. Like he’s your personal mechanic, making sure your heart is protected and secure. His whole job revolves around maintaining the steady beating of the core of the ship, it surely can’t be all that different when it comes to you, right?

Your arms slide down his back until they fall into a resting position that’s most comfortable to you, that’s the most familiar. Marcus snuggles right back in again and you can’t help but feel like he’s turned himself into a bit of a teddy bear himself. Perhaps it’s his weight that provides grounding to you, or his steady breathing and slight squish of his dense muscles when you squeeze him affectionately. Any way you look at it, it feels right, perfect even.

You check your phone repeatedly, comparing the text you got to the sign hanging above the door with the coffee shop name in a winding script. With a deep breath, you gather up the courage to head inside, waiting nervously for your date to arrive. Off in a corner where you can see the door easily, you sit down and begin scrolling on your phone, not wanting to order coffee before he gets here so it doesn’t get cold, or you have to order a second one for it not to seem weird that he’s the only one with a drink. The shop is moderately busy, and the sound of the coffee grinder and chatter helps drown out anxious thoughts about this date.

A man comes running from around the corner and makes a sharp turn into the coffee shop, nearly running into the glass door. He struggles with pushing it, before slowly pulling on it to open. His cheeks flush as he shakes his head, minorly embarrassed. Out of his jeans pocket he pulls out his phone, typing on it before looking around the shop again. A ping on your phone goes off, and you realize he’s your date. The franticness is now even more endearing, and you stand up from your seat to wave at him. His face brightens as he walks over to greet you, sitting across from you at your table against the wall.

“Hey! Sorry, I was so worried I was gonna be late. The guys kept trying to keep me at the shop for longer but I managed to slip out when someone knocked over a can of grease.”

“Oh, do you work in a mechanical shop of some kind?”

“Yeah, I used to be an aircraft engineer but I decided to quit that job and join a mechanic shop when my employer started insisting we be a little more lax on our repairs. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be in a plane that I knew for certain was built and repaired properly.”

“No kidding. Do you want to order? I’m sure you’re a bit tired from running here.”

“Oh no, I took my truck. I more just wanted to make sure I didn’t keep you too long. But yeah, I’m down for some coffee.”

The two of you get in line and keep chatting, and you begin to realize how quickly you’re hitting it off.

“I’m Marcus Voyage, by the way. Wait- you’d know that from my profile. Oops.”

He facepalms as you laugh a little, setting a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it too much, I was nervous meeting you too. But so far, you seem like a great guy.”

“Well I hope that continues, I’ve been told being a little dumb is only a good quality if you’re also a decent human being.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re a “little dumb” if you were an aircraft engineer, but maybe that’s just me.”

The two of you order, and Marcus insists on paying for the two of you. With your coffee and breakfast ordered, you return to your table. What you didn’t know, is that you happened to find a date who has a special interest in coffee.

“Did you know that americanos and lattes are made nearly the same way, just one is with water and the other with milk? And yet people get weird about americanos learning about that. It’s not like you’re taking black coffee and watering it down, but espresso shots. I knew one guy back in college that would go and get his “black death” drink every morning. Eight shot americano, and a bag of chocolate covered coffee beans. I legitimately don’t know how he’s still alive today.”

You look something up on your phone, eyes widening.

“That’s over five hundred milligrams, not even counting the coffee beans. Holy shit.”

“I know! And it’s not recommended you consume over four hundred! And he drank that every day for six years!”

“I’d be shocked if he doesn’t have heart problems now.”

“No kidding.”

Your names are called and Marcus gathers your drinks and breakfast, returning with a smile. You nod in thanks, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Sorry, wasn’t planning on rambling about stuff until the second date…”

“No please, keep going. I’m glad you have interests, just be prepared for me to have my turn rambling.”

Your engineer seems to have been acting differently since you took off into space, noticing little quirks that you hadn’t really noticed before. As his captain and his partner, you are concerned that he may be sick or dealing with something, and just doesn’t want to tell you. You manage to catch him on his way out from the warpcore, stopping him to talk.

“Marcus, are you okay? You’ve been acting, strange…”

His eyes open wide, looking like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Uh, no captain. Everything’s fine with me!”

Marcus tries to push past you through the corridor, just to be met with you blocking his exit once again. Your gloved hands push back gently on his chest, making him look you in the eyes.

“Marcus, I’m here for you. You don’t need to hide things from me. If you’re dealing with something, I want to help. Anything I can do, anything at all, as your partner or your captain.”

He looks at you, melancholic and tired. His head shakes slowly, now fully pushing past you.

“Like I said, I’m alright. Nothing to be worried about. You just worry about your own captain duties.” 

You watch him disappear around the corner, brow furrowed and arms crossed. He’s hiding something for you, and you’re determined to figure out what it is. He’s been hesitant to share his struggles with you since the warpcore incident, and it’s been difficult trying to get him to see the therapist on board to help him work through the traumatic memories. All you’ve been able to do is wake him up from his nightmares, and hold him as he cries.

You follow behind him slowly, watching where he goes, in hopes that you’ll be able to gather more information. Marcus ducks into the engineer’s workshop, somewhere you know he only goes if he is wanting to get out large amounts of stress. Something about working tirelessly with your hands helps get out the building anxiety that’s inside of you. Unfortunately for him, all it does is confirm that something is up with him. 

You peer into the workshop, and spot him running his hand through his hair. Except, something is very different about him. His skin is grey, with black rams horns curling around his ears. White splotches cover his skin with small black freckles contrasting. All you can do is stare, fascinated as to how he’s been able to hide this from you. He holds a crystal in his hand, looking like a shard of the warp crystal. But that’s impossible, since the crystal is in the warpcore.

“Marcus…?”

He startles, nearly throwing the crystal at you before he manages to stop himself. His eyes are a dark blue with white pupils, staring deep into you.

“Is this what you were hiding?”

Marcus opens his mouth to speak, closing it several times before he scrubs his face, collapsing into the chair behind him.

“I’m not, your Marcus. When he came into my timeline, he… I managed to preserve his consciousness on this, and I got all of his memories. I promised him that I’d look out for you. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Your heart aches, just looking at him in shock. It was all lies, but also, he’s still your Marcus. And he still loved you enough to not want to hurt you with the truth. You walk up to him, holding his face and kissing his forehead.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re not technically “my” Marcus. I decide who my Marcus is, and that’s you. And you don’t need to hide your true self, not from me. You’re a handsome man either way.”

Marcus looks at you, wiping his tears on the back of his hand as he looks back at you. 

Marcus was always a restless sleeper, until the two of you started sharing a bed. After the events of the wormholes, the nightmares got too much for him to handle, and he kept knocking on your door in the middle of the night to see if you were okay. He’d fall asleep on your floor as you calmed him down, and eventually convinced him it’s okay to sleep on your bunk with you. It took a bit, but the engineer that once regularly fell off of his bunk held onto you tightly through the night, ensuring that you were still there.

As the captain, you were oftentimes awake before the rest of the crew, getting ready for the day and the morning briefing. But with your new sleeping arrangements, it certainly makes things a little cuter, but also a little more difficult. He built you a bedside coffee machine so you could enjoy your morning coffee if he traps you on the bed, as he would never willingly deprive you of your morning nectar. But you began to enjoy your mornings, realizing you really didn’t need to get up as early as you originally did. Your internal clock hasn’t gotten the memo yet, but it’s those morning cuddles that you look forward to every day as your coffee brews. 

His head is rested against your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair, certainly longer and fluffier than it was in comparison to when you first began your journey. He tried to cut it and you just about pulled the clippers out of his hand, ruffling his hair and telling him how much you enjoyed it, that it looked better on him longer. So he’s been growing it out, and your statement still holds true.

He sleeps in one of his sleeveless turtlenecks, black ones for nighttime wear, and sweatshorts, which Celci considers an abomination against god. An improper commitment to both shorts, and sweatpants. He considers it the best of both worlds, and you secretly agree, as to not show more favor than you probably already do. He makes the softest of snores, still gently leaning into your hand as you give him slow head scritches.