Chapter Text
It’s been just over three months since Marco had last heard from his husband. It had been just about three days since he’d last seen his son. He tried to keep in contact with the other parents, but Rebecca had stopped answering his calls after muttering something about bugs, Cassandra was dating the man who killed someone in his entryway, and Veronica seemed just as confused and miserable as he was, and he could only tell her he didn’t have any news so many times before their anxieties just started building off of each other. It wasn’t safe to go outside between the armed agents patrolling the streets and the Mayor’s increasingly violent supporters. Marco was fairly certain he was developing new mental illnesses in the isolation. When his phone rings, he just about jumps out of his skin.
It’s a call from an unknown number, which Marco would usually ignore, but he figures if someone in the San Dimas area code is trying to scam him now, they deserve to be heard out at least.
He answers the call.
“Marco?”
For a moment, Marco is fairly certain his heart stops beating. Despite how exhausted he sounds, despite how long it’s been since Marco last heard from him, he would recognize Grant’s voice anywhere.
At a loss for words, Marco just sobs softly into the receiver, clutching at the phone with enough desperation that his joints begin to ache.
“Marco!?” Grant says, increasingly desperate.
“Grant,” he manages to choke out.
Grant lets out a shaky sigh, and Marco can picture the way his shoulders slump with relief.
“Hey, honey…” Grant says after a long moment of the two of them just soaking in each other’s presence.
“Hey,” Marco breathes. “What-“ he breathes out a baffled little laugh, wet with the tears still slicking his cheeks. “What the fuck is going on?”
Grant doesn’t laugh, just heaves in a deep breath.
“I don’t… I don’t know,” he says, sounding defeated, hopeless. Marco feels much the same way.
“When are you coming home?” Marco pleads. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” Grant sighs, “but it’s not… I can’t come home. I don’t know what he’s fucking planning but I know that I can’t risk you getting involved.”
“What who’s planning?”
“It doesn’t matter. The less you know the better. Just stay there, and I’ll-“
“Grant,” Marco says, firmly and only a bit desperately. “I’ve been ‘staying here’ for three months. I let our son convince me he was on a school trip that I just forgot about, and my memory might be bad but it’s not that bad. I watched a man get killed in the entryway of my home and nobody seemed to care. The next morning I woke up and our son was gone and I- I’ve just been here, waiting for things to get better.” He laughs derisively. “I’m tired of waiting. Things aren’t getting better.”
Grant is quiet for a long moment, shaky breaths audible over the phone.
“I- I know. Listen, Link is- he’s ok. I mean, he- I saw him earlier, he was doing bad, obviously, but he’s alive.” He pauses, and then, under his breath, “he was alive.”
Marco lets out a sob, half relief and half agony.
“What… Grant, please, just talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I can’t. You wouldn’t get it, I promise I’ll fix this-“
“Stop,” Marco demands. “I know that you know how much your secrets have hurt Link.”
Grant takes in a sharp breath, and Marco winces. He knows he’s hitting where it hurts, but it needs to be said.
“But I also know that you would never keep things from us if you didn’t think it was for the best, and I respect your privacy, but I can’t- the world is tearing itself apart and I don’t want it to tear us apart too. I need you to talk to me.”
“Marco, you don’t understand-“
“I want to understand! I can’t- I can’t fucking take this anymore, Grant!” Marco shouts. “I love you, more than anything, but you’ve been keeping things from me for so long, I know I’m not that smart but it’s not like I could miss this shit!”
Grant is silent for a long moment, beyond the shaky breaths audible over the phone.
“You don’t… Marco, you can’t love me,” he says, sounding entirely genuine despite the way his voice is still trembling.
“Excuse me?” Marco says incredulously, so entirely taken off guard that he forgets all about crying.
“I mean- I know you think you do, or- you love the Grant you know, but I- I’m not him, not really,” Grant says shakily. “You’re right, I don’t- I’ve been keeping so much from you, you can’t love me.”
“Then tell me the fucking truth and let me make that decision for myself!” Marco shouts, barely resisting the urge to hang up to emphasize his point, considering how counterproductive that would be. He takes in a steadying breath, and says as smoothly as possible, “Tell me where you are. We’re having this conversation in person.”
“No!” Grant says as Marco heads towards the bathroom to grab the first aid kit out from under the sink. “It’s too- it’s too dangerous, you can’t.”
“Then you have half an hour to come here.” Marco says, pausing as he opens the cabinet.
He glances up to look at himself in the mirror, his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles beneath them. He looks like a complete mess, but figures it’s ok because he certainly feels like one too.
“I can’t,” Grant says, sounding pained. “It isn’t safe-“
“Nothing is safe anymore! I’d rather be in danger with you then stuck in this fucking house for a second longer!” Marco takes a sharp breath in, exhaling slowly. “I’ll see you in 30 minutes, or I’m gonna start tearing this city apart to find your stupid ass, got it?”
When Grant doesn’t respond, he hangs up and slams his phone down on the sink. He meets his eye in the mirror, and there’s some relief in the fact that he barely recognizes the man he sees.