#threads ft. doc moretti

[w4rfared]

it's jarring, the suddenness with which everything is thrown into chaos around him. it's not quiet, doc wouldn't dare say such a word in the hallowed halls of the emergency department, but it's definitely not as chaotic as usual. that is, until he hears the startled gasp of what can only be a med student. his head snaps up immediately as one of them comes bolting out to him ( dr. moretti, there's been an incident, i - i sedated a nurse? oh my god, i sedated a nurse- ) and then he's on his feet.

as he rushes into the room, he finds @hvndredbattles and the rest of the med students looking objectively horrified. and mckay, eyes wide, looking at him, as if he knows what to do. something angry and sharp flares in marco's chest. " alright, everybody out! richie, you gonna drop on me? "

[w4rfared]

" hey - hey! " in an instant, marco is on his feet. it's not his place to intervene, this is what they have security for, but he can't sit still when something like this unfolds. he's been listening since the very first inclination of raised voices, but the moment he sees the patient make contact, all bets are off. the stool he's been perched on skitters out from beneath him.

he puts himself between the patient and the other, one arm immediately reaching behind him to hold his coworker steady. " the fuck do you think you're doing, huh? " marco probably shouldn't be getting in a patient's face, either. but hey, they swung first. " keep your fucking hands to yourself. you want to throw a punch? c'mon, big man, hit me with your best shot. back the fuck up. " he pushes at the man's shoulder to force him to take a step back, never taking his eyes off of him even as he speaks over his shoulder to the person behind him. " you okay? " [ open ft. doc breakin dishes for ur muse xoxo ]

[w4rfared]

the family room is blessedly quiet. the day has ended, the night shift ( night crawlers, or whatever the hell abbot had called them ) has taken over, and marco still sits with the baby in his arms. the baby, unnamed, who marco had agreed to take in. a moment of sheer instinctual impulsivity that brings them to now, curled up in a chair with the sleeping child on his chest in the dim room as he waits for his partner to arrive.

the door opens and marco's head tips up to immediately gesture for silence. " quiet, " he whispers as he settles a hand on the baby's back. there's no hiding the sheer softness in their eyes as he regards the tiny thing. " i panicked. i don't know. i can't leave her here, that's cruel. "

open to marco's ship partners ( or anyone from da pitt really idc! )!!!

[w4rfared]

[ text : RAFAEL BARBA ] They did end up making that fucking documentary.

[ text : RAFAEL BARBA ] I got an email from that stupid producer. I can't believe this.

@wizzos

[w4rfared]

it's like looking at a fucking ghost. one moment he's prepping for dinner service, listening to nonna screaming bloody murder at him ( non dimenticare le verdure, marcolino! ) and the next he's met with silence. he pokes his head out of the kitchen if only for fear that she's fallen somewhere, but she's standing in the middle of the dining room staring at the door. or rather, who has just walked through it. a child, surely no older than eighteen, with a face marco hasn't seen in over two decades. that is an alessandro. that is a younger version of dominic alessandro. the sheet pan in marco's hands hits the floor.

" what the fuck. " marco's voice sounds foreign to his own ears as concetta whirls around, eyes wide, and tries to explain herself. calmati, marco. va tutto bene. questo bambino ha bisogno di aiuto. this child needs help. marco doesn't move. " who the fuck are you? are you the one who fucking called me? " @wizzos this is DELICIOUS

[w4rfared]

he's not stupid, he knows he's giving into exactly what frank wants. santos had told them once that he was the world's most easily rage-baited man, whatever the fuck that means. all he knows is he's an absolute sucker for frank, especially when he's dressed like this. how easily he folds for a few well placed kisses is horrible for his reputation.

marco feels the other's legs lock around his back and he breathes out a sigh. a streak of irritation spikes through him, at his own inability to be strong in the face of temptation ( god damn it, marco, there's dinner on the stove! ) but that train of thought screeches to an abrupt halt as franks lips close around their thumb. a low rumbling sound greets them in return from the depths of marco's chest, heavy lidded eyes watching her every move.

" you little shit. " he murmurs as he slowly retracts his thumb and drags it down frank's lip, trailing with it a wine-dark smear down their chin. he leans in, lips ghosting over hers, hand still roughly holding their chin in place. " pretty as a picture, bella. " he presses a soft, almost chaste kiss to their lips, " bellissima. " [ @drbrat from here! ]

[w4rfared]

so that's langdon. marco's not sure what he expected the man to look like - probably worse, given the way the others speak about him like he's some kind of dead man walking. he's a handsome guy. seems nice enough so far, anyway. lena's phrasing explains it best: the prodigal son returns.

well, he ought to rip this particular bandaid off. during a brief lull, marco makes his presence known by clearing his throat and pulling a chair over to langdon's station. " dr. langdon, i'm dr. moretti. marco. " this is every bit as awkward as he'd expected it to be. " i've been- " ( replacing you, replacing you, replacing you! ) " helping out, while you've been away. " marco pauses then, a sincerity filling his tone, " it's good to see you. i've been looking forward to meeting you. " [ starter call ft. @truthlie ]

[w4rfared]

that's a new face. marco likes to think he's getting better at the whole recognizing his coworkers thing, or at least he's trying to. his disposition works in his favour for the names he forgets, though, with none too eager to strike up a conversation with one as stone faced and scowling as moretti tends to be.

the current charge nurse is different. not dana, not lena, but a man who marco is certain he has not forgotten the name of because he has never seen him before. he looks up from the station he's commandeered to write a few case notes, pushing his reading glasses up atop his head. " you supposed to be back here, or did you sneak in from the waiting room? " [ starter call ft. @hvndredbattles ]