"Hey, Marcus-"

"What are you doing here?"

"Pal, I need'a confess somethin'.. I did it."

"Did what? What the fuck happened, Nick?"

"I'll tell ye, after I'm proper drunk."

Nicholas eyed the bar that stood a couple yards behind the man blocking the door. After a minute-long staredown, Nick finally gave up on trying to convince Marc and just pushed past him with little resistance.

He made a beeline for the bar, dragging up a chair from a nearby table with an unpleasant screech.

"You got any, uh.. wine?" Nick asked, looking around at the empty, dimly-lit barroom after sitting down.

"Didnae ken ye drank wine," Marcus replied, walking around the bar to take a random wine bottle off the rack, not even checking the label.

"I don't."

A few minutes later, Nick was sat at the far right end of the bar. A wine glass was set in front of him, filled halfway with a clear-orangish liquid. He knocked the whole thing back in two swallows, then leaned forward with his head in his hands, noticeably gagging.

"Don't like that..." He coughed.

"Then why the hell'd ye ask for it?"

"Shut yer mouth. You got any scotch?"

Marcus didn't reply, but turned away and walked a few steps towards a different cabinet, picking up a new bottle after a moment of deliberation.

-

It was only twenty minutes later that Nick was slumped over the bar counter, arms crossed with his head resting in the crook. He was mumbling incoherently, tone changing a mile a minute. His left leg was bouncing in a nervous way, while his right leg was scrunched up against his chest.

"Oi- Nick," Marcus lightly slapped the back of the man's head, setting down a stool to sit next to him. "Ye gonna tell me whatever the hell you did or am I gonna have to kick ye out?"

"Ach, ye kick me out 'an I malky another one," Nick mumbled, words slurring drunkenly, his Scottish accent much more prominent now.

Marcus stared at his friend, who looked up from the darkness of his crossed arms to squint up at the other's face.

"Yeh, killed some'n," Nick finished, turning his head so that he was facing back down towards the countertop, resting his head again.

"And? Pal, I cannae count on both hands the number o' ratty abusive bargoers I've put down. Killin' ain't abnormal for Candle'olders like us," Marcus added, placing a dark hand on his friend's shoulder.

"No- Nae, ye dinnae understand- It was a student."

Marcus' eyes widened, but he said nothing, letting Nick continue.

"One of mine. Older laddie, name was Edwards. He was threatenin' a hen after hours, pulled out a shiv and nearly got 'er but I stepped in before any real harm was done. Led 'em off and he's stinking up some shitty alleyway now."

"How old?" Marcus questioned.

"... Twenty-six," Nick replied hesitantly, his arms tightening around his head.

Marcus swore, looking away from the drunken man before him to drag a hand down his face.

"The girl's gonna know it was me, there's no way around it- they're jus' babies compared to us, Marc. I don't like killin' anyone who isnae over a millennia."

"No humans except our kind are older than a thousand, Nick. Nobody."

"That's the point," Nicholas replied, voice cracking. He lifted his head to look Marcus in the eye, his hazel eyes far too old and tired for a man who stopped aging at thirty-four.

"I'm a fuckin' professor- I dinnae kill people, 'specially not my own damn students."

It was now that Marcus noticed the other man had started to cry, tears streaking down his cheeks with quiet hiccups escaping his throat. He knew that Nicholas was a sad, emotional drunk- but he never cried.

"Ay- Ye had to do what you needed to do, Nicky," Marcus soothed, the hand on Nick's shoulder moving to rub circles over his back in an effort to calm him. "You're sure she saw your face?"

Nick paused, blinking rapidly for a moment.

"N-no, ah'm no' sure of anythin', actually. She ran away soon as she got the chance- lighting was bad too," He rubbed his eyes and sniffed, suddenly looking like he hadn't slept in weeks.

Marcus breathed out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes momentarily before reopening them to look his friend in the eyes again.

"'Am no' saying you should go back on campus and act like one of your students didnae just die- especially when you killed him- but you can't just skip out either. Best case scenario, the lassie thinks it was just some random guy who saved her life. Understand? Ye have to go back," He explained, before adding, "If they put you in jail, I'll bail you out. Cannae have anyone findin' out about our kind, if someone tries to kill ye and you don't die." His tone was as joking as he could manage, but Nick nodded as if he was serious, seeming to sober up a little.

"I- ah, I should go now, aye? I'll call in the mornin'-"

"No."

"Whot? Whaddya mean-"

"I'm driving you back to yer flat. You live in Edinburgh, yeah?" Marcus asked, pulling out his phone and unlocking it, immediately looking for Nick's address in his saved locations.

"It's an hour away, Marc. I dinnae wan' trouble ye more than I already have."

“What're ye gonna do, walk?"

Nick didn't offer a reply, looking back down at his hands, swaying a bit in his seat. Even if he did try to protest, Marcus definitely wasn't going to let him try to find his way around the British Isles by himself.

"That's what I thought," Marcus replied to the other's unspoken response. "Ye drive an hour to work every day, I can drive you an hour back."

Marcus was a big guy, so Nick didn't argue any more, lest he get dragged out to the man's car. He just sighed, loud and passive aggressive, putting as much contempt in the noise as possible.

"A thank you would be nice, ye ken."

Nick just sighed again, but nodded, managing a small smile and a quiet hiccup.

"Yeah. Yeah, thanks- dinnae ken what I'd do without ye, Marc."

"Sounds fake- but you're welcome."