Nicotine and Caffeine (Marc)

[Anabelle Brienne Salvatore]

Ana yawned as she finished signing her daily paperwork, glad that she'd changed into her pajamas (a Sex Pistols t-shirt that Marc had gotten her for a previous birthday and red plaid pajama bottoms) prior to deciding to finish up her work. Her usual clothes would've gotten uncomfortable.

She eyed the stack of reports on her desk that she still had to read and decided that she needed a cigarette and some coffee before she read them. She hadn't always smoked, but extended time around the Cavaliere had gotten her into the habit. It was bad for her, but she didn't feel like stopping. Too much work on top of what she already had to do.

Barefoot, she padded down the hallway and stairs to the kitchen, lightly skipping the creaky one. She snagged a cig out of the open pack on the counter (probably left by Charlie or Gabe, both of whom usually had a hard time holding on to their smokes) and lit it, blowing a ring of smoke into the air moments later after openin a nearby window.

The coffee-maker started and her favorite mug snagged from the cabinet, she leaped up on the counter below the window and popped a Ramones CD into the player. She turned the volume down low and hummed along to "The KKK Took My Baby Away."

[Marcus Lorenzo Trovatelli]

Marcus had been compiling information that he had received from the Order and reading reports from the Italian front for the last few hours. His and a couple of Mariella's as well. He was used to cover up for his fellow colleague sometimes. He wasn't one to leave for tomorrow what he could've done yesterday and liked to keep things ahead of schedule rather than behind it.

His eyes were now tired and his keen mind demanded some rest before it could come up with a way to neutralize some of the factors that had caught his attention in all the field reports he had just finished reading. It seemed that Voldemort and his followers were about to move against the British Ministry of Magic. That could be highly disruptive to the war effort if they were to be successful. Not to mention it could blow his cover as Asher Greene.

Marcus went to the kitchen in search of the black liquid of mental resurrection aka coffee. He did not mind to make a little noise on the creaky step as he went down the stairs as his mind was filled with other problems. He knew he was not alone as his sharp ears caught the sound of music playing and by the style of it his future company was either Anabelle or Mariella. There was an unconscious part of his mind that hoped it would be the former. That was until he actually entered the room.

"I don't believe you're smoking again, Ana!" Marc said, trying not to loose his temper big time, yet opening a smile when he saw his birthday gift being used by her. "You know that can be the death of you, right? Why care about the war?... Let's kill ourselves with nicotine..." He said with that tone of voice that emanated the vibe of I'm older and you should listen to me. Haven't I always helped you when you were in doubt? Listen to me! He then got closer to the coffee maker.

"Enough for two?" Marc asked, trying not to look at Ana. He had discovered that slightly ignoring her presence was a good way to make her do what he said, specially when it came to what was becoming an unhealthy vice. 'Thanks for introducing this poison to my friend, Cavalieres.' He thought sarcastically as he decided it was time to look Ana in the eyes. "I mean it, Ana. If you don't throw it away, I'll be going even without my coffee." He said in a serious tone of voice, the worry he felt for her was hidden in it somewhere for a perceptive ear to catch.

[Anabelle Brienne Salvatore]

Ana's eyes flicked away from the tiles on the floor when she heard footsteps down the stairs. To a regular person, the identity of the person approaching would probably be ambiguous until they entered the room, but Ana had been working with her colleagues since she was a small child; she recognized their gaits, even by sound. It was instantly obvious that it wasn't Mariella because the person was too heavy, and Gabe walked with a slight limp so it wasn't him either. Two of her usual nocturnal companions struck from the list...so the person walking down the stairs was either Marc or Shayne (she was secretly hoping that it was Marc). It was confirmed to be Marc a few moments later; Shayne jumped the creaky step and the two below it.

She leaned back to take Marc's Nightmare Before Christmas mug that bore a picture of Jack Skellington on it out of the cabinet (Mariella has bought Ana and Marc matching Jack and Sally mugs back in '93 as a joke) and placed it on the counter beside hers next to the coffee-maker. She glanced down and wondered if this would be one of Marc's more tolerant nights; he really didn't like it when she smoked. Had Mariella, Eliza and Fara (and later Gabe) not been spending years telling her that Marc had a thing for her, she would probably just chalk it up to brotherly concern (he'd been looking out for her since she was three, after all), but it really was hard to tell with him sometimes...

She smiled discreetly when he walked into the kitchen then grumbled a few unladylike words under her breath in Italian when he got annoyed over her smoking. She was not having this argument with him tonight. Since they were both incredibly hardheaded, their arguing usually resulted in both of them saying hurtful things that they didn't mean and not talking for two weeks (she refused to admit that she'd ever cried over anything that was said).

"Not having this argument with you," she sighed.

Partially because she could tell that he was already stressed out and angry; Marc usually called her Belle. She didn't want to be the person that made him stress more...even if she resented the fact that he'd trusted Fara more to help him with his work in England than he had her. She usually tried to push back the simmering anger that came up when she remembered those unsure months when she'd been stuck in Bari without word from him. She just didn't like being mad at Marc.

Her mouth quirked into a little wry smile when she caught the undercurrent of worry in his voice. Back in Italy, she would've told him that they were both adults and he didn't need to worry about her ((in Wizarding-Italy, one is considered an adult at fifteen)), but they were in England, where she wasn't yet. She wouldn't be seventeen until later in the month.

"With all of the other things you have to worry about, I would think that my smoking would be pretty low on the list," she mumbled, reaching behind herself to put her cigarette out in the ashtray on the windowsill. "I won't die, Marc; I survived that wall collapse in Bari, didn't I?"

Her still-bandaged ribs and lower back twinged in pain to remind her that she hadn't taken her painkillers. Ana had been caught under a collapsing wall back in Bari while trying to help a family evacuate. Her ribs and legs had been broken in a combined seventeen places; her back had been luckier and most of the damage was just bruising. Still hurt like hell when she forgot to take the prescribed painkillers, though; even magical healing had its limits, especially when done in a rush.

[Marcus Lorenzo Trovatelli]

His mind was playing tricks on him... It was probably because he should have stopped reading a couple of hours ago at least. Marc had failed to see his mug beside hers by the coffee maker until moments later. Well... it happened. There was also the fact that Ana's smoking and his dislike of that took his mind in a totally different direction, hers. It was only natural that he cared about her well-being, after all he looked out for her since she was three and he was about seven. Many would say that he was exaggerating and being overprotective right now, but he who loves takes good care of the loved one, no?

Marc had no doubts that he had always loved Anabelle. The feeling in itself had never been ambiguous to him, what made him think on occasion was what kind of love he had for her. Was it just brotherly love or lover love? It took years for him to find out for sure. Years and her almost dying at Bari due to a wall collapsing over her. Those months were like torture to him and he would know because he had been physically tortured before back in Italy. That uncertainty if she was going to be totally fine again or not while he was forced to be away on mission was worse than that. It sort of cemented the question, he thought. It was both. It started as brotherly love when they were kids, then somewhere along the line, he could not tell when exactly, it grew into its current state.

"Good. Because I don't want to have an argument about anything right now, especially not with you. We both know how that would probably end and we just might say something we'll regret later... Better to avoid that." Marc said venting some frustration out. There was no telling how glad he was when she disposed of the cigarette. He tried his best to show it through his smile though.

Marcus decided to ignore her wry smile, replying to it with an involuntary shrug. He just wanted to take care of her, why was that suddenly wrong? Being an adult doesn't mean you don't need anyone to watch over you. It only means that you can be made responsible for your actions as a mature person. He woud always continue to care and look out for her, just the how would change with time.

Ana then spoke about her incident in Bari. That was the exact reason why he had brought Fara with him to Britain. She was a friend, but she wasn't nearly as close to him as Anabelle was. Marcus had become a quite callous person when it came to war losses, he had lost many friends, friends he had sent to the front himself, but if Ana ever became one of those casualties his soul would probably pour out of the wound that would cause in him. Would she never understand that he did that not out of a lack of trust, but out of a need to safeguard her? Actually he woud have preferred if Ana were not even here right now, but since she was also a Curia Council Member that was not an order he could issue her unfortunately.

Marc saw her wince in pain due to her still on the mend sustained injuries. He picked the nearby painkillers from the cabinet and handled them to her. His hand stayed holding hers for a few seconds as if glued to the medicine package. "You were lucky, Belle. Nothing short of that. We can't always rely on luck. That is a bad strategy fated to failure." He told her in his usual militaristic way. He was trying to act normal like he wasn't that much worried, like this was a situation that could be worked around when he knew for a fact that the most they could hope to do was damage control for the time being.

[Anabelle Brienne Salvatore]

Ana smiled a little and leaned over to kiss his forehead before lightly leaping down off of the counter to begin pouring coffee. She suppressed a yawn as she did so; she'd been skipping a lot of sleep lately. There was a lot of work to be done and never seemed to be enough time...a few missed hours of sleep was nothing. Wars didn't rest, so they couldn't afford to, either...at least, that's what her grandmother had always said. Ana's grandmother had overseen the war effort for one of the previous Civil Wars and World War Two; Ana preferred to not doubt Alana's wisdom.

She tended to be a lot more work-oriented than most girls her age, so she rarely thought seriously about things like love and relationships. When she thought about it, though, she had to admit that she really did love Marc. She always had. The confusing part was in what way. She'd known Marc since she was three-years-old; he'd been her rock for nearly fourteen years. She had every reason to love him as much more than a brother or friend, and she probably did. Admitting that, though, was another story. Ana preferred to keep things of that nature private, to herself. She also wasn't stupid. Out of Marc's relatively few close friends, Ana was the youngest, and he'd spent a large portion of the time he'd known her protecting her...from exactly what, she wasn't sure. Sometimes it felt like it was from everything. Her failed attempts at being in relationships (she was perfectly capable of coping with heartbreak), her sometimes overly-critical family (who she was, again, totally capable of dealing with), you name it.

"Because we're both hardheads that can never admit to being wrong," she pointed out with a soft laugh. "Two sugars and no creamer in your coffee, right?"

She chose to ignore the shrug; she didn't want to get into another argument with Marc about what it meant to be an adult. She sometimes wondered if he even viewed her or some of their colleagues as adults. He was always working ridiculously hard, and it stung that he'd turned to Fara for help. Ana was friends with Fara, but she just didn't understand why Marc had to be prodded to let Ana help him with these kinds of things. Hadn't she been just as capable a helper all these years? She'd tried...but maybe not. It sure seemed like she hadn't.

She scowled briefly and placed the painkillers back on the counter. They made her drowsy, and she had a lot to get done still. She didn't want to fall asleep. She would have time to sleep after everything was said and done; until then, there was endless paperwork. It was a two-front war that they were in the middle of, after all. She just hoped that they would all still be alive at the end of it.

"I don't rely on luck," she retorted. "But, at that time, it sure came in handy. I couldn't have let that family die there. We are responsible for more than just a war; the well-being of our people rests in our hands. I can't help but feel like we fail them horribly sometimes..."

She hated how he tried to keep up the act of not being worried when they were alone. Didn't he know that she saw through him as easily as he saw through her? She knew Marc's moods well; when people are friends for as long as they had been, they learned the little cues that the other gave about their mood and thoughts. She usually let him get away with his act, though. He'd drop it once he loosened up some...at least, she hoped that he would.

[Marcus Lorenzo Trovatelli]

Marcus respectfully, some would say even brotherly like, snaked an arm around Ana's waist as she approached to kiss his forehead. His eyes followed her as she went towards the counter to take care of their coffee. She was just so young and lively. It was easy to fall for Ana. He also noticed her action to supress a yawn. That was a bit worrisome. Not that it was a very uncommon practice between the members of the Curia. Too much to do, too little time. That was the current story of their lives. Marcus himself had skipped a few nights of sleep altogether lately. Actully he's developped a rest schedule that was doing him better than trying to find the time to rest for a few hours in a row. He thanked his compatriot Leonardo DaVinci for the idea.

"It's OK to be tired even because you're still injured, Belle. You should rest more at least until your bones are fully mended..." Marcus offered, his tone was that of a kind older brother and not that of a colleague now. "I know there is much to do, but I'll offer you a deal... We'll take turns. I'll do a little of your work this week and you'll do a bit of mine next week, OK? Better, I could tell Mariella to do a bit of your work since I'm currently doing hers. That seems fair to me. What do you say? Just until you are fully healed... It is important to rest properly to make it faster..." He offered as the smell of the coffee began to fill the air and his mind began to antecipate its effects on its own tiredness.

"Hey, the boss, aka yours truly, is never wrong... so I don't have to admit such untruth ever..." He kind of joked and laughed as well, pointing at himself when he said yours truly. Such moments of lightness made even their kind of life worthwhile. "Sure. Strong and pure as possible coffee. That's what I need right now." He said with a pleasant smile, agreeing with her words, while feeling relieved by the fact she decided not to begin an argument. That would not end well tonight. He always did feel horrible when their conversations ended up as heated discussions. Not that it didn't happen with the others on occasion as well, but with Ana it was just worse in a different way when it did. I hurt more afterwards every time it happened. Not that he'd ever say that out loud.

"What? You're not taking your medication, Belle?" Marcus asked a bit disappointed when she placed the painkillers over the counter again. "You don't need to be in pain in order to prove you're strong and capable. I know that." He said in a stronger tone of voice. He had a feeling this was his fault for overprotecting her all those years. She felt she had something to prove him. She did not in his point of view. Maybe it was time to tell her that... "You have nothing to prove to anyone, Belle. You just have to take care of yourself because we... I'll need you in top shape soon..." He added truthfully, letting slightly slip how bad things could get in the near future in his tone of voice as he received his coffee mug and took a big sip from it in order to try to uncloud his tired mind.

After her reaction to his previous words about luck, Marcus knew he had chosen them badly. He had ignited Ana's wish to be more respected by him, not that she wasn't already in truth, and also the whole thing about coming to Britain beforehand with Fara would certainly come out to bite him again. He decided not to add insult to injury and just address the rest of her sentences. "We do everything we can. Everything that is humanly possible, Belle. Not to mention that ending these wars will improve the well-being of our people and also might rekindle our long lost friendship with the British." He said honestly. The truth was that war was something terrible and unfortunately usually too long for anyone's sake.

[Anabelle Brienne Salvatore]

She sighed internally. If only it were that simple. Th Salvatore were the de-facto Heads of the Curia, so there were a lot of reports and intelligence meetings and...it all gave her a headache if she thought about it too much. She liked these nights in the kitchen with Marc. She could, for once, pretend that she was a normal teenaged girl talking to a boy that she'd come to care for so much over the years of knowing him...a boy that probably only saw her in the light that he viewed Mariella. He spent so much time with Ana's cousin Riley, and Riley was so, so pretty... It helped solidify Ana's belief that Marc liked Riley to remember that Marc and Riley were roughly the same age.

She smiled over her shoulder at him when he noted how tired she seemed. She'd be fine after her...seventh cup of coffee of the day. She was sure that she'd read some health report that said that excessive caffeine intake caused erratic heart-rate and potentially raised the likelihood of heart attacks, but she didn't really believe that. She'd been skipping sleep and drinking a lot of coffee for years.

"I'm fine!" she reassured him. "You're always so busy, and Mariella is perpetually held up in meetings. I wouldn't wish the intelligence reports I get from the front on my worst enemy. I'll be fine. I always am, aren't I?"

Those reports really took a huge toll on her. They were depressing, which was why she wouldn't dump them on anyone else. Winning battles meant very little when major cities were getting wrecked in the process. The damage was staggering, even to her, sometimes. Marc, Mariella, Shayne and Lia were always so busy that she didn't want to push any of her own workload off on them.

"Oh, si, never wrong. I could think of a few times when you were, but that must have been your secret wrong twin," she quipped with a crooked grin and a laugh. She liked being able to pretend that they were carefree, just regular young adults with regular problems. It kept her sane. "I thought so. You always like your coffee a particular way."

She hated when they argued. They knew each other so well that they always knew what hurt the most when voiced. It left both of them hurt and irritable for weeks afterward. Had she been anyone besides Anabelle Salvatore, she would have admitted that he made her cry sometimes, because Marc knew exactly what to say to leave her fighting back tears. She was Ana, though, so she'd never admit that. She'd been raised to be a soldier, and, as her grandmother and uncle insisted, soldiers don't cry.

"I'm not refusing to take them to prove anything," she sighed, taking a sip of her own coffee. "I'm refusing to take them because they make me drowsy, and I don't want to sleep."

She'd been plagued by nightmares since she was kidnapped as a small child and subsequently tortured by the Auditore. She hadn't known how to dispel a Boggart back then, and it had left her more scarred than she ever cared to admit, even to herself. Sometimes they were worse than other times; recently, they'd been horrible. She didn't want to go to sleep only to wake and not realize that she was in her own room. She hated those nights that always left her seeking out Marc for comfort. She didn't like to feel needy.

"Sometimes, it feels like they'll never end," she admitted softly. "Sometimes, it feels like we'll spend forever fighting each other. The Auditore are still Italian. They're our people. I hate fighting them."

[Marcus Lorenzo Trovatelli]

Marcus shook his head disapprovingly before saying. "OK, Belle. If you really prefer to lie to me, it's fine. I'm not in a belligerent mood tonight…" His words flowed out of his mouth almost dejectedly. It was a sign of his general state of mind slipping through. That and his tiredness topping it off. "I'll just say what I think… Reading what you do every day, you should be taking better care of yourself. We may be members of the Curia, but we are soldiers too and we will be called upon again to the front stage. It won't take too much longer now… You know well how I deal with these situations, so I guess I need not say more." He said and then rested his case and took another large sip from his coffee mug.

Marcus was never one to use his position of authority to hide away from the action. He was a brave and skilled fighter himself, maybe a little too unforgiving depending on his opposition and what they have been doing recently. He'd seen much direct combat in his still short life. He also wasn't shy to deploy whomever had the necessary skills for the mission that needed to be accomplished, no matter their current state or position. The important to him was efficiency, speed and favorable results. Trovatelli was known by his troops to be the kind of commander that was overzealous and even a bit obsessed with his job, giving focus to minimizing civilian casualties in his operations and also for being a no nonsense and smart leader who uses his brains and tactician skills in the battlefield, preferring to destroy the enemy swiftly rather than engage in a long fight when and where possible. In many cases he had managed to strategize ahead to that end, but unfortunately not always… especially lately.

"Yet… giving a hand to each other when needed is part of what keeps our efficiency on the high." He said with that old brother vibe again. "We're busy, but before all else we're also friends and in some cases also family, Belle. We are here to help each other through this so we can lead everyone else through this too. I am here to help you through this. Hopefully well enough so far…" He said honestly, taking another, smaller, sip of his coffee. Marcus was a very self-assured young man. He needed to be in order to occupy his current position. Yet, even he had his moments of doubt. Was he actually doing his best or being as efficient as he could be? Those were everlasting questions on his mind, but he had learnt years ago that paying them too much heed was counterproductive.

"We have always worked so closely because I can't do my job if you don't do yours, Belle. Moving troops without good intelligence is a recipe for disaster. I may not be your worst enemy… hopefully I'm quite the opposite… but well… I always end up getting that info anyway." He said to brake her resistance to let him help her, making a slight joke in the process. "Sure, I'd rather get it from you, but if it means that you can rest just one hour more every day until you're fully healed I'm willing to offer myself for the sacrifice to get the undigested versions of some of your reports for a few days." He offered again trying to keep the lightness in the air while also showing his concern for her well-being. He stopped for another sip of coffee and then continued.

"I have let you know how I decide to move the troops for years now since you became an adult yourself. I know you know how I think better than anyone else in the Council. You're the only one I'd actually trust to replace me permanently or temporarily if something came to happen to me. So the trade I've offered before might actually work and it would be to your benefit as well, which is very important to me in many ways." He said insisting and maybe for the first time placing in words all the trust he had in her ability. He also, maybe for the first time, allowed to let his words convey a bit of his true feelings for Ana as his last ones did imply a greater sense of worry than his usual.

"What!? So you've found my secret?" He asked and then smiled at Ana after the wrong twin comment. Marcus knew how important it was for morale and just overall sanity to be able to abstract and just let go for a while. Those lighter moments of jest in the kitchen were what made life worth it for him. They could just pretend to be normal young people in a normal setting and joke and have fun by each other's company. They also did make him sure how important her presence was to him and how much he'd miss her if one day she did not come back to him. He noticed that thought growing inside his mind. Come back to him, not the Curia. He did want her close to him.

"I see…" Those simple words and a raised eyebrow were his only replies to her response on why she wouldn't take her painkillers. "More nightmares lately? Wanna talk about it?" He asked, trying not to sound over-worried and offering his help. Marcus knew that Ana preferred not to touch the subject, but it was important to do so in his point of view. Maybe if he began. "We all have nightmares, Belle. It is part of the life we live. Anyone who has seen combat, even muggles, have them. It is no shame…" He offered kindly. Even though he had entered the room complaining, after Ana had disposed of the cigarette Marcus' mood went in a nicer, yet still caring, direction. Not that his mood could not change with the right incentive. He was Italian after all.

"It's just a question of how long is long enough or too long for both sides. My father has told me once of the last war and how it ended. Things just reached a point in which people no longer wanted to keep fighting and that is when peace generally comes back. Unfortunately to be broken again by the children of the defeated side…" Marcus said, trying to stay hopeful. "I also don't like it, but I try to keep in mind that it was the Auditore who chose to fight against us rather than accept the Curia as a viable leadership. We are showing them our valor, maybe one day they may come to respect us just enough to give up on trying to usurp power. That would bring a much longer lasting and needed period of peace to our beloved homeland." He continued with how he saw the current situation and its possible repercussions.

[Anabelle Brienne Salvatore]

Ana sighed tiredly and let her usually impeccable posture slip, shoulders slumping down as she used the counter to support herself and avoid her knees buckling like they had a few days prior to her leaving for England. She'd been walking down the stairs at the time and cracked her head pretty hard on the bottom step. Her departure had been delayed even further as a result, and the doctors had come to the conclusion that she'd never walk normally again. They'd painted a bleak picture of progressive damage that took her from a cane to leg braces to a wheel chair if she continued to "exacerbate the injuries by ignoring professional advice." None of which had yet to be told to Marc.

"I'm as okay as I can be...is that better?" she asked. "I'm trying to be as helpful as I can be before I'm not much use at all...three years, Marc. The doctors said that, if I continue to refuse the six months' bed rest that they initially ordered, I will only have working legs for the next three years. I can't just up and lay in bed for six months, though! They won't...listen..."

Ana paused and raked a hand through her hair. The bed rest had been brought on by a previous refusal to go on leave long enough for a series of other injuries. She was frustrated beyond words by the whole thing. She was needed, damn it! A lot of people would die if she just took off for half a year! They had to understand that! And...what if Marc was one of them? What if Ana put someone else in charge of what she did for six months and Marc didn't come back home? She wouldn't be able to take it. It'd be her fault that he died, and she couldn't stand even the thought.

"Let me be useful for now, Marc...I can't just...walk away from my work. I'll be fine," she insisted. "It's my responsibility. I'm not a little kid anymore. I can handle this...you do so much, already. I can tackle my paperwork; I'll get sleep during the day at some point."

A thought suddenly hit her. She didn't think about it much, but she'd had a conversation about Marc with Riley not long before her cousin had taken off for England. Riley had been teasing Ana about her inexperience in romantic matters, and the conversation had lead to a discussion about Marc. All that Ana had really bothered to pay attention to was one particular thing that Riley said. "He loves you, you know. I sometimes wish that you could switch places with one of us for a little while so that you could see the way he looks at you." Ana had scoffed at her cousin at the time; pointed out Riley's inability to get into a steady relationship. She couldn't help but wonder, though...

"Hey, Marc, have you ever been in love?" she asked, seemingly out of the blue.

She smiled and laughed softly at his twin comment. She wondered what he would've been like if they'd grown up in peaceful times. She liked to think that he would smile more (he had a nice smile) and act more like the twenty-something-year-old that he was. Maybe he'd go out partying more with Gabe and Charlie, have a girlfriend. She'd probably be pretty, and older than Ana. Funny, too, because who liked girls (or anyone for that matter) that lacked a sense of humor?

"That's right! I'm on to you!" she laughed. "And your wrong twin!"

She slid down to sit on the kitchen floor, finally, legs unable to support her. Little by little, they were getting stronger, but she had a long way to go. By the time her legs were back to full strength, she'd probably be in a wheel chair. Oh, the poetic irony. Would it never end? She hoped it did, and soon.

"If they were nightmares about combat situations, I wouldn't be ashamed of them," she replied softly. "But I'm still having nightmares about something that happened when I was a little kid...I've seen so many worse things since then, and that's still what I relive every night. Sounds kind of ridiculous, doesn't it?"

She laughed bitterly. She thought it was funny, in a ridiculous, morbid sort of way. Of all the things that she could be so affected by, it was a Boggart that she'd encountered when she was five. Eleven years later, and the damned thing still haunted her. There were days when she'd give anything to be able to have a peaceful night's rest without having to find Marc. The fact that she was relient on him for any peace of mind while she slept was humiliating.

"Oh, lovely. We wait until the war runs its natural course, and in the meantime, innocent civilians are dying. Dio, why isn't there more we can do, Marc?" she wondered despairingly. "I know that we do everything, but it'd be nice of everything we're capable of was enough for once."

[Marcus Lorenzo Trovatelli]

Marcus noticed the change in Ana's posture, he always noticed even the littlest things about her. At first, years ago, he thought it was because of his protective instincts toward her due to their long friendship or his sense of responsibility to watch over the youngest child in their group being one of the oldest ones. That was true especially after Ana's incident with the Boggart. He had been there for her in every single moment she needed him or at least he had always tried his best to do so. Lately he had noticed the fact that he just likes to notice things about her. Just to know things about her…

He nodded affirmatively as a reply to her question about her greater honesty about her general state of well-being. Then his face changed into one of surprise, mixed with a little disappointment and a lot of worry as Ana continued to speak. "Since when do you know this?" He asked her. "I refuse to believe you'd keep something as serious as this from me for a long time…" He spoke more as a loud thought then actually trying to convey the words. He really couldn't think on that possibility. Why would she hide something so important from him? They were friends and colleagues… and he loved her, though she probably didn't know that part yet.

"Maybe it is you who should listen, Belle. I know that six months is a long time to do nothing… I'm not saying that you should do nothing, but would it not help if you took strain out of your legs for a while? You can tackle paper work without being on your legs. Not to mention you're at Hogwarts now. There is a lot of information there to be procured by a smart listener like you. Maybe playing your cards right and I'm sure you're able to do so, you can turn this situation into a favorable one…" He offered uncertain.

"Go into a wheelchair for some time. Give your legs the brake they seem to need. You don't need them to talk, to read or to write anyway. Make an effort to rest a bit more each day. As long as you still have your wand on you, I know you're dangerous and so do you, but most will not. Not to mention that a simple levitation spell can help take a wheelchair anywhere if used right… and, if really needed, you can still stand up, though that would sort of defeat the purpose at least during the next few months…" He explained his chain of thought. Anabelle crippled for life was not something he wanted to think about… ever. It simply had to be avoided in every way possible. The only problem is that he wasn't a medwizard and didn't know if his idea would do her any real good. It just seemed logical to him.

"No one wants you to walk away, Belle. Just that you give yourself a chance to recover a little… as you seem to desperately need." Marcus said as calmly as he was able to be after such bomb falling on him out of the blue. "What good will you be to us crippled? If there is a chance to avoid that, you should try. This war won't last forever, Belle. No war ever does. Maybe it is time to be slightly selfish and save yourself." He didn't believe what he was saying was actually leaving his mouth, especially the last part. This news were really messing with his already tired mind. "I'll be watching you to see if you are doing as you said and actually sleeping instead of napping." He teased. Everyone knew that Marcus Trovatelli had many loyal eyes and ears and some not so loyal, but he knew how to get what he needed from them.

Marcus now had to adapt his strategies. He wouldn't be placing strain on Ana as much as possible for the time being. It was safer that way in his opinion, not only for her. Though he did not think she was not capable to work. He thought that she was still completely able for the intelligence work that was hers and a bit his to do. It's the whole pretend inferiority and encourage the enemy's arrogance thing. It always worked. Why wouldn't it work now? While he was a bit lost in his own thoughts, Ana asked a question that called his attention.

"Sure." That was the only reply Marcus could muster with a clean face. Not to mention that it made sense according to his age and to top it off it was the truth. Though he would not tell with whom he has been in love even under torture. It was not the right time for this. When would it ever be? "Is there a reason for the sudden curiosity about my personal life?" He asked smiling. He was trying to hide the fact the question made him a little nervous, but Marcus had learnt how to keep his cool under stress by now.

He followed on the laughter and really did wish for his wrong twin to exist on occasion, but in reality there was really only him. The one and only Marcus Trovatelli. Everyone has done things they are not proud of or regret. It's just worse when you've spent a good part of your time alive fighting a war. He was not one to dwell a lot on what wasn't a real fact to be dealt with. Though, on occasion, he had to confess that he did think on how life could be without the war. More for the sake of making future plans than wishing for a changed past or present.

"Right back at you, Belle." Marcus replied to her I'm on to you remark and took the last sip of coffee from his mug, placing it over the counter. He just took a moment to observe her and wonder how she'd be like in a future different environment. Surely she'd still be friends with Mariella, but would them both still be such rock aficionadas? She would still be fun to be around, he believed. Hopefully she'd laugh more. She is just so beautiful when she is laughing. Not to mention the basic things young people their age do that they had to forego because of duty like having more friends or a social life to be accounted for, having time to spend with the old friends and sure they could be together or even married by then. He smiled again at his thoughts and then remembered what he had just heard. Ana could be in a wheelchair when they get to this time of their lives. This thought and the sight that accompanied it wiped the smile from his face.

The moment his eyes caught sight of Ana sliding to the floor, he approached her fast and took her in his arms as if she weighed nothing and placed her sitting over the counter. Their eyes met again as he placed a caring hand on her cheek. "Hey, they say that childhood traumas are the ones we take for longer because kids are not equipped with all the defense mechanisms that adults develop to deal with the less favorable aspects of life. You were attacked, Belle. That is never a nice thing to remember no matter how old you were when it happened." He said and then gave her a half hug with his right arm. He just wanted to help her, but it had happened so long ago and still there wasn't much he could do but hold her in a tight and kind embrace until she slept. At least he managed to allow her to feel safer. "So… no. That is not ridiculous. It's just unfortunate…" He said and kissed her forehead.

Marcus passed a hand through his hair as Ana spoke about the war. "Well, we can aim at total annihilation of the enemy too, but the level of innocent casualties that can cause is not something I want to think about, Belle. All in all, we're doing what is best… even if it is not the fastest way to settle things. At least there will be life in Sicily by the end of this war…" He said somber. It did pass through his mind a couple of times to order the Cavaliere to send a harder message to the Auditore and burn Syracuse down to the ground to prove that he might be a young leader, but not a foolish one to be played with. Hopefully things wouldn't ever get to that.

[Anabelle Brienne Salvatore]

Marc always seemed to notice when Ana was unwell or something along those lines. She hadn't realized it when they were kids because she'd been the youngest of their immediate group of friends, so they'd all had a tendency to hover over her. Until a few years ago, she had just assumed that Marc was like that because he was so much older than her (four years seems like a big deal to a twelve-year-old) and viewed her in the same way that he did his own sister. Recently, though, she had taken on the hopeful perspective that maybe, just maybe, he thought of her in a romantic way. It was probably a stretch, especially because he'd gone to Riley and then Fara for help in Britain instead of Ana, but the thought was comforting.

"I fell down a flight of stairs back home," she began shakily. "That's why my departure was delayed; I hit my head on the bottom step pretty hard. After that, though, is when I was told. I've know for as long as I've been here. I didn't want you to worry, so I didn't say anything until now. I want to be as helpful as I can while I can still walk around freely."

She made an exasperated noise at his suggestion. It wasn't a bad suggestion, really. The thought of what her grandmother would say if Ana agreed to use a wheelchair, though...she shuddered at it. Alana already thought that Ana was a weakling and an unworthy successor to Rafiel's old position. She could only imagine what her grandmother would say i she was proven correct.

"Marc, I'll be fine. I don't have time to be selfish, and my grandmother would make my life even more miserable than she already does if I went in a wheelchair. It's no big deal," she insisted stubbornly.

She blushed lightly when he asked where her question had come from. She should've learned by that point to not ask questions prompted by Riley teasing her. It had been getting Ana into awkward situations for most of her life. This was quickly turning into one of the previously mentioned awkward situations...oh, she was sure that Riley was sitting in her room laughing at her at the moment. She wouldn't be able to look her cousin in the eye...

"Ah...no reason, really. Riley was teasing me the other day...I guess I should stop taking that to heart," she lied. True, Riley's teasing as part of it, but she'd genuinely wanted to know. She supposed that she would never know; Marc probably wouldn't tell her. She wouldn't have told anyone, either; it was a dangerous thing, falling in love.

Her blush darkened when Marc picked her up. She smiled weakly as he spoke. Out of everyone, he alone always manage to make her feel less pathetic about the...incident. It was part of the reason that she'd fallen for him. A big part, honestly.

"Thank you, Marc," she said softly when he finished speaking. "You're the best friend anyone could have. You know that, don't you?"

[Marcus Lorenzo Trovatelli]

Marcus has quite a temper. Everyone who knows him well enough, knows about this fact. Yet, he can also be cold and perceptive when it was needed. His perception was generally drawn to Anabelle, specially when she was in the same room as himself. That began happening after the Boggart incident. It was a mix of anger towards her kidnappers and care for his friend that started it all. Very innocently. Two kids who grew up together now fall in love. A story heard a thousand times. Marcus never expected for Belle to see him as more than that annoying and protective self appointed older brother. Though sometimes she looked at him as if she would be willing to reciprocate his affections. If only this war could end soon enough.

"I understand…" Marcus said slowly, but she'd be able to see the disappointment on his face. He wasn't trying to hide it at all. "Though you do know that any soldier must convey any health problems to the Council, right? That includes us. I... we could've placed you into more danger than you can take right now." He said in a thoughtful stance.

"Don't worry, Belle. I won't cut you out from the war effort. Even if I wanted, which I don't, I can't. Your say is just as good as mine in the Council and I would never turn the others against you. I prefer to try to convince you to take better care of yourself just between us. They don't need to know anything, Belle." He said knowing it to be true. His hands were tied when it came to his colleagues in the Council. Just a majority vote could get anyone suspended or relieved from active duty. Marcus would never make Anabelle pass through that shame, even if it meant something worse in the future. He would respect her decision as long as it was hers to the very end.

Marcus by now knew exactly what was passing through Belle's mind when she let out that exasperated noise. She was always trying to prove herself to her family. Ever since the incident. She was still to understand that strength comes in many different ways and she did have a lot of it. She was brave and capable. That should be enough, but it didn't seem to be to the Salvatores. The fact she'd let herself get crippled when she could try something that would barely get in the way of her work because of what they would think made him very angry.

"It's not a question of time and we both know how much of a big deal it is, right?" He asked looking her in the eye. "I already told you, Belle. You have nothing to prove to anyone. If what you have done so far isn't good enough for them, your sacrifice won't be either. It will be a waste of your future life and only that. You know I'll stand by you whatever you decide to do, but do it out of your conviction not out of fear. That is what is keeping us going so far… Conviction. We cannot afford to be afraid of anyone or anything anymore." Marcus said energetically. He hoped she would know for a fact now that he'd be her sword and her shield against anything. He would stand by her no matter what or against whom.

A small smile graced Marcus' features when she blushed lightly at his question of where her previous one had come from. Yes, she might possibly be willing to reciprocate his feelings in the future. But what would that future be like for them? Would them manage to win the war fast enough? He didn't mind her state. Marcus would stay by Anabelle's side until the day one of them died. Did that mean they were kind of spiritually married already? That was not something that scared him at all. Staying by her side and looking at her are amongst some of things he liked to do the most.

"Ha, Riley. Again. She likes to talk about what doesn't concern her, doesn't she?" Marcus said in a light tone as a sort of a joke. Though the fact that others were noticing was a sign that he should be more careful in public. He didn't want to place her in a difficult spot because of other people's teasing like she seemed to be now. "I'm sure she has said some nonsense as always to get you to blush and feel all weird. I don't get the pleasure she takes from that…" He tried to help her feel at ease again and just forget about the awkwardness altogether.

His smile broadened at her reaction to his words, both verbal and not. "Hey, don't mention it, Belle. That's what a friend is meant to do, right?" He replied to her thanks while smiling broadly now. "Am I? I though Mariella was your best friend. Me, Marcus, huh… maybe just that overprotective guy who is always bothering you about smoking and taking care of yourself better…" He continued in good humor, teasing her, but also throwing some green to try to harvest some new information about how she really felt about him.

[Anabelle Brienne Salvatore]

Ana was extremely impatient and proud; anyone that knew her well was aware of this. She didn't take kindly to foolishness, and her temper was hellish when provoked. She usually chalked this up to the Malfoy in her, but the temper seemed to be a universally Italian trait. She'd heard the British commenting on it when she was at the Ministry. Apparently, Lord Aurelius had given them a lot of trouble. She found that funny; Shayne's father was rather mild-mannered and pleasant normally. They must have done something to anger him. Now, Ana's father, or Marc's....she shuddered to think of either of them working in the Ministry. Matthew Malfoy and Carrow Trovatelli were fiercly protective of their children.

"I can handle anything you throw at me," she insisted stubbornly. "Don't you dare think that I can't handle what I was doing before, Marcus Trovatelli. I am every bit as capable now as I was last year."

If there was one thing about Marc that really got under her skin, it was that he seemed to think that she was defenseless. She knew what it came from, remembering vividly how angry he'd been after she was recovered in the aftermath of what she referred to as The Boggart Incidident in her head, but she hated to be treated like a small child. She was not frail, she was not incapable of taking care of herself; she was legally an adult in Italy. She preferred to be treated as one.

"Fear is a luxury of the lazy," she mumbled, quoting her grandmother. "I'm not afraid; I'm stubborn. Very different."

She smiled wryly at him after saying this, knowing that she'd probably failed at trying to lighten the mood. She had to try, though. Marc had this tendency to get a little too intense and scare people that didn't know him well; they'd all been trying to counter-balance that for years without outright telling him that he was being a spazz. Mariella and Ana in particular. They both admired his conviction too much to tell him that it went a little too far sometimes.

"I think that Riley talks about things that are none of her business to distract herself from things that are," she speculated. "Or at the very least, she hopes that we'll forget that she owes us a report."

The issue wasn't that Ana's cousin was lazy; the issue was that she was over-extended. Riley stood at the helm of a massive network of spies and diplomats (which weren't very different, all things considered), and it often left her scrambling to keep up with everything. In as timely a fashion as was possible, she always kept them updated. Riley's pride in the quality of her information dictated that she refused to pass along faulty intelligence, though, which was an issue in and of itself. She was, all in all, an excellent spymaster.

"Mariella and I are very close," she agreed. "It comes from working together as much as we do. You and I have been friends since we were children, though. While your constant badgering about my health annoys me intensely, I don't know what I'd do without you."

[Marcus Lorenzo Trovatelli]

Marcus knew Anabelle well and her reaction to his trials of help was very expected. He, though, wasn't one to give up easily of what he thought was needed to be accomplished and be sure looking after Belle is permanently on that list for quite some time now. On the top ten, just after the war and his core family related bullet points. Sometimes he hated the fact he couldn't do more for her. The whole situation was just terrible and about to get worse. If only things started to work out for a change. There was a faint hope as usual, but information wasn't coming on that front fast enough.

"So the fact I had to place you over this counter was just a simple… need of the moment then?" Marcus knew how to be provocative when he wanted, even though his tone of voice was still quite calm and even a bit innocent at the end of his question. His intention was clear, to show Belle that she needed to watch out for herself. She could become a danger to others if she simply fell out of the blue during a fight, not only becoming a better target herself, but also taking the attention of her current colleagues away from the fight. He had no intention to diminish her. He'd prefer to die rather than ever do anything that might hurt her feelings irreversibly, but she had to understand that at least until she was a bit better there was just no way her body could keep up with her words. No matter how much she wanted it to do so or believed it could. Facts are undeniable.

"Alright. Bad wording on my part. I give you that…" Marcus said in a conciliatory tone of voice. He was trying his best not to blow up and say what he should not. "Then why have you winced at my suggestion? Did it sound that idiot or farfetched to you? Because if the problem isn't on your end, then it's in mine… No other choice left, dear friend." That last part was actually in good humor. The rest was his trial to use reverse psychology to make her confess that Ana was worried about her grandmother's reaction if she took his suggestion. He was being a bit cruel even, trying to make her feel guilty by placing the blame on himself instead.

If her last comment didn't manage to lighten the mood much, the one about Riley's nosey ways certainly did. Well, it did earn Ana one of his big and beautiful smiles. "I could certainly buy that explanation. By the way, she's about two days late with the report on that preliminary search we've asked for. You know the one…" Marcus remembered out of the blue. He had a prodigious memory, which was good in his line of work. He had to know who was where at practically all times without much error to know who was available to be called upon to each mission and in some situations personnel manifests weren't handy to be checked.

Ana's declaration of love, it was one to Marcus, even if it was one of friendly or fraternal love, he settled for fraternal at this moment, lightened his features with an even brighter smile than before. "I badger because I care about you, Belle. If I didn't care, I'd just let you do whatever you want including things that are knowingly to your detriment. I know it's easy to think that neither of us will last long with this life we lead, but what if we are surprised with the opposite? I don't want to pester, I just want to take care of you. That's all. It's the older brother syndrome. If I had one myself, maybe I'd be different." He said looking in her direction all the time.

[Anabelle Brienne Salvatore]

He was one of those people that could pick at you and pick at you until you exploded. He'd been perfecting the skill for their entire lives; she expected as much from him. She didn't like it any more for having been dealing with it for so long.

"Don't try mind games with me tonight, Aeran," she sighed, dropping usual protocol and adopting a degree of familiarity that they generally reserved for their personal residences. "I'm too tired for reverse psychology. Even if you're right, I can't give Grandmother a reason to make me step down; it's Izzy that's next in line. She's brilliant as a Healer, but...."

She didn't want to say that her sister's leadership abilities were underdeveloped, even if that was true. Izzy was thirteen, a Healer in the South. Ana didn't want to throw her into a position where she had to lead; it had happened to Ana years before, when the eldest of the Salvatore children, her brother Rafiel, had lost his sight to illness. Since Riley had refused the Council seat in favor of the work she'd already been doing, Ana, the third-in-line, eleven-year-old intelligence agent (not even an officer) stationed at a Southern base, had been called to Rome to take over at Alana Salvatore's behest. She didn't want that for Izzy.

His comment about Riley got a short laugh from her. At least he wasn't hounding Riley for the reports; Ana's cousin might hex his eyebrows off, again. She was swamped with work and trying to weasel some information from Gio about a recent discovery he'd made. Ana didn't envy her that. Gio was brilliant, and a wonderful asset, but Dio it was hard to understand his theories.

"She's locked herself in her office to work on it," she reassured him. "Professor Gio developed some new theory that's giving her a headache."

That was about as close to a declaration of love as Marc would ever get. It was more than enough for her.

"Oh, don't give me that; you'd still badger," she scoffed jokingly. "It's part of your nature. If you didn't constantly worry over the rest of us, you wouldn't be Marc and those best friends of yours would have found themselves early graves."

Gabe and Charlie were great, really. Gabe, in particular, was a wonderful father and person, but he and Charlie were some of the biggest knuckleheads that Ana had ever met.