It wasn't that Marcos wasn't used to rejection. Confidence allowed him to hit on pretty much anyone he found attractive which meant that he'd gotten used to getting turned down from time to time. Sure he succeeded more than he failed, but ultimately it didn't really bother him that much on the rare occasions that he found himself alone at the end of the night. At least, not usually.

Marcos stalked through the rain and dumped off the wheelbarrow by the marina. He was soaked through, his hair formed stringy ringlets around his face as he stared through the deluge and tried to decide on a course of action. His original plan to go home, take a bath, and do his paperwork was out the window. He was pent up, angry, and felt almost like punching something. His gaze drifted up the street towards the bar where his crew had gone to unwind.

Getting drunk sounded like a great alternative to the frustration currently boiling in his veins.

Without stopping to rethink his options, he headed towards the bar that had a sign reading "Guillermo's" over the door. Just before he entered the building, Marcos heard the whir of a bicycle flying down the street. He glanced back long enough to see Raphael, pedaling like mad as he swerved his way around puddles.

The omega seemed too intent on his bike ride to notice Marcos staring after him. The very sight of him sent a tingle of anger down Marcos' spine.

He turned away, not bothering to watch where Raphael was going, and shoved open the door to the bar.

The interior was cozy, warm, and dry. Wooden floors and walls, tacky local artwork, a collection of mismatched tables and chairs, and the smell of alcohol just about summed up all there was to say about Guillermo's bar. It wasn't particularly popular, but it was doing well for itself. The owner, the eponymous Guillermo, had put a lot of effort into making sure that his bar was relaxed and unpretentious. While it had a decent following among the tourist crowd, the bulk of its patrons were locals.

The atmosphere of the bar had a calming effect that wasn't dissimilar to coming home and kicking your shoes off after a long day of work. It was familiar even to those that had never been there before. Too bad its location on Main Street was less than ideal for attracting customers, otherwise Marcos was certain that they'd be doing better than they were.

Despite the fact that it was pouring outside, or perhaps because of it, the barroom was fuller than usual. The bar's calming effect had already begun to leech some of the anger that had been pounding in Marcos' head. He even started contemplating backing out and heading home before one of his crew saw him.

"Cap'n!"

Too late. Teddy had spotted him as he hovered near the door.

Bright eyes shining with glee, Teddy weaved his way between the crowded tables from where he'd been standing by the bar. He held a pitcher of beer in each hand and was careful to avoid sloshing the golden liquid over the sides as he walked.

"You decided to join us after all," said Teddy with a pleased expression when he finally reached Marcos.

"Yeah I...I figured I could use a beer...or three." Marcos forced a weak chuckle and smiled at Teddy. He knew the other man probably saw through him, but he was grateful when Teddy chose to ignore it.

"Well, we're all over there." Teddy raised one of the pitchers and gestured to a large table near the back corner of the room where the rest of the crew was gathered. The others had spotted him by now and several of them were trying to wave them over. Judging by the empty mugs on the table, they were already well into their second or third round.

"I think I'll swing by the bar first," said Marcos, "say 'hello' to Guillermo. It's been a while since I've seen him."

"Alright, but next round is on Alex and if you want in you're going to have to say so." Teddy started making his way towards the table where the others were eagerly waiting. "Oh," he stopped short and glanced back at Marcos, "and no slipping out of here without a word either. Now that you've put in an appearance you're going to have at least one round with us."

"Fine, fine," Marcos waved him on. "You'd better get back to them before they get tired of waiting."

Teddy didn't seem satisfied by that answer, but his crew mates were definitely getting tired of waiting. He grudgingly continued onward, carefully balancing the almost overfull pitchers as he went.

The bar was lined with regulars, people that Marcos recognized by sight only. He didn't know their names, and they likely didn't know his, but they all cordially nodded to one another when he filled an empty space.

"Nice of you to pop in." Guillermo's voice had an almost accusatory tone to it when he caught sight of Marcos. The barman was north of forty and going gray. He had a younger, twenty something, woman that Marcos didn't recognize helping him hold down the bar tonight.

"Dominic not here tonight?" Marcos asked, skipping over the pleasantries. He and Guillermo went back far enough that that kind of thing wasn't really warranted.

"Dom left. He's married, has a kid, and he's got a business of his own now. Of course, you wouldn't know all of that since you've all but dropped off the face of the planet for the last year." Guillermo really wasn't going to let his absence go easily.

"Good for Dom," said Marcos, deliberately ignoring the rest of Guillermo's statement. "That would explain why he's been out of touch with the Coast Guard. He was one of our best volunteers. I could use him when this storm hits."

Guillermo sighed and folded his arms. He looked as if he was debating whether or not to continue being angry at Marcos for staying away so long. "You should contact him," he said at last. "I'm sure he'd be willing to pitch in and lend some muscle."

"You know I promised your mom I'd look out for you," continued Guillermo after several long moments. "Kinda hard to do when you're never around."

"You're not that much older than I am," protested Marcos, "and I've already got a dad that I don't speak to. I don't need another one." He was beginning to regret his decision to come to the bar at all.

It wasn't that he'd been avoiding Guillermo. At least, not exactly. His last trip to the bar coincided with the fateful hook up with a crew member and he vaguely recalled making a complete ass of himself after one too many shots of...something. All of that combined had left him feeling reluctant to face Guillermo again.

"I'm not...I'm not trying to be your dad, Marcos," said Guillermo with a sigh. "I just don't want you to feel like you're not welcome here. You avoided my calls and texts and pretended not to hear me when I called out to you in the street. I get if you don't want to talk about what happened last time, that's fine. I just don't want you to feel like you've got to stay away."

Marcos looked away. He wasn't exactly feeling guilty, no wait. That's exactly what he was feeling.

"I just needed to take a break from alcohol for a little while," Marcos lied and forced a smile. "But now I'm back and I'd like something to drink." He wasn't an alcoholic, but he would be the first to admit that he'd maybe been drinking a little too much at that point in his life. It wasn't something he was proud off and thinking about it too much only highlighted how difficult a time that was for him.

"Here." Without prompting, Guillermo filled a mug with one of the beers on tap. "Drink up. Go chat with your crew, but don't go anywhere. I want to talk with you more after closing."

Marcos frowned and glanced up at the clock on the wall. "That's like six hours from now." He really did have paperwork to do.

"When else am I going to see you?"

"I...I'll come by tomorrow morning before you open. It's the crew's day off." Marcos shrugged. It wasn't ideal but it was better than sitting at the back of the bar for six hours with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling and watch people get drunk.

Guillermo eyed him uncertainly for a long moment. "Fine," he said at last. "If you don't show up..."

"Yeah, I know, you'll mark my door." Marcos shook his head and sighed. No one actually believed the old superstition, but it had become one of those non-threats used between friends to get a point across. Marking someone's door was supposed to allow departed loved ones to find their way to the land of the living and haunt the home that had been marked.

Marcos had mentioned the superstition out of habit. It wasn't until the words were out of his mouth that he felt like a stone had settled in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn't still be so sensitive to things like that. It had been over a year now.

"Don't get stuck in your own head." Guillermo's voice drifted through to Marcos and nudged him back to reality. "Just, relax. We can chat more tomorrow. Go ahead and drink up."

Marcos looked down at the beer in his hand. He suddenly wasn't feeling all that thirsty. His earlier anger and frustration had been forgotten. The only thing left now was a hole in his chest that felt big enough for someone to pilot a cruise ship through. He clenched his jaw and pushed away from the bar.

"I'll see you in the morning, Guillermo." Marcos turned and headed for the door. He thought he heard Teddy, or maybe it was Ruben, trying to get his attention as he made his escape. The voice seemed so distant that it was difficult to tell for certain. All he knew was that right now he didn't want to be here.

The moment he stepped out into the rain, he felt relief. The cold droplets splattered against his skin and he realized he'd been hot. The discomfort inside him began to ebb away as he listened intently to the sound of the waves crashing against the not too distant shore.

* * *

The apartment was small. A cramped studio perched above one of the shops on main street. It was filled with various boxes and bags that still hadn't been unpacked even though they'd been sitting there for a year already. Marcos didn't even look at them as he peeled out of his wet clothes and made his way towards the bathroom.

Taking a bath and relaxing was out of the question now. He felt drained by the roller coaster of emotions he'd been on that evening. All he wanted to do now was collapse into bed and pass out. Drawing everything out would only make things worse, he was certain.

As the hot water poured over him, Marcos slumped against the shower wall and looked down at the water streaming across his skin. Goosebumps prickled across his chest and arms as the chill from the rain was chased away. His thoughts were a jumbled mess that refused to focus on anything in particular. They hopped around from the great day he'd had fishing, to the hostile greeting he'd gotten from Raphael, and on to the bittersweet reunion he'd had with Guillermo. More bitter than sweet, now that he thought about it.

Marcos exhaled heavily. He didn't want to think about Guillermo right now. There were too many raw emotions there and he would have to confront them again tomorrow. So his thoughts returned to Raphael.

The flare of anger in his chest returned, briefly, but it was almost immediately replaced by an all too familiar feeling of frustration and sadness. Memories of teenhood fights with his father over whether or not he was really gay. The disdainful way the word "alpha" had dripped off his old man's tongue. No one else in his life had ever made him feel quite so small. At least, not until today. Not until Raphael, who's only reason for hating him was because of something that was beyond Marcos' control.

He slammed his fist against the shower wall, before sliding to the floor as his anger died away. It had taken a lot of effort to reach a point in his life where he didn't hear his father's accusatory voice every time he hit on a guy he found attractive. This time, his father's words had almost been parroted.

He sat for a long moment at the bottom of the shower and tried to wrap his brain around what had happened. The only thing that made sense to him is that some asshole alpha had damaged Raphael at least as bad as Marcos' father had damaged him. Otherwise, the omega was just a dick who thought he was better than the alphas that lusted after him.

Marcos climbed to his feet and began lathering soap across his skin. So that was it then. The ultimate middle-finger to his dad was not to let this beat him. No. Far from it in fact.

He felt his usual bubble of confidence begin to return as he finished with his shower and began to towel off. The only answer to both of their problems was to ignore the past. To move forward. Marcos clenched his fist in determination as he looked at his reflection in the foggy mirror.

He was going to win Raphael over.