"I know." It was one of the many things Dom liked about Marcus. Hell, maybe it wasn't healthy to be as goddamn responsible as this guy, but without people like him (without him specifically, actually), their world would already be flooded by grubs.
When Marcus parted with him, Dom was already feeling unsteady on his feet, but then again, you got used to that, too. However, a chainsaw duel with a Locust screaming in his face would probably have been less stressful then considering the full impact of what his best friend was saying.
Not that he hadn't guessed some of it already. Marcus was hard to read, but Dom knew him from childhood on. There was a reason that they had ended up in that tent together and even if that night had turned out to be a bit of a desaster, he could tell that it hadn't been for lack of trying on Marcus' part. He'd wanted this to work out - them to work out, maybe, where Dom had still been grappling with Maria's loss at the same time. However, from sharing a bed with a comrade to confessing, at least implying what Marcus now said... it was a damn big jump, especially for a Seran soldier and very much especially for tight-lipped, ever-stoic Marcus.
Dom wanted to answer, wanted to say something to at least try and give voice to the conflicting emotions in his chest and honour the affection that Marcus showed him and that meant a whole fucking lot to him no matter what.
However, it seemed that their connection was doomed to be plagued by tragically comic mishaps because the time that Dom had spent standing finally did his concussed head in. He swayed a little on the spot, gaze unfocused, fingers finding the trunk just in time before he turned around and threw up what little he'd had for breakfast in another dimension into the underbrush.