Title: Because She Lied
Rating: PG13
Summary: A long time ago, I wrote a bad story about Oliver coming back. I re-wrote it, with hopefully good results. I'll keep my fingers crossed and hope I succeeded in making a relatively above-crap quality story. Hopefully, you will enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own the O.C. Josh Schwartz and his magnificent brain do.
Feedback: Yes, please! But I must warn you that if you like Marissa you probably won't like this story very much, in which case, you won't like me very much for writing this. Meh.
-------------------
When he walks out of the hospital and the wind blows in his face, it whispers her name.
Marissa.
He's thought about nothing but her for the past year. He misses her. He misses her skin against his. Misses their relationship. Whatever it was.
Friend. Lover.
He always wanted to be her lover. She never wanted to be his. And yet she flirted with him and acted like she cared about him and talked to him about everything.
Oliver guesses that she doesn't tell Ryan everything.
Ryan Atwood, who did nothing to gain her heart and got it anyways.
Why? What does he have that Oliver doesn't? Marissa never told him. But she told him all about Ryan's past, or everything she knew about it.
She rambled on about how much Ryan suffered, how he'd gotten hit as a kid, all the things that Ryan confided in her.
Oliver loves her.
He loves her hair, loves her eyes, loves her thin, fragile body. The way it looks like it could break at any moment.
He loves that about her because they're kindred spirits. They're both fragile, breakable. And if they broke they would fit together like the pieces of a puzzle, two people joined together.
He thought she loved him.
She didn't, though. She doesn't. But that's ok. He's used to people not loving him. Marissa will be different. Oliver can get her to love him. He can make her love him.
He's better now.
He's a decent human being, and he has the doctor's certificate to prove it.
When Oliver knocks on her door he expects to see Ryan standing behind her, arms crossed and prepared to fight.
The way she looks isn't what he expects.
She's skinnier, her eyes are sunken in. She's pale and empty inside as she clutches her bottle of vodka to her hip. She's alone.
"Oliver?" she asks. Oliver nods. She slams the door.
Oliver knocks again, a gentle rap on the door, and she opens it. "Get away from my house, you psycho. How did you find it, anyways? I moved." Oliver ignores her slurred words. She's broken, like he was. He can fix her.
Because Ryan couldn't.
"I came to say I was sorry." Oliver says. He has a bouquet of flowers that he gives her. She rips it out of his hands and slams the door again. Oliver turns and leaves.
He's done all he can for today.
He buys a gun. He doesn't know why but it comforts him and it fits nicely in his pants. He waits by the phone all day because he knows she'll call.
Because she's weak.
Just like him. So he isn't surprised when he hears her voice on the other end of the phone. "Hello?" she says quietly. He waits a second.
"Hey, Marissa."
She clears her throat. He can tell she's drunk. That doesn't matter. "I found the note in the flowers. Thanks for those, by the way. Uh, so, we should talk." She sounds hopeful.
Oliver smiles. He knew she would call when she ripped the flowers from his hands. The flowers with the note in the middle that said he was sorry and he didn't mean to hurt her. The note with his phone number on it.
"Sure. That'd be awesome." Oliver says.
Marissa giggles. "Tomorrow? Ten at John and Mike's Seafood?" Oliver nods at the phone.
He knows that she'll love him.
She's sitting cross legged with a lacy skirt and a little black camisole. Her hair is up in a ponytail and she isn't wearing makeup.
"You look pretty." he says.
"Thanks" she says.
When they talk Oliver feels something swell in his heart. It's just like before, when they could talk for hours and never run out of things to say. When Marissa talked about her dick boyfriend and Oliver talked about his fake girlfriend.
This time it's better because there's no fake girlfriend; No dick boyfriend.
Oliver asks her if he can call her, and he's surprised at how naive she still is when she says yes. She gives him a tight smile, nods, and leaves. He pays for his burger and her untouched salad and goes home.
Whenever the gun isn't in his pants it's in the small desk next to his bed. He still stays at The Four Seasons, because he likes to be reminded of what could have been. Of what isn't.
He calls Marissa and asks her to dinner, and when she cheerily says yes, his heart lifts. While they eat, Oliver asks her what happened with Ryan.
"Oh. He, uh, got some slut pregnant and left. That was a while ago." She almost winces at her words and her eyes fill with familiar tears. Oliver nods. "I'm sorry." he says.
"Yeah."
They spend days together on the beach and nights together at the movies, and when she finally kisses him he wants to pull the gun out of his pants and throw it in the ocean.
She loves him. She loves him and even though she won't say it, it's true.
The way she looks at him, her eyes filled with hope. Her cheeks, no longer sinking into her skin. She even eats now.
"Marissa?" he asks, stroking her hair with his hands as she lies with her head on his chest. They're on his bed.
"Yeah?"
He takes one of her hairs and runs his fingers down it. He doesn't know why. "Do you love me?"
They've only been dating for a few weeks and it's a stupid question to ask, but he asks it anyways. He thinks she should love him now, since they've talked about everything in the past weeks and he listens to her talk for hours. She doesn't really return the favor that often.
Marissa sighs. "Yeah."
Oliver smiles and decides that he's never going to look at that gun again.
He needed it before. He needed it because it was safety. He could control it. Make it dangerous or make it safe. With his old girlfriend Elle he needed it. She was unpredictable.
Marissa is steady now. She loves him. He finally made her love him.
The next day he takes the gun out of the desk and puts it in his pants. He's going to throw it away. He's going to throw it into the ocean.
Then she opens the door and breaks down crying into his arms.
"Ryan's dead. He's dead, Oliver. I loved him and he's dead."
He feels his soul freeze before it's hacked apart by a hammer and destroyed. He holds her sobbing, shaking, broken body and feels her heart beat against his chest.
He doesn't know what happened to Ryan. Frankly, he doesn't care.
Oliver drops one hand to his pants and pulls out the gun. It only takes a few seconds to release the safety, put it against Marissa's head and press the trigger.
The blood from her fragile body is all over him, and he drops the gun as she lies limp in his arms. He doesn't know why he did it. Actually, he does.
He did it because she didn't really love him. He did it because she loved Ryan.
He did it because she lied.
-------------------
In case you're wondering, I'm not insane. I'm not even troubled. I swear! I just like writing about troubled, insane people. Also, in case you feel like asking me why I wrote this, I'll answer your question. I felt like killing Marissa, and I didn't feel like making it funny in "We All Killed Marissa". So this is what I came up with. Please don't call me a bitch or something. I like Marissa/Mischa as much as the next TWoP'per, but Mischa was really annoying me and I felt like hurting the fictional character she plays.