Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Written for Hogwarts Assignment 7, Career Advice, Quidditch, Prompt 3: An Abusive relationship.
Trigger for abuse and suicide.
Beta'd by the lovely Lo.
Word Count - 1740
Playing On Repeat
Marcus straightened his tie in the mirror, taking in his appearance. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was paler than it had ever been. The black suit he was wearing only exaggerated the effect.
His hair was limp, and his eyes dull. He looked dead.
He felt it.
Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned to the bed that he'd been sleeping in alone and picked his wallet up, stuffing it in his pocket.
The sun shone through the window, taunting him.
It was a beautiful spring day.
Marcus hated it. He hated all of it. He hated everything.
Walking through the house that was now only his, he entered the kitchen, his hands twitching towards the bottle on the side. He knew he shouldn't but he wanted it.
Anything to ease the pressure in his chest.
Anything to make the weight on his shoulders that little bit easier to bear.
…
A gentle hand stroked through his hair. Marcus felt his eyes sliding shut, but he didn't bother to fight it. Oliver was warm and he made a very comfortable pillow.
"Don't go to sleep, baby. We'll be going to bed soon."
The soft voice brought Marcus back a little, and he blinked up at his fiance. Sitting up, he felt his foot hit the table and turned his head fast enough to see the glass of wine Oliver had poured him fall to the floor, spilling all over the white carpet.
He was about to laugh when he turned to see Oliver glaring at him, his face like thunder.
"Dammit, Marcus! You have got to be kidding me! Are you stupid? You're a hot mess, you can't even sit up without fucking something up."
Marcus blinked, staring at Oliver in shock. Never before had Oliver shouted at him like that. Pulling his wand out, he cast a quiet cleaning charm, erasing any evidence of the spill. He stood, without looking at Oliver and after bending to pick the glass up, he left the living room for the kitchen, rinsing the glass by hand.
Arms wrapped around his stomach, and soft lips pressed to his neck.
"I'm sorry, baby," Oliver whispered. "You know I didn't mean. I've just had a stressful day."
Marcus nodded mutely.
"Come on, let's go to bed. Let me make it up to you."
…
The car was waiting for him, Marcus could see it through the window. He didn't want to get in it. He didn't want to go to the planned destination.
He took another glance at the whisky bottle.
One sip wouldn't hurt, would it?
…
"Where the hell have you been?"
Marcus blinked, hanging up his robe. He glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering if he'd somehow managed to lose track of time.
But no. It read the same time as it did when he got home from work every day.
"I was at work," he replied, confusion colouring his tone.
As he approached Oliver, he could smell the whisky on his breath. He hesitated, suddenly nervous.
Oliver snorted. "That's always your answer, isn't it. Do you think I'm fucking stupid? You're out shagging someone else, aren't you? Admit it!"
The last two words were nothing short of a roar, and spittle landed on Marcus' cheek.
Marcus took a step back. "I've never cheated on you," he replied quietly. "Not once."
Oliver rolled his eyes, laughing humorlessly. "You're a fucking liar, Marcus Flint. You should be ashamed of yourself. Get out of my goddamn sight, you're a mess."
…
Marcus climbed into the back seat of the car, the sound of the music on the radio jarring him. A man was singing about losing the love of his life and it made Marcus feel nauseous.
"Could you turn the music off, please," he requested quietly.
"Of course, Sir. My apologies."
Marcus waved him off, pulling his seatbelt around himself. As soon as it clicked into place, he felt as though there was a vice around his chest.
He couldn't breathe.
…
They'd had a wonderful night out with their friends. Marcus couldn't keep the smile from his face as he walked through their home, Oliver on his heels.
"Do you want another drink before bed?" he asked, turning to look at his husband.
"You were flirting with them."
The words were quiet, but the look on Oliver's face immediately put Marcus on his guard. He shook his head slowly.
"Flirting with who? Olly, I was with you all night."
"I fucking saw you, don't deny it!"
"Oliver -"
"I. Said. Don't!" Oliver shouted, his fist swinging up to meet Marcus' jaw.
Unexpected as it was, it knocked Marcus to the ground. Oliver leant over him.
"Without me," he hissed, "You're nothing. You need to remember that, Marcus. Without me, nobody would give a fuck about you. You're mine. Fucking act like it."
…
"Sir?"
Marcus blinked at the driver. "Yes?"
"We're here, Sir."
…
The abuse got worse. The good days got less and less, and Marcus was constantly walking on eggshells, awaiting the threat of Oliver's temper. It appeared more and more.
Marcus thought about leaving, but the thoughts never got very far. Oliver was right after all. Who else would want Marcus?
He'd always wondered at the attention Oliver showed him. He'd thought the kisses and the dates had all been too good to be true. He'd thought it was all a joke.
And then he got comfortable.
He let Oliver make him feel safe and secure and loved.
And then it was all pulled out from beneath him, and Marcus was left stranded in this odd space between love and hate.
He loved his husband.
He hated his husband.
…
Harry and George were the first to greet him. George shook his hand, patting his shoulder comfortingly, while Hary hugged him.
Marcus forced himself not to flinch at the contact.
"Come on, mate. We should get into place."
They led him to the front of the growing crowd. With every step he took, Marcus felt number. It was a relief in some ways, the reprieve.
In others, it was a bad reminder.
…
Oliver pushed through the bedroom door, stumbling as he did so. He was drunk again, a more and more frequent occurrence.
Marcus flinched when Oliver sat down on the bed.
"I know you're awake."
The voice was soft and gentle, thick with emotion. Marcus didn't trust it. He didn't trust anything anymore.
"Marcus… I'm sorry. I'm a bastard, and you don't deserve the way I treat you. And… I'm sorry. I don't… I don't know how to stop, Marcus. I've got a problem, and I don't know how to fix it. I don't want to hurt you, I don't, but I just get so angry and… I love you. I know it doesn't seem that way. I know you must hate me. And I know that I keep making mistakes and fucking up. But I love you, and I want to be better for you, but I don't… I don't know how."
Marcus listened with silent tears falling down his cheeks as Oliver sobbed himself into a drunken slumber.
The day after, Oliver broke Marcus' jaw.
…
The service was a blur. Marcus barely registered the words that were spoken, the lies that spewed through the ignorant lips of their friends and family.
Words of a loving spouse.
Words of a perfect relationship.
Words of a kind hearted man that wouldn't hurt a fly.
All lies.
Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on the picture of his husband. The smile. The laughing eyes. The mauve tie that Oliver refused to get rid of for years and years. That was the Oliver Marcus wanted.
That was the Oliver that he'd lost a long time before Oliver died.
It made Marcus want to laugh.
It made Marcus want to cry.
…
Marcus wasn't sure what to expect when he returned home from work. Would Oliver be drunk? Would he be happy?
Was today a good day or a bad one.
Of anything he expected, he did not expect what he found.
He did not expect the still body of his husband.
Nor did he expect the note of apology and love.
He didn't expect the relief and the grieve simultaneously raging war on his body and mind.
The healers came when he called for them. They wrapped the body up. They offered Marcus calming potions and cards with the contact details for therapists.
They asked him if there was anyone they could contact for him.
They asked him how he felt.
…
"How are you feeling?"
"I feel… small," Marcus replied. "And I feel empty. And I feel like I can't breathe."
Harry offered him a sad smile. "You know we're here for you, mate. I can't imagine what you're going through."
Marcus glanced at George. No. He didn't suppose Harry could know what Marcus was going through. Harry could be secure that George loved him. That he cherished him. That he'd never hurt him.
It'd been a long time since Marcus had had that guarantee.
…
"It's not your fault that Oliver took his own life," the therapist said quietly. "I don't want you to feel any guilt for his actions, and I'm sure he wouldn't either."
Marcus wanted to laugh.
"Oliver was clearly a disturbed individual, and it's a tragic shame that nobody managed to see that in time to help him, but it wasn't your fault."
Marcus wanted to cry.
"We're all here to help you," the therapist added.
Marcus thought he should ask for her name. He hadn't listened when she'd offered it to him the first time.
He decided he didn't care.
"Was Oliver different in the weeks leading up to his death?"
Marcus shook his head mutely.
"Was he temperamental? Moody? Was he drinking more?"
Marcus shook his head. Because Oliver had been all of those things, but it hadn't been anything new.
She asked more questions. He didn't have any answers to give her.
He didn't know why Oliver had chosen then to kill himself.
He didn't know why Oliver chose anything. He didn't know why Oliver did anything.
He'd learnt lately that he didn't know Oliver at all.
...
Marcus stared at the closed coffin.
It was over.
And yet…
Oliver was still there. In his head.
The word useless was playing on repeat in Marcus' mind.
Written for;
Character Appreciation - 23. Oliver Wood
Disney - C3. Piglet - Someone feeling small.
Creature Feature - Dwarf - "I feel small." and Unicorn - "You should be ashamed of yourself."
Book Club - Mad Sweeney - Temperamental / Getting Drunk / Mistake
Days of the Month - Only Queer Characters
Buttons - O4. Wallet
Ami's Audio Admirations - 20. Threat
Lo's Lowdown - C1. Bruce Banner - Someone with anger management.
TV Addicts - 13 Reasons Why - Losing someone to suicide / disturbed / confession
Easter Bingo - 1. Problem
Easter Basket - Shredding construction paper - Something being different beyond the exterior
Auction Prompt - Radio
Scavenger - 3. Prompt Set - Mauve / Spring / "You have got to be kidding me."