This is a Rita centric one-shot that I got the idea for after seeing the Spring trailer (So may be spoiler-y if you haven't seen that). I can't help but think there is more to Rita's relationship with Mark than we know and I've tried to go into that from Rita's point of view.
Once I started writing this it seemed to take on a life of it's own and I'm not sure if I'm 100% happy with it so I'd love to know what you all think.
TRIGGER WARNING: Themes of domestic violence and mentions of rape (nothing graphic or explicit)
She curled up on her kitchen floor, knees curled into her chest as she sobbed, she hated herself, she hated him. She hated him for coming back, for releasing every single memory that she'd bottled up over the past few years and she hated herself for letting him get to her, almost 2 years sober and he'd managed to undo all her hard work in less than 6 hours. She hadn't had much, she hadn't been able to, she'd tripped over her bag and dropped the bottle before she'd had chance to swallow more than a couple of mouthfuls of the clear liquid that had once been her most faithful companion.
That was how she found herself curled on her kitchen floor, not caring about the shards of glass from the bottle that she was laying on, not caring about the vodka that was soaking into her uniform after she'd left the department mid shift. She didn't care about anything any more, she just wanted to close her eyes, to wake up and find that this had all been a crazy dream. She knew that wouldn't happen though, she knew if she fell asleep she'd wake up still stuck in this nightmare, there was nothing that could change what had happened, nothing that could change how disgusted she was with herself.
She didn't think she'd ever move again. She wanted to move, to get up and shower, but she didn't have the energy, and she knew, she knew that no matter how hot the water, no matter how long or how hard she tried to scrub herself clean, she knew that she'd never be able to rid herself of the memories, of the thoughts constantly rolling around her mind. She'd never be able to wash away the voices, the images, the smells. She'd managed to push them away, build a wall so high she'd almost been able to forget they were there but now, now that wall had been smashed down and she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to rebuild them.
She'd been scared when Mark had approached her in the hospital, of course she had. It had been then the memories had come flooding back to her, the smell of whiskey on his breath as he'd grabbed her hair, the coolness of the wall against her back as he'd held her against it, the way his fingers curled around her neck leaving her gasping for breath... It had happened so many times before that Rita couldn't even distinguish today's events from those that had been a regular occurrence throughout her marriage. She thought she'd done so well, that she'd hidden everything perfectly, no one would ever know what Mark had done to her, but now she knew all too well just how fragile those walls had been, just how easily she, and they, would crumble.
Her tiny body shook with overwhelming sobs, she'd been so stupid, she'd spent the past few months thinking Iain loved her, convinced that she was finally happy but Mark had been right, she was a horrible person, and Iain was probably only with her until someone better came along, someone kinder, prettier, someone who deserved his love, someone who could give him everything he needed, someone who wasn't cold or heartless. Anyone but her.
It all made sense now, of course Iain had wanted an open relationship, of course he'd wanted to see other people without feeling like he was in any way betraying her. She'd been so stupid to ever believe that Iain loved her, how could he? How could anyone ever love someone as fucked up as her. She understood why he'd wanted to keep their relationship quiet, he hadn't enjoyed the secrecy, no, he'd been ashamed, ashamed to admit they were anything more than friends and colleagues. He'd rather everyone thought he was single than knew he'd been sleeping with her.
She felt like such a fool, she'd started to believe that Mark had been wrong, she started to believe that she wasn't worthless, that she deserved to be happy, she deserved to be loved but she knew, she knew now Mark had been right, there was only one thing a man would ever want her for.
Her heart broke a little more as she realised she was probably the reason for Mark's infidelity, she was the reason a poor child had been violated in the worst possible manner. If she'd had been a better wife, Mark wouldn't have had to go elsewhere, it was her fault he'd slept with one of his students, she'd been too busy focussing on her career to give her husband what it was her duty to provide. She should just have given Mark what he needed, she should never have argued with him, that way he'd never have had reason to simply take what he wanted, from her or from anyone else.
She couldn't help but think about the years she'd spent with Mark, the years she'd spent trying to hide bruises, trying to think of 'reasons' as to why she'd got cracked ribs or a broken nose. She hated having to lie but no one would ever understand that Mark was simply trying to make her into a better person. He'd tried to make her better and she failed him, she'd let him down and because of that a young girl had been hurt, she should have been the one imprisoned, not him. Mark had been trying to make her a better person and she'd only thrown that back in his face, she'd thought she'd be better off without him. She deserved everything she got.
She wished, more than anyone she wished she could go back in time, that she could do whatever it took to stop that girl being hurt, she wished she'd have given in, been a good wife and stopped Mark needing to find what he wanted elsewhere. She deserved it, every kick, every punch, every time she'd been thrown against a wall or dragged up the stairs there'd been a reason, if she'd have been a better wife Mark would never have had to do those things to her. If she'd have been a better wife his students would have been safe. She deserved it, she deserved everything she got but that girl… Rita would never forgive herself for what she'd made Mark do.
She needed a drink. She needed something to stop her thoughts, a way of turning her mind off, a way to stop herself replaying events not only from today but from the years she'd spent married to Mark. She was almost certain Iain had left some cans of lager in the fridge. It wasn't her favourite drink and it probably wasn't enough to get her as inebriated as she'd like but it was something and right now anything was better than the harrowing reality of sobriety.
She didn't get up though, she couldn't. Thoughts of Iain had fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, what if he felt somehow obligated to pick up the pieces, what if he felt stuck with her because of her mess, what if he was worried him leaving would break her more than she already was. It wouldn't. Rita already knew she didn't deserve Iain, she knew he deserved so much more than she could ever be. Maybe she should just leave, allow Iain to move on without guilt, to find someone worthy of being loved, someone he wouldn't be ashamed to admit to loving.
The thought of leaving only seemed more appealing the longer Rita laid on her kitchen floor amongst the shards of broken glass, there was nothing in Holby for her any more, Mark had made sure of that. She probably didn't have a job anymore, she'd walked out in the middle of her shift after all and Iain would never want her back, not when he found out what she'd done, what she'd let Mark do to her. She should have fought harder, she should have kicked, screamed, she should have done anything except give in and let Mark get his own way like he had so many times before. She'd spent so long trying to pull things together, trying to get herself sorted, trying to prove to everyone, herself included, that she could do it, she was strong, she was a good person, a good nurse, but now she realised, Mark had been right all along. Her facade had become transparent and soon everyone would realise how worthless, how useless she really was. She didn't deserve their pity and they shouldn't have to waste their time and energy pretending she was anything other than a cold, heartless fraud.
She thought about moving on, moving away, she'd done it once before, she'd escaped Mark and rebuilt her life, she'd picked up the pieces and started again, telling herself 'if you managed that you can manage everything.' She'd been wrong. It had taken insane amounts of energy, and copious amounts of alcohol to start again, to build herself a new life without Mark, then, from somewhere deep inside she'd managed to find the strength to get clean, to stay sober, to begin to enjoy life without a head clouded by alcohol but now, she couldn't do that again, she didn't have the energy to lift herself from the kitchen floor, she couldn't start over again. She knew, she knew Mark had finally won, there was no point her pulling herself together and beginning again for a second time, he'd find her, he'd wait until she'd managed to convince herself she was happy once again and then he'd come back, he'd remind her who she really was, remind her why she didn't deserve to be happy, remind her how she'd failed him as a wife, Mark would find her and make everyone realise just how disgusting she was, how she constantly, consistently ruined everything and everyone around her. No, Rita wasn't going to come back from this one, she was going to stay here, on the floor where she deserved to be. Maybe she'd get some sleep, maybe she'd ring Mark, beg him to forgive her, beg him to take him back, maybe she could be better this time, maybe she could be the wife he needed, maybe she could give him the son she'd refused him in the past, but she didn't deserve that, she'd been so awful to him, she didn't deserve him, she didn't deserve anyone. Rita didn't know what to do so she stayed, curled on her kitchen floor, cold, empty and alone and that was how she would stay because Mark was right, that was all she deserved.