summary: marcus wasn’t supposed to ever feel this way, for this very reason
a/n: request by @lanternlupin for my 100 followers celebration : “one of them gets in a near death situation and how the other deals with it”
the thing is that marcus has always known that this was a possibility. always in the back of his mind. every time oliver pulls something a little too risky on the pitch. marcus berates him for it afterwards, screaming and throwing his hands about wildly, “you have kids now! think about something, but quidditch once will you?” and oliver will laugh and ruffle marcus’s hair, call him his favorite cheerleader and kiss him, still high off the win. and marcus loves him for it. he loves the fact that oliver never quite grew out of the invincible mindset they all had as kids at hogwarts. that was before something like this was plausible. it was always a possibility, but too far away for either of them to touch. until now, he supposes.
marcus spent the first couple of days so, so angry. he had watched from their reserved box as oliver dives for the quaffle, both hands stretched out to grab it. he leans too over just a bit too far and slips. it’s all too fast. even with the spells to break his fall, it’s too late. the fall knocks him unconscious. everyone in the box is screaming. oliver’s sister, camila, is hysterical. aiden, who is six years old and finally old enough to come to the matches is pulling on marcus’s robes, crying, “dad, is daddy okay? why isn’t daddy flying?” their friends who’ve come to watch are in various states of shock, asking what the should do. marcus, though, can feel his blood boiling. he’s furious. he mumbles to camila that he’ll be back, to please watch aiden. he makes it down to the pitch, pushing people to the side, exclaiming, “that’s my husband, move!” he bursts through the crowd of healers attending to oliver and yells, “you idiot! you complete sodding idiot! i told you to be careful! i always tell you!” he has to be dragged away by oliver’s teammates fifteen minutes later when the healers decide that it’s time to move oliver’s body. marcus can’t even see oliver being taken away through the tears that he hadn’t realized had started flowing. he spends the next few days pacing oliver’s room at st. mungo’s, lecturing him as if he could hear it. most people are deeply disturbed by the fact that marcus is reacting this way, there’s even a nasty article about marcus’s outburst in quidditch weekly. he doesn’t care. he told oliver. he told him to be careful.
it’s day nine of hearing, “we’re still not sure, he could wake up any moment. he could not wake up at all,” when marcus is too tired to be angry anymore. he spends all his time curled up in the chair next to oliver’s bed, playing with his hand and hoping his fingers might curl around his the way they used to. leaving, even to shower or eat, doesn’t seem worth it with the voice in the back of his head whispering, “what if you miss something?” he’s found that even sleeping doesn’t bring him peace. not when oliver’s not with him, radiating body heat that makes him sweat and hogging all the pillows. somewhere in the back of his mind marcus feels bad for camila. he can’t bear to look at the kids right now, he sees oliver in all of them and he’s too tired to explain why daddy isn’t home. what marcus keeps thinking is about how he swore this would never happen. that he’d never get so close to someone to feel this way. it’s not so much that he didn’t think he was capable- like everyone else thought. it’s just that he grew up in a war. he saw his friends lose everyone they were close too. lost a few people himself. he remembers the look on his mom’s face the day that she got the letter that the dementors in azkaban had killed his dad. and so he swore that he’d never give anyone that type of power over him. he would never love someone so much that losing them would be his downfall. he grips oliver’s hand tighter because he knows he failed and losing oliver would hurt more than anything he’s ever fucking felt.
on day twenty, marcus goes home again. he’s been bracing himself to see the kids again, but somehow he doesn’t feel the wave of pain he expects when he sees aiden’s eyes, melanie’s smile, riley’s messy hair. (he doesn’t know how, even with no genetic relationships, they’ve all managed to look just like oliver. but maybe that’s just marcus’s opinion) instead, he smiles for the first time since the accident and hugs them each individually until they’re wrestling out of his grip. life goes back to a sense of normalcy after that. marcus makes some calls and arranges things so that he can work from home. camila still stops by to help every couple of days, but things are okay. marcus doesn’t touch oliver’s side of the bathroom sink, even though it’s a mess, and his side of the bed is exactly how he left it, but marcus manages to brush his teeth and get out of bed everyday, so it’s progress.
day fifty-one is going by without event until marcus picks aiden up from the wizarding primary school he’s just started this year and aiden passes him a flyer for little leagues quidditch with those pleading eyes and marcus can’t seem to speak for the rest of the night. he calls camila to come watch the kids, “it’s an emergency”, and the fact that marcus hasn’t asked for this favor in weeks has her at the house within minutes. marcus packs a bag and spends the night at st. mungo’s, sobbing and gripping oliver’s ever-still body, hard enough that it’s confirmation for marcus that he won’t wake up, because there’s no way oliver wouldn’t be in pain in this moment. but more importantly, oliver would never let marcus go through this alone. the realization amplifies his sobs and grips ten-fold. it’s just that marcus never thought of himself as a dad until oliver mentioned that he wanted a family and, honestly, he didn’t even know if he could handle it until the night aiden cried for two hours straight and oliver finally figured out how exactly to rock him back to sleep. and he knows that oliver’s been dreaming of aiden’s first match ever since they brought him home and he knows that aiden’s been waiting almost just as long, so, it’s just a lot. he returns home the next morning with waivers signed and he kisses aiden on the forehead before his first practice and his voice breaks when he asks him to be careful. by the end of the practice, his hands are almost bleeding from the places he’s been digging his nails in, and he’s come close to having aiden pulled out about a dozen times, but he keeps reciting, it’s what oliver wanted.
camila tells marcus that it’s morbid to have a running tally of the days since oliver’s accident. marcus doesn’t know how to explain to her that looking at all the days he’s lived since is the only way he manages to make it through another. the number has reached a hundred and twenty-eight with no signs of change, according to the healers. by now, just about every professional marcus can find has sat him down and told him the exact same thing, that oliver’s condition is unlikely to improve and at this point, even if he does wake up, he likely will have suffered severe deficits and would be unable to live a normal life. marcus knows this. knows that it’s going to be time to say goodbye soon. he tells himself every day, looking at his husband that he wouldn’t have wanted his life savings to go to keeping him in this state. that he would’ve wanted his family to have peace.
they’re just under a year when marcus brings the kids to meet the rest of oliver’s relatives, and a few of marcus’s own, too. they whole lot of them gather in oliver’s little hospital room. marcus has explained everything in the best way he can. this doesn’t make much sense to any of them, but he knows they’ll understand when they’re older, and this he just has to accept for now. they watch as the healers slowly undo every spell that’s allowing oliver to hold onto his life. every time, marcus has to hold himself back from asking them to stop. once all the spells have been taken off, the doctors explain that oliver’s body will only be able to support itself for a couple of minutes before - marcus cuts them off. they all know what will happen. oliver’s parents say goodbye first, his mother leaves the room weeping and marcus thinks that the only thing worse than losing a husband is losing a child. everyone in the room has their final words with oliver before they leave him alone with marcus. it’s a moment that marcus has thought of every day for 358 days. so many different versions of this scenario and what he’d say. what his final words to the love of his life would be. in the end, he doesn’t even hesitate before blurting out “you did it, you know, wood. never thought i’d love someone like this. told you i’d never love you like this, didn’t i?” marcus manages a dry laugh. “what an idiot i was to believe that. it’s a damn shame you couldn’t stick around longer to keep proving me wrong. but you will, you know. every day, i realize that i was so wrong to think i’d never love you like this, wood.” the last sentence is spoken in barely a whisper, a kiss pressed to oliver’s cheek before the life finally leaves him.
hi, everyone! i’m super excited because i just hit my first hundred! i know it’s not a crazy amount of followers, but as someone who started this blog this month and fully expected it to flop, i’ve been awestruck at how well received it’s been! to thank you all, i’ve decided to do a little celebrating!
rules
please reblog! likes don’t count
must be following me
optional, but everything i make is here and i’d be thrilled if you checked it out!
send me an ask with up to three of the things below!
(tagging all of this as #kelc + 100 if you wanna blacklist it!)
- your name for name aesthetics
- your favorite quote (hp or not!) for a url edit
- a ship + a prompt for a one-shot/drabble
- your favorite emoji for a blog compliment
- your favorite character for a blog rate (details below the cut)
and if this flops let’s all pretend it didn’t happen, but please don’t let this flop
blog rate format
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