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The Manor was quiet. Not a sound in the house, as almost nothing stirred. This might’ve been expected as there were only two occupants, but they were quite often pretty noisy. So the silence was unusual. Something different had happened that day.
This really only lasted a few minutes, maybe not even that. It started the moment black goo started falling from Mark’s eyes, mouth, and nose. Y/n immediately stopped what they were doing upon seeing this. Then him dropping to his knees, the open wounds covering his chest bleeding. They couldn’t take it. They just booked it, running out of the living room, up the stairs, and into the nearest room.
It was one they had never entered before, and it seemed Mark hadn’t been inside in forever. Dust covered every surface, everything was messy. Sheets strewn about, photographs knocked off a shelf, a table covered in all sorts of things. Y/n was just about to approach a photograph they saw on the ground before a booming voice rang out through the whole manor, seemingly placing Mark everywhere at once. Panicking, y/n dashed into the closet and closed the door, leaving just a small crack so they could look through if need be.
It was rather small, strange considering the size of the house, but there wasn’t much in it anyway. Just a few old suits and robes that were weirdly clean. Several suits that were the only things in the room that had been touched recently.
“I know you’re around here somewhere, kitten. Come out, i just want to talk!” he called in a sing songy voice. This time it was more distant. Y/n was safe for now.
Mark’s voice continued to sound in the manor with mocking taunts, until they went farther than that. He began to grow desperate, frantic. He sounded genuinely upset.
“Where did you go? Why did run?” he was getting closer. There was sadness in his voice. “Why are you leaving me, kitten? You’re just like Celine!” his voice broke at the last part, yet it was also the loudest. He was outside the door.
He changed again. Y/n could practically hear the smirk the smirk in his voice. “Oh, kitten... hiding in my old room? That’s just cruel.” he states, his tone teasing again, yet still serious. He pushed the door open, the squeak of it filling the room. He steps in as he speaks again, walking very slowly. It’s threatening even if he’s hardly doing anything. “So many memories, and you’ve decided to remind me. Decided to become a repeat of the past, even.”
All this time, y/n was glued to the closet door, eye peeking through the small bit of space between the door frame and the actual door. From what y/n could see, which wasn’t much considering the room was dimmed due to the blinds being closed, he was completely covering. His robe was soaked through, both black and red covering various areas of his body. Yet he still carried himself like he was the greatest in the world. Like he could do anything.
Then he was standing right next to the closet door. “Come out from wherever you are. Don’t be like them, don’t hurt me like they did!” he said. His hand was on the handle, he was about to pull it open, when he suddenly froze. Something had caught his eye.
Y/n had to hold back a sigh of relief as they watched him walk away and toward an object off to the side, right by the bed. The baby crib. Y/n watched as he placed his hands on it, leaning forward and taking in a shaky breath.
“I had everything, you know... and everyone just ruined it.” another one of his tangents. Y/n had heard these many times before, but this one was more emotionally charged. There was more meaning in it. “Celine cheated. William was the one she cheated with. Damien knew and didn’t tell me because he thought I deserved it. I shouldn’t be suffering! I haven’t done anything to bring this upon myself, I’m too good!” he exclaimed.
Mark stopped suddenly. He had caught sight of the photo on the ground, and the several others littering the table. Y/n took this opportunity when he was distracted to try and get out of the room unnoticed by Mark.
“Oh, when times were good. Just our nice little group of very close friends. We used to all like each other, we used to not hurt each other. I thought I had found happiness again, that I’d have a good life, but it seems my little kitten is trying to run away!” he shouted, turning suddenly and catching y/n in the act of trying to sneak off. “You’re not leaving. It can’t be like last time.”
Y/n gulped and slowly backed away from the door that they had only just opened, flinching as it shut behind them.
“Tell me the problem.” he said, slowly walking towards y/n. His voice was falling back to the broken one from before. “What have I done wrong?”
They gasped as he reached a hand out to them. It was completely covered in blood and goo. He didn’t seem to realize, or at least recognize the problem with it.
“Love me, I deserve it.” he stated, still walking towards them. He was trying to keep his composure, but tears wear already starting to fall. He was breaking down.
Y/n didn’t know what to do, but their movements were automatic. They held out their arms without even thinking and Mark immediately fell into them, clinging onto them like his life depended on it. He full on sobbed into their shoulder.
Somehow, they found that they weren’t fazed by being covered in what he was. Comforting him was more important at that moment. They felt bad for running, and either way he was still in an awful state. They wanted to help him.
He was muttering quietly, his hold on y/n getting tighter to the point where it hurt. It wasn’t enough to do any actual damage, but being stuck there with an already slimy man was hardly comfortable. Still, they stuck it out. For mark.
“Please don’t leave me, not like Celine did. I’ll do anything. I just want you here. I love you.” This, among others things, was what Mark repeated over into her ear, hoping to get her to stay. He didn’t realize she had never planned to leave.
It was rather bizarre to see Mark go through so many mood shifts in such a sort amount of time. Or was it short? Y/n didn’t know how long they were in that closet. It’s could’ve been minutes, could’ve been hours. He still had never been like that.
“Mark...?” they asked softly as they held him. He shook in their arms, a total opposite of the man that was just walking around the room and seemingly ready to hurt someone. He was just broken and in need of support. Someone that loved him.
More repeats of “promise you’ll never leave me” are heard over and over as y/n gently runs a comforting hand up and down his back, responding each time with “I promise I’ll never go, I love you”.
Though he was clearly not all there. Even so, y/n’s constant reassurances were evidently getting through to him. He was calming down. His initially painful grip on them loosened, but he still didn’t let go. He likely wouldn’t for a while, so y/n slowly sunk down to the floor and just held him there as he continued to cry.
Mark eventually calmed down. Y/n could tell he had by the way he slowly looked up at them with an apologetic look and muttered out a small “I’m sorry”.
“It’s okay, Mark.” they whisper, petting their hair. They pressed light kisses to the side of his head.
They knew what was happening now. Next time would be better.
