X Reader Oneshot Book

[Actor!Mark x Reader] I'll Be Here

[This oneshot is dedicated to the gorgeous Lunafromamino! I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for your patience.

Light TW: Subtle Implied Mentions of Suicide (Nothing Graphic)

If you think this topic will trigger or upset you in any way, I suggest you skip this oneshot and go grab some water. Stay safe, happy, and healthy, lovelies!]

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, the doorbell falling on deaf ears. "Come on..." She muttered, pressing it again, to no avail. She looked around. All his cars were in their places, his driveway was undisturbed. But his lawns were over-grown, no longer the perfect inch and a half he insisted they be at. The grounds were silent, not even a bird daring to disturb the tension. Like the house itself lay dormant.

Sighing, she reached into her bag, pulling out a key she hoped she'd never need to use. The front door swung open with ease, and she left her bag in its familiar spot, hanging her coat on the coat rack. Her spot was vacant, always waiting for her to return, but something was missing. "Mark?" She called into the halls, getting a box from her bag. "You home? I brought food!" Yet again, the house stayed silent, her voice echoing off the marble floors.

A horrible feeling settled deep in her gut. She dropped the food in the kitchen and went from room to room, Mark's name falling over her lips. Her pace quickened, along with her heartrate as she raced into one of the living rooms, finding her friend sprawled over a couch. Even in her panicked state, Y/n noted that it was one of the rooms he never used, unless you count adding to the square footage as a use, which Mark certainly did.

She rushed forwards, knocking over shattered bottles, dropping to her knees and desperately feeling for a pulse. A couch immediately came from the man, pushing her backwards lamely. Y/n's eyes widened as he turned his head, staring at her from beneath his lowered eyelids. His face was covered in congealing cuts, running across what was once carefully manicured skin. A snort came from him, draping an arm over his eyes. "Ugh... what are you doing here, Y/n?"

"Welfare check." Y/n stated simply, no room for argument. "What are the staff?"

"Gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" Mark rolled over, face buried into the couch, his famous dressing gown the only thing keeping him warm.

"I sent them away." Y/n sucked in a breath.

"Ok... and where's-"

"Gone." Her heart broke.

"Oh, Mark..." Gently, she turned him back over, helping him to sit up. He glared at her with no real malice, before immediately throwing up into a potted plant. Y/n patted his back, watching her friend groan into the ceramic pot, before she went back to the kitchen.

She riffled through the cupboards, eyeing up the expired food, and grabbing the painkillers. "Almost gone..." She lamented, unease settling in. She shook her head, taking the box off the counter, along with the painkillers and a huge glass of water back to her friend. Mark was back on the couch, semi-upright, but she knew his head was spinning.

To say he was worse for wear would be an understatement.

"How long have you been sitting here?" Y/n asked, pushing the glass into his hand. He snatched the painkillers.

"Don't know." Y/n stifled the urge to roll her eyes, watching him take the pills. The sense of dread from the kitchen settled into her bones again, permeating her whole being. He finished the glass, wiping his face with a red sleeve. Y/n shook her head, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"I'll wager you haven't eaten for a while, then. Well, luckily for you, I am an excellent best friend." She set the box down on his lap. "Your favourite." He opened the box, poking at the pastries inside.

"Not hungry."

"Don't care. Eat." Reluctantly, he raised one to his lips, taking a small bite, eyes lighting up just a smidge. Before she could blink, he'd wolfed it down, reaching for another. While he was eating, her eyes drifted to the scabbing on his face, and their eyes met. His gaze soured, putting a half-eaten pastry back in the box.

"Celine." He muttered, in response to her unasked question, setting his food aside.

"What the hell?" It tumbled out before she had a chance to stop it, and his head lowered, staring intently at a cracked tile.

"I didn't want her to leave..."

Y/n eyed up his hands, watching them clench and unclench, balling up his dressing gown. The shaking much resembled the tremble in his voice, tears spilling over his cheeks. "She was cheating on me, you know." He sucked a breath through gritted teeth. "She resented me, regretted marrying me out of college. She became absent, bitter, over the years. I-I-I thought I could convince her to love me again. She always looked so happy when she came back from visiting him." Y/n moved to sit next to him, rubbing his back. "I watched the light die in her eyes when she looked at me. But I... I couldn't let her leave."

Silence fell between the pair for a moment, Mark trying to control his breathing, emotion flooding through every part of him. "Damien came to pick her up. She told me she was never coming back and I-I panicked. I grabbed her arm, begged her not to leave. I hurt her..." His hands stopped moving, coming to rest on his knees, holding on for dear life. "I hurt the woman I loved, and she retaliated. I-I wouldn't, couldn't let go, and she grabbed the closest thing she could find. She smashed a vase into my face and I fell back, knocking myself out. When I came to, she was gone."

Y/n was silent. She didn't have a clue how to respond, except to pull him against her, hugging him tight. The floodgates opened, Mark sobbing into her chest, muffled screaming reaching her ears. His hand latched onto the back of her shirt and didn't loosen as she held him close, rubbing his back, whispering comforts.

Soon enough, his breathing slowed a little, tears drying. They sat in the emptiness of the house, just holding each other, until Mark spoke. "Why are you still here?" He asked, almost a whisper. Y/n sat him up, his eyes drifting to the couch.

"What are you on about?"

"I'm a monster." His voice was level, reserved. Empty. "I drove the woman I love away, I hurt her, I made you worry, and for what?" Their eyes locked. "I have driven every friend I've ever had away! Why won't you leave?!" Pleading. Y/n put a firm grip on his shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eyes, to really look.

"Celine cheating on you wasn't your fault, Mark. She made a choice. And, sure, you made some mistakes during your marriage, so did she, but in the end, it wasn't meant to be." Her grip softened. "You're my best friend, and you took care of me. You helped put me through law school for god's sake! It's only fair that someone takes care of you too."

Mark's expression barely changed, falling back into her arms, mumbling thank-yous and apologies. Y/n put her head on his, rubbing his back, being his rock until he could sit alone again. His face was ragged, overgrown and tired, a far-cry from the arrogant cake face she used to see on set.

A lopsided smile graced her face, squeezing his hands. "You go and shower, ok? Use one of the guest rooms, I'll leave the clothes out on the bed." He nodded, eyes cast to the floor. "Then, we'll take care of your face. I'll order some proper food, and we can watch your favourite drama shows, and I promise not to complain. No matter how annoying they are." She chuckled, drawing a huffed laugh from Mark.

"Half the fun of watching them with you is hearing you complain."

"Aww, Mark, you old softy."

"Takes one to know one." A smile darted across Mark's face, a smile returned by Y/n.

With a final squeeze of Y/n's hand, Mark stood from the couch, a bit wobbly, but upright. "I'll be back."

"I'll be here."