Winifred could feel her heart shatter like glass. "Stop!" she screamed through the tears. "Please stop! You're hurting him!" She barreled herself against Luc, pushing him away only a few mere steps. She turned to Marcus, begging him to understand. "I-I was going to tell you! I just didn't know how- please! Don't look at me like that!" She cried.
The whole world tilted before Marcus’s eyes, everything blurring together; colours and sounds alike. Pain ravaged his whole body, but through it all he still reached out to Winnifred with a shaking hand. “Winnifred— I’m not— I’m not upset— upset because of you——“
Luc interrupted by grabbing a fistful of Winnifred’s dress and yanking her away. He sneered, stepping close to Marcus and slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, drove two fingers into his chest wound.
She grunted as she tumbled into the table. She pulled the hair from her face and watched as Luc probed Marcus's wounds. Her stomach almost emptied itself right then and there. She screamed once more. "Stop!" She yelled at Luc. "Please! I'll do whatever you want, please! Stop hurting him!"
(This is gory I’m sorry)
“Winnifred— NO——“ Marcus choked on his cry, blood spurting from his wound and spilling over the floor. He knew full and well what Luc was going to ask and he would rather die than let that happen. His treacherous uncle merely grinned and pushed his fingers deeper. Then, he withdrew them from the gaping wound, pulled the flesh over the opening up to widen it, and shoved all four of his fingers in.
Marcus screamed. He screamed until his throat was raw and he had collapsed against the man in front of him, shaking as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Winnifred don’t do it—“
Through all of this, Luc remained calm. “You were saying?” he asked Winnifred, voice dripping with glee.
(I can change anything above if you want me to)
((It is gory, but I'm okay with it…))
Winifred cried harder at his screams. He was hurting, in agony, because of her. This was the last thing she'd wanted. I shouldn't have came… she cursed herself. She covered her ears and fell to her knees.
Looking over at Marcus, silently, she begged his forgiveness. She was no longer listening to his pleas. If she didn't do something fast, he would die.
This is the only way…
Lifting her eyes to Luc, she breathed deep, her body trembling, her heart aching. "Please. Stop and let me help him… I'll do whatever you want."
"NO!!" Marcus yelled, voice breaking while his heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. "Winnifred NO— Luc— I'll do whatever you want– I swear— please– just don't touch her–"
But Luc had already turned his attention to Winnifred. A cruel, horrible smile hung off his lips. "Well, this is fortunate…. it turns out that the little sl*t is mine after all.." He pulled his fingers out of Marcus, drawing back and slapping his nephew across the face so that his own blood was smeared across his cheek.
"Firstly, you don't go to the police about this. I know who you are, where you came from, and that you are, in fact, an illegal doctor. If I hear a whisper about any of this from anyone other than you and my sorry excuse for a nephew, you end up burned at the stake for witchcraft after watching me torture him to death. Second of all….." His eyes travelled down the length of her body. "You know what I want."
Dread washed over her as she pushed Marcus's voice away. She found herself nodding. Her tears fell and hit the floor. "You must let me help him." She restated. "Now." Her lips trembled as she looked to Marcus. She was filled with pain and sorrow so grotesque, she could hardly stand it. But she was also filled with rage.
I hate you Luc Crenshaw. I promise that you will pay…
"NO– Winnifred— I'll do anything–" he sobbed, trying to rise and push back, but he was not a man anymore, but a being made of pain and rage and fear and desperation. And he was weak. So fucking weak.
Luc laughed in twisted delight, dropping Marcus into a wretched, bleeding heap on the floor and crouching down in front of Winnifred. He took her face into his hands, wiping away her tears while his nephew watched in agony, collapsing every time he tried to move towards them. "Fine. You can help him… this time."
Before he finished his sentence, she ripped herself away from him and crawled to Marcus. Placing her hand on his cheek, she silenced him. "Hey, hey, I need you to listen to me." She whispered, her voice hoarse and quiet. "Please, stop fighting it. I'm gonna be alright…My main concern is you. You need to be alright…" She leaned down and kissed him with soft, trembling lips. She swallowed as she looked at him. "I need to get my things, but I need you to stay still. Please."
Marcus opened his mouth to protest, to tell her to run as fast and far as she could, but nothing came out but a tiny whimper of pain. You are weak, Marcus Crenshaw. You can't even fight back to save the girl you love. He struggled to rise, but his arms just buckled and slipped in blood– his own blood– which sent him back down to where he belonged; the ground. "W-Winnifred–"
Luc watched from a few steps away, lips twisting into a sneer. So the patient loves his doctor… and the doctor loves him back…. Oh, this is going to be fun, tearing them apart.
"Shhhh…." Winnifred hushed him. She ran a hand through his hair. "Stay put. I'll be right back." She stood and shed her shoes. She had to be quick. She cast a deadly glare at Luc. "Do. Not. Touch. Him." She then turned and raced out the room, dress scrunched in her hands.
Throwing open her door, she turned that room upside down looking for her things. She gathered her things through blurry eyes. Her head pounded and she wanted to stop crying. Why was she still crying?
I just want him to be better….I wanted him to be mine…It's not fair! She began to sob.
Luc smiled down at Marcus, almost condescendingly. "Tsk tsk….. I thought I'd taught you to fight better than that~ …. You know that this is your fault, correct? If you had not interrupted my fun with that servant, if you had not gone and fallen in love, if you had been less of a pathetic weakling, she would be safe……"
By the time Winnifred returned, her face was steel. She carried her things with two hands and walk with speed. She ignored the slight warm that enveloped her feet as she stepped through Marcus's blood….his blood. It covers the floor like paint. She had wasted so much time trying to get herself together. If she didn't work as fast as possible, he would die.
So she worked surprising steady hands and narrowed eyes, disinfecting and restitching, wrapping and bandaging. A process she had gone through three times now. She gave faint smile as she pressed a cold rag to his newly repaired chest, cleaning the blood away. She wanted nothing more than to kiss that skin, now covered in white bandages. But she couldn't. She could bring herself to place her lips, the lips of a whore, on his precious skin.
Marcus raised a shaking hand to grasp her wrists, his spirit completely and utterly broken. "I'm so sorry for all of this," he said weakly, voice quiet and unsteady. "And thank you. For– for everything." He didn't have the energy to say much more. "You are– you are more than the place you came from."
((I'm gonna cry….))
Winifred gave him a sad smile. He was making it seem as if they were saying goodbye. Were they? Winifred didn't want to part with him. But did she really have a choice? This was their paths splitting right here and now. Nothing would be the same between them, It would never be.
She leaned close and pressed a kiss to him lips. "Don't limit yourself to what your mind perceives, it can be more of an enemy than a friend." And she release herself from him, physically, and emotionally. She felt tears spring up once more as she stood and looked away. "He'll need assistance getting back to his chambers." She told Luc, not bothering to look at him. He'd seen her cry enough for one night.
(Ack I’m already crying)
(Sobbing, actually)
(Shite)
Luc nodded, a satisfied smirk ever-present on his lips. Clearly taking great enjoyment in the scene before him, he pulled a cord by the door to ring for a servant. “Take him up with the servant, then.”
Marcus felt a darkness spreading through his soul. His heart was beyond broken, beyond shattered, it had been ground to a fine dust and left to decay and fade away. He let the servant help him up, not caring about the pain, not caring about all the blood around him. The first hallucination in days; blood dripping from the chandelier above, seeping down the walls and across the floor. The only thing that mattered was her. Winnifred. The name hurt to think about.
((I'm trying not to cry, since I'm in class… hugs))
Winifred followed after the servant that help Marcus along the way, her materials in hand. She wanted nothing more than to be the one he leaned against, bloody and all. She wanted to whisper sweet things to him and hold him as he slept. But that wasn't possible now. She had promised herself to….someone else…
(😭)
Marcus was a broken marionette made of pain and tears and splintered, decimated hope. He raised his eyes to Winnifred only once, but it hurt so fucking much, more than his torn-up chest, that his eyes spilled over with tears and he had to focus them back on the endless flood of blood that covered the floor, sloshing against the walls. I’m so sorry, he told her with his eyes that one time. I’m so, so sorry.
Winfred stopped just beside of the bed. Her eyes watched the servant's every move as he helped her into the bed. She kneeled at his side and placed a hand on his cheek. "Listen to me. If I'm not back before you wake, I need you to ring for a servant and eat, no more moving for you for the next week or so." She turned and rifled through her bag. Her medications were all labeled with her curly-cue handwriting, her little labels describing what the medication did in little phrases. She pulled out one labeled, "Night, Night!" And prepared a syringe. "I'm going to give you some sleeping medication."
Marcus’s eyes widened in fear. “No,” he breathed, hands trembling. “I’ll sleep. I’ll sleep— I promise.” He caught her hand in his, and it hurt. By god it hurt. “Stay a minute longer… I’m so sorry..”
Winifred lowered the syringe and placed it in her bag. She wanted to get up and leave, to turn and never look back. Why did she listen to his voice? Why did her heart force her to stay put and look at him? Why couldn't she leave?
Sighing, she pushed the questions aside. "I'm sorry too…"
“Why are you sorry?” he asked quietly, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. There was blood dripping down her face and off her chin, and he had to struggle not to reach forward and wipe it off— because it was fake. Because it would only hurt them both. “This is my fault. I— you should run. Climb out my window.”
"Climb out your window and go where?" she interrupted him. "If I leave I am marked a dead woman! And what is he going to do to you?!?" She fisted her hair in her hands and growled in frustration and anger. "I can'r lose you. Not when I've just gotten you, I can't-" She sobbed. "I can't…This is why i'm sorry Marcus."
Looking up at him, her heart stopped. Covered in blood, beaten, and bruised, all because of her. "I'm still going back to him. Until I figure something out I- I have to keep him sated. I don't care what he does to me, it's nothing I haven't felt before. My main concern is you! And as your doctor it is my occupation to keep you well and alive." She stood, her face full of resolve. "So that's what I'll do…"
Winnifred's face was the face of a woman who would not be stopped, not be swayed, and that scared him so much that for a moment, he couldn't breathe. "I've failed you. I should have been able to– I should have– there is so much I should have done. Don't do this for me," he pleaded, even though he knew it was futile. "Don't do this to yourself."
Winifred had built her resolve, but with each word, each plead, Marcus was knocking it down. She couldn't take it, so before he finished, she leaned down and pressed her kips to his. She kissed him with the passion and the yearning she had felt for him, with the desire that was meant only for him, with the pain and sorrow that consumed her….because of him.
Marcus's shaking hands found her cheeks and drew her closer– he needed her so much, so much and now he was about to lose her. His lips were desperate on hers, his voice was raw with emotion when he spoke. "I love you, Winnifred. I– I love you." He couldn't do this. Couldn't watch her let another man tear her apart…. for him. "I'm begging you– get out of this hellhole. If you can't do that for yourself– do it for me. Please. He is going to– I can't– he can't do that to you. Don't let him. I- I promise, I'll find you. Just run."
Winifred rested her head against his and shook. "I can't- He's – He's going to kill you! And you know it!" She fell to her knees once more. Gods, she couldn't walk away from him no matter how hard she tried.
She rested her head in the crook of his neck and held him close while she wished things could be different.
Dreams are a waste of time. Her mother had told her. While you waste your energy on dreams, reality sneaks in and leaves you for dead. Child, you need to wake up.
Marcus was too exhausted to stop the contents of his mind from spilling out. "He- He could kill you just as easily. And then– and then I'd kill myself. I've already tried a few times, it's– it's not that hard." He held her in his arms, fighting back tears and loosing the battle. "I can't– I can't watch him do this to you. You can't let him. You have to go."
Winifred shook her head. "No, no, no!" She refused to run, she refused to let Luc win and leave Marcus. "I'm not leaving unless you're coming with me." She stated, her words sharp. This was not up for discussion. Why would she abandon him?
"But– I can't come with you. Look at me, Winifred, I can barely stand. I'm pathetic." He grasped her hands in his bloodied ones, begging her to listen. "What– What if he gets you pregnant? What if you end up bearing his child?" His voice broke on the last word. "What if you died giving birth? And he's going to impregnate you eventually, he doesn't use— doesn't use control."