The Falling Falcon 2/?
Title: The Falling Falcon
Author: krissi2
Pairing: Marcus/Oliver, later: Adrian/Terence
Rating: PG-13
beta: gregisamazing. *loves*
Summary: Marcus has an accident and is not able to play Quidditch. Will he be able to deal with it and can he accept Olivers help?
Chapter: 2/?
Oliver entered the hospital smiling because he finally could escape the oppressive heat outside. The main-hall of St. Mungo’s was cold and he felt a lot better as his body temperature began to sink. He had to wait at the reception, because he had no idea on which floor Marcus was or in what room, so he stood directly behind a wizard with huge wounds that were glowing in different colours. It seemed that despite their size, the wounds didn’t hurt because the man was talking eagerly to a woman next to him; assuring her that he was ‘fine’ and that “Lulu” didn’t mean to hurt him. Oliver shook his head a little, looking to the ground smiling. It was fascinating what some creatures could do to humans.
After about fifteen minutes it was finally his turn. In front of him sat the receptionist; a lady in an old grey dress that could have looked pretty on her once upon a time. Her hair was a mixture of brown and grey and looked a little flyaway; though Oliver was sure she had combed it before going to work. Her eyes were fixed on the sheets of paper in front of her and as she looked up for a second he could see that she was exhausted; the black circles beneath her eyes were a dead giveaway. She looked up at him miserably and Oliver could sympathize with her. He wouldn’t want work at a hospital reception; seeing all the ill and sometimes even the slightly crazy people coming in and out and answering the same questions again and again every single day.
Though she didn’t even look at him for a long time he still kept smiling for her benefit. “I’m here to visit Mr. Marcus Flint. He’s here because of a Quidditch accident…” Then, she looked at him again for a second and Oliver wondered if she recognized him. But as she turned away again he knew she hadn’t.
“4th floor. Room 28. Next!” Oliver gave her one last smile and made off towards the elevators.
*********
Marcus was barely awake, even though he hadn’t slept for the last three hours. He was willing to bet that it was all the pain medication they had put him on. It had been a thick blue potion and now he felt really light-headed, though he was lying flat in his bed not trying desperately not to move. He wondered if they just had given him too much of it or if it was just a side-effect. Some hours ago the pain in his stomach had gotten unbearable for him and so he drank the potion without hesitating, despite it being one of the most revolting tastes he’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing. But even that didn’t annoy him anymore. What really did though was the state he was in. He felt as if he was unable to talk and wondered if he could sit up.
With all his power he tried to get into a sitting position but he couldn’t support himself. He sighed and gave up after his third attempt, because the world around him was spinning like after several consecutive ‘sloth grip rolls’ (A/N: this is a Quidditch move in where they spin upside-down to avoid a Bludger). He was thirsty and the water was right next to him on the nightstand. But he couldn’t reach it from where he was sprawled. Why was nobody here to help him? The stupid nurses got paid for it, didn’t they?
Next time he just wouldn’t say anything and endure the pain because surely it would go away at some point. But he couldn’t stand lying in a bed like a ninety year old cripple trying to reach a glass of water. It was embarrassing and made him feel weak.
Marcus turned his head slowly toward the door as he heard a knocking. Why now? Why did they come to visit him when he was lying here like a baby, not able to move or to talk? His life really couldn’t get any worse. And yet, it did. The door opened and Oliver Wood entered his room. He just stared at him wide eyed not quite getting what that idiot would want from him. “…You?” was all he could get out and his voice cracked like it would when he had too much Firewhisky. Wood smiled and Marcus would’ve just loved to raise an eyebrow at him but he didn’t even have the energy to do that.
Oliver had pulled himself a chair at Marcus’ bedside. “Aye, well I thought I’d pay you a visit.”
Marcus just continued staring at him, not able to find words to insult the former Gryffindor. He couldn’t find words at all, because every time he tried he felt like he falling, although that was impossible considering he was already lying there helplessly. “…Why?” He croaked.
“Well, don’t know really. Thought you could use some company.”
Marcus would have laughed but he wasn’t really in the mood for it. “Don’t need…. you, Wood!” And just to make his point clearer, he turned his face away from Oliver and instead found himself staring at the white ceiling above.
“Yeah, I figured that. But you know you don’t really look like you could kick me out at the moment.” Oliver laughed a little saying it and Marcus had the constantly growing wish to punch him in the face. His state was really not funny at all and that stupid laugh only made it worse. “What did they do? I thought alcohol was forbidden in the hospital?” Flint just rolled his eyes and was surprised that at least that seemed to work normally.
“Pain…medi...cation.” He ground out, now again looking at Wood.
“Oh… they gave you too much of it. At least that’s what it looks like. So speaking is not exactly easy, eh?” Flint just glared at him and Wood nodded. “Yeah… looks like it. Well, today was an article about you in the newspaper; an Interview with your trainer.” Marcus turned away. He didn’t need to know about his future and wasn’t really in the state to think about it now. “Hey they aren’t kicking you out. That’s positive. And you will be able to play Quidditch again. I’m sure of that!!! I mean it’s you! Sure you will be playing again!”
Marcus just glowered at him. “What…do you… want?!”
“Me? Nothing special! Just talk to you, I don’t like the thought of Marcus Flint lying alone in a hospital room. And so I thought I could stop by.” Marcus wondered when Wood had started talking so much; and why he hadn’t noticed it before. It really annoyed him.
******
Oliver was really worried about Flint. He always had thought of the other man as strong and confident. But now, as he saw him lying in that bed he was a little shocked. It seemed that Marcus wasn’t able to move much and he could barely talk. He wondered if the nurses knew what they where doing. He seriously doubted it.
“Do you want something to drink?” He saw the untouched glass of water on the nightstand. Marcus stared at him hesitating and Oliver bent a little forward to help Marcus sit up.
“Don’t need… help….from you!” Marcus said and he even knew he sounded desperate.
Oliver could imagine how Marcus felt and he felt a little guilty for coming here and seeing the former Slytherin like this. “Oh come on! I won’t tell anyone.” So he just grabbed him, not too hard, and helped him sit up. “You see. Not that bad!”
Oliver gave him the glass of water, which Marcus took with shaking hands.
He took a few big gulps and gave the glass back after it.
“Now… you can leave, Wood!” Marcus voice sounded a little better, now that his mouth wasn’t that dry anymore.
“Listen Flint, I’m here to help you and if you can’t accept that, I’m sorry. But I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t need help!” Oliver could see the change in Marcus’ eyes. He had seen it a hundred times in his life. Marcus got angry…Very angry.
“Yes you do, Flint! You need help! At least until you’re able to sit up on your own.”
“You’re acting like a mother hen!”
“Maybe you need one!”
Marcus was silent for a short time after that, not sure what to say or what to think. Why was Wood here? It wasn’t like him to visit him just so he could keep him company. That was simply weird.
“Why do you care?” He asked, recognizing that the medication began to lose it’s affect on his brain.
“Because I know how you must feel. Or at least; I can imagine how you feel.”
“You know nothing! What they say is bullshit! I’m not going to get back into the team! It’s just too much time that I’ll lose because of this stupid Bludger!”
Oliver looked at him and couldn’t help but feeling sorry. Because they both knew it could happen.
“You just have to work hard when you’re better. I mean you are the best… After me of course.”
Marcus just looked at him. “I’m better than you.”
“That’s the right attitude, even though you’re not!”
Author: krissi2
Pairing: Marcus/Oliver, later: Adrian/Terence
Rating: PG-13
beta: gregisamazing. *loves*
Summary: Marcus has an accident and is not able to play Quidditch. Will he be able to deal with it and can he accept Olivers help?
Chapter: 2/?
Oliver entered the hospital smiling because he finally could escape the oppressive heat outside. The main-hall of St. Mungo’s was cold and he felt a lot better as his body temperature began to sink. He had to wait at the reception, because he had no idea on which floor Marcus was or in what room, so he stood directly behind a wizard with huge wounds that were glowing in different colours. It seemed that despite their size, the wounds didn’t hurt because the man was talking eagerly to a woman next to him; assuring her that he was ‘fine’ and that “Lulu” didn’t mean to hurt him. Oliver shook his head a little, looking to the ground smiling. It was fascinating what some creatures could do to humans.
After about fifteen minutes it was finally his turn. In front of him sat the receptionist; a lady in an old grey dress that could have looked pretty on her once upon a time. Her hair was a mixture of brown and grey and looked a little flyaway; though Oliver was sure she had combed it before going to work. Her eyes were fixed on the sheets of paper in front of her and as she looked up for a second he could see that she was exhausted; the black circles beneath her eyes were a dead giveaway. She looked up at him miserably and Oliver could sympathize with her. He wouldn’t want work at a hospital reception; seeing all the ill and sometimes even the slightly crazy people coming in and out and answering the same questions again and again every single day.
Though she didn’t even look at him for a long time he still kept smiling for her benefit. “I’m here to visit Mr. Marcus Flint. He’s here because of a Quidditch accident…” Then, she looked at him again for a second and Oliver wondered if she recognized him. But as she turned away again he knew she hadn’t.
“4th floor. Room 28. Next!” Oliver gave her one last smile and made off towards the elevators.
*********
Marcus was barely awake, even though he hadn’t slept for the last three hours. He was willing to bet that it was all the pain medication they had put him on. It had been a thick blue potion and now he felt really light-headed, though he was lying flat in his bed not trying desperately not to move. He wondered if they just had given him too much of it or if it was just a side-effect. Some hours ago the pain in his stomach had gotten unbearable for him and so he drank the potion without hesitating, despite it being one of the most revolting tastes he’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing. But even that didn’t annoy him anymore. What really did though was the state he was in. He felt as if he was unable to talk and wondered if he could sit up.
With all his power he tried to get into a sitting position but he couldn’t support himself. He sighed and gave up after his third attempt, because the world around him was spinning like after several consecutive ‘sloth grip rolls’ (A/N: this is a Quidditch move in where they spin upside-down to avoid a Bludger). He was thirsty and the water was right next to him on the nightstand. But he couldn’t reach it from where he was sprawled. Why was nobody here to help him? The stupid nurses got paid for it, didn’t they?
Next time he just wouldn’t say anything and endure the pain because surely it would go away at some point. But he couldn’t stand lying in a bed like a ninety year old cripple trying to reach a glass of water. It was embarrassing and made him feel weak.
Marcus turned his head slowly toward the door as he heard a knocking. Why now? Why did they come to visit him when he was lying here like a baby, not able to move or to talk? His life really couldn’t get any worse. And yet, it did. The door opened and Oliver Wood entered his room. He just stared at him wide eyed not quite getting what that idiot would want from him. “…You?” was all he could get out and his voice cracked like it would when he had too much Firewhisky. Wood smiled and Marcus would’ve just loved to raise an eyebrow at him but he didn’t even have the energy to do that.
Oliver had pulled himself a chair at Marcus’ bedside. “Aye, well I thought I’d pay you a visit.”
Marcus just continued staring at him, not able to find words to insult the former Gryffindor. He couldn’t find words at all, because every time he tried he felt like he falling, although that was impossible considering he was already lying there helplessly. “…Why?” He croaked.
“Well, don’t know really. Thought you could use some company.”
Marcus would have laughed but he wasn’t really in the mood for it. “Don’t need…. you, Wood!” And just to make his point clearer, he turned his face away from Oliver and instead found himself staring at the white ceiling above.
“Yeah, I figured that. But you know you don’t really look like you could kick me out at the moment.” Oliver laughed a little saying it and Marcus had the constantly growing wish to punch him in the face. His state was really not funny at all and that stupid laugh only made it worse. “What did they do? I thought alcohol was forbidden in the hospital?” Flint just rolled his eyes and was surprised that at least that seemed to work normally.
“Pain…medi...cation.” He ground out, now again looking at Wood.
“Oh… they gave you too much of it. At least that’s what it looks like. So speaking is not exactly easy, eh?” Flint just glared at him and Wood nodded. “Yeah… looks like it. Well, today was an article about you in the newspaper; an Interview with your trainer.” Marcus turned away. He didn’t need to know about his future and wasn’t really in the state to think about it now. “Hey they aren’t kicking you out. That’s positive. And you will be able to play Quidditch again. I’m sure of that!!! I mean it’s you! Sure you will be playing again!”
Marcus just glowered at him. “What…do you… want?!”
“Me? Nothing special! Just talk to you, I don’t like the thought of Marcus Flint lying alone in a hospital room. And so I thought I could stop by.” Marcus wondered when Wood had started talking so much; and why he hadn’t noticed it before. It really annoyed him.
******
Oliver was really worried about Flint. He always had thought of the other man as strong and confident. But now, as he saw him lying in that bed he was a little shocked. It seemed that Marcus wasn’t able to move much and he could barely talk. He wondered if the nurses knew what they where doing. He seriously doubted it.
“Do you want something to drink?” He saw the untouched glass of water on the nightstand. Marcus stared at him hesitating and Oliver bent a little forward to help Marcus sit up.
“Don’t need… help….from you!” Marcus said and he even knew he sounded desperate.
Oliver could imagine how Marcus felt and he felt a little guilty for coming here and seeing the former Slytherin like this. “Oh come on! I won’t tell anyone.” So he just grabbed him, not too hard, and helped him sit up. “You see. Not that bad!”
Oliver gave him the glass of water, which Marcus took with shaking hands.
He took a few big gulps and gave the glass back after it.
“Now… you can leave, Wood!” Marcus voice sounded a little better, now that his mouth wasn’t that dry anymore.
“Listen Flint, I’m here to help you and if you can’t accept that, I’m sorry. But I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t need help!” Oliver could see the change in Marcus’ eyes. He had seen it a hundred times in his life. Marcus got angry…Very angry.
“Yes you do, Flint! You need help! At least until you’re able to sit up on your own.”
“You’re acting like a mother hen!”
“Maybe you need one!”
Marcus was silent for a short time after that, not sure what to say or what to think. Why was Wood here? It wasn’t like him to visit him just so he could keep him company. That was simply weird.
“Why do you care?” He asked, recognizing that the medication began to lose it’s affect on his brain.
“Because I know how you must feel. Or at least; I can imagine how you feel.”
“You know nothing! What they say is bullshit! I’m not going to get back into the team! It’s just too much time that I’ll lose because of this stupid Bludger!”
Oliver looked at him and couldn’t help but feeling sorry. Because they both knew it could happen.
“You just have to work hard when you’re better. I mean you are the best… After me of course.”
Marcus just looked at him. “I’m better than you.”
“That’s the right attitude, even though you’re not!”