YOU WAITED TOO LONG - MARLON JACKSON
synopsis: after marlon notices you’re missing at one of the victory tour shows, he begins to worry…
c/w: angst, comfort, brief mentions of self-harm
pairing: marlon jackson x f!reader
1984, los angeles — 10:03 pm
even in a crowd of thousands, your presence was profound to marlon.
if you were in the nosebleeds, he’d be able to spot your full-toothed smile. if you were a speck of dust traveling in the wind, he’d be able to pluck you from its harsh current.
your absence carried that same weight.
which is why he was in this predicament.
the jacksons were halfway through their first show of the victory tour in la, performing hits that had the stadium rumbling like a tsunami was afoot. although marlon initially was against taking part in the tour, the opportunity to sing alongside all of his brothers was something he subconsciously yearned for.
call it childhood conditioning, i guess.
the first hour and a half of the show had been filled with genuine excitement from the fans and even more enthusiasm from the jackson brothers. tune after tune, the brothers flowed into each other’s rhythms like an interconnected dance. the crowd was elated, his brothers were enjoying themselves, and most importantly, joseph wasn’t complaining.
and that was enough to get them through another night.
except progressively throughout the night, marlon felt uneasy.
because as he performed and danced with reckless abandon, he kept glancing towards the vip section: the sectioned-off area of the venue designated for the friends and family of the jackson family. he recognized all the faces: girlfriends to his brothers, friends of his parents, and even his own rowdy nephews.
he saw the radiating smiles and sweaty, glistening faces of everyone he knew and cared for.
in fact, you hadn’t been there the whole show from what he could see. it scared him more than he willingly let himself acknowledge.
were you mad at him and decided not to show up? were you running late? that couldn’t be possible, the show started 90 minutes ago.
he felt himself quickly trailing down a tunnel of worry and unease.
as the thoughts permeated every inch of his mind, he felt himself being tugged by the arm. he quickly returned to reality, only to find randy pulling him off stage for intermission. once he got a grip on the situation, the lights glaringly bright and the fans' screams piercing through the air, he suddenly became eerily aware that he was still being perceived.
while his brother’s laughed as they skipped down the backstage tunnel, marlon was in an irreversible silence. an eery but all-consuming silence that they had yet to pick up on. he continued to feel his insides caving in in uncertainty; a weird mix of nausea and indignation at your absence.
wherever he was being pushed and pulled, he didn’t complain. instead he followed along like a docile puppy in training. makeup artists and set designers zipped past him, pushing carts filled with makeup products and costumes. the stadium continued to roar as the fan’s became restless as they waited in anticipation for the second half.
yet he didn’t care. shit, he barely even noticed.
not even when he was finally pushed into one of the makeup chairs for touch-ups. not even when his makeup artist started reapplying his concealer and eyeliner, taking a mental note at how he was completely spaced out.
the makeup artist gave him a concerned look, but didn’t press him. as she added more blush to his already reddened cheeks, marlon squeezed his right hand into fists, his nails cutting into the palm of his hand. he looked like a sponsor of adderall with the way his knees bounced against the chair in restlessness.
while he was seemingly distracted, he almost missed the way that michael’s security guard, bill bray, tried to duck from his attention as he walked by. the burly man was the last person who should be attempting to hide behind a clothing cart, only adding an element of conspicuousness to his presence.
marlon immediately sensed something was off.
“yo bill,” marlon started. bill immediately stilled at the familiar voice. the clothing cart rolled past as bill stood awkwardly in places with his hands at his sides, avoiding marlon’s eyes. “can i ask you something?”
bill looked up from the ground, his fingers now anxiously twitching as he bit his lip. he nodded, sauntering toward marlon at an unhurried pace to center his breathing.
by the time he made his way next to marlon’s chair, the young dancer was already dubiously eyeing him. “uh, you good man?”
bill was already nodding his head aggressively before marlon could finish his question.
marlon’s gaze narrowed further at his skittishness. “uh, okay.”
the makeup artist sensed the unease in the air, leaving the sectioned-off area to the two men.
“bill,” marlon cut through the air. bill’s gaze trailed from the ground to marlon’s intense eyes. “where’s my girl man? she was supposed to be here damn near two hours ago,” marlon asked, his voice slightly hoarse.
bill’s eyes widened, and though he thought he was slick, marlon caught the way his face morphed into discomfort.
like he was hiding something.
“she’s on her way, marlon,” he replied, curt and pensive. just as he was about to walk away, marlon caught him by the wrist.
“bill, she would’ve been here by now. what’s wrong?” he stared up the bodyguard with wide, imploring eyes. “is she okay?”
bill gulped aggressively. anxiously.
bill looked to both sides before inching closer to marlon, almost as if he was disclosing top secret information. marlon felt his skin crawl at the movement. “bill-”
“look, joseph instructed me not to discuss this until after the show, but she was-”
“boys!” joseph’s voice loudly interrupted amidst the chaos that was the backstage tunnel. “my money-making machines!”
marlon couldn’t help the way his eyes rolled at his father’s presence, even though he couldn’t see him yet. but he was still undeterred. “come on bill, she was what-”
“marlon,” his father’s voice interjected, a lot closer this time. marlon looked to his left to find his father already peering at bill and his proximity, like he could smell the secrets being divulged between you two. “i called you.”
bill naturally took a step back at joseph’s grueling presence. similarly, marlon straightened his posture like an army general.
“sorry joseph,” marlon mumbled, but he was still distracted.
“mhm,” joseph’s eyes narrowed in skepticism. “anyway, you oughta fix that glum look on your face. we got thousands of people watching you boy.”
marlon soon noticed the way his brothers crowded around their father, inches behind him like they were afraid of being chastised. marlon only nodded, hiding the way he closed his hand into another tight fist, seeking the agonizing pain of his nails sinking into his skin.
he needed something, a tantalizing distraction. one to get his mind off your absence and another to avoid throwing an uppercut to his father’s jaw. he was not in the mood for this right now.
joseph immediately looked away from marlon and started speaking to his brothers at large. he went on another proverbial rant about the importance of delivering top-tier performances each night, the unity of the jackson brand, and how much was weighing on the concert ending well.
as joseph continued his superfluous rant, one that neither marlon nor his brothers were actually listening to, marlon swiftly reconnected eyes with bill who was already staring at him.
“where is she?” marlon mouthed to bill, only to be met with the shake of the grown man’s head. one that indicated to wait until joseph had finished his incessant complaints and nitpicking of the first half of the show.
after a few more minutes of drawn-out grievances, joseph dismissed the brothers for their ritual five-minute intermission break. one that provided little-to-no time to actually recover from the previous performance. the brothers quickly disbanded to their own custom-tailored rest areas. bill swiftly trailed behind them, hoping that marlon wouldn’t catch on.
but again, he wasn’t that slick.
“bill, wait,” marlon stopped him in his tracks, lightly wrapping his fingers around his wrist. “where is she?”
bill turned to look at him, his body now facing marlon in a way that was unfamiliar. mimicking the behavior of a teenager caught sneaking out, bill’s shoulders were slumped and his eyes drooped. marlon only grew more anxious at the sight of the usually brawny man now sulking like a deer caught in headlights.
“please,” marlon softly pled.
bill looked around before taking a step closer. he lowered himself just slightly before speaking. “marlon, she’s been in a car accident.”
and suddenly, as quick as a light switch flicking off, the color drained from marlon’s face. he felt like he was being closed in like a vise; that his immediate surroundings were closing in on him in an expeditious rate. the nearby chatter from makeup artists, producers, and venue workers merged into a tornado of noise that made him increasingly flustered.
he felt his chest actively hollowing inwardly as he started to imagine where you were, what had happened, and if you were okay. marlon’s mind was whirling with images of you on a stretcher, bruised and injured, and alone.
marlon’s immediate submission to his dissociation caused him to miss the way that bill worriedly called his name like a mantra, hoping to calm him down. he missed the way that his brother, randy, appeared by his side in an utter state of confusion. he subsequently missed how randy’s face dropped at the news once bill updated him on your whereabouts.
marlon felt utterly hopeless and devastated, only stuck with mental images of you in despair without being able to be by your side.
he felt like an utter asshole. how could he be performing for all of these people while you were injured? i mean, it was his job, of course, and he loved his fans. but in moments where receiving paradigm-shifting news such as this mentally tortured him beyond belief, the concert gimmick felt entirely too superficial to adhere to when he should be with you instead.
he wanted to throw up. he slowly started to regain his balance and grounding in reality when he felt randy relentlessly shaking him. “w-what?”
“i said we have to go to the hospital, man,” randy exasperated, his eyes frantic and his body language uneasy. “she’s probably waiting for you.”
marlon looked back to bill to see him anxiously rubbing at the top his head, presumably stressed that he delivered this news in the middle of a high-stakes show. “look, we can go after the show, but right now-”
“boys!” joseph reappeared, this time stepping in between the two brothers. he grabbed at both randy and marlon’s shoulders like a grounding technique, although it did nothing but make them physically cringe. “y’all ready? the fans are thrilled for the second half.”
marlon and randy exchanged a look of anguish, both at the news they just received and their father’s piercing grip at their shoulder.
“what’s the matter with y’all?” joseph asked.
marlon took a deep breath, bracing himself before looking his father right in his blank eyes. “look joseph, i don’t think-”
“you don’t think what?” joseph’s deadpan expression made marlon go mute. marlon nervously looked back at his brother, only being met with the same apprehensive silence.
joseph watched them both in ridicule before sardonically laughing at their nervous antics. “this because of that girl?”
marlon felt his body tense at the way his father treated your accident as something trivial, something unimportant.
of course his dad knew about this and chose to not let marlon know. in typical joseph nature, his own interests and endeavors surpassed marlon’s every time. because to joseph, nothing took more significance in his and his sons’ lives than the money they racked in for him.
“boy,” joseph started. marlon felt himself shrinking into himself at his father’s pending degradation. “the only place you need to go is up on that damn stage. you’ll go to the hospital after the show.”
“that’s final.” before marlon could conjure up a response, joseph was already spinning on his heel and headed to his designated holding area. marlon and randy awkwardly stood side by side, avoiding each other’s gaze in slight humiliation.
joseph’s controlling demeanor always had a way of slighting marlon’s control over his own choices, over his own life. he was getting sick of it, especially now that you were god knows where, injured and possibly alone.
“i’m sorry son,” bill pitied, squeezing marlon’s shoulder in support. he walked off shortly after, leaving randy and marlon to themselves in desolation.
the fans’ chants got increasingly louder as intermission came closer to ending, signaling the start of the second half of the show.
“come on, man,” randy dejectedly ushered marlon back to their placements below the stage. as they found their markings on the ground, the jacksons threw on their typical charming smiles. the other brothers, however, failed to notice the fabricated smile and reformed facade that marlon quickly rebuilt.
because that’s what marlon was good at: faking it.
all he could do was pray that the ladder half of the show would pass by quicker than the first; that a car would be prepped and ready for him to leap into to make his way to you.
how was he supposed to get through this concert knowing that you were hurt?
you’re not sure how many more times a pillow could be fluffed before it is officially deemed comfortable.
or rather, uncomfortable.
because between your mom’s incessant pillow fluffing and your brother’s constant tucking of the bedsheets into the corners of the stiff hospital bed, there was nothing more that you wanted than to go home.
“- i mean, how can he even be on stage when you’ve been through something like this,” your mom rambled, pacing across the hospital room in annoyance.
“no, i don’t want to hear it,” she quickly cut you off, adding a finger to get the point across.
you glanced at your brother in one of the rigid hospital seats, imploring him for help through your eyes. he only shrugged with a playful eyeroll.
your mom continued. “i’m serious, baby! he should be able to make time for his career and his woman. he’s a grown man, he needs to be here with you.”
you adjusted in your spot on the hospital bed just slightly, wincing during the process. your mom halted in her place, your brother and dad watching you expectantly before you eased back against the stack of pillows. their nerves subsided at the sight of your comfortable sigh.
“mom, you know how his father is,” you lightly crossed your arms across your chest. “it’s not his fault, please try to understand that.”
your mom huffed in response, sinking into the hospital room chair right next to your dad. you offered a sympathetic smile to hopefully ease her worries, only to be met with a playful eye-roll.
almost as if on cue, your younger brother rose from his seat to the edge of the hospital bed. “how are you feeling sis?”
the unmistakable worry in his tone pulled at your heartstrings, your eyes softening in tandem. you reached for his hand on the bed, your thumb skimming over his knuckles.
“i’m okay, dalen,” you softly smiled. “my ribs just hurt.”
dalen’s face faltered at the reminder of why the entire family was in the hospital this late in the first place. “i swear when we catch that asshole, i’m going to kill-”
“-we’re going to handle everything the way the lawyers would want,” you calmly interrupted, bringing a hand to soothingly rub his arm.
of course your brother was upset. your entire family was both mortified and distraught at the fact that you were in a hit-and-run that left you this physically wounded. in this much pain…
but what could you do? like, for real?
you were upset too. one minute, you’re chatting with the chauffeur on the way to see your boyfriend perform for thousands, and then the next you’re being slammed into by a ford truck in the backseat. of course it’s a miracle to be alive, but goodness lord how you wished you could’ve just not gone in the car today.
just as you were about to spew a few sympathetic words of solace, the door flew open.
and in landed the man of the hour.
“oh my gosh, are you okay?” randy desperately interrogated, now running to your side of the bed and collapsing on top of you. dalen quickly weaved past randy’s leap to the bed, narrowly missing being crushed. “i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry that this happened and that we were late and-”
your parents sat up in their seats to yank him off of you, but you faintly gestured to them that it was ok. the crushing weight on top of your bruised ribs was uncomfortable, but you didn’t have it in you to pry him off of you. he continued to berate you with questions, doing nothing but laying flat on top of your body like you were a part of the bed.
weirdly, the pressure was comforting…or maybe it was the genuine concern oozing from him.
“randy, i’m okay,” you chuckled, your hand rubbing against his back in circular motions. your eyes drifted to the doorway where marlon still stood, gripping the doorhandle like it had personally offended him.
his face held an expression that you’d never seen on him before.
“hi marlon,” you meekly greeted while trying to analyze how he was feeling. he gave you a sympathetic smile, fingers fidgeting at his sides as he scanned your entire body. from where he stood, purple bruises bloomed on your face and a few stitches adorned your right cheek.
he was at a loss for words.
“come in,” you offered. “there’s space at the end there.”
he didn’t budge, opting for the comfort of the flickering cold light of the hallway. randy twisted in his position where he was sprawled on top of you, looking back at his brother. “come in man, taking too damn long and for what!”
marlon hesitated before taking a few brief steps inside, shutting the door sluggishly slow behind him.
“took you long enough,” your mom chided, arms crossed in fake defense at marlon’s tardiness.
“mom!” you quietly scolded. “please, stop.”
marlon still remained a respectable distance from where you lay on the bed. he looked you in the eyes, intensely, like he was fighting to say something. anything.
but out of nowhere, the most conniving smirk formed on his face like a cartoon villain.
“damn ma, you still look good even in a hospital gown,” he joked.
you felt your cheeks heat as you grinned up at him. he was such an idiot, an adorable idiot, you thought to yourself. everyone else in the room had an adverse reaction, unfortunately for marlon.
“that’s the first thing you say to her, really?” your mom scoffed, arms tightening across her chest. your dad mimicked her movements, his face morphing into a scowl.
randy shuffled on the bed, now sitting up straight as opposed to being plopped like a hibernating bear. he stared at his older brother in befuddlement, before shaking his head in disappointment. “be serious right now, mar.”
marlon shuffled closer just a smidge, the smirk still ever-present on his lips. “come on man, i can’t compliment my girl? even after a car wreck, she still looks sexy as-”
“don’t you dare finish the end of that sentence,” your dad stood from the creaky hospital chair. he now marched towards marlon with his index finger pointed like he was personally attempting a wwe reenactment. “now you have some damn nerve coming in here, acting like this when my daughter is still clinging to the bed like some psychiatric patient.”
your father was fuming, his lips tightened in untameable fury. it was the angriest you’d seen him all night. you deduced it was redirected anger at your physical injuries and current circumstances now manifesting against marlon’s sarcastic persona.
“sir, sir,” marlon lifted his hands in faux surrender, a pervasive grin still adorned on his lips. “i didn’t mean to cause a fuss, just trying to lighten the mood.” the mischievous spirit that marlon entered the room with seemingly doubled at your parent’s reactions.
“i just wanna make sure my girl know she’s fine as hell, with or without the gown.”
at this, your brother was flying from his place by the wall now nose-to-nose with marlon, threatening him. “aight man that’s enough, you better watch yourself before i-”
“guys, please stop,” you weakly interjected, shifting in the bed to lie more straight against the stale pillows. “he’s just-”
“he’s just what?” your brother scowled, eyes still trained on the jokester ahead of him. “joking? he’s treating your accident like it’s some of game, like your life wasn’t on the line.”
the room was… tense. to say the very least. your parents and brother now crowded marlon like they were escorting him from a bar. randy only watched from his place next to you on the bed with an unaffected expression, like he was used to this.
“dalen,” your tone was succinct and stern, enough to get your brother to take a step back from marlon. “can we please have the room?”
dalen finally looked at you, eyes still laced with irritation. “but he’s-"
with a huff, dalen stomped to the door like a child who’s just been sent to his room. he flung the door open with unnecessary force, leaving it to swing widely for his parents to follow suit, not without a scowl thrown marlon’s way. your boyfriend only itched at the back of his neck in discomfort.
“randy, you too,” you nudged the young man’s shoulder as he sat motionless at the foot of your bed. he looked back at you with imploring eyes, almost as if to say ‘please don’t make me leave, i promise i’ll be like a fly on the wall.’
you playfully narrowed your eyes in response. thankfully, he got the hint, rising from his seat and pitifully trekking to the door, closing it gently behind him.
you were now only accompanied by the slight overhead buzz of the fluorescent lighting and a now disassociated-looking marlon.
“marlon,” you spoke into the unfiltered silence. he didn’t look up at you, instead choosing to find interest in the unevenly spotted dots on the sterile floor. "come here, please."
he finally glanced at you, the same mischievous grin decorating his features. "what, you want some good lovin' in the hospital? shame, woman!"
"marlon, stop," you implored. the gravity of your tone was enough to make his smile waver, just barely. in a way that he hoped you didn’t notice, but, it’s you for god’s sake.
here’s the thing... marlon joked.
you knew this about him. it was something you’d grown used to and even grown to love.
in times where laughter consumed the environment, his quips only added to the fire of bubbling joy. in times of despair, where ruminating in his melancholic thoughts became too much, he found sarcastic remarks to be his only comfort.
which could only explain what just took place.
because what your family saw as antagonizing and slightly offensive remarks, you saw a man trying to cope with the reality that he could’ve lost someone he deeply loved. what they perceived as humorless jokes, you saw as a fabricated attempt to hide his downcast eyes and grief-stricken pain.
what marlon lacked in dealing with emotionally heavy situations, he compensated for in jokes. his unsuccessful wisecracks at your expense were not only a desperate attempt at making you feel better, but also to find an emotional outlet to suppress his feelings of sorrow.
and just like a hammer to a mirror, his comedic facade broke completely. and you recognized the look of desolation that he entered the room with, slowly consuming his entire body once again.
“baby, come here,” you waved him towards you. he finally dragged his feet like it physically pained him before arriving at the left side of your bed, now standing directly over you.
“are you ok?” you asked, now gazing directly up at him.
he let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. “i’m the one who should be asking you that.”
“yeah? well i’m asking anyway,” you chided, earning another laugh from him.
in your periphery, you saw his left hand squeezing into a fist, his nails digging deep into the soft palm.
“stop that,” you softly urged, reaching for his hand and enveloping it in your grasp. he looked down at where your hands met, an overwhelming level of subservience that forced him to loosen his tight grip.
he playfully scoffed. “even when you’re in pain, you’re still taking care of me.” his eyes were still downcast at your hands, refusing to look you in the face. from where you sat, you missed the way his eyes quickly glazed over in tears.
“marlon i know you’re upset-” you took a deep breath to stabilize yourself. “and i know this was unexpected but-”
“no baby, you don’t get it,” he roughly interjected, leaving you in a stunned silence. “this-you, i-it’s just-” he stammered, his voice oxymoronically shy compared to just moments before.
“what?” you asked. his eyes were drooped down, avoiding your wandering gaze. "take your time, baby."
you wrapped your left arm around his waist, drawing him impossibly closer to you without threatening to hurt your bruised sides. he brought his right hand to cradle your face protectively, inching you closer to his chest.
you felt him suck in a deep breath before speaking. “my whole life i've been told what to do and when to do it. and i never complained, i just went along with it because that's what joseph conditioned me to be like. and as much as i hated it, joseph's control has clearly been good for me... for my brothers. but you-"
he choked on his words, a strangled wail caught in his throat. you looked up at him against where your head lay on his chest. his fingers lowered from cradling your unbruised cheek to tilting your chin up, now compelling you to look him in the eyes. tears threatened to spill over his water line as he looked down at you like you were his most precious keepsake.
"you're the one part of my life i feel like i do have a say in, the one part of my life that feels completely mine. so having to hear about you a-and the accident and do nothing but perform while you were here without me," he hiccuped, wiping at the tears that were prone to spill any second.
his eyes were glistening with building tears akin to the moonlight casting its glow along the roof of the ocean. "it made me realize that this is all my fault," he choked again.
your eyes softened around the edges of his stiffened figure as he lamented over his regrets. "marlon, how could this possibly be your fault?"
a tear finally spilled over his waterline, cascading beautifully down his face in a way that paintings wish they could capture. he sucked in a deep breath before admitting his deepest inhibition. "because my dad controls my life and i can't control yours."
your eyes widened at his confession. to an outsider looking in, marlon's admission would sound entirely too territorial to sound remotely normal.
but it finally dawned on you.
joseph's perpetual control over marlon and his brother's lives has, for the most part, been benefical to the family. they moved from gary to california, became one of the highest-selling music groups in the world, and are so financially well off that the next three generations are set for life.
but joseph's dominion didn't extend to you, marlon's did. and marlon has never had a say in anything in his whole life. so when he finally does, he doesn't know how to handle it. how to protect it.
hence, your accident today. he thinks that because whenever he gets to choose anything for himself, it's bound to go sideways.
it's twisted, really, how marlon thinks that the only way things can go right in his life is at the hands of his father. no matter how much anger he carried towards him for never letting him have agency over his own life.
the deeper part of his internalized agony with himself was not because he was forced to perform while you were in the hospital, but because he didn't have the authority over his own life to say no in the first place. no to having to perform after hearing about your accident, no to the concert in the first place.
"marlon, never once in my mind did i harbor any feelings of doubt or anger at you for the accident or for not being there with me when it happened," you began, your eyes filled with pity at his despondency. "this accident, with or without joseph, could've happened."
your hand squeezed around his fingers where they were still interconnected. "this wasn't your fault, none of this is your fault."
his eyes harbored the quiet intensity of someone whose walls were slowly crumbling. not from weakness, but from a willingness to acknowledge that, just like his father, he couldn't control everything. and he was slowly accepting that.
“i just can’t,” he choked on his words, a strangled cry threatening to rip from his throat. “i can’t stand to see you like this.”
your heart shattered completely at the sight of him.
as quick as it began, his silent tears transformed into full on wails. his shoulders aggressively shook at his head fell at the emotional weight of seeing you like this.
“oh baby,” you cooed, feeling your own eyes start to dampen profusely.
you began rubbing soothing patterns against his back to calm him down. but instead, he opted for sliding to his knees. he completely collapsed to the solid ground beneath you both, his head nestling into your lap as he sobbed.
"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he rattled through choked sobs, his shoulders shaking against you where he lay. he wrapped his arms around your waist as he continued to utter apologies and promises of becoming a better man, a better protector for you in the future.
but still, as hopeful as he’d become to protect you physically and emotionally, you knew his dreams were too far gone. because there was no way he’d be able to break free from the inescapable grip that his father had on him, no matter how badly he wanted it. his dynamic with his father was a toxic relationship that you had no place dismantling, despite how badly you wanted to.
"it's ok," you murmured, your hand rose from his lower back to his shoulders, adjusting to his newfound position on top of you. even in a state of distress, he was unbelievably gentle with you.
you spent the remainder of the evening coaxing him through his wailing, fighting back your own tears that threatened to spill over.
a/n: one thing about me imma write something depressing lmao! for @1lvie <3
