Summary: John becomes violent. Mark needs a break.

It was a lazy, rainy evening in London. There was a thunderstorm outside and drops of water were falling from the sky in masses. Nothing unusual in London. There was a loud roar of thunder and a small child jumped in its bed every now and then when lightning struck. But the thunder was not the only noise that evening. In a small apartment in London's East End, there was quite loud screaming. Mark Knopfler, the guitarist and singer of the band Dire Straits, was the cause of these loud screams. The 36-year-old man sat crouched on the apartment's red sofa and covered his face with shaking hands. Tears ran down his shaved cheeks and looked almost like the thick drops of water rolling down the window panes.

"You're useless!" John Illsley, the band's bassist, shouted angrily. He was a 1,95 meter tall man, almost 12 centimetres taller than Mark, which represented a considerable height difference between the two. They had been a couple for years and lived together in an apartment. What had been a peaceful and beautiful relationship for years, however, changed for quite some time. Since John's father had died, he was constantly angry. He screamed and hit Mark. He also drank a lot more alcohol than before. Mark never said anything about it, for fear of making the man, who was three months older than him, even angrier. "You're the worst boyfriend there is!" John shouted angrily. He had complained that Mark hadn't ironed his laundry and this had made him more and more angry.

"I'm sorry." Mark whimpered, pulling at his hair as he whimpered. The days of laughter were long gone for the couple. Mark spent most of his time crying. He didn't have enough tears, he wanted to cry so many. "I'm so sorry. I don't want you to think that you have to do everything alone." Mark sobbed, looking at the taller man with tear-filled eyes.

"You're absolutely useless!" John shouted angrily and threw a vase at the guitarist. The guitarist ducked, whimpering, but the glass vase shattered when it hit him on the head. Mark sobbed weakly as blood ran down his temple. "I fucking hate you! You're so useless and you'll never do anything about it!" Mark took a shuddering breath.

"I can't do this anymore." He said quietly. "I can't do this anymore, John." The guitarist stood up on shaking legs and walked towards the bassist. "You're going through a rough time. You miss your dad and you're grieving. I understand all of that." Mark stood in front of the bassist and looked up at him with teary eyes. "But, darling, please. Stop drinking. Stop. You're not just hurting yourself, but both of us. You're hurting our relationship, I..."

"I'll drink as much as I want, bitch!" John shouted angrily and pushed Mark away. The guitarist fell to his knees and sobbed weakly. "You don't get to tell me what to do, damn it! Iron my laundry and take care of the house!" Mark took a deep breath.

"I need a break." He said shakily, pulling himself up, tears still streaming down his cheeks. "I need a break from all this." John looked at him angrily. "I can't do this anymore. You're hurting me, John. And I've let it go on for far too long." Mark walked past John, shaking, and put on his coat.

"Where do you think you're going!?" John shouted angrily.

"I'm going to a hotel." Mark said quietly. "Sober up. Then we'll talk tomorrow." With that, the guitarist closed the door quietly behind him. John let out an angry scream and threw a bottle on the floor.

*

The next morning, the band met in the studio. They had finished their successful world tour "Brothers in Arms" and were meeting to record a new album. Terry Williams was sitting behind his drum kit, happily twirling the drumsticks in his hands. Next to him stood Guy and Alan, the two keyboard players. Mark was sitting silently on a chair drinking tea when John entered the studio. He was carrying his bass in his hand and was walking towards the group.

"There you are, buddy!" Terry exclaimed enthusiastically. "We were wondering why you were taking so long! Are you sober?"

"Unfortunately." John said quietly and put his bass down on the floor. "So, what's on the agenda?"

"Nothing. We're trying things out. New album, you know." Alan replied with a smile and pressed a key on the keyboard.

"Well then let's get started, now that we're complete!" Terry exclaimed enthusiastically and hit the toms.

"Wait." Mark said quietly. It became quiet and the friends looked at him in surprise. "I have to tell you something first." When Mark raised his head, John gasped sharply. The entire left side of his face was blue and swollen. There was a plaster stuck to his hairline.

"What happened to you?" Asked Terry, shocked. Mark let out a sigh and slowly stood up. He walked towards the group.

"I have to tell you something important." The guitarist took a shaky breath. "We're world class, guys. We released a damn good album and played one of the biggest world tours in history. We won prizes, awards too. We played at Live Aid and immortalized ourselves."

"What are you trying to say?" Guy asked quietly.

"I... I think it's time to stop." Mark said, biting his lower lip.

"What!?" The friends all shouted in horror and started talking at once. Mark raised his hand and they fell silent.

"It wasn't an easy decision. And I... it still hurts to say it, but I think it's better this way."

"That's not possible!" Terry exclaimed in horror. "We're damn good! We can't just quit!"

"But I have to." Mark said, his voice choked with tears. He took a shaky breath and tried to continue speaking, but instead only sobs came out of his mouth. Alan immediately ran to Mark's side and pulled him into his arms.

"Whatever it is, we can do this, buddy. We're a band. Whatever is bothering you, we're going to change it."

"Not this time." Mark said quietly and sniffed.

"What is this really about?" Terry asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're not the type to quit in the middle of success, Mark." Mark took a shaky breath.

"Look at me. I'm at the end. Totally mentally exhausted. When I started this band 8 years ago, I was excited about playing guitar. Now...now I'm just a wreck of what I once was."

"Mark..."

"My decision is made." Mark said firmly. "I have to do this. For myself. Please, don't be mad at me. Please understand. I have to do this for myself."

"It's because of John, right?" Guy suddenly asked quietly. Mark's eyes widened. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"What do I have to do with it?" John, who had remained calm until now, exclaimed angrily. "I didn't know anything about it!"

"I'm right, aren't I?" The keyboard player repeated quietly. Mark lowered his head and nodded silently.

"What the hell does that mean!?" John screamed in horror.

"John." Mark walked towards him. "John, I love you. That's no secret. Everyone in this room knows. I love you with all my heart, but I can't do this anymore. You've changed, John. When we met 8 years ago, you were a different man."

"You're the one saying that." John growled angrily.

"Please don't be angry, John."

"But that's exactly what I am, Mark!" The bassist shouted.

"I have to do this! I have to protect myself! And the only way to do that is to quit this band!"

"And our relationship, at the same time." John whispered. Mark bit his lower lip.

"John, look at my face." Mark said sadly. "Look at the bruises and scrapes. Please look at them." Mark walked over to him and took John's hand. The bassist stared down at him angrily. His feelings were completely confused. Mark wanted to take everything he had from him. Music. "Honey, I love you. I love you so much, but these wounds... they are caused by you. You did them to me." Terry, Alan and Guy gasped loudly. "I've put up with the way you treated me for months. I thought for months that things would get better. I know you're grieving for your father. But I can't do this anymore. I need a break. I'm mentally exhausted, I...I can't stand being insulted and abused by you anymore. I love you. And I don't want to lose you, but I need a break. And I can only get that if the band takes a break too. I never wanted our relationship to affect the band, but it does. And I need a break from you, John." Mark rubbed the back of John's hand with his thumb. The bassist stood frozen in place. His eyes were wide, his breathing was rapid. For the first time in months he was sober and the words Mark said, combined with the injuries on his face, hit him hard. Mark closed his eyes before tears started running down his cheeks again. "I don't want to lose you. You mean the world to me, John. I love you so much, but I need this break. If I don't get it, I'll probably commit suicide soon. I just can't stand seeing you in this state anymore. I have to protect myself." Mark let go of John's hands.

"Mark." The bassist whispered. His eyes began to water heavily. "I'm sorry, I don't want to lose you, I..."

"You won't lose me, darling." Mark said gently. "I promise you that. But I need a break."

*

And so Dire Straits split up in 1986. The press brought to light many theories as to what could have been the reason for the split, but none were correct. Alan, Terry and Guy found new musicians with whom they could make music. Mark began a solo career and worked with Chet Atkins, who became like a father to him. They performed live together. Over all these years, John had not forgotten him. The bassist sat at home in his apartment, painting with acrylic paints on a canvas and saw Mark on television. He played with Chet on the new album they had recorded together, "Neck and Neck". John had bought it on the day it was released. Hell, he had bought all the albums Mark had released. John had even bought all the magazines that had Mark's face on them. And now he saw him on television. John couldn't stop laughing. Mark in a purple shirt, with yellow suspenders. The suspenders made the bassist grin again and again. He thought Mark looked horrible in suspenders. All these years John had been following him. And God, it had been horrible not to speak to the love of his life for five years. They had had absolutely no contact. But John knew that Mark would come back when his wounds had healed. Mark would always come back.

*

It was Christmas 1990. John was sitting in his apartment making tea when the doorbell rang. The bassist looked at the clock in surprise. It was already after ten o'clock. Who would come to visit at this time? He sighed and made his way to the apartment door. When he opened it, his breath caught in his throat. There he stood. Mark Freuder Knopfler. Now 41 years old and with less hair on his head, which was no longer brown but almost white. His light blue eyes, however, were just as stunning as the day they first met. He was quite slim, thinner than he had been five years ago. In his hands he held two pizza boxes and smiled slightly at John.

"Hello, John." He said in that deep voice that John had missed so much that he almost felt dizzy. The bassist couldn't speak. He didn't know how long he stood there speechless, his heart pounding, but Mark started to laugh. "Aren't you going to let me in? I brought pizza. With seafood. Your favourite." John couldn't help but smile and stepped aside to let the younger man in.

*

So the two of them ended up sitting on John's sofa, eating pizza while watching MTV. Mark was pretty quiet. Much quieter than John remembered him. He smiled gently and talked to John about a few impersonal things before John said:

"You look great." Mark's cheeks turned a little pink and he smiled.

"Thank you."

"I mean it." John smiled. "The five years have done you good. You look great."

"I'm getting better, yes." Mark nodded. "It wasn't easy at first, but I think I made the right decision." John bit his lower lip in silence. There was an awkward silence between the two for a while. "I'm sorry, you know?" Mark then said. "I was pretty selfish. I didn't think about how you would feel, if I left."

"No. Don't say that." John said firmly. "I hurt you. I hurt you a lot. Mentally and physically. You were just protecting yourself. And I'm glad you suggested the break. It helped me too. I got my drinking problem under control and started therapy sessions." Mark smiled gently. There was silence again for a while before the guitarist slowly reached out his hand and placed it on John's thigh. The bassist turned his head and looked at him helplessly.

"I love you." Mark said firmly. John's heart skipped a beat. "I still love you like the day we first kissed. And it was so hard to put that distance between you and me. I wanted to go back to you. I wanted to so much. But I knew that a break would do us good. I... I'd like to get to know you again. The way you are now. A lot happens in five years, you know?" John let out a laugh. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he took Mark's hand tightly in his and squeezed it. He had missed the other man's smaller hand.

"I missed you." John said shakily. "Your voice, your smile, your eyes, your hands, your smell. I missed you so much. I watched you on TV for years. Hell, I bought every one of your records. Every night I wished we had never split up. I missed having you by my side." Mark smiled gently and squeezed John's hand.

"I missed you too, John. I'm here now. I'm fine again. And now I can help you to be fine too." John smiled with teary eyes and rubbed the back of Mark's hand with his thumb.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked quietly. Mark smiled gently. God, John had really missed that smile.

"Of course, love." John whimpered weakly and pulled the guitarist into a firm passionate kiss. Mark moaned weakly when he felt John's tongue in his mouth. They kissed for minutes and couldn't get enough of each other. They stumbled into the bedroom and fell onto the bed together, where they continued kissing. At some point they were lying under the covers. John held the smaller man in his arms, just like he had all those years ago. And the smell that emanated from Mark. That distinctive smell that he hadn't smelled for years, filled his heart. He stroked Mark's cheek, which made the guitarist smile.

"I love you, Mark."

"I love you too, John." Mark kissed him gently. "I'm glad to have you back, by my side again."

"I am too." The bassist whispered and stroked Mark's arm.

"By the way." Said Mark with a grin. "I have an idea for a new Dire Straits album." John burst out laughing. It was a happy laugh. He had missed the guitarist so much that after the two hours he had been reunited with him, he felt like time had stood still. And outside, on the streets of London, the stars and the moon were shining. And they were shining for the two musicians.

THE END ;)