I'm Just Septic-Eyed

Chapter 27: Confrontation

Mark left Cry and Felix's apartment shortly after. They played one last round of Mario Kart, then Mark decided to quit after Felix won again. They were all in high spirits. Mark hummed a happy tune has he opened the door to the apartment. His hum stopped mid note as he saw the scene before him. Sean was sobbing uncontrollably while clutching onto Chica. Mark stood there dumbfounded for longer than he probably should have, then rushed to Sean's side. "Jack!" Mark cursed himself for shouting. He was just so shocked and worried. He pried Sean away from Chica. Sean was shaking violently and sobs racked his body. Mark scooped him up and hurried to his room as fast as he could.

He sat down on the bed, still holding Sean. He just felt so fragile in Mark's arms. "It's okay," Mark made sure his voice was softer this time. "I'm here, Jack. You should have called me. I-I mean — fuck — just breath." Mark noticed Sean began panicking more when he mentioned that. He cursed himself again, but remained under control. "It's fine. You're fine. Just calm down. Breathe, Jack. Take deep breaths." Mark began rubbing Sean's arm soothingly. It took a lot longer than the first time, but Sean's trembling eventually diminished into nothing. His crying stopped, but the tears still stained his face. Mark began to say something, but it fell dead once it reached his lips. Sean was asleep. The poor guy must have been in a lot of distress. Mark frowned. He didn't even know what happened, but he felt like he made it worse by his slip-ups. But at least Sean was okay now.

Mark considered leaving the room to let Sean rest, but he was concerned. What if Sean woke up in a panic? What if he did something he'll regret? No -- Mark had to stay. He moved both of them as best as he could into a laying down position. Once they were situated he let himself relax a bit. He glanced at Chica, who had made herself comfortable in her bed. He smiled slightly.

~~~

Mark opened his eyes when he felt movement. He wasn't asleep -- he hadn't slept -- but his eyelids were heavy. Sean mumbled something under his breath, then sat up slowly. "Good morning," Mark hoped he didn't sound tired. He saw Sean jump slightly. "How did you sleep?"

"M-Mark?" Sean was surprised. "Why are you...? What time is it?"

"It's about to be eight," Mark answered after looking at his phone. "You slept for a while. How're you feeling?"

Sean yawned. "I'm fine." He paused. "I guess you wanna know what happened." He rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"Only if you're up to it." Mark frowned. He didn't like Sean being this way. Sean was always happy and loud, not whatever this new Sean was. This Sean was reserved and hardly spoke above a whisper. "I won't force you or anything."

"You should follow me, then." Sean lifted himself out of bed. He turned his head expectantly at Mark. Mark didn't move for a moment; he was pondering. But he didn't want to make Sean wait, so he got up.

They traveled to the living room with Chica following curiously at their heels. Sean walked over to the couch and that's when Mark noticed the knife on one of the cushions. It immediately alarmed him, but there was nothing on it. It was clean -- almost new. Sean handed him a note written in braille. Mark didn't know braille; though he tried to learn it once. "It's from Sam," Sean seemed to read Mark's mind. "I'm guessing he had someone stab it to the door." He motioned in the general direction of the knife.

Mark ran his fingers along the paper. He recognized a few letters, but not enough to make out the whole message. Sean looked uneasy. "Why not call the police?"

"No!"

Mark's eyes widened. That was the loudest he heard Sean in a while. "Jeez. I'm sorry." Mark found himself taking personal offence for some reason. But that was silly. Sean had every reason to call the police; yet Mark found himself saying, "I won't bring it up again."

"Good," Sean returned to a mumble. He snatched the note out of Mark's hand, causing Mark to frown.

"What does it say?" Mark caught Sean before he could walk away. Sean froze in place. He turned his head to Mark in a questioning matter. "You know what I mean. The note. What does it say?"

Sean traced his fingers over the bumps. "Uh..." He fiddled with a corner of the paper. "It's just a message for me. Not important."

"Not important?" Mark tried to control his voice. "You had a panic attack over it. It's clearly important."

"I don't want to make things worse, Mark," Sean snapped. "I can't talk about it with you -- I'm afraid to. If Sam..." He turned his back to Mark. "I don't know. I'm sorry, Mark. I'm just afraid." Mark admitted defeat. He didn't want to pressure Sean. "Oh, but, Mark? You might wanna get some sleep. You sound exhausted."

A/N: So I found myself with a sore throat a few days ago. It hurt to speak and I could only make certain noises or gestures to communicate. I now understand to a certain degree what Cry goes through. I'm still sick, sadly, which is one of the reasons this chapter is short. But anyway. Let me know what you think!