I'm Just Septic-Eyed

Chapter 36: Swan Song Pt. 1

A/N: I decided to split the final chapter into two parts. The second part will be uploaded tomorrow. So before you continue, I'd like to thank some users. @Aurica_Kosza for being the first person ever to leave a comment on this story. Believe it or not, but that actually gave me motivation to write this. She was also the first person to create fan art. @Amiss7204 for pretty much being my mother and for leaving encouraging comments that were always a delight to read. And all of you currently reading this. All of your comments and votes made me more than happy to write this. There are a few more people I'd like to point out, but I think I've taken up enough time. I hope you enjoy.

Sean wasn't sure how much of that was real. Had it really been weeks? Was Cry out of his cast? Did Mark actually ask him out? All his thoughts were swirling between what was real and what wasn't. Nothing felt steady. Sean groaned and put a hand up to his head. He paused. He brought his hand down and moved his fingers over his palm. There was a sticky liquid under his touch. What was going on? Sean stood up on shaky legs. He instinctively reached for Chica -- as she was always by his side -- but she wasn't there. Sean nearly fell over. Where was Chica? Everything was too jumbled up. His ears were ringing and continuously going in and out of sound -- like a radio losing signal. His legs refused to keep balance or hold him up. He fell against what felt like a doorframe.

He just needed time. There were so many things assaulting his senses, that his brain couldn't figure out what was going on. There was no telling what had been real. Was this even real? This felt more real than what he was previously experiencing. "Shit," Sean cursed under his breath. It was too much. He pushed himself off the doorframe, his hand slipping a bit. There were sweat beads forming down his back and along his forehead. Why was it so hot? The more he stumbled down the hall, the hotter it got.

"Can't you shut your mouth?"

Sean stopped. Everything stopped, it seemed. His brain clicked upon that voice and many things aligned to make sense. It really had been a few weeks since Sean and Mark went to Fran's Garden. Cry was more than ecstatic the day his cast was removed. Mark... hadn't asked Sean out, sadly. But things that happened today began piecing together. Mark and Sean did actually go see Mr. Morrison, just as in that dream world. They came back early because Mark had work. Then that's all Sean remembers.

"No," that was Mark. His voice sounded full of force compared to what Sean heard earlier. "Jack! Come on, buddy, don't do this to me!"

Sean wanted to move, but something was stopping him. He couldn't command his body to do anything. There was a sound he hadn't heard before. Chica whining and yapping. It was like she was calling for help. Sean couldn't tell where it was coming from, but he knew the only way to help her was to help Mark. He finally got his legs to move.

It seemed as if Mark was about to cry out, yet something stopped the words from leaving. Sean was very familiar with the sound -- not to mention feeling -- of someone getting hit. But he was unprepared for the scene he walked into. Mark yelled, "Don't fucking touch him!" Sean took a small step back in response. He didn't want Sam anywhere near him.

"And what if I do, huh?" Sean could tell Sam's back was facing him. "Is there anything you're gonna do about it, Mark?"

"Don't try me," Mark growled.

Sean wasn't exactly sure what he had walked into. The smell of smoke filled his lungs and the heat was unbearable. Sean yelped when he felt someone yank the collar of his shirt; he lost balance and fell on his knees. Something hit his face. He fell over from the force and iron touched his tongue. He had barely pushed himself off the ground when a soft thud hit the carpet followed by a bang on the wall. Curiosity took his hands across the floor to the mysterious object. It was sleek. His fingers traced over it carefully and he recognized the shape as a knife. He instantly snatched his hands back. He hadn't cut himself, but he acted as if he did.

The other noise turned out to be someone pushed against the wall. Slammed, sounded more like it. It seemed as if Mark had the upper hand on this one. "Do you think this is funny?" Mark hissed. "Do you like what you did to us?"

"Oh, I'm more than pleased," Sam retorted. Every word was covered in sarcasm, "I've had the time of my life. I especially like the part where I killed my best friend. That was my favorite." Mark grunted. Something was slammed on the coffee table and Mark cried out. "It was all your fault, you know that?"

Sean shakily held his hand out in the direction of the warmth. His palm was assaulted with intense heat. He moved it a bit closer -- he had to know where the fire was. The closer he got, the hotter his hand felt. He drew back for fear of burning himself. It felt as if the fire had consumed the kitchen already. That meant it was inching to the joint dining room and the rest of the apartment. It was only a matter of time before the ceiling collapsed above them. Sean knew they had to leave quickly.

"J... Jack," Mark choked out. He coughed and hacked. Sean's body trembled in fear. Mark was obviously in trouble. Unfortunately for him, his only help was Sean. Sean crawled over to where the knife was dropped. He fumbled with it until it was safely in his hand. He wasn't sure if he seemed very intimidating as he stood up. His legs were shaking uncontrollably.

Sam laughed. "What are you gonna do with that, Jackie?" The only emotion Sean felt was fear. There was nothing he could do against Sam. "Do you even know how to use it?" Mark gasped loudly and began coughing. "You're relying on this poor, little blind boy to help you? Tch. Come on, Jack. I'll show you how to use one of those." Sean heard something flick open.

Sean stepped back. The fire was right behind him, he had nowhere to go. "S-stop," Sean protested meekly. He was in absolute terror. Sam's chuckle sounded close. Sean unconsciously took a step back. The heat from the fire caused him to regret his decisions. There didn't seem to be a good outcome to this.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sam yanked on Sean's arm. Sean couldn't help but let out a whimper. "I have to give you a little lesson on knives." A thin blade was pressed against Sean's neck. It moved slowly up to his cheek. Sean didn't dare move. In one swift motion, Sam created a perfect slice on Sean's cheek. The blood gradually started seeping out. "Why don't we expand on that lesson, hm?" Sam placed the knife directly under Sean's eye. Sean held his breath as Sam chuckled darkly.

Sean gripped the knife in his hand tightly. Without any hesitation, he thrust it forward, with no idea where it might land. Sam made a startled sound and the blade fell away from Sean's face. Sean nearly crumpled to his knees, but instead, he let go of the knife. To his horror, he didn't feel or hear the knife fall. Sam laughed a bit. "Clearly you do know how to use one of those," Sam said. He grabbed the collar of Sean's shirt -- it wasn't full of malice, it was just to pull Sean close. He lowered his voice so only Sean could hear, "Welcome to my world."

This time, Sean fell to his knees. Tears prickled his eyes. He didn't want to do that; he wished he didn't have to. He was just so scared. There was a loud crack. Sean knew it was the ceiling. It could come down any second. "J-Jack," Mark's voice was hoarse. "We have to get out of here." Sean knew he was right. The flames were practically at his back by now.

"O-okay," Sean responded.

Mark helped Sean up and said he would get Chica. Chica's cries were reduced to heartbreaking whimpers. Mark whispered things to her in a reassuring voice. Sean grabbed onto Mark's arm, hand trembling. But he stopped when they were at the door. "Jack? C'mon, we have to go," Mark begged.

"Y-yeah," Sean took a step back. "Just wait a sec. B-but get outside." Sean turned back in the house with Mark calling after him. The ceiling cracked again. Sean felt that Sam was kneeling on the ground. "Get up." His voice wasn't that demanding; it was trembling like he was. He didn't give Sam a choice. He reached for his arm and yanked him up.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked softly. Sean had to practically hold him up. "You could just get rid of me right now."

Sean didn't answer.