Jack Is Suicidal

You Need Help Jack

A/N: Let me know of any spelling and/or grammatical errors please so I can fix them. ^_^ This story is becoming much longer than I intended it to be.

Mark hears a thud above him and lookes in the direction of the stairs. He must have just dropped something. Mark goes back to trying to find a movie to watch. Meanwhile Jack is upstairs breaking down again.
Jack tries to stifel his sobbing sounds as he clings to the side of the bed frame.

~Everything is wrong.~

What's happening to me?

~You're sick.~

I need to get help. Why can't I move?

~You're so stupid.~

"MARK!!!"

Mark catches a yell from Jack and immediately sprints up the stairs to Jack's bedroom. He runs so fast he can't stop himself in time to keep himself from hitting the open door frame. Mark quickly scans the room for danger but only finds Jack on the floor clutching his chest, weeping, and hyperventilating. Mark kneels beside him and places a hand on his back.

Mark: "It's okay Jack. I'm right here. You need to breathe. Okay? Everything is going to be okay."

Jack finds a little comfort in Mark's presence and doesn't feel as scared. He tries to steady his breath and opens his eyes. He glances over to Mark as if he were the only thing that could save him.

As Mark tries to comfort Jack his stomach flips. He is terrified and doesn't know what to do or say. He just tries to say whatever comes to mind.

Mark: "I know things are hard right now but you have to believe that everything is going to be okay. You have to hold on Jack.

Jack: "B-But *inhales* what if I *exhales* never get better?

Jack's question hits Mark in the chest like a bullet. His heart drops and all he can do is stare Jack in the eyes, mouth slightly agape, and tear up.

Mark: "We are going to get you help Jack."

Jack sits there as his breathing is becoming less labored. He feels angry with himself for making Mark cry again. He doesn't want to pull Mark down with him.

Mark has done nothing but help me and I just keep making him worry. He deserves a better friend than me.

*Ding-Dong*

They look up in unison, the door bell breaking them out of their trance.

Mark: "That must be the pizza man. Are you going to be okay?"

Jack: "Yeah, I'll be okay."

Mark gets up from his kneeling position next to Jack and heads down the stairs to get the pizza and pay the carrier.

~All you're doing is hurting him.~

Jack clutches the sides of his head.

"JUST SHUT UP!"

Mark: "WHAT?"

Jack: "NOTHING MARK."

I feel like I'm going out of my foocking mind.

Jack goes into the bathroom to wash up his face. After he is clean, he stares blankly in the mirror while the water drips from his face. Mark pays the man at the door for the pizza and brings it into the kitchen. He grabs two plates and cups.

Maybe I should go back up to check on him.

Mark climbs the stairs and walks into Jack's room. He sees the light on under the bathroom door and hears the faucet running.

Mark: "The pizza is in the kitchen."

Jack: "Okay, I'll be right out."

Jack drys off his face with the hand towel and turns around to open the door.

He is greeted with a thud and a slight sound of a wince. Mark steps back from the door with his hand covering his right cheek.

Jack: "What were you doing?"

Mark: *nervous chuckle* I-Uh just wanted to see if you were okay.

Jack: "I'm fine Mark, you don't have to spy on me."

Mark: "Alright alright, I'm sorry."

Jack gives Mark a glare then they go to the kitchen for pizza.