Dark Secret

Chapter 5

Jack pulled up outside the house about half an hour earlier than he had anticipated, preparing himself for whatever was in store. He knew Mark was planning something special for his birthday and coming from Mark, he knew it was going to be amazing. He sorted his hair in the mirror before getting out the car and walking up the path. He tried to stick his key in the lock but instead the door slowly creaked open into the dimly lit room.
'Probably forgot to lock the door.'
This struck Jack as a little odd to him as Mark isn't exactly the forgetful type. Jack shrugged it off and put his keys on the table by the door. He turned to the light switch by the stairs before feeling something squelch under his shoe.
"Eugh, what the fuck is that?" Jack snapped on the light to see he was standing in a pool of puke, making him instinctively jump backward out of it. He looked at the stairs and froze up, staring at the blood stained wooden stairs and the sick on the floor. He quickly became panicked and began to run through the house looking for Mark.
'Did someone break in? That would explain the door being open... Oh god! Mark where are you?' He sprinted round the corner towards the kitchen, hitting Mark and knocking him onto the floor and spilling the bucket of soapy water onto the floor.

"Oh, hi Jack! You're home early!" He stood himself up, Jack watching him as if he had just witnessed him rise from the grave.
"Happy birth-", before he could finish Jack grabbed him, wrapping his arms around his chest and squeezing him as tightly possible. Mark was surprised but returned the hug, squeezing him tightly in return, still being careful not to apply pressure to his hand.
"Did you really miss me that much? I only say you yesterday" Mark said, flattered by Jack's sudden burst of affection but concerned that something bad had happened.
"Hey, hey what's wrong?", rubbing his back in order to comfort him.
"I thought something had happened to you." he whispered. Mark stopped rubbing his back and held Jack in front of him, giving him a bit a confused smirk.
"Well that killed the mood, care to explain your reasoning for that slightly dramatic theory?" Jack looked at him, pointing out into the hallway.
"The blood and puke in the hall! What the hell happened?". Mark's smirk quickly disappeared.
"I was hoping to clean that up before you got back." He looked on the floor behind him where the empty bucket lay with the soapy water engulfing the floor. Jack looked confused and tried to hold Mark's hand, causing Mark to yelp and yank away his hand. Jacked looked at his hand, completely bandaged and then back at Mark, his jaw unhinged.

"Mark, what happened to your hand?" Jack asked, his voice full of concern.
"I needed to lift up the bed cause there was something stuck under the post and it dropped on my hand." He smiled at Jack reassuringly.

'I hope that didn't sound too rehearsed.'

Jack looked at him for a moment, then returned the smile.
"How bad is it?", both looking at his mummified looking hand.
"Well currently it's a big bruise in the shape of a slightly deformed swollen hand, but as long as I don't try and move it or hit it off anything it shouldn't take to long to heal up". Jack smiled, relieved by the news.
"I'll tell ya what, because you're crippled now I will clean up the stairs." Mark picked up the bucket from the floor and began to walk towards the sink.
"Jack it's fine you shouldn't have to-", stopping mid sentence as Jack tugged the bucket out his hand from behind, insisting him to rest. Mark smiled and walked upstairs into their ensuite bathroom. He took his pills Dr. Ridgewell prescribed to him and washing them down with a glass of water.
'He doesn't need to know, not yet.'

Jack and Mark were sat snuggled on the sofa watching TV when Mark suddenly jumped up.
"Oh yeah, almost forgot!" Jack sat there confused for a moment, watching as Mark excitedly sprinted off to wherever. About thirty seconds later he heard him come thumping down the stairs and skid to the sofa. Mark sat down and handed him a small white gift bag with a smile on his face, excited to see Jack's reaction.
"Happy birthday Jackaboy. Hope you like it." Jack took the bag excitedly and took the small box out that was nestled in the tissue paper protecting it. He opened the box to reveal the thick silver chain link bracelet with 'Booper Dooper' written across the tag. Jack paused, staring at it in awe.
"Mark... it's..." Mark's smile faded.
"Don't you like it?" His eyes became a little glassy as he looked back at Mark.
"This is the loveliest thing anybody has ever given me! I love it." He put the bracelet on the arm of the sofa and hugged Mark tightly, a massive grin on his face. Mark was so happy that he loved it.
"Don't you cry you asshole, you'll make me start". Jack laughed a little and pulled back from the hug and put the bracelet on.
"You know that I'm never taking this off right?" This seemed to please Mark even more, his grin getting larger.
"I'm pleased to here it... oh also I still have all the stuff for breakfast in the fridge, you want me to cook something up?" Jack snuggled into Mark, clinging onto his arm.
"Does that mean you have to get up?" He looked up at Mark, staring at him with big eyes as if to plead him to stay.
"Yes, but aren't you hungry?" Jack thought for a second; cuddles or food? Food now, cuddles later.
"Yeeeaaaahhh.... you need a hand?" He smirked as he looks down at Mark's bandages.
"Haha very funny, but no I'm good thanks. It's your birthday so relax, you need a drink?"Jack declined and continued watching TV.

Mark walked to the fridge and got out everything that he needed to make the now birthday brunch. He started cutting up the bacon into strips when without warning his knife wielding hand stabbed at the chopping board, narrowly missing his bandaged hand. He quickly dropped the knife and took a step back, his heart pounding, feeling as if it were going to break through his chest.
"Mark what are ye doin' in there?" Jack called from the living room.
"Nothing, it's- it's fine" he said somewhat shakily, but Jack didn't seem to notice and kept watching his show. Mark leaned back against the bench behind him before taking a deep breath and continuing to prepare the meal. After finishing cooking up the breakfast he brought through a few plates of sausages, bacon, pancakes and eggs.
"Help yourself, there should be plenty for now, but keep in kind I'm taking you out later so don't fill yourself too much." Jack smiled brightly.
"You really made an effort today didn't you?" A large smile on his face as he began indulging himself.

He began to dig into his birthday banquet when suddenly Mark put his hand over the plate, preventing him from grabbing what he was after. Jack looked at him confused.
"Mark ya doof what are ye-" he suddenly stopped speaking, staring at Mark's eyes which had gone bloodshot red.
"You don't want to put anymore fat on you, now do you you little Irish cunt?" Mark in a deep and gravely voice, a stone expression on his face. Jack was extremely taken aback by this and looked at Mark in shock and confusion.
"Why would ye... Why would ye say that?" Mark just sat for a moment, same serious expression before giving him a small smirk.
"God you're so egotistical aren't you? You sit in front of your camera with your ocean blue eyes and your luscious green hair, pouting at all those online whores who basically worship you and everything you do. All those sluts drooling over you, drawing pictures of you completely starkers. You get off on it cause I'm not enough for you, you have to have everything and everyone fighting over you." He sneered, his voice cold and cruel. Jack was unable to say anything, he was used to having hate directed at him but this was different, this was the man he loved not some stranger on the internet. All of he sudden he completely snapped.
"I don't know what the fuck is wrong with ye, but I know fer a fact this isn' really you talkin'! My Mark wouldn' talk to me like tha' and he knows damn well that I love him more than life itself. Now I dunno why you're bein' such a fuckin' arsehole, but I ain't puttin' up with this shit! Are ya on some kinda drugs? I mean, look at your eyes! They have gone completely red you look like a fuckin' psychopath! Enjoy dinner alone DICK!"
Mark sat staring with a slight smirk at him, completely unfazed by this Jack's outburst. He was staring him right in the eye which caused a chill down Jack's spine. Jack got up from the sofa and barged towards the door, grabbed his jacket off the coat hook and storming through the door, his face red with anger.

As the door slammed Mark suddenly experienced a sharp pain in his head like somebody has stuck a large needles through his temples and injected venom into his brain. He yelped in agony, suddenly snapping back into his normal mind set. His vision was blurred and spinning and he knew he was about to throw up, running to the toilet and sticking his head in the bowl in order to prevent a repeat of earlier. The vomit burned his throat and just made his head spin even more to the point that he couldn't stand up. Once he had finished being sick, he shuffled himself over to the bathroom wall and propped himself up against it. He cold feel something on his face and wiped under his nose to see blood dripping down onto his lips. His head still felt like there was a swarm of bees trapped in his skull and there was a high pitched static noise he just couldn't seem to get rid of. Eventually he gave up trying to stand and just slid back down the wall and began to close his eyes.

"Jack will find me soon, he's probably just upstai-"

Then darkness.