Chapter 6: A Bad Memory

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Over the next three weeks, Mark and Jackson were inseparable. They went to work together every day, ate lunch together, and were getting to know each other better. Mark began to open up more with Jackson, and Jackson began to become more caring, like how he was before Black Thunder. Without Jackson knowing, Mark was always on the lookout for the mysterious JB, the JB he was convinced had something to do with the agency, but to no avail. Nevertheless, he enjoyed living with Jackson- much more than he had expected to. Now, Mark actually felt bad about his bad attitude towards the situation he'd had at first. But now, he had a good friendship with Jackson. He felt like he was on top of the world.

That is, until one day he woke up feeling hot, feverish, and sick all over.

"Mark?" Jackson's soft voice made Mark open his eyes fully. "Are you awake?"

Mark turned over on the couch to see Jackson hovering over him in black jeans and a white t-shirt. His hair was disheveled and in a beanie, and he was looking at Mark with concerned eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, worry in his voice. He tilted his head. "You're sweating."

Mark only mumbled as he tried to sit up. The sudden shift in gravity made him dizzy, so he groaned and put a hand to his head. He didn't feel right. He didn't feel right at all.

"Do you feel okay?" Jackson sat next to Mark on the couch, patting his shoulder gently. He glanced around at how Mark had turned his uncomfortable couch into a bed. As the weeks went by, he began wondering if he should find a more suitable place for Mark to sleep other than the couch. He noticed how warm the other's body was.

Mark only shrugged in response as he rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked, his voice congested.

Jackson checked his watch. "It's about 8:15," he said.

"W-What? We're going to be late-"

As Mark began to freak out about sleeping in on accident, Jackson interrupted him by placing a hand on Mark's forehead. Instantly the heat made Jackson frown. "Mark, you have a fever. I think you should stay here."

Mark looked at Jackson in horror. "Huh?"

Jackson got up and disappeared around the corner. The sound of running water accompanied Jackson's little lecture. "You shouldn't work when you're sick, Mark. It's bad for you."

"But I'm not sick," Mark insisted with a pout. "I'm fine." He sat up all the way and tried to fight the dizziness in his head. Mark scrunched his eyebrows together and rubbed his temples.

Jackson soon came over with a bowl of apple slices and set it down on the dining table. He looked over to Mark to see him sitting up defiantly. He let out a sigh, upset to see him so stubborn. "Mark," he said as matter-of-factly as he could, "you work at a restaurant. I don't think Mr. Kim wants you to contaminate the food. You won't be able to concentrate, either. And besides," he paused for a little bit, "you don't look that good. I think you should get some rest here."

Mark frowned, putting one hand on his forehead and the other on his rosy pink cheeks. "But-"

Before he could say anything more, a wave of pain flooded over his head, and it hurt so badly that Mark slowly layed down and held his head with a groan.

Jackson tsked his tongue, hating to see Mark like this. "I'll be back soon. Don't answer the phone or the door. I'll stop by the grocery store to get food." Mark nodded weakly, giving up the idea of going to work. Jackson watched Mark for a split second before he turned back towards the kitchen. He headed straight for his medicine cabinet. Jackson looked around, pushed bottles of vitamins around, and tossed boxes of tea aside only to find nothing. Mentally he cursed himself. He couldn't find any medicine in his cabinet. He walked over to the door and slipped on his shoes. Jackson turned back around and laid his eyes on Mark, who was watching him with feeble eyes. His heart broke in pity for him. "I'll see if I can get off work early," he said to him. "I'll come back with medicine."

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