Immortal: Septiplier

Jack's POV

I went home after PAX, alone. I had to see Mark again. Through the scren wasn't enough.

I still found it  hard to believe him about him being immortal, but I knew he loved me. I started to clean up a little, having nothing better to do.

I saw a small wooden box that looked to hand accidentally fallen, and gotten kicked under my bed, and picked it up. I brushed the dust off, and undid the latch. It's contents were yellow and faded papers.

Dearest Mark, I have a sonnet I've been writing, but I'd like to run it by you before I publish. It's for you, after all. Don't worry, I've kept you anonymous.

Shining light in looming dark,
Only you shall heal my heart.
Fair youth, your smile could bright the world.

That's all I've got. Should I scrap it? At any rate, thank you for last night. Your soul mate will be be lucky when he finally gets you in bed!  Yours truly,
                               Will S.

I looked at it in shock for a moment. There was an antique shop down the road. Maybe he could authenticate it?

I pulled on my jacket, and walked outside into the cold Ireland air. I got to the shop, and opened the door.

"How may I help you?"

"Can you authenticate a letter for me?" I asked, pulling the paper out of my pocket.

"Who is it from?"

"William Shakespeare, I think."

The man's eyes widened, and he grabbed several books, along with a pair of tweezers, some scissors, and a magnifying glass. "Let me see..."

I handed over the paper.

He picked up the scissors.

"Whoa! What are you doing!?" I exclaimed.

"I have to take just a small corner, to carbon date it and such." He peered at me through the magnified glasses. "Is that alright?"

I nodded. "Go ahead."

He carefully snipped off the smallest corner of the paper, and placed it under the microscope. "Hmm... sems to be parchment of that era. The ink, from what I can tell, is era as well." He removed it from the microscope, and placed the snippet in a machine. "This will tell us the approximate date of the parchment."

I waited, and it beeped.

"Your letter is authentic. In age, at least." He opened two or three of the books. "And.... a matching signature. This seems to.have.been written around Romeo and Juliet. Where did you acquire such a thing?"

"Found it in a box."

"You are lucky. A letter written by the great playwright himself! And a love letter to a man no less!"

"Thank you. Is there a price for the authentication?"

He laughed. "For such a special find, my boy, not today."

"Thank you!"

He handed me the paper back. "Feel free to come back anytime if you need anything else authenticated."

"Thank you sir." I turned, and left the shop.

Walking home, I thought about what I'd just potentially proven. Mark really had been around for a millennium.

I walked up the stairs to my apartment, and unlocked the door.

I went back to the box, and pulled out another letter.

My dearest Mark, we're still at sea, but approaching shore. Theres a ship that should pass us soon, and they've agreed to take letters back to America. I think about you every day, and  have a nagging fear that I'll never see you again. But here's to hoping I'll be home soon. With immense love, William McLoughlin.

This was dated 1965. He told me that the ship... yes. There. I pulled out a newspaper clipping with faces.

USS Brave was attacked yesterday. There were no survivors, and no bodies were recovered.

I scanned through the names and faces until I came across one identical to mine.

Private William McLoughlin, age 23.

"Oh my god..." I pressed a hand to my mouth in shock.

I dug further. There was a birth record of a McLoughlin. He had ben stillborn. Then there was a boy who died in a house fire. He had records upon records of so many McLoughlins, from before Shakespeare, until... was that a copy of my birth certificate?

I carefully refilled the box with the papers, and closed the latch, setting it gingerly on my recording desk. I needed several drinks.

I picked up my phone, and dialed his number.

"Hello?" He yawned. "Its the middle of the night, who is this?"

"Hey Mark."

"Oh! Babe! Hey!" He laughed. "I got a new phone today. Tyler pushed me in the pool by accident. We were moving a table and he tripped."

"Aww..." I giggled. "Hey, I'm flying back out to LA soon."

"What? Why?"

"I miss you. And you left something."

Mark gasped, sounding like he was almost in tears. "My box! You  found it! Oh my god thank you so much!"

I sighed, smiling. "Yeah. It was under my bed. "

"I can't wait to see you."

"I uh... got that letter from Shakespeare authenticated." I said.

My lover sighed, the static hitting my ear. "I understand. You didn't quite believe me about my life."

"You do?"

"Of course I do. All that matters to me is that you still love me."

"Of course I love you!" I clutched my phone like it was his hand.

"Well... IF YOU LOVE ME LET ME GO-O-OO."

"You did not just do that to me!" I sputtered.

"Yes I did. Now let me sleep, you leprechaun. Its one in the morning and I'm tired."

"Alright, puppy. Sleep well."

"You too. When its that time, I guess."

"Love you."

"Love you too." He ended the call, and I stared at his contact photo, before shutting off my phone, and heading down for something to eat.