There's Only This (Sequel to There's Only Us)

Surprise

Beep, beep, beep,

"....waking up....hope..."

Beep, beep, beep,

"Mark....awake..."

Beep, beep, beep,

"Mark, I need you to wake up." Mark faintly heard a man's deep gentle voice say. It sounded like whoever was talking was yelling down a long hallway, the tone echoing but still strong.

He slowly cracked his eyes open, instantly regretting the decision when a bright white light blinded him, making him wince in pain as he forced his eyes all the way open.

"Mark, can you hear me?" The voice asked.

Why did it sound familiar? Mark thought, searching his brain for any recollection of whoever was talking. Nothing came to mind.

"Yeah." He croaked, nearly forgetting that he was asked a question. His throat was dry and scratchy from lack of use. He tried swallowing a couple of times, but it didn't seem to help.

He looked around after his eyes adjusted to the light. He apparently was in a hospital, although the walls were crumbling with debris littering the cracked white tile floor. A soft beeping noise was emanating from a machine hooked up to Mark that regulated his pulse. Tubes ran from Mark's nose to a different machine. He grimaced as he tore the tubes out, sucking in a breath of somewhat fresh air.

But most importantly, he saw Cry standing by his side, his infamous white neutral expression mask hiding his face. He was wearing a dark green hoodie with the hood pulled up over his head and a pair of ripped dirt stained jeans, as well as black tennis shoes splattered with mud.

Mark looked down and saw that he was dressed in a short sleeve black t-shirt and jeans, his light gray tennis shoes on his feet and his gray and red hoodie flung across the end of the bed he was laying on

"Look, I know you're really confused, but we need to go." He took his hand and helped him out of bed, handing Mark his hoodie.

"No, I'm not going until I get an explanation." Mark said firmly, pulling his hand from Cry's as he took the IV tubes out of his wrist, making the machine that was beeping suddenly start making a high pitched noise.

"Mark-"

"Tell me!" Mark demanded, his head spinning as he waited with bated breath for Cry to answer.

"Fine." He finally huffed impatiently, realizing how stubborn Mark was.

"There was a bombing at the convention a year ago-"

"The convention?" Mark repeated dumbly, interrupting Cry.

"You don't remember?" Cry's tone betrayed the frown he had.

"Wait...we're-we're not-" Mark rubbed his face with his hands, a suffocating panic taking hold as he held the balled up hoodie tightly in his hands.

"You okay?" Cry watched Mark sink back onto the bed.

"Where are we?" He asked quietly, dreading the answer.

"We're in Seattle." Cry answered.

"Have you seen Amy, Jack, Tyler, anybody?" Mark asked frantically, shooting off of the bed and beginning to pace, his tennis shoes scuffing against the tile.