Septiplier One Shots

A Real Angel

(Mark's P.O.V.)

It was almost a year ago when he was taken. It really doesn't feel like it, god it doesn't feel like it, but it's been almost a year. 

He and I were just walking together, down the street. We were heading to the park, where I was planning on finally telling him how I felt. And then, he got excited and ran ahead... A car sped towards us, and he got hit. Died on impact. No one expected it, and the aftermath was terrible. I mean, Jacksepticeye was gone.

For all of us who knew him in real life though, it wasn't just Jacksepticeye that died. It was Seán. And for all of us, so many people, it was something worse than a nightmare. We'd constantly joke around that he was an angel that fell to Earth, and that he was just hiding it, but if that were true he wouldn't have died. 

I miss him. My angel. 

And then, about a week after his death, I started feeling sick. I was getting headaches, my chest hurt, I had struggles breathing sometimes, I started losing weight somehow. Eventually, I had a asthma attack or something when Tyler was over, and he took me to the hospital. They told me I had a tumor in my lung, and that I was at stage three lung cancer.

You can only imagine how hard it was for me to learn something like that only a week after my best friend and crushes death. 

I called my parents and told them. I told them what the doctor told me, about how it was probably caused by familial predisposition (since my dad had cancer) and the mass amounts of radon gas in the area I live in. The tumor was fairly small, so they didn't want to do surgery just yet, but we were going to start other types of treatment as soon as possible. 

But that was eleven months ago. About a month ago, it got really, really bad really, really quickly, and I've been in the hospital since. They tried to do surgery, get the tumor out, and it was only partially successful, so I'm doing treatment and another surgery is planned for tomorrow. My family is all here, and they're all hoping that I'll recover. My fans are making videos, my friends visiting and praying.

But I'm tired. And I don't really know what I want to happen. I guess we'll just see, huh?

***

It's about three in the morning. The hospital is quiet, but I can't sleep. My mind is still stuck on that surgery tomorrow, and the pain in my chest. I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. I can never sleep and I hate it. I hate the pain, and I hate the treatments, and I hate everything. I'm just so goddamn tired...

I look over at the nightstand to see the silhouette of all the gifts I've been given, from friends, family, and fans alike. There's a giant pile of letters and fanart off to one side, things that Ethan collected for me at the last convention. There are plushies, and balloons from friends. Bob got me a Sam plushie, but I keep that one with me. Just something to keep me holding on.

I reach over and grab the small stack of photos my family brought for me. I move all the tubes and wires to one side of me so I can easily look through the photos, the nasal cannula proving to be a problem but I can't really bother to care at the moment. I just want to look through all of the photos again.

The first one is a photo of me and my brother when we were younger. It was Christmas in Cincinnati and we were outside in the snow, Tom showing off the new snowboard he got while I was trying to throw snowballs at him. I chuckle at the photo, remembering all the times Tom and I would play together. 

The next photo is of me and my mom cooking in the kitchen. I'm a younger teen I think, and the photo was taken by my dad. She was teaching me how to cook dumplings, and like I always used to, I failed miserably. But she kept teaching me, kept sticking by me, and now I cook for myself regularly. Or, I used too. 

The next is a photo of Bob, Wade, Tyler and I when we were younger. High school age, homecoming one year. None of us had dates so we just went as a group. We're all dressed up in nice outfits, arms around each other as we're smiling at the camera. My smile widens a bit as I look at it, wishing I could go back to those times.

Then the next one brings a bit of sadness to my heart, since it's a picture of me and my dad. We're just sitting next to each other on the couch, smiling. I'm around ten, maybe, and he's just smiling at the camera, with his arm around me, like I was his most prized possession. I always do wonder if he's proud of me, and what he would say if he were here. 

It's sad now though, knowing what he had to go through with his battle of cancer. Knowing the struggle, the pain, the annoyance of it all. It hurt me a lot when he told me and then was gone so quickly, but now that I've been dealing with this for so long I'm... I'm glad he didn't have to go through it. 

With hesitance I move to the last photo, tears coming to my eyes as I see it. I sigh, staring at the photo of me and Seán. We're standing outside one of the conventions, and my arm is around his shoulders, his arm around my waist. We probably looked like a couple, and even though we had only known each other for a year at that point I already loved him.

"I remember that day." I gasp, lifting my head up and turning to the side as I recognize the Irish accent in a heartbeat. My eyes widen, silent tears spilling as I look at the man beside me. He has a soft smile on his face, his blue eyes as beautiful as I remember. His hair is still green, his clothes simple and white. And finally, the beautiful white wings on his back. I can't believe it.

"Seán?" I ask quietly and he chuckles, smiling more. 

"Hey Mark." He whispers, and I shake my head, the photos falling from my grasp. He bends over and picks up the one of him and me, shaking his head a bit. "This was my first time on a panel with you. We had just finished, and were heading out for a meal. You wanted to take a picture, and so I agreed and... This was really the moment when I realized how much you meant to me."

He stares at it a bit longer before putting it down on the table, along with the rest of the photos. Then he looks back at me, at the tears running down my cheeks and he frowns a bit, kneeling down to my height and wiping the tears away. A slight light radiates from him, brightening the room just slightly. 

"You're here." I whisper and he chuckles, holding my face in his hands. He nods then, taking his hands away and straightening up again. 

"Yeah. I'm right here." He says, and I shake my head, still trying to wrap my mind around it.

"You're an angel." I breathe, even quieter then before. And he nods, his wings stretching slightly. 

"Just like you'll be." He says back and I exhale shakily, more tears falling. 

"How are you here?" My brain is to dead to think of the reasonable answer while he takes my hand and runs his thumb over my knuckles. 

"I was sent here to get you." He says it quietly, like he's trying not to break me but it doesn't matter, because that's all I really wanted to here. 

"Now?" He shakes his head, squeezing my hand. 

"Tomorrow. During the surgery. You'll be asleep, and there'll be no pain. You can just let go." He looks at me and I see some tears in his eyes, though he refuses to let them spill. I reach my hand up, putting it on his cheek, and he leans into my touch. 

"God, I missed you." He chuckles at my words, bringing my hand up to his mouth and kissing it, looking at me. 

"I missed you too." He leans down and brings his lips to mine, giving me a kiss I've only dreamed of. I kiss him back, my hand on his cheek still. He pulls away then as my head starts to fall back, tiredness falling over me. "But it's time to sleep now. You have a lot of people to say goodbye to tomorrow." 

"You'll be here?" 

"Yes."

"Good."

And I let the darkness take over me, with Seán's next words comforting me enough to ease the pain in my chest. 

"I love you so much Mark. And I'll always protect you." 

A/N: And so I'm not getting questions, yes, the next day during the surgery Seán takes Mark's life, and they go off to the afterlife as angels together, forever together and forever happy. Yay.