Feral - A Septiplier Fanfiction

Ch.7

It was almost like meeting an ex on the street, and though that comparison would have normally made Jack laugh, it was oddly relatable. The two simply stared at each other for who knows how long, Mark with a growing blank face and Jack with a slowly numbing heart.

Not that Jack wasn't happy to finally have reached his goal and found Mark, but he wasn't sure what to do now, nor did he know how Mark happened to just be there, because that made him feel slightly nervous and bewildered.

Finally, Jack decided to talk to him; if his friend was going to murder him either way then there was no point of prolonging the inevitable. "Mark," Jack whispered again, watching his friend twitch in response and a rumble escape his throat. "Mark... it's me, Jack. Your friend?"

Mark continued to stare blankly, completely oblivious to what the Irishman was saying. Jack sighed; he was going to go nowhere with this. It seemed like every single time that he was close to winning, something else had to block the way. In this case, communication- not that that should have been a shocker.

Suddenly Mark, while crouching low to the ground, stepped carefully towards Jack on all fours like he was waiting for Jack to explode like a ticking time bomb. His nose nudged Jack's arm as he breathed in deeply, sniffing the nervous man all over. His face skimmed Jack's own face, his chest, neck, legs, torso, and even between his legs before the Feral snorted and looked back into the other's eyes.

Jack was uncomfortable by all of this and he wished he was back in the Hanisan family's house, or dead, or even in that tiny and cramped cell. But the fact that Mark was more curious than aggressive told Jack that maybe things would be fine; at least for now. After all, he had never met a more calm Feral.

Suddenly Mark dropped to his side with a loud sigh of pain, and Jack slid closer in concern to see what was wrong. Amongst all the fighting, Mark must have been bitten or scratched, as a large bloody wound was swiped across his side. Jack reached to touch it without thinking and Mark snarled and snapped at his fingers, missing them by only a few inches. Jack flinched and recoiled, but not for long.

Jack turned to the clothes that had scattered all over the ground and picked the cleanest shirt up, before turning back to Mark nervously. "I need to help clean that scratch," he told Mark even though he knew the Feral couldn't understand him. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

He slowly brought the clothing towards Mark's body who jerked upwards with a nasty roar that sent Jack cowering against the wall of the house. Mark collapsed again, and once more Jack brought the shirt towards Mark.

Needless to say it went on for a while, but the fact that Mark hadn't actually harmed Jack despite being irate gave Jack the confidence and hope to keep trying until Mark relaxed at least somewhat; and soon he did. It was almost pitch black outside before the Feral was finally too tired to object to Jack putting light pressure on the wound, though he did growl to show his disdain.

"Shhh," Jack soothed, almost feeling like a mother tending to her child as he wiped the blood away carefully. "You can trust me, Mark. I'm here now. Everything's gonna be fine..."

Mark huffed and grunted and Jack hoped for a second that he was trying to respond to his words, but the Irishman knew deep down that it was only because of Mark's discomfort that he was making those noises.

Jack began to put more pressure on it to stop the trickling of blood, and Mark snapped his head up, burying his teeth in Jack's flesh, causing him to cry out and drop the shirt. "M-Mark!" Jack squeaked as he tried to yank his arm free; he didn't want to lose another hand! Mark's teeth, which felt so much sharper than a normal human's, dug deeper into the skin and Jack forced himself to freeze all body movements until Mark finally let go and dropped his head in annoyance.