Punk Meets Pastel [Septiplier] [COMPLETED]

♡ Fourteen ♡

Mark slowly opens his eyes. He looks around the room. He already remembers everything.

"We can have a life together. Just you and me. Maybe a kid or three."

He sighs. A knock on the door stops his thoughts. "You may enter." He says. A nurse walks over to him, smiling.

"Hello, Mark. How are you feeling."

"Fine." He answers the man.

"I'm Carl. I'm filling in for Adam. You remember the events of last week, correct?"

"Yes. Has he woken up yet?" Carl looks at his clipboard. He nods.

"Yes, and he has requested to see you, actually. He has been for a few days straight."

"He's been awake for a few days?! How long exactly?!"

"He only just woke up three days ago. The first thing he said was, "let me see him. I need to see him." You weren't awake at the time, so we had to decline the request." Mark nods. "He is awake now, if you want to see him." Mark nods fast. Carl laughs a little.

Mark was forced to stay in the bed, since his wound was healing still. Moments later, Jack was brought into the room on a wheelchair. They placed him by the bed.

"We'll leave you two be." Carl leaves the room. Jack and Mark sit in an awkward, yet comfortable silence. Jack opens his mouth, then closes it. He looks at Mark. Mark was already looking at him.

"Can I join you in the bed?" Mark nods as he scoots over a little, allowing Jack to join him. They cuddle as much as they can, Jack trying not to hurt Mark.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good." Jack says.

"What have you been doing recently?"

"Thinking of you."

"Oh. Is... is the... umm... is the baby..." Mark fumbles with his words, Not sure how to ask. Jack doesn't answer for a few minutes. "Jack?" Jack snuggles closer to Mark. Mark moves as much as he can so he can look into the Irish boys eyes. He wasn't crying. "Are they okay?" Jack rubs his head on Marks arm. Mark was confused. "Jack, please answer me."

"I'm sorry, Mark." Mark felt confused. "They're alive." Mark pulled away from Jack so he could look at him. Jack looked at Mark.

"Jack, is that a bad thing for you?" Jack's eyes well up with tears. Of course it was! This means that he has to go through nine months of pain, then a day or two of worse pain, then some of that pain will continue. He often wonders, "why was I born the way I was born? Why couldn't I have been born with male parts, than that's the end? "Yes, Mark. It is. I have to go through paom, then more pain, then stay in pain for a little longer. And, we have to hide a growing bump for nine months. We still have school!" Mark holds Jack close to him. Jack cries into Marks body.

"I don't know what to do! I don't want this life anymore! I'm better off dead." Mark pulls Jack out from him.

"Jack, don't say that. You are not better off dead. You have a child growing inside you. You're going to give life to someone, or maybe even two people. This is the best thing ever. You're the best thing ever. You're smart, very kind, very funny, extremely hot, and the best person I know."

"But if I wasn't alive-"

"If you weren't alive, so much would be different."

"How so?"

"Jack, you remember how we met?" Jack nods. We were both about 14 years old.

I had been walking home alone when I saw a boy with black hair, glasses, and a leather jacket. He looked like a punk. I thought, "wow. He can't be good news." He had a cigarette in between his index and middle finger. I made a face of disgust. Smoking is so bad for you and just disgusting. I mean, I've never done it, but it just-elch.