Blood on the Wall

Chapter 2

When Mac arrived at Jacks apartment the next morning, Jack had the painting utensils ready. The floor was already covered with a plastic sheet and paintbrushes as well as a bucket of paint were there. Jack had made a pot of coffee and poured them two cups. He reached for the bag of bagels only then registering, that Mac stood frozen, looking at the wall that got most of the blood on it.

„I know, it's not pretty, but I couldn't hire a crafts enterprise to do the painting, they would probably have called the cops, so it's up to us buddy. Mac?" He touched Macs elbow and the blond startled.

„Sorry Mac. Are you ok buddy?" Jack asked concerned.

„Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. It's only ... some of that blood is yours, isn't it?" It wasn't the sight of blood, that caused Macs stomach to churn. But to know, that it was partly Jacks blood unsettled him, it was a stark reminder how easily he could have lost his brother.

„Probably, but not much. Hey, it's ok. I'm fine, really. See?" To underline his words he gave Mac a punch on the biceps using his injured arm.

„Hey, what was that for?" Mac complained and rubbed the sore spot.

„Just wanted to show you, I'm good. Although it would be great, if you could do the painting on the upper part of the wall, reaching up isn't really fun with bruised ribs."

„Ok, let's get this over with, painting isn't my favourite job." Mac grabbed the ladder and put it up. Before he could climb up Jack grabbed him on the arm. „Are you serious? You're still using this rickety thing? I thought you threw it out after you almost fell off last Christmas."

„Relax Jack. It's still good and I just almost fell off, because you bumped into it. Can we start now?" He asked impatiently.

„If you say so," Jack grumbled and reached for the paintbrush. They worked in silence and several hours later they were almost done.

Jack had turned and started cleaning his paintbrush, when Mac said. „So, I think it's good ...." the rest of the sentence got lost in a cry and scattering, as the ladder gave way and Mac fell down. He crashed right into the coffee table, that broke on impact. The bucket of paint followed and covered Mac as well as the mess of broken bottles, magazines and everything else that had been on the table.

Jack was at Macs side in an instant. „Mac!" Gently touching the unmoving form of his partner. Mac had his eyes closed, but opened them when he heard Jack crying his name.

„Ups, sorry Jack!" His eyes seemed a little dazed, but cleared pretty soon. He moved to sit up, when Jack pushed him down. „Are you ok Mac? Did you hurt yourself?" He started to run his hands up and down on Macs arms and legs until Mac slapped them away before he could examine him further.

„Relax Jack. I'm good." He sat up and registered wetness in his hair, was he bleeding? He reached up and his hand came back white.

Jack started laughing, relieved that his friend seemed to be ok. Mac was a sight. Paint dripping from his hair onto his face. The rest of his body was covered in paint as well.

Mac groaned. „Sorry Jack, about the mess and the table." Jack laughed again, Mac looked like sixteen, sitting there covered in paint, with a guilty expression on his face.

„I think you need a shower bro. Go ahead I'll try and clean this shit up. You know you could have said you don't want to help me instead of throwing all the paint around," he teased.