R.I.P. Daniel Kyre

An angel yourself, now you fly with your kind ~

In no way, shape, or form do I intend this work to be offensive on the matter of Daniel Kyre's death. Please understand that my respect towards Mark, Cyndago, and especially Daniel is utmost. Thank you -

Time stops for no one.

It pulls at people the way that water pulls at rock - molding us and shaping us as our lives continue.

Time is brutal.

It is time that Mark realizes this.

It's been a full month now - he expected time to heal him, and perhaps it will, but not yet. No, not yet. He has never seen his eyes so dark, his mouth so set in a frown. His friends help - he needs his friends.

That's the thought that sparks him to get up on a Wednesday morning of October.

He's in a robe with slippers that are too big on his feet. His phone is still sat on the counter, where it has been plugged in for God knows how long. There are countless messages on the screen - he reads none of them. Instead, he dials the first person in his contact list he can find that his brain associates with friendship.

"...Bob?"

The conversation is short and in clipped tones. His contacts are alphabetical.

"Sean-"

"Wade…"

Three phone calls. That is all Mark did that day. And he knows he is being selfish - how could he ask them to fly all the way to L.A.? Selfish. Especially Sean, from Ireland… he is so selfish. But he is lost. Mark is lost and these three people are the only people he wants to be surrounded with right now. He knows that Cyndago is there for him as much as he is for them - but he needs smiling faces. He needs a facade. Just for a weekend. Just to make him laugh again.

The doorbell rings. Mark knew that today they would come, so he got up. He made breakfast, and saved some just in case. He showered. He got dressed. And the doorbell rings.

He honestly doesn't know who was scheduled to get here first. And he doesn't really care. Any of them on his doorstep would be fantastic. So he unlocks the door and finds Sean on his porch. Only he isn't paying attention - instead, there's a bee happily bumbling around his head, causing him to be jumping all over the place, his bags on the ground in a heap. You can visually tell that he had just come from a plane - he was sort of ragged, and his hat was pulled low over his hair. Mark cracked his first smile in weeks.

"Jack?"

Jack froze mid-judo-punch and turned slowly around.

Mark was laughing, now, hand covering his eyes in a fit.

"Oh my God, you idiot, get in here."

He pulled the Irishman into a hug. And Mark was smiling, but his hug was tight. And Jack returned, trying with all his might to send some kind of signal through the hug that it was going to be alright.

And in that moment? Mark was trying to say back, I know. Now that you're here. I know.

Bob showed up next, and finally Wade, who said he had gotten stuck at home and had to catch a later flight. But nighttime had rolled around and Mark was cooking dinner. The warm lights of his kitchen cast orange hues onto his friends smiling and laughing faces. They were all dicking around, making terrible jokes and poking fun at Wade. Mark tossed his pan impressively, laughing at his friends' mock sounds of delight.

What Mark truly appreciated was the lack of caution. No one tiptoed around him, like so many others did. No, they just threw boner jokes left and right like this was just another meeting before PAX Prime.

Dinner wrapped up all too soon, however. And Mark knew that bedtime was something he couldn't avoid. He offered up his guest room, the living room couch, and the reclining chair in the opposite room. Bob got the room, which left Wade and Jack to duke it out for better living room furniture. In the end, though, Wade got the couch. Jack grumbled as he set up a meager sleeping arrangement.

"Sorry. I'm not good at having people over - not many places to stay-" he apologized. But Jack frowned and punched his arm.

"I won't take your stupid apologies, keep 'em to yourself!" he chuckled. "I'm small! Nimble! I'll be fine." he did a little routine not unlike the one he had done to evade the bee on the front porch. Mark grinned and ruffled his hair.

"Fine then, suit yourself. If you can't sleep, though, seriously, come get me up."

And there was an underlying invitation. If you need anything, come get me up. Come get me up.

Jack let the smile on his face fade just the tiniest.

"Don't worry. I will."

I won't leave you alone.

Everyone turned in for the night.

It was probably around 2 in the morning. White moonlight peeked into Mark's room as he sat, propped against his pillows, just thinking. Nighttime was a dangerous time for him and his emotions, but tonight, all he wanted to do was just sit and think. Be with whatever thoughts were flying through his head.

If he listened closely enough, he could hear the quiet breathing of the other three in his house. It was rhythmic and calming, really, to have a background noise to his nightly expeditions. Light snoring made him smile a bit.

There was a sudden, sharp inhalation. Mark's attention snapped to the out of place sound. Inhale, exhale, - what was it?

He rolled off his bed, his socked feet padding quietly on the wooden floor.

The adjacent room had a single beam of light spilling underneath the door. The breathing was sporadic and spaced with intermittent sniffles.

Mark knew that the very last thing he should do was walk into the room.

So what did he do? He walked in the room.

Jack was sat up in the recliner. If it were under another circumstance, Mark would assume that he couldn't sleep because of the uncomfortable chair. But Jack had his phone in his lap, the light bright against his face. And his face was tear streaked.

While Mark was observing this, he didn't realize that Jack had locked onto his face. His eyes were wide in a panic.

In an instant, he had wiped the areas under his eyes roughly and coughed stretching.

"Hey, Mark, what's up? Could you not sleep?" He whispered, rubbing his eyes and swiftly turning his phone off.

"No - I don't, usually. Just like to sit and think. But -" he paused.

"Did you feel like talking?" Jack asked.

Mark shrugged. "Not about what you're thinking about. But are you ok?"

Jack chuckled softly. "O' course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Mark nodded. He didn't want to talk about it.

"I dunno. Want an ice cream bar?"

"Is that even a question?"

They both took to the kitchen, only turning on one lamp since Wade was on the couch not far from the counter they were sitting at. They ate their ice cream quietly, contently.

The sun started to rise.

"How have we been up for this long?" Jack asked, cracking his back.

"I don't know. It doesn't feel like it, does it?"

Oranges and pinks filtered their way into the room.

"Thank you." Mark said quietly, taking both of the foil wrappers and throwing them away.

"For what?"

"Everything. For coming out here. I know that it's not easy for you to just leave on such a whim, especially when it's so far-"

"Mark, come on, you know it doesn't bother me. So hush up, ok?" He smiled.

"You can talk to me, too." He whispered. "If you need to."

Jack just nodded.

"Ok."

"Jeez, how long have you two been up?" Bob said, his voice (at full volume) startling the both of them. Wade jumped, falling off of the couch unceremoniously.

"Is it breakfast?" He slurred.

Mark and Jack laughed.

Two days had passed, and to say that Mark was in better spirits was an understatement.

Simply having other humans in the house was a blessing. The usual pain of extra dishes and dirty clothes didn't bother Mark - not in the slightest. He cherished it, honestly, whistling while he worked in the laundry room.

While he was stepped out, Bob made a quick explanation to Jack.

"There's a reason we all have our flights back at very different times. You probably guessed that, right?"

Jack sighed. "Yeah. Mine's the last one, idn't it?"

Bob nodded. "For a reason, you know. We think that's the best, if not because of our need to get home, but because we think it would be good for you to be the last one to go."

"We're, like, weening him off of having people in the house. I leave first, then Bob the next day, and then whenever your flight is." Wade explained, sitting down with a mug in his hand. Jack nodded, a concentrated look on his face.

"That's gonna suck." He said quietly.

"Who's sucking?" Mark strode into the room, clothes piled in his arms. "Because if I were you, I'd wait until nighttime, honestly. But hey, I ain't judgin'!"

Jack smacked Mark's arm.

The third night, Mark sat up. He had been sleeping, lightly on the edge of a dream, when something woke him up.

The creak of a floorboard.

He swung his legs out from under the duvet and looked out from his bedroom.

A figure in a blue hoodie snuck out of sight into the kitchen. Moonlight caught his frame just as he turned the corner - his hands were shoved deeply into his jacket pockets.

Mark left the room and padded after him, turning the corner just as the back door slid closed to the backyard.

Mark thought about this for a moment.

Jack was an interesting person. He didn't exactly ever want to talk about his own issues - whether it was for sanity or because he was just too people orientated to burden others with whatever he had going on. So if Mark went out there right now and tried to comfort him, (because let's be realistic, there was obviously something wrong) chances were, he wouldn't want to say anything. But hey. Mark wouldn't be going back to sleep at this point. The clock turned to 1:00 A.M.

Mark walked past Wade just as he inhaled a snore. He bit his tongue to keep from laughing at his friend, whose mouth was hanging open with a thin line of drool at the edge. There was a sock on the floor - Mark got to the back door and slipped out. It closed with a satisfying click - a click loud enough to grab the attention of the man crouched on the step.

Jack sniffed and covered his face with his jacket sleeves. "God dammit, Mark, I woke you, didn't I?"

Mark shrugged. "Not like it matters, buttercup." He sat down next to Jack and stared at the sky, waiting.

"Why did you come out here?"

"Because you're being weird, and I want to have a sappy chat with you."

Jack chuckled a bit, rubbing at his eyes again.

"What's wrong, Sean?"

"It's not your concern, and it shouldn't be. I don't want to-"

"Burden me with your problems, yes, I know, I've heard it all before. You remember how good of a listener I am, though, right?"

Jack sighed and put his hands down. His eyes were red and his face was just a tad paler.

"Yeah, I know, Mark, but now of all times is not appropriate for me to be -"

"Please." Mark said quietly. He looked back up at the stars. "I think this would be good for the both of us. Your issue will take my mind off of mine. And I could help you. Probably. No promises, of course, I'm not a miracle worker."

Jack laughed.

"Well, I mean…" Jack hesitated.

"Take your time. We have all morning."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Mark started counting the stars. He got to 56 before Jack spoke again. Mark hadn't realized he had started to cry again.

"Wiishu broke up with me." He said. His voice seemed small, especially for the Irishman. Mark inhaled.

"Really? After all this time?"

Jack nodded. He breathed in shakily.

"We had talked just a few days before I left. At the time, she didn't know I was going. She told me that things were getting a bit rocky, and she wasn't exactly sure if it was going to keep working. We decided to give it one more shot." he breathed deeply. "Then I left. And...the night I got here, she sent me this super long voicemail. And she was really calm and apologetic, but…"

Mark put his arm around Jack as he inhaled sharply and sniffled.

"I didn't - didn't fulfill, I guess. I - I put too much into my channel and not enough into our relationship." He paused to take a long, deep breath in. His voice turned, a bit calmer now.

"She didn't want to call while I was away. She didn't want to have to call at all. But she felt like she had lost the meaning in our relationship, and didn't want to lead me on." He leaned into Mark's hug. "She said she was sorry. I'm sorry, too."

Silence.

"If that's truly what she felt, then I'm glad that she told you that. It would have hurt more for you to slowly fall out of love than to rip the bandaid off now. I'm so sorry, I am so so sorry that this is how it had to happen. But in the long run? You'll be happier. Believe me, please. I may not have been in many relationships, but the ones I have been in have ended… harshly."

"I'm being a big baby, I'm sorry -" Jack started to get up, but Mark shushed him and pulled him back down.

"You're not being dumb. If you say that again, I will throw you into the pool."

There was a dejected chuckle.

"I can't believe that you're letting me do this."

"Do what?" Mark asked, confused. Jack pulled himself from under Mark's arm.

"This. Give you my issues. This isn't the point of this trip. I didn't fly 8,000 fucking kilometers to unload my crap." He angrily ran a hand through his hair. "I came here for you."

Mark just smiled. "Has anything else been bothering you, Sean? It's so much nicer to talk in person. Last time, Skype didn't do it justice."

Jack groaned and fell back, hands over his eyes. "Why do you do this to me. Why are you so nice after everything?"

"Because I don't want anyone to be as sad as I was. I don't want anyone to have to experience it like I did. Alone."

Jack looked at him through his fingers.

"Sean McLoughlin, I swear to God if you apologize to me right now-"

"I'm sorry."

Mark threw his hands up in the air.

"You are impossible."

"I know." Jack sighed.

A pause.

"Can I ask you something, Sean?"

Jack's ears burned with his real name. He noticed that that had been all he had heard since Mark had come out here with him. He liked the ring of his name, but only when certain people said it. He liked when Mark said it - he also liked when Wiishu said it. In fact, that was all she would say - he had to forcibly pull his head back into reality.

"Of course. Ask away."

Mark was staring at the sky again. "Do you think that there's an afterlife?"

Jack stared at Mark, his profile against the navy sky.

"I think there's something. What variation of the afterlife it is, I don't know, but something."

Mark nodded. And he smiled.

"I like the prospect of stars, personally." Mark said. And he turned and met Jack's eyes. "Or some celestial body. Just sitting there in the sky, surrounded by others just like 'em. And they're always there - we just don't necessarily see them until the darkness comes."

And they both just looked at each other.

"And I don't think you have to have died to become a star. I think we're all stars - we're all up in the sky." Mark continued. He looked back up and pointed. Jack tried to follow his finger.

"Like that one. See it? It's small, but bright and surrounded by a bunch of other stars. That one's you."

Mark pointed in a different direction, this time more towards the horizon. "And that one? It's dim right now because it's so far from us. But you and I know that once the earth turns around a bit, we'll be able to see it. That one is me. I'll get brighter. It'll just take time."

Jack just sat in silence, watching as Mark named off countless people as stars in the sky.

"That one is Wiishu. See how she's right above us? She loves you, Sean, and she won't stop loving you. But not like how you knew it. See how bright that star is? It's going to find another star just as bright." and he pointed back at the original star, the one that represented Jack. "Just like there's plenty of stars around you. You're going to heal."

It was quiet for a moment. Then Mark chuckled softly.

"And that one?"

Mark pointed to a little line of stars that Jack thought was Orion's belt. There was one that was brighter than any other star he could see, and it twinkled and sparkled against its dark backdrop.

"That one is Daniel."

Mark was smiling. But tears were streaking down his face.

Jack just held him close.

They sat on the little step in the little backyard looking up at the big sky until Mark fell asleep. Jack was close to sleeping as well, and before he knew it, they were tangled in an uncomfortable lump on the step fast asleep.

The sun took the stars away.

"What's up with them?" Bob asked, striding into the living room. Wade only shrugged.

"I have no idea."

Mark and Jack were both sprawled on the concrete, sound asleep. They're limbs were interlocked at odd angles. Bob laughed.

"I'm not waking them up."

Wade shook his head. "Nah."

The sun burned against Mark's eyelids like some kind of terrible wake up call. As his brain slowly started turning, his nerves gave him a friendly reminder that his entire body hurt. Why? He didn't have the slightest idea, but as he started to move, he became hyper-aware of the other human being next to him.

Ah, yes, the memories came flooding back to him.

He sat up groggily. The sun was rising in overhead and bathing the two of them in yellow light. As soon as he started moving, almost every joint in his body popped and cracked. He grimaced. Why hadn't they just gone inside? Now he felt like bugs were crawling in his shirt and he had a terrible pain in his back.

"Jack?" he prodded the man. His arms, which had been loosely encircling him, hit the ground with a little thud. His eyes popped open and he groaned.

"Oh, God…"

"I know."

Mark stood and offered a hand to help him up.

Both of them trudged inside in hunched-over positions, soreness making them cranky. Wade was bustling around the kitchen.

"Morning, lovelies!" he cooed.

They both grumbled at him in low undertones.

"Oh, you're up! Fantastic." Bob came up behind them and clapped them each on the shoulder. They cursed at him.

"Hey, lovebirds, what do you want in your pancakes?" Wade called. Jack's face heated up instantly. Mark laughed.

"Blueberries!" He answered. Jack followed with chocolate.

They all three sat and watched Wade flip the pancakes like he was some kind of master chef. And though Bob and Wade teased them for their sleeping habit the previous night, they never did pry as to what they were doing out there in the first place.

It was getting close to time for Wade - he was spending today packing back up. It was a lazy day, to say the least, and Mark was simply fine with that. They all sat around in the living room playing prop hunt, laughing like children. None of them knew if they were really going to upload these episodes, but it didn't matter, because they were having fun.

"God dammit, you guys!" Wade said, smacking his hand on the couch. Bob was doubled over, crying with laughter.

"Waaaaaade!" Mark whined, his voice drowned out by Jack's outbursts as he skirted away Mark. The little can wove between Mark's legs and down another corridor, zig-zagging like crazy.

"Oh for the love of - Jack!" He yelled.

"Yes, dear?"

Wade snorted as the timer expired and props won.

Jack was rolling on the floor, his laptop sitting beside him, just dying of laughter. Mark made a face at him.

"Hey, don't hate the player, hate the game." he said once he had calmed down. Mark had to sit back for a moment.

"Did you seriously just say that?"

"You bet I did, sugar tits."

"Oh my -" Mark got up and punched Jack's arm. Jack made a noise of outrage.

"Hey!" he punched Mark back. But Mark was on his feet, and danced around Jack, ruffling his hair as he went behind him. Jack twisted to try and get a better vantage, but Mark circled to the front, then, booping Jack in the stomach. Jack squealed.

"Cut it out, would ya?" he cried as Mark started mercilessly poking his abdomen. Jack was rolling in giggles. "Stop -stop, I'm - I'm ticklish! H-hey!"

Wade and Bob were dying at the spectacle. But as they watched, they also made eye contact across the couches. Bob smiled and nodded slightly.

Mark was going to be fine, and they knew that the decision to let Jack stay behind the longest was the smartest.

And then, there were three.

Wade had left that next morning. And though they always beat up on Wade, Mark truly loved the guy and thanked him over and over and repeatedly gave him hugs.

Wade had laughed. "Mark, it's fine, you know that I didn't mind coming," he said, and he hugged him back tightly. "Call me later, okay?"

Mark nodded into the hug.

Now, with just Bob and Jack, they tried to decide what to do with their day. Bob's last day, that is. He had packed the night before as to give himself the most optimum time performance.

Mark, who was still in his pyjamas, was shuffling around in the fridge. He made a disappointed noise.

"We probably need to go to the store, honestly…" he said. Jack and Bob, both already dressed, said that Mark had better hurry and go get dressed, then. Mark scurried down the hall.

Bob sighed. Jack looked at his hands. There was a subject hanging in the air unspoken that they both wanted to vocalize, but didn't exactly know how. Bob opened his mouth.

"Ok, so," he laughed, scratching his neck. "I've been dying to know, why were you two outside a few nights ago?" and he paused. "I mean, unless it was something personal, in which case-"

"No, no, it was just…" Jack had to think about what to say.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went outside to get some fresh air. Of course, Mark probably wasn't sleeping either. He does that a lot, it seems. He found me on the step. We just talked. About stars." he smiled a bit, still looking at his hands. "It was sort of, like, a therapy session for the both of us. We didn't mean to fall asleep - my back is still killing me, especially since I've been sleeping in the recliner." he shrugged. "Guess I get to upgrade to the couch, now."

Bob was quiet. Jack looked up at him.

"Ok, if you don't mind me talking about this - " Bob started.

"Hey, buttercups, let's get a mooooove on!" Mark hollered, swinging into the room. Instantly, Bob and Jack were up beside him. Jack just had to wait in agony to see what Bob was going to talk about. And he obviously didn't want to say anything in front of Mark, which made it… difficult. But they went to the store anyway, and probably had a bit more fun than they should have had.

After having an all out battle at the supermarket to see who could complete their list first, the trio crashed back onto the couch in laughter. They had split up individually to see who could complete their lists the quickest. Of course, Bob won, but only courtesy to the idiocy of Jack and Mark. There was no surprise there.

While Bob was calmly walking down each aisle, occasionally picking up something he needed, Mark and Jack were sprinting through the store, skidding around corners at impossible velocities. While trying to round one corner, Mark had knocked over at least half of a display of paper towels. Taking advantage of Mark's slowed pace while he quietly cleaned it back up, Jack started running down the non-breakable aisle. Because of this, his hands grabbed at the shelves madly, things simply falling into his cart. But when he went to turn the other side of the aisle, his cart collided with Mark's and they both ended up on the floor fighting for whose stuff was whose.

Yeah, the employees loved them that morning.

Mark was going to whip up a nice dinner that night, as he had done previously for Wade. A send-off meal, he kept calling it. And a thank you. He made Wade's favorite the night before, and tonight, he was doing the same favor for Bob.

As he clanked around in the kitchen, Bob turned the music up a few clicks and leaned in closer to Jack.

"If you don't mind resuming our previous conversation…"

Jack leaned forward, too. Their voices were hardly audible to the opposite, so they knew that Mark wouldn't be able to hear. Jack was dying to know what had been on Bob's mind.

"Ok. Be honest with me here, please. Because this involves Mark, and I care about Mark. We both do, and it's in his best interest if you answer me honestly."

Jack only nodded. What was he getting at, exactly?

"Do you - you know, happen to have any - any feelings towards Mark? Yeah, ok, hold on, hold on, before you say anything, I know it's the big joke. Haha, Jack's got a crush on Mark and whatever, but legitimately I need to know."

Jack's mind couldn't quite keep up. His mouth helped him out. "Why do you need to know." He didn't pose it as a question.

Bob didn't get the chance to respond. Again.

Mark threw himself onto the couch, straight into Jack's lap. Jack grunted, the wind knocked out of him.

"Mark! Seriously?" he laughed. But his laugh was tight, and seemed unnatural. To him, at least. He didn't make eye contact with Bob as Mark looked up at him, his head in Jack's lap. Those puppy dog eyes were making an appearance. Mark wrapped his arms around Jack's torso.

"You guys are gossiping, and I want to know what about!" he stuck his bottom lip out like a three year old.

Jack was extremely aware of the hands on his back and the floof on his leg. He was positive his face was at least six different shades of pink. He prayed Mark didn't notice. He had to play this off as well as possible - and he was not good at playing things off.

"Hey, none of your business!" he tried to push Mark off of him, but when provoked, Mark only grabbed Jack tighter.

They both rolled off the couch into a painful heap.

Bob was dying of laughter.

Jack groaned. There was a knee in his ribcage and an elbow on his shoulder.

"Mark, you weigh a thousand pounds, get off-" he grunted in trying to push him off yet again. Still, Mark wouldn't budge. Instead, he resituated and pinned Jack's shoulders down with his hands. Then he just smirked.

"You're trapped."

"You're a complete dick."

"If you had only asked nicely for me to get off…"

"Please get off me."

"You don't sound very polite."

"Please."

Mark laughed. "Dinner's ready."

Then he stood, dusted off his pants, gave a thrusting wink to Bob and Jack, and pranced back over the other side of the couch into the kitchen. "C'mon, slow pokes!"

Jack met Bob's eyes. Bob only smiled sadly.

"He's hopelessly crushing on you, you complete idiot." Bob said.

Mark had turned in for the night, having fallen asleep on the couch previously. The duo had sentenced Mark to bed since he hadn't really slept well the night before. He trudged off to his bedroom like a toddler sent to time out, but they could both hear him snoring not long after the lights were out.

Now, Bob and Jack's conversation was in full swing for the third time that day.

Bob's words hit Jack in the face like a semi. "You're kidding. You're kidding?"

Bob just gave him that… Bob face. Jack fell back into the cushions and covered his face.

"I know that you have a girlfriend and this is really inappropriate, but that's why it's important. Because I don't want you doing something stupid and let him get his heart broken. For the love of God, you fell asleep tangled in a lump together. I'm asking because I'm concerned."

Jack shook his hands. Many things were being implied that were not true. "Woah, woah, back up. First of all, please never assume I would intentionally do anything to hurt him. You haven't known me for that long, but come on, Bob, lead him on? After all of the shit he's gone through? I would have to be a heartless dickbag to do that, and I can hardly kill the bugs that sit on the walls in my house without feeling guilty."

Bob was listening intently.

"Second of all, no, I do not have a girlfriend."

Bob made a confused face. Jack breathed a deep breath and told his story from when Wiishu first approached him to when he told all of this to Mark. He explained their conversation about the stars. He tried not to cry - and mostly succeeded. Bob just sat, occasionally nodding.

Then it was quiet. Mark's snores were the only things that cracked the silence of the household. The only light still on was a lonely lamp in the living room. It was a sort of sickly yellow. Jack didn't like that lamp. He didn't like the silence.

"Please don't hurt him. I know what you said. I believe you, Jack. I'm trusting that you'll do the right thing."

Jack stared at Bob. And Bob smiled.

"I'm sorry about Wiishu. And I'm sorry I had to be so upfront. But thank you, for explaining."

He started to get up.

"Mark's going to be in good hands."

And he went to bed.

Jack was left sitting alone on the couch with the ugly yellow lamp contemplating what the hell he was meant to do.

Then, there were two.

It was Friday morning. Jack was leaving Saturday night, at around 8:00. When he woke up in the guest bed on Friday morning, he could already smell bacon and eggs cooking.

Mark heard him enter. "Morning, sunshine!" he sang, not even bothering to turn around. There was no need to distinguish who was who anymore. Jack came up behind Mark, who was in a cheesy "Kiss the Cook!" apron with a large emoji blowing a kiss on it. He looked at the pan of sizzling bacon.

"Smells good!" he remarked. Mark looked over his shoulder and beamed. Jack's whole perspective was wonky, and he had to swallow a lump in his throat. God dammit, Bob, God fucking dammit, you had to bring that up, had to go and change how he sees him…

"Do you want muffins?" Mark asked. Jack snapped back in and shrugged.

"Sure, want me to make them?"

"Only if I can trust you to not burn them."

"No guarantees, pretty boy."

Mark made a kissy face. "Bite me."

"Maybe later."

It was like one of their twitter conversations was coming to life. Jack quickly had to disappear to get the muffin mix and collect himself. Why was he being so weird about this? Why did he have to be so stupid?

It would be a miracle if he survived breakfast.

If it was a miracle to survive breakfast, than Jack was the second incarnation of Christ. He had survived breakfast, lunch, and now even dinner by some miracle of God.

The sun was setting and leaving shadows in its wake. Iron Man 3 was playing on TV, which Mark insisted Jack finally watch. As the movie rolled, Mark quoted various scenes.

"How many times have you seen this, exactly?" Jack laughed. Mark shushed him.

"Unimportant. Watch."

So Jack watched. And yeah, it was a fine movie, and he felt kind of bad that he wasn't paying that much attention to it. But really, can you blame him for it when you see his situation?

Mark owned this huge blanket - unfolded, with people stretching it at all corners, it would cover his entire living room. It was horrifically ugly - a sort of Aztec pattern was splayed across the middle in various dark green and blues. The background was muddy brown. But the blanket was very soft and very warm - Jack could vouch for that.

Mark lugged this blanket out from the some closet of old Christmas decoration hell and plopped it down on Jack's head, stating, "Bring me the remote. We're watching a movie tonight and I don't care what it is."

"Why the blanket, then?" Jack had mused, pushing the wool from his shoulders and back and into a heap on the couch. He grabbed the remote from the coffee table.

"Well, you ding dong, you can't very well watch a movie without a cozy blanket, now can you?"

"Mark, it's like, 90 degrees outside."

Mark had his arms crossed over his chest. "Does it look like I care very much?"

And so they hunted for a movie.

Flash forward to present - Jack and Mark were sharing the blanket. And you would think that that's no big deal, right? I mean, it was previously stated that the blanket could cover the room. Jack and Mark could sit on opposite couches and still have plenty of Aztec warmth. But apparently, that was no good for Mark.

"No, you're doing it wrong."

"There's a wrong way to watch a movie?" Jack asked, clicking through the channels leisurely.

"Yes, of course there - OH STOP, I love that movie!" he shouted, hurtling over the back of the couch and flopping onto the cushions. He had that blanket in his arms.

"How could I possibly be doing it wrong? We don't even have a movie on yet, Mark-"

"You're set up all wrong. Not snuggled in enough." Mark demonstrated by nestling under the wool. Jack laughed at how ridiculous he looked.

"I dunno how you normally watch movies, but I'm fine like this." he had his hands crossed behind his head and his feet propped up on the coffee table. His shoes were still on, as well as his jeans and sweatshirt. He noticed Mark had those long pajama pants on with the Markiplier M's and mustaches on them. His shirt was plain white and looked old.

Mark made an offended noise - or at least, that's what Jack assumed. He sounded more like a dolphin than anything. "First thing wrong - your outfit. Go change immediately."

Jack grumbled, but stood up and complied. When he had returned, he sat back down in the same spot he was in beforehand. Mark tutted impatiently.

"No no, you silly -" he huffed and pillowed the blanket, letting it unfurl a bit. He lifted the side of it.

"Come here."

It's funny. Many small words, small phrases have more power over us than entire monologues can. And those two words - coming from Mark's mouth, at least, sent Jack's heart into overdrive. He had to physically close his eyes, just for a second, and keep his mind from wandering down any path that correlated to his and Bob's conversations.

"Ok."

Back to present. Mark was slouched down into the cushions - well, more into Jack than the cushions, really. His back was sort of in his lap. His head was tilted back on Jack's chest. On the coffee table, both of their legs were resting, sort of intertwined. And Jack's fingers played with the ends of Mark's hair lightly.

There was an explosion on screen.

Jack hardly noticed.

His head was focused only on the man in his lap. Every thought pointed to the texture of Mark's hair. His hands moved slowly, lightly, but deliberately. He worked through the tangles and the stuck together bits from pink dye. Every so often, he would brush against his scalp and Mark would only burrow further into the cocoon they had developed. The Aztec pattern was bent and folded over their forms.

The clock struck 10:00.

Whatever conflicts that had been previously going on in the movie were being resolved, apparently. Jack tuned back in for the final fifteen minutes. When it ended, and the commercial breaks started up again, Mark sighed.

"Isn't that movie just the absolute best?" He asked, his voice excited, but low and tired. Jack smiled.

"Yeah. It's the absolute best."

Mark tiled his head back to look at Jack. Jack's hand dropped to the side.

Neither of them said anything.

Don't look at his lips. Don't look at his lips.

He looked at Mark's lips.

And Mark grinned.

Mark ducked his head back down and breathed deeply. "Play with my hair again. That was nice."

"I didn't really think you were paying attention to it." Jack said, but he threaded his hands through the glorious floof. Mark chuckled.

Some late night crap was on the TV now. They weren't paying attention. The light coming from the screen was really the only light on in the house. Jack watched the colors change across Mark's profile.

"Ok. Here's a question." Mark finally spoke.

"Alright."

"Why do you like me so much?"

Jack choked. Not physically, but mentally. Every wandering thought, every passing word, everything just froze and zeroed in on the question. Mark shifted slightly, Jack noticed.

"Well, what I mean is - you've liked me forever. No, okay, I'm phrasing this wrong -" Mark said. He thought for a moment, twisting the blanket in his hands. Jack's heart was going a million miles a minute. He was sure, with how Mark's head was pressed to his chest, that Mark could hear every fleeting beat.

"You've always wanted to meet me, do a collaboration with me - that sort of stuff. And of course, before we had really met, I appreciated it and all but - it just confused me. Because you weren't a fan - not like the kind that flurry in the comments and what not. You were a youtuber. And yeah, you were small, but it was a different kind of admiration that you always gave me. I was just curious - what drew you in?"

Jack swallowed.

"Honestly?"

Mark looked up at Jack again.

"Yeah. Honest answers only during the nighttime chit-chats."

Jack sighed, but a small smile played at his lips.

"Initially? Your hair."

Mark cracked up. "You're joking. My hair used to be that little - shark-fin thing, you couldn't have possibly been drawn in by my shark fin."

Jack laughed, too. His hands casually twirled a bit of hair around his finger. "Yup. The glorious floof wasn't even around yet." but Jack sighed. "Really, though, you were just so - down to earth. I had never, ever watched a youtuber with that much appreciation and attention to detail for his channel. It inspired me so much - "

"Stop, I'm blushing."

Jack smacked Mark's head. He chuckled.

"That was the only thing I cared about when I started my channel." Mark said. "Being kind. Being sociable. Being human. I didn't care about numbers, or what my videos were about, I cared that I was being myself."

It was quiet for another moment.

"Thank you, you know." Jack said softly.

"For what?"

"Being so accepting."

"Well, I mean-"

"No, no, not of your fanbase or whatever," Jack said. "Thank you for being so accepting of me."

Mark twisted to look at Jack better, but Jack was staring at the back door. He was staring at the stars.

"I didn't know that people could be this kind. I was lonely. Really lonely. And you, Bob, Wade… that PAX panel? I didn't think I would ever find friends that fast. Of course Ken and Felix… everyone, so quickly they…" he trailed off. "I'm so lucky. Thank you."

"I didn't do anything special. It was for my benefit to befriend you. Look at me now - you're keeping me afloat." Mark replied.

"Bob and Wade could have done that just fine."

"Not like this."

Jack finally met Mark's eyes at his last statement.

His hand had stopped twirling Mark's hair.

He's hopelessly crushing on you…

With every ounce of caution and every speck of love he had, Jack leaned down and kissed him.

{four or so years later}

Hundreds, thousands of people were here. Millions, even, Mark could guess. It was December 31, 2019. Mark was in New York.

He opted for not trying to squeeze into the square. It was not as romantic as people played it out to be. Rather, he was in a bar upstate with Wade and Molly, and Bob and Mandy. The trio plus wives hadn't seen each other in ages. Life had gotten in the way. Time wasn't kind to them that year, hindering them from leisurely travels and visits. Mark looked at his feet.

It was five minutes until the ball dropped. Everyone was glued to a television screen in the bar. 99% of the population in the bar was very drunk, or at least intoxicated. Mark was the 1%. His disability to drink was making him grumpy all night. His lack of boyfriend was making him even grumpier. Let me clarify - his lack of having a boyfriend here at this moment was making him even grumpier. Mark had a boyfriend, but he was far away. Mark's shoelaces grew even more interesting.

Three minutes until the ball dropped. Mark almost bought a drink. He slipped his phone from his pocket.

Two minutes until the ball dropped. His fingers hovered over the number on the screen. Mark knew that it was well into 2020 on that side of the world, and it wouldn't exactly be considerate to call at 5:00 A.M.

One minute.

The chanting in the bar grew louder and more rhythmic. 49, 48, 47…

Mark put his phone away.

25, 24, 23…

He looked up at a TV.

10, 9, 8…

And he sighed.

"Happy New Year!"

"Welcome 2020!"

There was a chorus of raucous cheering. Laughing.

New Year's kisses.

And Mark smiled tightly. Because he was happy, seeing his friends so in love. But he was also aware of the lack of arms around his waist. The lack of hands in his hair. The absence of lips on his lips.

He picked up his glass of soda.

"To 2020." he said. Nobody heard him.

{June of 2020}

Mark laughed as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. His phone, plugged in next to his bed, was lit up with texts and voicemails. Going in order from first to last, he read birthday message after birthday message. 31 years old today - he smiled.

The first message on the list was from none other than his best friend. The convenient time difference made it easy for the message to be the first he received, the timestamp from 12:02 A.M. that morning. He chuckled at the cheesy voicemail.

Mark wasn't a selfish person - in fact, he had just been thinking to himself that he in no way deserved all this. But a small voice in the back of his mind politely reminded him that there was no message from his boyfriend. And as the day wore on, the weight in his chest grew bigger and bigger.

Three days later, Mark made two phone calls.

{September of 2020}

Mark sat on the back porch step, and he looked at the stars.

He started to count them.

He got to 56. Then the back door opened.

"Mark? Come on, you should be asleep. We've got a big day tomorrow."

And he sat down next to him. Mark didn't look over; instead, he looked for a very specific star. A very bright star.

"Do you remember? When we sat here five years ago? And I told you about the stars?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, Mark. I remember. I remember that whole trip. How could I forget?"

It was quiet.

"Five years have never gone so fast."

"I know, Mark. For you, perhaps. My five years has gone incredibly slow."

"Do tell."

"I wasn't sharing them with you. Time didn't like that. It made my waiting seem like eons."

Mark leaned on his shoulder. "You have me now."

"I had you five years ago, too. Why didn't you stay?"

"Because I was scared." Mark admitted. "I was scared what would happen when I finally got what I wanted for so long."

He laughed. "You shouldn't have been scared. I was the one that kissed you."

Mark sighed. "Ah, yes, our glorious first kiss."

"Our first and only kiss."

"Don't tell me you're still bitter about that." Mark said.

"Yeah, I am. But I can forgive. Just don't ask me to forget."

Silence.

"You remember which stars I compared us to, right?" Mark asked. He nodded.

"Of course. I was small and bright, and you - you were far off and dim."

Mark pointed in the sky, smiling. "See those two stars?"

"Which ones, those two?"

"Yes, those two, you dork. They're bright, aren't they?"

He nodded.

"And they're right next to each other."

He nodded again.

"That's us now." Mark finished.

"Amazing what five years can do."

Five years ago, this exact day, Sean and Mark sat on this step and stared at the stars. Mark knew that it was this exact day because tomorrow was Daniel's commemoration, a small, happy celebration for Mark and company to reminisce and appreciate how far they've come.

Mark remembered the date of Sean's trip to LA five years ago so well because he marked the days after on his calendar in red.

'First kiss.'

And that was all.

Mark and Sean never acted upon anything. In fact, after their trip was over, and Sean went back to Ireland, both of them started dating around. Mark had no real idea as to why he didn't allow himself to simply take what was right before him. And because he had turned Sean away, when that was all he really wanted, Sean turned away, too. He was irked - a little irritated that Mark had set him up for all of that, and then never truly done anything with it.

So Sean met this guy, Devin. And they were in a relationship for about a year when Devin suddenly broke it off. Sean suspected it was because he had another relationship with a girl across town.

And Mark met many guys. There was Alan, Luke, Casey, Jaxon. Most recently was Will. But all of them lasted for about three months and then fell apart. Mark just never fell in love with anyone. Not like he had before. And he was so mad at himself for not taking that chance.

When his birthday had finally rolled around, he hadn't heard from Will in about five days. And after his birthday passed, plus an additional three days and still no word, he called him and broke up.

Then he called Sean.

And he invited Sean to come out for the commemoration.

When Sean received the call from Mark, he lept on the phone. Sean was very single, not having dated as many as Mark had. He had been single for about three months now. And he was a terrible dweller of the past. He was terrible at lying to himself.

And here they were. Sean had arrived two days prior. And Mark hugged him, hugged him so tightly. And he apologized.

Matt and Ryan had been there to greet Sean as well. And they didn't exactly understand why Mark was crying, but Sean knew as soon as the apology left Mark's lips. And Sean kissed his forehead and smiled.

"It's ok."

Now they were on that step. And Mark was leaning on Sean's shoulder. He was leaning on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"It's been a long time coming." Mark said. "To officially have you as mine."

"I've been waiting for it as much as you have."

"I doubt that."

Sean shifted. "With as many people as you were going out with, I imagined it wasn't hard for you to shake me from your mind." but he sighed. "Sorry. It's not like we were ever together to begin with, so I have no right to -"

"No, you do have a right. I was a huge dick." Mark sat up and looked at Sean. "I'm just glad I can start fixing that now, for good."

Mark kissed him with lost apologies still on his lips.

{present}

Jack and Mark kissed once. Then they just laid there, their eyes wandering, minds wandering.

"What does this mean?" Jack asked hesitantly.

"I don't know." Mark answered.

They turned the TV off.

"I'm sorry." Jack said.

"I love you." Mark answered.

The silence in the air smothered them more than the woolen blanket. But they weren't uncomfortable. Somehow, both of them were equally astounded and calm about the whole ordeal. Jack started to drift off.

"With the way I'm living my life right now, do you think Daniel would be proud of me?" Mark asked, quietly, reverently.

Jack looked down at him. "Right now? Yes. I think he would."

"What if I do something stupid? What if I disappoint him?"

Jack sighed. "You could never disappoint him, Mark. He loves you too much to ever be disappointed. No matter how you decide to live your life, he's going to be proud. Yeah, you will do some stupid stuff, but I know you, Mark Fischbach. Whatever you do, he's going to be proud."

Quiet.

"Remember what you told me? He's that star in the sky, watching over you. He knows what good you're doing for the world. You're making people happy. There's no better thing you can do."

Mark nodded.

"Goodnight, Sean."

"Goodnight, Mark."

{2020, little step}

"Would Daniel be proud of me, still?"

Sean chuckled. "I've never lied to you. My comment still stands. Do you remember what I said, after all this time?"

"How could I forget anything you say to me? But I'm a doubtful person."

"Of course he's proud of you, Mark. He never stopped being proud. You're simply earning his respect in different ways."

"Thank you, so much." Mark all but whispered.

"I love you." Sean whispered back.