It had been a month since Mark's reveal, and so far, things were fairly normal between the two. Their relationship hadn't advances pass the internet bromance, and it worked for the pair. Jack still was unsure of his feelings for his friend, despite enjoying the kiss that they had shared. It was clear to the Irishman, however, that Mark still had strong feelings towards him. The way he vigorously pushed septicplier, even more so than markimash, it left him feeling guilty for not returning the affection as passionately. But he also knew he couldn't force himself to fall in love with Mark. He would just have to see if the romance would bloom within himself as it did with Mark.
Even with feelings obvious between them, each kept busy with their channel, collaborating frequently, especially in person. But lately, Jack hadn't been feeling well at all, which caused him to slow down on his channel. He constantly had a high fever, sore throat, headaches, and was constantly fatigued. He thought it could have just been a cold he caught from moving into a new environment, but after two weeks of persistent symptoms which made recording near impossible, he had caved and went to a doctor. He couldn't even talk for five minutes without feeling light headed and coughing violently.
The doctors had looked him over and had drawn some blood, and he was sent home with pain killers. Now, a week after the initial visit, he was back for the results. He wasn't feeling good at all about it, he knew they wouldn't have called him in if it was good news. After a few hours of endless boredom in the waiting room, Jack was ushered into a smaller room, where a stern looking male awaited him.
"Mr.McLoughlin? I'm doctor Mays, have a seat."
"So, what's wrong with me doc?"
Jack asked nervously, wringing his hands as he sat on the stool. The doctor's eyes softened with sympathy as he grabbed a chart, which made Jack's heart drop. He just knew it couldn't be good news. His gut feeling was right.
"You have a disease, and unfortunately it is fatal. It is an extremely rare disease, and there is no known cure. From what you described about your past few weeks, we cannot determine where you contracted it. Our best guess is that you contracted it either just before you left Ireland or just arrived in America.... I am sorry. You have anywhere from three weeks to three years to live, but judging by your current condition..."
"T-there's nothing you can do?"
"I am sorry, Mr.McLoughlin... I can prescribe stronger pain medications to make next weeks easier, but in my personal opinion, go out and live the rest of your life to the fullest. Don't spend your last days wallowing in self-pity and depression. It will only make it worse."
He didn't respond; Jack was far too shocked about the news to muster up a single word. He had paled as his body trembled, tears falling down his cheeks as he stared at the floor. It couldn't be real, it just couldn't! He desperately wanted to wake up, find out that this was all just a dream, but as he looked back up at the doctor, he was faced with cold, hard, reality. Dr.Mays stood up, patting Jack's shoulder gently as he walked towards the door, and Jack had no choice but to follow.
"I scheduled an appointment for you to come back in three weeks, to check up on your condition. I really wish I could have given you better news, no one wants to hear what I told you. I have to go tend to another patient. Farewell, Mr.McLoughlin."
