I'm Just Septic-Eyed

Chapter 7: At the Door

A/N: In case you didn't know, No Good Deed is a song from Wicked. No good deed goes unpunished... *EDIT: PRETEND YOU DIDN'T SEE THIS CHAPTER WITHOUT A TITLE. I TOTALLY DIDN'T FORGET TO ADD ONE*

Two Weeks Later

Mark stared at the missing persons paper stapled to the bulletin board. It was a student that went to his college. He knew who it was, he could easily recognize the face. That broad smile looked so carefree. Yet he never thought Taurtis would go missing. He had a slight suspicion Sam was behind it but no one had seen Sam in a while either. The difference between the two disappearances was that Taurtis's was reported. Sam's absence wasn't which didn't clear up any fear Mark held for the past fourteen days. It just made it much worse.

With a heavy sigh Mark turned and left. Sean was at home sick. As much as he wanted to go to class he just couldn't get out of bed. Mark walked down the street weighted with his thoughts. The police had questioned everyone in the student apartment complexes two days ago.  Sean and Mark were apparently the last people to see Taurtis. They told the police everything. From Sean getting kicked over in class to Taurtis walking away from them. They had asked for a description of Sam but neither men could give one. Mark had never seen him before and Sean, well, couldn't see. The officers thanked them for their cooperation and left.

As soon as Mark locked the door he heard something jingling. He turned around with a big grin and greeted the dog that happily sat before him. He got down to the dog's height and began rubbing her while she licked his face. "You've been a good girl right, Chica?" Mark laughed. After a week of trying, Mark had finally convinced Sean to get a service dog. She was everything they wanted in a pet. Mark stood up and Chica followed him into Sean's room.

Sean smiled when he heard Mark step into the room. Chica jumped onto the bed and rest her head on Sean's lap. "Are you feeling any better?" Mark leaned against the door frame. He knew how much Sean hated missing school. Especially if it was from being sick.

Sean shrugged. "I'm not dead yet, so that's a good sign." His voice came out pinched from congestion.

"It always is." Mark smirked. He glanced at the time on his phone. "Well I have class in two hours. You need me to run to the store or anything?"

"Any alcohol you can get your hands on." Sean felt for the water bottle resting against his desk. Once his hand wrapped around it he added, "Please."

"Listen, I know you're Irish and all --"

"That's racist."

"-- but you're not gonna get any better trying to drink your sickness away." Mark crossed his arms over his chest. His voice came out stern like a mother trying to prove a point.

Sean threw his head back and whined. "But I'm in pain, Mark. Please? C'mon." He pouted a bit. "I'll promise not to drink the next time I get sick. Just as long as you please get me something this time. It makes me feel a hell of a lot better."

Mark rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "I'm not supporting your drinking problems, Jack."

"I don't have a drinking problem," Sean replied absolutely offended. He nearly choked on his water in an attempt to answer fast enough. "I've hardly drank anything since I started school."

Mark pushed himself off the frame. "I'll get you some soup." This earned a huff of bitterness from Sean. "Be back in about twenty minutes. I'll leave Chica here with you." Mark stopped himself from leaving the room completely. He said in a low serious voice, "I swear to God, Jack, if you find a way to get any source of alcohol into the apartment I will end you. Got it?"

Sean waved his hand in dismissal and partial annoyance.  Mark took that as a yes and headed out of the apartment. Sean sighed silently. At least he tried. He put his hand on Chica's head and stroked her fur. Secretly Sean was really glad to have Chica. Now that the white cane was all wonky he didn't really have a good guide. There was something about her that made him feel safe. Of course Sean would never say that to Mark. He would break out into his "I told you so" speeches and constantly giggle in triumph.

"You think I can convince him eventually, Chica?" Sean asked the dog. He, of course, got no response but her panting. Sean smiled anyway. "I don't think I can, either." He continued petting her. Ever since the police came Sean had a growing anxiety he couldn't quite place. Was it fear for Taurtis? For himself? Of what Sam could do? The last thing Sean needed was another panic attack. He was more than pleased that Mark never questioned the last one. He refused to think about it.

For a while Sean just sat there petting Chica and contemplating life. He began to doze off but he thought he heard the door being pushed open. He wasn't sure because his ears were stuffy a bit from his nose. But sensing Chica's head rise off his lap confirmed his idea. Sean didn't think much of it, but he barely noticed that Chica didn't get excited like she usually did when Mark returned home. 

Chica leaped off the bed and bounded toward the front door. It was then that Sean had a bad feeling crawling up his spine. His breath hitched when he heard a noise he wasn't quite used to -- Chica's barking. She wasn't barking for play, she was barking as a warning. Vicious and full of intent to hurt whatever she was barking at. It was then that Sean realized the horrible truth.

That wasn't Mark at the door.

A/N: It's a bit short, sorry about that. I'll make the next one longer :)