you saved the world from me [septiplier]

xiii. where i was a fool

And then I felt chills in my bones, the breath I saw was not my own

-twenty one pilots; a car a torch a death

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M: Hey, Jack, would you mind coming over? I kinda need someone right now...

J: be there in a sec

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Mark sat motionless on the sofa with a cup of coffee in his hands. He didn't move – couldn't move – until Jack entered his house with the key he'd been given. His friend's arms encircled his body in a tight embrace and Mark finally released all of his pent up emotions. He'd remained strong for the past few weeks, acting as if he wasn't concerned about anything at all, acting as if it was something he'd get over and he bounce back unharmed, but it wasn't. Anti's flames had been in his body and he felt completely and utterly violated. A part of his enemy, the most despicable part, had been subjecting him to merciless torture for weeks and he'd been oblivious to it, just assuming that his body was having a hard time healing him. He'd –

"You wanna talk about it?" Jack's voice murmured into his shoulder. Mark had been so caught up in his own mind that he'd forgotten that the Irishman was there – an uncommon occurrence, to say the least; Mark was always aware of Jack's presence.

"It's –" Mark choked on his own breath, "–...Anti's flames were in me, t-they're the reason why I've been so ill these past couple of weeks. His fucking flames were in my body and I didn't know!"

"...Do ya still have his flames?"

"No...he...he took them out of me after they arrested Wilford Warfstache. He...he led us a-away from the public and h-he said I had something of his. He th-then..." Mark couldn't finish the sentence, he couldn't continue, he couldn't remember it. His tears stained Jack's shoulder, who tightened his grip around him even more.

"Merk...t-tell me about something else then, like...how you decided to become, well, Markiplier."

"I-I haven't told y-you yet?"

"No, but I'd like t' hear about it. At least, if ya don't mind." Jack's voice was soft, calming Mark down slightly. Why he decided to become a superhero was a safe subject, one he enjoyed talking about. It came as a surprise that he hadn't told his Irish friend; it was such a big thing in his life and they shared almost everything with each other, eventhough they'd only met a few weeks ago. He took in a deep breath and started speaking:

"When I was a-about nineteen, I went to college to become an engineer. I might have been one if I hadn't entered my superhero phase. I'd...ehm...I'd just f-found out about my powers and...well, I k-kind of needed someone t-to relate to. So, uh, one day, I saw this guy online somewhere. He was, like, this real life superhero with powers and I became obsessed with him. I wouldn't stop talking to Felix about him. He, uh...you wore his shirt once, when we met in that coffee shop. Jacksepticeye..."

He vaguely noted the arm around his neck stiffened, the body he was lying on tensed up, but his former idol quickly erased any thought of Jack's arm around him. Once again, a very uncommon occurrence.

"Y-yeah, my, uhm, my friend, Seámus he...he saw it in a shop, got it fer me."

"Hmmm...so, where's Seámus now?"

"I...I don't know, haven't talked t' him in years..." Jack released a shaky breath, "When...when I was nine, m-my class started bullyin' me. Called me gay. I didn't know t'en, but...Anyway, when I was sixteen Seámus came up t' me and apologised fer all of it, asked me if I wanted t' be friends. I said yes, we were best friends fer a while before...before I kissed him. He had a girlfriend at the time, so it was a shitty move, I know, but I didn't expect him to hate me, because after I did it...he...walked out, called me a faggot and never s-spoke to me again...It's funny, really, how much that comment affected me."