La Muerte Subita

Outlast

Mark helps Jack up past the windowsill gently; trying not to notice how much smaller his hand is in his grip.
How much smaller the Irishman is in general...

He watches Jack pace the room a bit, watching for any sign of change from the game this level was based on.
Outlast was a true horror game; full of jump scares and brutality... Mark really hopes this level is short considering the massive head trauma Jack had already suffered from. He pulls himself up into the room as quietly as he can.

"Jack." he calls softly, trodding over to the door on the opposite side of the room and motioning him over.
He moves behind Mark as he pushes open the door quietly.
There are lights on in the hallway outside, but there's no sign of movement. The way forward is blocked by random objects, a filing cabinet and a few boxes of folders and papers, but there's space to move through the center. He starts to reach for Jack, to pull him back and away. To protect him by going through the small space first; but Jack's already fitted himself into and through.
Resigned, Mark shoves himself through as well, making sure not to let the other man out of his sight again.

They start off for the first open door, rushing inside with caution. Mark ruffles through some papers on a desk as Jack stands guard at the door.
It's mostly character expositions and subtle clues to the uninformed player that litter the desk; but inside the top drawer is a handheld camera and a battery. Mark fills the camera and brings it up to his face. At first; the camera focus on the computer screen, but then Mark swings it around to film Jack in the corner: arms wrapped around himself, eyes tired and downcast.
No one should see Jacksepticeye this way.
Mark lowers the camera, setting it down on the desk before joining the other man at the door.
"Let's go." He murmurs next to Jack's ear; guiding him out the door with his hand firmly on the small of his back. He feels the little shudder, but he doesn't say a word.

* * *

When the door closes across from the break room, neither pays it any mind. Mark just pushes Jack through the doorway and closes the door behind himself as they inspect the dripping vent shaft and what really, really does look like a tied piece of human intestine.

The smell in the room is something unexpected as Mark brings his hand up to cover his nose. It smells of dead things; like rats in the walls or mice trapped in glue under the sink. He holds back a gag and watches as Jack does the same.
As soon as they recover enough to talk, Jack points up to the vent and coughs;
"Help me up?"
Mark nods his head.

He chokes as he removes his hand to climb up the broken bits of vending machine and launching himself up to grab the ledge.
With minimal struggle, he pulls himself inside, his head poking back out to grin at Jack.
He grumbles out a remark, but clambers up to take Mark's outstretched hand and wiggle in next to him.
The vent is really too small for them together, so they start inching their way through it and out the end.

Mark drops to the floor with a loud thump, and reaches up to help Jack down. He shakes his head, but Mark still reaches out to steady him when he launches himself down to the ground. The flat look is enough to make Mark release the hold he has on his waist.
"I'm not fragile, Mark. I won't break" he mutters under his breath; but his cheeks are painted pink and so are the tips of his ears.
Mark won't admit it's cute.

* * *

If the little bit of flesh and blood before stank then the inside of the library reeked. The smell of rotting meat and mold and feces assaulted Mark's nose as soon as the door opened and the screaming body fell.
He doesn't know how they fabricated it, a smell this realistic and disgusting.

Behind him, Jack retches, milky white liquid dropping to the floor as he starts to wobble.
For the second time; Mark reaches out to hold him steady, hands gripping him by the waist. Jack doesn't complain this time, holding one hand over his mouth as the other wraps around Mark's shoulders tightly.
Mark can feel him trembling.