A Finger's Width (Septiplier)

Chapter 14

Mark and Jack both slept late into the afternoon. Mark woke up first, deciding to scroll through his phone instead of getting out of bed and wait for Jack to wake up. When Jack woke up half an hour later he turned around to find the other still curled up in bed with him and smiled out of content. Mark repositioned himself to face him, enjoying the pleasant look on his face. It only took a minute for the last nights events to sink in and the liveliness to drain from his face. Mark threw his arm around his shoulder and pulled him in close to his chest, tangling their feet in the process.

"It's gonna be alright," he said. He rubbed Jack's arm softly and felt him nuzzle his head into his shirt. "Shh it's okay."

"But it's not, is it? He's gone." Jack squeezed his eyes shut and gripped tighter onto Mark's torso.

"You don't know that," Mark said softly above his ear, kissing the side of his head.

"Yes, I do. Who's going to save him, Mark?" Mark hesitated, knowing he was probably right.

"I'm sorry." He laid his head on top of Jack's and moved his body even closer, trying to comfort him in any way he could. They laid like that for a while before Mark unfurled himself and took up Jack's hand, leading him out of the room and downstairs. "Let's have breakfast."

Jack shook his head, "Not hungry."

"Okay." Mark let him be from then on. He realized that he probably wanted some time alone to sort himself out. It was a weird thing, because obviously Anti was a menace and irritating, but he was part of Jack. They were two sides of the same coin and being around him every day for the last seven years of his life had made him used to his presence. Now that it was gone, he missed it. It was impossible not to and the idea of him always being out there, but never attainable was so unsettling. He would never know what became of him, where he was, and there would always be that one voice in his head nagging that he was still right there. It was devastating.

Jack sat around the back of their house, in the garden of dead plants they had never bothered to water. His knees were pulled up to his chest and a few tears trickled down his face. He never expected to be this attached to the bastard, but in the end he knew he was. He rested his chin on his knees and played with the stem of a dead flower by his side. He picked it up and held it in front of his face. It would've been so beautiful when it was alive, but not so much anymore. Now it was just grey and brown and had an odd smell to it. He let his arm fall again and the dead plant left his fingers.

He wasn't sure how long he spent in that position, but long enough that Mark came looking for him. Mark sat down next to him in silence, keeping an inch of space between them.

"I didn't know you even had a garden," Mark said.

"We don't take care of it." Mark nodded shortly and leaned back against the wall of the house.

"That's okay," he paused. "It's okay to let things go." Jack closed his eyes briefly and tilted his head down.

"But I don't want to."

"You don't have to yet. It's also okay to be sad right now, you deserve that, but make sure you take care of yourself too." Jack slowly turned his head to look at him, blinking away tears.

"Thank you," he said softly. Mark nodded and kissed his lips softly, then stood up and walked away. Jack went for a walk after that, wanting to be among the trees. It made him feel better knowing how much Anti loved the outdoors, it was like a piece of him did still exist. He looked up into the leaf-covered tree branches and felt the cool breeze against his face. It dried his tears and encouraged him to keep going. He fell into a sort of trance, walking slowly beneath the trees and admiring everything the forest had to offer. It felt nice.