Chapter 2: Skype Calls are Great!

Jack's finger hesitated on the answer button.

Did he really want to talk to Mark right now? Was he even up to it? He had barely gotten through his most recent episode, having been interrupted near the end. So did he really have the strength to answer a video call from Mark, of all people? Mark Fischbach, the kind and caring and strong and handsome…

Snapping out of his thoughts, Jack steeled himself and clicked the little green icon. Immediately, his desktop started loading the video feed, and a few seconds later Mark's face appeared on his screen.

"Hey, Jackaboy!" Mark greeted brightly. His bright red hair was a floofy mess, and Jack smiled at the sight. He could do this. He could be normal, for Mark.

"Hey Markimoo," Jack replied, voice rough and cracking a bit from the earlier crying. Jack winced, and Mark raised a brow. "Why did you call?"

Jack mentally slapped himself. He didn't mean to sound so demanding or rude.

"What, I can't call my best friend? Rude," Mark said exasperatedly. Jack could tell he was joking by his tone, but still felt a little stab of guilt.

"I mean," Jack backtracked quickly. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to check in with you. See what's new," Mark shrugged, but his brown eyes seemed guarded, hiding a deeper meaning. "I guess you were in the shower?"

Jack froze. "Huh?"

Mark gestured to his hair. "Your hair's still wet."

Jack reached up and touched his toxic green locks, finding them still damp. "Oh! Oh yeah, sorry. That's why I was late to the call," he answered sheepishly. For some reason, he feared that Mark knew what he was doing in the shower. An impossible fear, but a fear nonetheless.

"Alright, I guess I'll forgive you this time," Mark said in a teasing tone, folding his toned arms across his chest –not that Jack was staring– "since you have such a good excuse for not answering my call."

Jack laughed, but it sounded forced. He hoped that Mark couldn't tell as easily as Jack could.

Their conversation went on, Mark mostly leading as he blabbered on about stuff going on in his life, telling Jack about how cute and crazy Chica was, or about the time when Matt fell in the pool last week. Jack laughed, this time sounding much more natural. He offered witty replies to Mark, glad to fall into the usual routine of their friendly banter. It was good to take a step back from everything, from YouTube, from his secret self-harm, and just relax and chat with a friend. Even if he was still bleeding through the towel wrapped around his waist and he really needed to bandage it up, Jack was genuinely happy to talk to Mark.

Eventually, as things usually did, their conversation drifted back to YouTube.

"You know, I've been getting some messages from fans telling me they're worried about you."

Jack's heart dropped. "Oh, yeah?" He asked, voice timid. He managed to force out, "What did they say?"

Mark was watching him carefully, his signature happy smile gone. Jack could tell he was serious. "They said that you've lost some of your chipper attitude in your most recent videos." He paused, waiting for Jack to reply.

His heart felt like it was about to leap from his chest. Jack grabbed his left thigh, feeling the sticky wetness through the towel. "Oh."

Mark nodded. "So I went and watched your videos from the past few days," he continued, eyeing Jack like a hawk.

"A-and?" Jack couldn't keep his voice from cracking. He licked his lips nervously.

Jack felt like those eyes were staring right through him, piercing his very being. "And I agree with them. You seem a lot more down… Is everything okay, Seán?"

Shit. Shit shit shitty shit. Mark was sitting there, waiting for a response to a serious question, and here Jack was sweating bullets. He could blame the sweat as water droplets from his earlier 'shower', but that wasn't the most pressing matter at hand.

Jack's mind raced as he tried to think of a reply. Mark used his real name, which meant he wasn't fucking around. What could Jack possibly say to something like that?

His grip on his thigh tightened, feeling that sickly warmth ooze through the soaked towel. His heartbeat was out of control, if Jack thought it was fast before then it was absolutely going nuts now. His mouth felt dry, his tongue like sandpaper. He wasn't sure that he could reply if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to, more like had to–

"Jack?"

Mark's deep timbre voice cut through his foggy mind, registering with Jack that he had remained silent for far too long.

He sucked in a sharp breath and almost choked. Quickly he snatched up his water bottle he kept on the side for when he was recording and gulped it down greedily. The lukewarm water was a blessing on his dry throat, and by taking time drinking he tried to form what to say to Mark.

Setting the now empty bottle down on the side, Jack cleared his throat.

"You okay?" Mark asked worriedly. His face was contorted in an uneasy frown.

"Fine," Jack coughed, practically gasping for air. "Just fine. Uhh, where were we?"

Mark deadpanned. "Are you alright, Seán?"

Hearing Mark say his name in that low tone of his sent a shiver down Jack's spine. He ignored it in favour of finally replying. "I, uh– yeah. I'm alright. Just havn't been sleepin' well lately, 's all." Jack tried to keep his tone level, and failed, his accent coming out thick with nerves. What he said wasn't exactly a lie, since Jack actually had been having trouble sleeping recently, he just wasn't telling Mark everything. Who knows what Mark would do if he knew… "Sorry to worry you all."

Mark stayed quiet for a moment, obviously processing the new information. Jack waited anxiously, bouncing his uninjured leg incessantly. Finally, Mark let out a sigh. "I'm glad that's all then," he said slowly, words twisting Jack's heart.

Jack gave a wry smile. "You don't havta worry about me, I can take care o' myself."

After a moment of hesitation, Mark returned the smile. "I know. I just can't help but worry about you, though."

Jack's heartbeat picked up again. What did Mark mean by that? He opened his mouth to respond, but the feeling of a warm wetness dripping down his calf made him freeze. He needed to go and bandage himself up, and now. "I, I-I need to go. I have some stuff to take care of," he said hurriedly, trying to speed things along.

Mark's brows furrowed. "I know I'm going to sound like a broken record, but is everything okay?"

With a jagged nod, Jack dismissed his friend's worries as he gave a vague reply. "Jus' work that needs doing. I'll talk to ya later."

"Okay… Just promise to call if you need anything," Mark relented, leaning back in his chair in a defeated manner. "And I mean anything."

"Thanks, Mark, bye." Jack quickly clicked the end call button before anything could be said further. He let out a heavy sigh, both in relief and dread. Relief from managing that Skype call with Mark, and dread for what he was going to have to do next.