Dan knew as soon as he got home that something was up.
Jack was still at work, as was Phil, but Mark had the day off; so why didn't he hear his friend in the kitchen, or chatting on the phone with that girl he met, Amy? It was quiet, so much so that Dan almost thought no one was home.
And then he felt the faint tell-tale trail of feelings.
It was excitement and worry with uncertainty tinging with determination.
And, fainter, more like a taste than anything he could discern, was something cottony like gauze with a sharp bite like hesitance. Wariness? It was familiar, though he couldn't quite place what. . .
Mark's door cracked open, down the hall, and he could hear the room's occupant muttering lowly to something - it turned into a yelp as the door was forcefully shoved open, and something hurtled into the living room, claws skidding on the floor.
It was a golden retriever of some sort, and it stopped short at the sight of Dan.
Oh, he thought with faint amused befuddlement. Animal emotions.
The dog gave a soft whuff, and Mark nearly tripped over it as he raced into the room and caught sight of Dan.
"I can explain."
Dan nearly laughed at the look on Mark's face: wide eyed, half crouched down to the dog and arms out. He was more surprised than bemused, so all he said was, ". .okay?" He looked down as the dog licked his fingers, hesitantly wagging its tail.
Mark dropped down to the dog, giving her vigorous scratches and distracting her from Dan; she gave a few hefty thumps of her tail, while Mark spoke without looking up.
"So I was on a walk and found her just wandering. No tag, no people around. She was pretty dirty too, so I brought her home for a bath. Was just about to heat up some ground beef for her when you got back."
Sure enough, when Dan crouched down to pet her, her fur was soft and damp. Still caught off guard, he just hummed.
It was quiet for a bit, Mark giving off a constant nervous energy, and Dan merely befuddled.
"So what are we doing with . . .her," he glanced at Mark, who nodded, "next? We can't have pets here."
Mark said nothing, just petting the dog.
"Mark."
He started muttering and cooing at the Golden, squishing her face. The dog happily panting.
"Mark."
There was a sharp crack of something indiscernible, and his friend looked up with guilty eyes. It was weird, to see Mark, who was basically the head of the house, seem so - so, cowed and uncertain.
"So. . .I kinda have a plan on how we could maybe keep her? But I'd need your help."
Dan bit his tongue, wincing. There was only one plan that Dan could think of that would require his help. He didn't want to be the reasonable one in this situation. But. . .
He looked down at the dog, who, feeling safe, was laying on side and eagerly awaiting pats.
But also-
Dan sighed, shoulders drooping. "Look, I want to help; hell knows we'd all benefit from a dog. But my abilities don't work that way; I can't control other people's emotions. My influence has to do with my bond with others. And it's symbiotic - I cant just," he gestures vaguely.
"Oh, wait, no. I didn't mean that," Mark's face split into a grin, "I'm not stupid. I was thinking more along the lines of. . .uh. . ."
The sharp, tinfoil-like crackle of guilt hit him, and Dan felt himself tense in response.
Mark seemed to melt; dejected and worried and a whole slew of complex feelings Dan couldn't keep up with, much less detangle.
"Look," Mark finally sighed, "it's not the best idea, but it'd avoid lying and hiding Chi- her, I just hate to ask this of you-"
Dan's brow scrunched. "Mark, you can just tell me-"
"I was thinking we could get her certified as an emotional support animal." He looked fully at Dan then. "But in order to do that we'd need to certify her for someone. And since you have a depression diagnosis. . ."
"Oh," Dan breathed out softly. He wasn't . . .hurt, exactly. It was something uncertain and maybe a little nervous, a sharp tang kinda like greek yogurt, because he knew that Mark wasn't trying to just use him as a means to an end, or expose him or embarrass him. It's just. . . Dan wasn't all that open about it with anyone except maybe Phil, so to hear anyone bluntly bring it up. . . and the context-
Mark huffed something too dull to be a laugh. "Forget it, I shouldn't have even brought it up. I'm sorry, Dan, that wasn't- I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine," Dan found himself feeling emboldened. It wasn't exactly a bad idea, and, seeing how smitten Mark was with her. . . he could do this. For his friend. "I think - I think it's a good idea. It'd be good for all of us, and you're right; it's the best way to go about it legally."
Mark's eyes practically turn into stars; Dan's almost blown back by the pure happiness radiating from him. Then, he giggles.
Dan narrows his eyes; here they're having a good moment, and Mark's suddenly laughing. "What."
"It's just- 'best way to go about it legally?' " Mark shakes his head and smiling fondly, standing up, "Only you'd say it like that." The dog barks and jumps up at him. "Ain't that right, Chica?"
"Oh my god, you already named her?"
Mark ignores him, babying the dog, and Dan can't help rolling his eyes, a small grin stretching across his face. "Guess we have a dog now."
A/N: *later*
P: OH MY GOD WE HAVE A DOG-
J: WHEN THE EF FING HELL-
M:WAIT CHICA NO COME BACK-
D: too late, Mark
J while P is rubbing Chica's tummy, J next to him: OURS NOW EFFERS