When John was finally let into the room three hours later with a duffel bag filled with things for Mark in the hospital, the guitarist was asleep. He lay silently in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown. In the crook of his arm were IVs and blood transfusions. His heartbeat was closely monitored, as was his breathing, which made John realize that the situation was indeed serious. John sat down sadly in the chair next to Mark's bed and carefully took the guitarist's wired hand. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he held his hand. John continued to study Mark's still figure. A complete contrast to what he had once been a month ago. John tightened his fingers around Mark's hand and took a shaky breath when a memory suddenly flashed into his mind.

*

About two months earlier:

The band was in Nassau, Bahamas, recording their second studio album. They had worked hard all day and John and Mark had decided to go to the beach at sunset. Pick was hungry and stayed in the kitchen to cook something, while David decided to read a book on the terrace of the beach house. The bassist and the guitarist had made their way to the beach. The two had been very good friends since they met and music had only brought them closer together. They had left their towels under a palm tree and had walked towards the sea. John was already up to his chest in the water, while Mark was only standing with his feet in it.

"Come on! The water is wonderful!" John called excitedly and lay on his back before floating over the small waves in the water. Mark giggled and waded through the water until he reached John. The guitarist stood on his tiptoes in the water. His eyes were fixed on the sunset. John also stood up again. However, his eyes were not fixed on the sunset. "Has anyone ever told you that you are beautiful, Mark?" John asked out of nowhere. Mark turned his head in shock and looked at the bassist before he started laughing.

"You're an idiot, John." The guitarist started swimming out to sea.

"Wait!" John shouted and swam after him. "I meant it!" Mark turned around and looked at him in surprise, still making swimming movements to stay on the surface of the water. The guitarist decided to ignore the comment.

"Look at that sunset, John." He said dreamily. The sun was only half visible as the other half had already disappeared on the horizon. It turned the whole sky orange and was reflected on the sea. John could see the sun reflected in Mark's eyes. Mark was his friend. But damn John just couldn't help but notice how beautiful the guitarist was. His face, his eyes, his smile, his body, the musical gift he had, his intelligence. John's heart was beating fast in his chest. Mark was so beautiful and intelligent and... Suddenly John was submerged under water. He resurfaced and gasped for air before pushing his hair back to see something. Mark swam away from him, laughing.

"Just wait!" John shouted, laughing, and swam after him. Soon they were both on the beach. Mark ran away from the bassist, screaming, but it was pointless, as John clearly had longer legs. John threw himself at the guitarist, laughing, and threw him to the ground. Both musicians laughed hysterically like little children and rolled across the beach, while sand stuck to their wet bodies. At some point they lay in the warm sand and giggled. John brushed a few curls out of his face and smiled down at Mark. His heart was beating fast again. Damn, what did that mean? Mark was his buddy. Besides, Mark had a girlfriend. Why...why did he always have this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach when they were alone lately? When Mark smiled, when he looked at him, when their hands touched...

"Uh...John?" Mark asked suddenly, waking him from his daydream. John looked at him confused before realizing with a start that he was lying between Mark's legs, leaning on his upper body.

"Oh." He said stupidly. Mark started to laugh and closed his eyes as he laid his head back. John smiled a little and felt Mark's legs shaking around his hips as he laughed. The bassist's cheeks turned pink as he quickly stood up.

*

Present:

John's eyes widened in shock as he woke up from his memories and looked down at Mark in that hospital bed. John's heart had skipped a beat and he felt completely dizzy. Shocked, he realized that he had stroked the back of Mark's hand with his thumb without noticing it. He let go of the guitarist's hand immediately, as if he had been burned. John stood up from his chair and stormed out of the hospital room. His heart was beating fast in his chest as he sat down on a chair in the hospital corridor and took a shuddering breath. When he had calmed down a little, he got himself a coffee from the coffee machine and sat down again. His thoughts kept wandering back to the scene on the beach. He and Mark had laughed about it and never talked about it again, but...John felt deep inside that...that it had felt right. It had felt right to have Mark near him and to see him laugh and be happy. It had felt just as right as holding him in his arms when he was sad. John's eyes widened as the realization hit him: That strange feeling in his stomach? It was love.

*

When John returned to the hospital room an hour later, he found Flora there with a man he had never seen before. The man was about Mark's height, wearing black suit pants and a white shirt. He had black hair and dark eyes and was powerfully built. Flora was sitting on the chair John had been sitting on and held Mark's hand while she cried. She was wearing a white blouse and blue jeans.

"Hey. What's wrong with him?" The stranger asked, pointing at Mark. John didn't realize at first that the question was directed at him. "The staff here is horrible. I hope you get paid less for not knowing anything." He said angrily. John stared at him with his mouth open.

"He's not hospital staff. That's John." Flora said, smiling gently at John. The bassist walked silently to the bed.

"Oh. I'm sorry." The man said.

"Hello John." Flora said quietly, sniffling before wiping tears from her cheeks, still holding Mark's hand tightly.

"Hello Flora." He replied, but his gaze was still fixed on Mark's still, injured figure.

"John, what happened?" Flora whimpered quietly. "I got a call from the hospital because I'm still on his emergency records." John took a deep breath and reached out. He pulled the blanket from Mark's body before pulling the hospital gown up a little. In doing so, he exposed a thick bandage around Mark's left thigh. Flora gasped sharply. The strange man grimaced. John ignored him.

"He tried to kill himself." John sighed. Flora cried brokenly. "He wanted to cut his aorta, but... he told me he wasn't strong enough." John closed his eyes and swallowed. "He only cut the artery. Thank God he didn't cut it all the way through, otherwise he would be dead by now." Flora sobbed brokenly into her hands. "When he realized he wasn't going to bleed out, at least not quickly, he..." John blew air out of his nose and tried to calm his nerves. Flora grabbed John's hand and squeezed it tightly. She had known the bassist for about as long as Mark had known him. Mark and Flora had become a couple shortly after the band formed, so she knew John very well. "He took painkillers." John said. Flora stared at him with wide eyes. "He told me it was eight pills, but the doctors think it must have been a lot more for him to be in this condition." Flora sobbed brokenly.

"Did you find him?" She asked. John nodded silently.

"Flora, I thought he was going to die in my arms." John said. His voice broke and he tried to hold back his tears.

*

After a few hours had passed, Mark slowly began to wake up. It was already late in the evening, Pick and David had also come and were now sitting on a sofa in the corner of the room. Pick, David and John were playing poker, while Flora was still sitting on the chair next to Mark. John kept looking worriedly at the bed so as not to miss when Mark would wake up. Now that he knew how he felt... strangely enough, he was even more worried about Mark. And he didn't know exactly why. But this feeling scared him. He had never felt like this in his entire life. And he didn't really know how to tell Mark about his feelings. But none of that was important now. First and foremost, Mark's health was important. Mark moved weakly in his bed, attracting everyone's attention. It took a few more seconds before he opened his eyes and blinked against the bright light.

"He's awake, guys!" Flora called out excitedly. The musicians threw the cards on the sofa and quickly ran towards the bed. Mark mumbled something incomprehensible before coughing weakly. Pick immediately held a glass of water to his lips. Mark swallowed a little of it before looking around dazedly.

"Pick?" He croaked. The drummer nodded excitedly.

"Yep. It's me." He grinned. "David, John and Flora are here too." Mark slowly raised his wired hand and looked at it in surprise. He moved very slowly and seemed to take a long time before he understood things. He reached out his other hand to remove the wires from the back of his hand, but suddenly a large hand grasped his fingers. Mark turned his head in surprise. His eyes fixed on a tall man with curly hair and it took a while before his foggy mind could recognize John. The bassist smiled at him encouragingly.

"You can't pull that out, mate." He said quietly. Mark nodded dazedly and put his arms back on the bed. John wanted to let go of Mark's hand, but the guitarist didn't allow it.

"Mark. Oh my God, how are you?" Flora babbled. Mark turned his head in confusion and looked at her.

"Flora?" He murmured.

"Yes. It's me, darling." She hummed, rubbing his forearm gently. Mark blinked a little. "Do you remember what happened?" The guitarist remained silent for a while before a tear rolled from the corner of his eye.

"I guess that's a yes." David whispered.

"I wanted to kill myself." Mark said quietly.

"Why? Why did you want to do that, Mark?" Flora cried. "We all love you so much. You're loved by so many people."

"But not by you." The guitarist murmured. Flora stared at him with wide eyes.

"That's not true, Mark. I love you." She bit her lower lip. "I love you like a brother, Mark. I told you that you can always come to me if you need to talk to someone. I'm always here for you." She cried weakly. "Don't you remember?" Mark turned his head and let out a sigh. John watched the whole thing worriedly.

"Who is that?" Mark croaked, pointing with a shaking hand at the stranger who was still standing in the room.

"That's Max." Flora said and smiled. "My boyfriend. Do you remember him? I told you about him." Mark swallowed and John felt the guitarist squeeze his hand. John looked at him worriedly. Unease spread across Mark's face.

"John?"

"What's wrong?" Asked the bassist. Mark turned his head and pointed at Max like a little child before saying:

"I want him to go."

"Mark!" Flora cried in shock. Mark whimpered weakly and took a shaky breath before continuing, to everyone's shock:

"And I want you to go too, Flora."

"What are you talking about, Mark? I was so worried about you." She sobbed brokenly. Mark took a deep breath.

"I'm in this state because of you." Tears began to roll from Mark's eyes. "I wanted to kill myself because of you. Because I love you. And I can't bear the sight of you. Please. Go now." Flora looked at him worriedly. Mark closed his eyes briefly. "I promise you, one day we can be friends, just like you want us to be. But...I'm not ready for that yet." Flora nodded silently and stood up before taking her bag and jacket. She put a hand on Mark's lower leg.

"Get well. I'm here for you if you need me." With that, she left the room and pulled Max behind her. There was silence between the friends for a while.

"He's an asshole anyway." David said, making everyone giggle. David and Pick sat back down on the sofa and continued playing their game while John sat down on the chair. He still held Mark's hand and smiled gently at him.

"How are you feeling?" He asked worriedly.

"Tired." Mark murmured and closed his eyes. "Sore."

"Rest." John smiled and wanted to get up to go to David and Pick, but Mark's fingers tightened around John's hand again. The bassist looked at him in surprise.

"Please. Stay." John smiled gently and stroked the back of Mark's hand gently with his thumb.

"Of course."