Remark: Last chapter! I hope you liked the series!

The next morning, as John sat tiredly at his kitchen table, he received a call. It was from David Knopfler. And David was pretty angry. He shouted at John and told him to come to the hospital immediately before hanging up the phone. John looked at his phone in confusion before setting off. When he got there, he found David in the hospital corridor. The rhythm guitarist was sitting on a chair, holding a paper cup in his shaking hands.

"Good morning." John said worriedly. "What happened?"

"What happened?" David asked, horrified, looking at John desperately. "I told you to make my brother your lover, John." He growled angrily. "Not that you should push him to commit suicide again." The bassist stared at him with wide eyes.

"What the hell do you mean?"

"What the hell did you say to Mark yesterday before you left? He passed out from high blood pressure and is now close to a coma." David rubbed his face wearily. "The doctors say they don't know what to do anymore. He has a fever. What the hell did you tell him, John?"

"Nothing, I...he gave me the yogurt from his meal." John said. "And then we talked about how he probably needs to see a psychologist and then..." John's eyes widened.

"What did you say to him?" David asked impatiently.

"I have to see him!" John exclaimed in horror and wanted to go to the hospital room. David jumped up and held him back.

"You can't go in there. This is the intensive care unit, buddy." John stared at him with wide eyes.

"But I...I have to tell him I love him."

"You didn't do that yesterday?" David asked, confused. John looked at the floor, ashamed.

*

Mark was in a fog of consciousness. He could no longer distinguish between reality and dream. He was very warm and sweating. And he couldn't help but think that this beautiful life with John...it had only been a dream. They would never be a couple. John would never kiss him, he...Mark would never wear his ring. Mark's foggy mind noticed that someone was suddenly holding his hand and talking to him. The guitarist turned his head in a daze, trying to make out the person next to him, but his vision was too blurry. All he could see were spots of colour. Mark whimpered weakly. There was a large brown spot and a large beige spot. And an even larger red spot. The guitarist blinked dazedly before the spots turned into objects. The brown turned into curly hair. The red turned into a red shirt, and the beige turned into a human face. When Mark blinked again, he could make out the face.

"John?" He croaked weakly. His lips were quite dry, as was his neck. The person in front of him seemed to nod, but Mark couldn't really see it. It took a few more moments before the singer understood that the person was talking to him.

"-ark, can you hear me?" Mark blinked a few more times before he was able to recognize John.

"John." Mark whispered.

"I'm here. Don't worry." The bassist hummed and rubbed Mark's hand.

"John, you're here." The bassist's lips curled into a gentle smile. "But you... you told me you were tired of me." Mark murmured weakly.

"Oh Mark. I didn't mean that. I was just very frustrated and worried and I..."

"You're very pretty, John." Mark whispered. John's eyes widened.

"Mark..."

"I dreamed that you were my husband." Mark breathed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. He was pretty sure he was in a dream again, so he decided to tell the truth: "I love you." John's eyes widened.

"Mark, I..."

"I know. You don't love me back." Mark whispered before passing out again.

*

John was torn. What the hell should he do now? Mark obviously loved him back. Or had he just said that because he was feverish? In reality, he loved Flora... John was angry and had no idea what to do and whenever it came to that, he reached for the bottle. It had already been three weeks since he had last seen Mark and he had hardly slept during that time. He had spent most of that time drinking.

It was evening, John was sitting on his sofa nursing his fourth bottle of Jack Daniels when the doorbell rang. The bassist groaned in annoyance and ran a hand through his greasy hair. Damn, when had he last showered? He really couldn't remember. John took a big swig from his bottle when the doorbell rang again. Annoyed, the bassist managed to get to his feet and staggered to the front door. He opened it and called:

"What's going on?" His eyes widened as he saw his Visitor. Mark Knopfler. The guitarist wore blue jeans and black Converse shoes. Also a sweater vest and a white shirt. The guitarist smiled slightly and put a hand on his neck, embarrassed.

"Hello John."

"What the hell are you doing here?" John growled angrily. Jack Daniels had always made him aggressive and angry.

"I came to check on you, mate. You don't look good." John glared at him angrily and took another sip from his bottle.

"What would you know?" He growled. "Get the hell out of here, you bastard, I don't want to see you here." Mark sighed deeply and pushed John into the apartment. "Didn't you hear me!? You should get out of here, you asshole!" Mark's heart clenched tightly when he heard these words, but he knew that John was simply drunk. He sat John on the sofa and then closed the apartment door.

"Give me that bottle, John, please." Mark demanded, reaching out for it.

"I won't give you anything!" John shouted angrily, pulling the bottle to his chest. Mark sighed deeply.

"John, give me that bottle. I won't throw it away, I'll keep it for you, okay? Promised." John shook his head. "Come on. Please. You're not feeling well. You've had enough alcohol in the last few days. I'll get you a glass of water." With that, Mark set off. Shortly afterwards, he held the glass out to the bassist. John stared at him angrily. "Drink the water, please." The bassist didn't react. "John, please drink the water." Mark sighed, rubbing his face wearily. John didn't react again, staring angrily at Mark. "You're going to drink this bloody water now, John Edward!" Mark shouted. "Or I'll throw it down your throat!" John snatched the water from his hand and drank it angrily before slamming the glass on the table. There was silence between the two for a while. Mark eyed the taller man worriedly. "Are you sick? Or are you feeling alright?" John growled angrily as he suddenly felt bile shoot up his throat. The bassist jumped to his feet and ran into the bathroom as fast as he could. Mark sighed deeply and followed him. He knelt on the floor next to John, held his hair back and gently rubbed his back. "Let it out, mate."

"You bloody bastard." John gasped between gagging. Mark giggled a little. "What was in the water?"

"Salt." Mark grinned. "I had to make you throw up somehow. All that alcohol has to get out of your system." John whimpered brokenly as he threw up again. When he had vomited everything that was in his stomach, Mark helped him to his feet and took him to his bedroom. Mark covered him up and then wanted to leave the bedroom, but John held him by the hand.

"Stay here." He whispered weakly. The guitarist sighed deeply.

"I'll sleep in the living room, okay? If you need me, I'll be near you." John shook his head weakly and tapped the empty side of the double bed with his hand.

"Stay here." He murmured sleepily. "I want you to sleep here." Mark sighed deeply and bit his lower lip before turning off the light in the hallway. He took off his jeans and sweater and crawled into bed next to John, wearing only his underwear and shirt. Mark covered himself up and turned off the light.

"Good night." He sighed.

"Good night." John smiled contentedly.

*

When the bassist woke up the next morning, he had a massive headache. He groaned in agony and stretched wearily across the bed. It was the first morning in ages that he had been sober. John turned his head and was shocked to see that Mark was lying next to him. The guitarist was lying on his back, his left leg sticking out from under the covers. John's eyes were fixed in shock on the thick, long pink scar on Mark's thigh. When he reached out to touch it, however, the younger man woke up. Mark yawned loudly and stretched across the bed like a cat before turning his head and looking at John.

"Morning." He croaked.

"Good morning." John said, smiling slightly. "Mark, I... whatever I said to you last night, I'm sorry." Mark giggled a little.

"You don't have to apologize, we both know what you get like when you're drunk." They both giggled a little.

"Did I call you a bastard?" John asked embarrassed. Mark grinned.

"A few times, yep." John sighed deeply and ran his hand through his matted hair.

"Mark, I...how are you? Is that the scar?" He asked and pointed to Mark's leg. Mark sighed deeply.

"The scar from my suicide attempt, you mean, huh? Yes, that's it. The fever broke after a few days and the wound was able to heal because the infection went down." John sighed.

"Mark, I...I'm sorry. The last time we spoke to each other, I yelled at you and we argued and..."

"That's not true." Mark sighed. "The last time we spoke, I told you I loved you." John's eyes widened. He had thought Mark had been feverish. "And I...I'm sorry. I don't want our friendship to end. I'll make the feeling go away, okay? I promise you. We'll be friends like we used to be and..."

"Mark." John sighed deeply.

"I mean it, John. Please don't be mad at me or anything, or..."

"Mark, stop babbling." John scolded. He carefully reached out his hand. Mark flinched when he felt John's fingertips on his thigh. John's eyes were fixed on Mark's leg, while his index finger stroked the long scar. "I'm sorry. For everything. For not being there when you were suffering because of Flora. That I wasn't there when you were lonely. That I didn't come in time to stop you from hurting yourself. That I wasn't there when you were so sick in the hospital and that I didn't have the courage to stay with you after I yelled at you. My feelings were just so messed up and after you told me you loved me...damn it, Mark." John closed his eyes tightly and stopped stroking Mark's leg. "Mark you asshole, I love you too." Mark's eyes widened. "I've loved you since that night on the beach in Nassau and since then I can't forget that fleeting kiss we had. I knew you were with Flora and that you didn't want to talk about that kiss. I just didn't have the courage to tell you I loved you. But when you said it. Several times. I just didn't know what to do." Mark turned onto his side and slowly reached out his hand. He placed it on John's cheek and smiled sheepishly before whispering:

"There was only one thing you should've done."

"Oh and that would've been?" The bassist teased. Mark pursed his lips and closed his eyes with a smile before pressing his lips firmly to John's. The bassist moaned weakly and pulled Mark onto his body, his hands on Mark's ass and the guitarist sitting on his hips. Mark moaned weakly against John's lips and pushed his hips into John's palms. The guitarist pulled back from the kiss with a grin and looked down at John. The bassist reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Mark's ear. They both smiled at each other.

"I love you, John. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad about it. I'm sorry if you thought I was just taking advantage of you when Flora wasn't around, I..."

"Stop blabbing." John whispered, pressing their lips tightly together. His hands tightened on Mark's ass, pulling the guitarist tightly against him again. Mark moaned loudly and grinned into the kiss before they separated again.

"Don't get too aggressive, Illsley." John grinned and patted Mark's ass through the fabric of his black underpants.

"You do have a nice ass, Knopfler." Mark grinned as he lowered his head and John began to kiss his neck. "I was so scared I was going to lose you." John whimpered brokenly. "You were so weak and you were constantly unconscious. I was so scared of losing you, even though we weren't a couple." The smaller man moaned weakly as John began to suck love bites into the pale skin.

"You'll never lose me. And John?"

"Mh?" The bassist hummed against Mark's neck with a grin and ran his hands along Mark's bare thighs.

"I love you like the stars above. Even if it took a damn long time for us idiots to notice."

"I knew it from the beginning, but you didn't want to talk about what happened on the beach." John teased. "And you only had eyes for Flora." Mark sighed deeply. John grabbed his cheek and stroked it gently. "But that's over. I know it." Mark smiled a little and kissed John gently. "I love you like the stars above." John repeated with a grin and kissed him again while his large hand stroked Mark's thigh.

THE END;)