After Mark's call with his mother, he strolled back into the living room to tell Jack excitedly. "Well... Mom can't wait for us to visit. So much so... that she's booking a flight for us on the earliest one." Jack sat up on the couch, asking a bit disappointed. "How early exactly?" Mark licked his lips, shuffling his feet as he put his hands on his hips. Jack sat up more, causing Mark to state out softly. "Tomorrow morning... Early morning. We're talking like four am." Jack let out a groan, snatching a pillow to push against his face as he slumped back across the couch. Mark chuckled to himself, telling him lightly. "She thinks it's the best time to fly. Barry will probably sleep through most of it and Sally... Well, she's usually pretty quiet." Jack dropped the pillow over his hips, dryly replying. "How long is the flight?" Mark retorted confidently. "Three hours. No stops. We'd be at my mother's by eight am." Jack turned his eyes to the ceiling, mumbling out. "I hate getting up that early... People are tired and rude... Can't we take a later flight?"

Mark moved to the arm of the couch, taking a seat on it as he told him casually. "We could... but my mom has volunteered to take the kids the second we get off the plane. It would give us time to... do something together?" Jack lowered his eyes from the ceiling to Mark. Mark gave him a small smile, then nervously added. "Honestly, I'm a little concerned that my mother wants to see the kids so bad... She used to want to see me that badly." Jack chuckled, nudging Mark's thigh with his foot. When Mark looked at him, he told him sweetly. "She's always wanted grandkids. This is her time to spoil them before they can talk and ask for things." Mark let out a throaty chuckle, grabbing his ankle. Jack tensed, watching Mark pull his foot over his lap. Mark's eyes were on the babies, while his hands began to rub Jack's foot. Jack's lips parted, almost letting out a moan as Mark's warm hands massaged the abused parts of his feet. Mark had never massaged his feet before, but he liked it. Biting his lower lip, he collected himself to ask Mark gently. "What's on your mind, baby?"

Mark jerked his head up a bit like he had spaced out on him. Stopping the massage, Mark turned to look at him, asking blankly. "Huh? Did you say something?" Jack sat up, reaching out to brush Mark's bangs away from his eyes. Mark's eyes looked so deep and glassy. Shaking his head, Jack whispered to him in a tender voice. "Mark...? What's going on in that head of yours?" Mark blinked, the distance in his eyes vanishing as he told him through a light chuckle. "I just have a lot to plan and pack. Watch them for me?" Jack's heart deflated a bit, but he nodded. Mark kissed his cheek, then got up to make his way to the bedroom. Jack leaned against the arm of the chair, shaking his head as he watched him go. He hated that Mark kept things to himself. Even if what he was thinking was stupid... he still wanted to know. Sighing, he got up to play with Sally. Tickling her feet and blowing raspberries across her stomach, he savored the way she giggled and squealed.

In the bedroom, Mark stood staring at a picture of his dad on the nightstand. His heart was twisted up. He knew he needed to make up his mind and yet he couldn't. There was so much to think about and consider. He hoped his mom would help him decide, but he knew what she'd tell him. He just couldn't figure out if it was worth the risk. Pulling out his suitcase from the closest, he began to pack it with a weeks' worth of clothes. He packed a jacket and then used the extra room to stuff in some of the babies' clothes and things. Once all the essential stuff was packed, Mark paused and looked at his dad's picture again. His dad had died before he had found his sexuality. Lately, it tormented him to think about what his dad would have thought about it. Would he be proud of him? Was he turning in his grave over his bad choices? Would he warn him about making another? Mark closed his eyes, trying to hold back tears as he forced himself to keep himself together. Was he even half the father his father was?

Leaning over the suitcase, Mark took a few deep breaths. The weight of being a father had never felt so heavy and it was crushing him. He had not been ready to be a father. He hadn't realized how much he'd have to give up for them. All the things he loved and desired all had to be pushed aside for them. They depended on him for everything. It was frightening how easy it was for him to ruin their future. Then to top it off... his issues with Jack were growing. His emotions were overwhelmed by it all. He'd been so worn out by it all that he could barely feel at all. What he did feel was painful. Like an anchor sinking into a bottomless sea. It never seemed to end. Clawing at the sheets of the bed, he forced himself to swallow it all down. He had to be the strong one. Jack was emotional enough and the babies needed him. He had to be the one that kept his family from sinking down with him. Glancing at the photo again, Mark inhaled deeply and straightened up. His dad had always been strong. When his dad died, the responsibility fell to him. It was a burden that he felt every day... but he refused to let it break him.

Turning to go back into his walk-in closet, Mark stopped and pulled out a small ladder. Stepping up on it, he began to push stuff out of his way on the top shelf. Hiding in the back, he pulled a black shoe box down. He hadn't opened the box in years. The dust on the top was thick and grimy. Brushing his hand across it, he read the name on the label. Cliffton Fischbach. Unable to look at it for a minute, he took a few more shaky breaths. When he composed himself enough, he opened the box. Reaching inside, he rummaged through the box until he found a small square white box. The little label on the white box read; 'Cliffton & Sunok Fischbach.' Their anniversary was written beneath it. Along with the date that they had divorced. Putting the shoebox back, Mark stepped down from the ladder with the little white box. His hands were starting to shake as held the box to his chest. Shaking his head, he told himself to keep it together. Peeking into the box to see if the items were still there, his mind betrayed him.

The memory of his dad came flooding back. His stepmother's scream and his father's last words ringing his in ears. Slumping against the wall, Mark slide to the floor and began to cry as silently as he could. Huddling against the wall, his chest and throat burned as the tears blurred his vision. Forcing himself to swallow and breathe, he scolded himself for doing this now. It didn't matter how many years had passed; the pain remained. The hole blasted through his heart would never heal. It was always the worst around the holidays. As the pain lightened a bit, Mark stiffened as Jack called aloud from the bedroom. "Mark? You ok?" Mark kicked the closet door shut, sniffling as he stated back in a forced composed voice. "I'm fine. Just got distracted. I'll be out in a minute." Mark frantically wiped his tears away with the palm of his hand, drying them along the sides of his pants. His face was probably so red. He hated himself for this. Jack started to open the closet door, and Mark panicked.

Kicking the door shut, he braced his foot behind the door to keep it shut. While a startled Jack asked him what was going on, Mark stashed the little box into one of his boots in the closet. Jack fought to open the door, snapping out. "Mark! Open this door!" Pushing the boot back into place, Mark reluctantly moved his foot from bracing the door shut. Jack threw the door open, causing the door to hit Mark's side. Mark flinched but turned his head to hide his red face. Jack inched inside, peeking around the door with a worried expression. Shooing the dogs out, Jack closed the closet door and kneeled beside him. Mark tried to keep from looking at him, but Jack cupped his face and forced him too. Jack's thumbs brushed away a few stray tears, asking Mark in a more loving voice. "Mark? What's wrong?" Mark didn't want to tell him. It wasn't his burden to carry and he didn't want him to worry about him. Wrapping an arm around Jack's neck, he pulled him into a hug. Jack hugged him back, causing Mark to say in a deep voice over his shoulder. "I'm ok."

Against his shoulder, Jack mumbled out in a shaky voice. "No. You're not. Mark, what aren't you telling me?" Mark hugged him tighter, saying a bit more collected now. "I just got lost in a bad memory. I'm fine, Jack. I promise." Jack pulled away a little, asking him hopefully. "What bad memory? What even brought it on?" Mark cupped Jack's face now, pleading with him just as hopefully. "Jack, I don't want to think about it. Please? I'm fine. Really. Can you go check on the babies? Please?" Jack shook his head with a doubtful look. Mark kissed him, whispering over his lips after. "I just need another minute to myself. Please?" Jack glanced around the closet for something before saying uneasily. "I'm afraid to leave you now... You're not going to... Mark, if something is wrong. You would tell me? Wouldn't you?" Mark took a second to connect what he was so concerned about. He thought he was going to kill himself. Huffing with a warm smile, Mark kissed Jack's forehead, telling him honestly. "I'd never do that to you, Jack. I promise you. If I ever felt like that, I'd get help. I'm not going to leave you like that."

Jack leaned into him to hug him again. Mark wrapped his arms around him to hold him tightly. This time when Jack begged to know what was wrong, he decided to see if he could relax him with something funny. Pointing to the ladder, he told him playfully. "I'm still not tall enough to reach the top shelf." Jack chuckled a little, snuggling closer as he told him coolly. "Mark... I'm serious. You said it was a bad memory..." Mark pointed to the ladder starting to joke out. "That is a bad memory! I always thought I'd be-" Mark drifted off as Jack sat up a little to look him in the eyes with his fragile ones. Jack's bright blue eyes were hard to lie to. Taking a deep breath, he reluctantly told him the light version of his internal pain. "The closer it gets to Christmas... the more I think about my dad. I didn't want you to see me like this. I'm usually better at distracting myself... but all the stuff going on... it got to me." Jack shrugged, saying innocently. "Why didn't you just tell me that? Mark, you can talk to me. You know that? Don't you?"

Mark brushed a thumb along Jack's cheek, telling him lovingly. "I know. But somethings... I have to work through on my own. I've had a good cry. And I feel better now. Honest." Jack leaned into his hand and Mark brushed his thumb more lovingly over his cheek to sooth him. After a minute, Sally began to suddenly laugh loudly. Jack raised an eyebrow, tensing up as he looked to the door. Mark smirked, saying softly. "Chica is probably licking her to death. You better go save her. I'll be out in a minute." Jack leaned in to kiss his cheek, then climbed up to his feet. Jack opened the door and left it open as he left. Mark smirked to himself, he knew why Jack refused to close it. Staggering up to his feet, Mark dusted himself off and stretched. Peeking around the door to make sure that Jack was gone, Mark reached back into the boot to retrieve the little white box. Cradling the box in his hands, he took a calming breath and slowly opened it. Inside, set together on a plush white pillow were two golden wedding bands.

When his mother had divorced, she had put their wedding rings away. Something about them had always been sentimental to her. Closing the box back up, he quickly moved to his suitcase and jammed the box into one of his clean socks. Tucking it away in a spot that Jack shouldn't go digging around in, he closed the suitcase. Zipping it up slowly, he wondered if his mom would give him her blessing to use them. However, he had to figure out if he even wanted to use them first. His mother's marriage had fallen through, and she never remarried. He didn't want that to happen to him and Jack... but he was afraid. Their fighting was getting worse... and he just didn't know if asking him to marry him was coming at the right time. He didn't want it to be a band aid to a mortal wound. He needed to be sure that they'd survive the winter. Taking his bag out to the living room, he told Jack to pack while he watched the babies. As early as they had to leave, he wanted to beat the holiday rush. He was eager to go home. His mom always knew what to do. To Be Continued...