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***Grey's POV***

Mak and I had come full circle after my bout with stupidity. I showered him with all the love and attention he deserved. I continuously reinforced my deep emotions that tethered our souls together as one. The pull to be near him had become so intense, the strings of my soul felt physically tensioned.

Weeks went on and a nagging, repetitive feeling of urgency latched on to my soul. Mark has become reclused. He tried and failed too many times to withdraw from our group. We practically dragged him out of bed. At night, Mak and I stood guard at his door as he whimpered in his sleep.

Whatever pushed Mark and Sebastian together was pulling desperately at his soul with the absence of a man he didn't know he loved.

Mak had repeatedly told me he hit dead ends on every avenue he searched for Sebastian. We had talked about it so often it felt like beating a dead horse. Dad has tried as well. But, neither were capable of tracking down the famous model.

Every moment that passed proved that Mark was indeed consumed by pain associated with his missing soul mate. It was physically painful to watch him struggle with his feelings of loss. Depression lurked and we tried aggressively to fight off the demons waiting to consume Mark.

We did our best to occupy our friend. The five of us became inseparable, more so than usual. We went out on the town. We watched games at home. We spent evenings at the gym, or at the local basketball courts shooting hoops.

In the moment, Mark seemed fine. But, as his best friend I could feel the deep pain that seared through my friend's broken heart. He searched and scanned the crowds whenever possible, as if Seb would materialize and soothe his tattered wounds.

When Mark did sleep it was in short bursts, often awakening in a pool of sweat. We would change his sheets and coax him to join us instead for something that resembled fun. After much manipulation he would comply, somewhat reluctant to leave the cocoon of his loneliness.

Mark was tired and sluggish. His mood was becoming one of irrationality and pessimism.

I threatened intervention, fully intending on following thru if the situation continued to develop.

I know I had no right to silently judge, I really wasn't. My worry and love for my friend was so overwhelming that I tried and failed to come up with anything to comfort his lost soul. We all love him so god damned much. We missed the guy who had carelessly bartered his heart to one Sebastian Fucking Royals.

Sebastian had branded Mark with a personal possessive emblem. Mark no longer belonged to himself. I had almost wished he would go back to his playboy ways, using women and throwing them away.

Fortunately, he was in no shape to fulfill my idiocy. He ate, lived and breathed all things Royal. He needed that man like oxygen. Without him, he was aspirating.

My morning started off in the usual way. I stood over the counter, carefully assembling our little family's breakfast. Mak manned the coffee maker, like normal. Attentively, my love made five cups of the best home brewed coffee. I don't know what he did to that shit. All I know is it was superb.

I plated the delicious Belgium waffles. Mark loves the things. He smiles like a kid on Christmas on site.

Mark comes stumbling to the table.

I watch as his swollen eyes tiredly search for the coffee he knows will be placed before him.

Mak lovingly sets his coffee down in front of Mark before placing his soft hand on Mark's cheek. The look of pity that fills his hazel eyes is not lost on me. The boy just has a soft spot for his friends. We are all lucky enough to be among those he loves.

The front door comes flying open. Dad waltzes in without a greeting. He grabs Mark's coffee and starts drinking it. I chuckle and watch Mark stand to get a replacement cup. Dad is a fucking tank and Mark wouldn't bother to complain because he stole his beloved morning beverage.

Mak giggles as Mark silently fixes his replacement cup of coffee.

Dad quietly makes his way into the living room and turns the television on. He flips thru the channels and I can't help but chuckle when the news pops up. The man is nothing if not absolutely predictable with his morning routine.

"Good morning Dad." I yell from the breakfast table.

Dad throws his hand up in the air as if that is all the acknowledgement we will be receiving at the moment.

I shrug and Mak giggles. He earns himself a playful kiss from me. His beautiful hazel eyes flutter under his lashes. He's so fucking adorable I want to lap at his face like a puppy, eating him up in all his cuteness.

Mark chuckles lightly and grabs his fork before cutting into the Belgium waffles that I set in front of him earlier. He thanks me for my service.

I smile and wink, happy to do anything that pleases my broken best friend.

Mark finishes off his breakfast in record speed. I smirk. I literally make the best fucking waffles in the entire world. Mark scratches his abs as he finishes off his cup of coffee. He places the mug down in the sink. The maid will wash it along with the rest of the dishes. I'm so lazy when it comes to dishes. I hate the feel of slimy dishwater touching my hands. Thinking about it makes me internally cringe.

I don't stress about the amount of work my maid and dear friend has on her proverbial plate. I am one of the cleanest people I know. The woman gets paid to change out scented oil and wash laundry. It seems like a fair gig.

Mark exits the kitchen and slowly make his way to where Dad sits. Dad has his right ankle propped on his left knee. He intently watches the news while sipping Mark's coffee. He holds no remorse for stealing my best friend's drink.

My eyes wonder to the television. The usual Manhattan headlines swipe across the screen. I pass my attention over to Mark. He inattentively stares at the screen. It holds nothing of value for him. That is clear in his actions.

Mark's head presses back against the comfortable couch and he leans back. A sigh escapes his lips. I'm willing to bet he is thinking of his living ghost. A small smile graces his face and his eyes close slowly. I watch as he falls asleep even though he literally just woke up.

Small whimpers leave Mark's mouth as we finish eating breakfast. His body continuously flinches. His dream must be vivid. He is knocked out cold but his body responds to the mental picture being played out.

I watch carefully, ready to wake him if necessary. His sleeping form has caught all of our attention as we clean up our plates.

We make our way into the living room. Each of us takes a seat and stare absently towards the television. Every movement and noise that comes from Mark recaptures my attention.

"How long has this been going on?" Dad asks with a deep sigh. He motions his head toward Mark's restless being.

"A while. It's truly worrisome." Mak admits. His eyes glisten with stolen tears of sympathy for his best friend.

I rub Mak's back, silently cooing him into a calmer state.

"I really can't believe we haven't found him." Kip breathes out. Mario holds Kip's hand, tethering Kip's sanity.

"I am so frustrated with the whole situation. Mark is amazing. Why would someone leave him? It's complete bullshit." Mak angrily whispers.

"We don't know his reasoning. Let's pray there is a good excuse." Mario tried to calm my ailing baby.

"I know. I'm just upset. I can't help it. I love him. He deserves what we all have." Mak whimpers and Mark starts moaning in his sleep.

I cock my brow and smirk. His dream must have gotten better, judging by the obvious tent in his pants.

Mark moves his hand over his pants and starts rubbing frantically against his groin. He might be embarrassed when he wakes, but we just watch instead of trying to stop him.

Mak giggles when Mark pants huskily. His hand never stops moving and he is grabbing himself relentlessly. His legs jerk and his back arches into a sexy curve.

Mario puts his fist in his mouth and bites down. His eyes glimmer with tears as he stifles the chuckle.

"Shhh." I warn them. It's to entertaining to stop Mark. It's like a live wet dream.

My Dad holds his stomach as his shoulders bounce with his silent laughter.

Mak bites his lips and his eyes stare wildly.

"This is sexy." Kip purrs.

I nod my head. It's actually quite arousing.

Mark's hip come off the couch while he bucks into his own fist. I can't believe he is sleeping thru this. Sweat rolls off his face and down his neck. His mouth falls open with moan after delicious moan.

"He's gonna make me cum." Mak sheepishly admits.

I look at his crotch. Mak is hard as a rock.

"Seb." Mark cries out brokenly.

"Sebastian" Mark moans as his body lurches upwards and he stops palming himself and falls heavily against the couch. His grin is wickedly funny. He looks so peaceful.

Mark gets a sweet tear that walks down his cheek. His face moves into a serene state.

"I love you Seb. So much. So, much." Mark whimpers sadly.

"Mark." I say. I look at him and more tears pour down his face.

"Seb, don't go." Mark cries out. Tears wet his cheeks. My heart pulls heavily at the pain painted on his features.

"Mark." My Dad is over there instantly shaking him.

"Please. I love you. Don't leave me." My heart hammers against my chest. Mark cries so brokenly I feel like I will throw up. His hands grip my dad's muscled arms.

"I promise." He cries. "Just don't leave me." My Dad winces when Mark's nails dig into his hard muscles. Mark throws his head forward, hitting his forehead against my dad's chest. Tears stream down his face. He begs Seb not to leave him again.

My dad's fingers rake through Mark's hair soothingly. My dad wears a pained and sad expression. Dad's large palm cradles Mark's head to his warm muscles that lay against Mark's cheek.

"I love you." Mark whispers. "Stay." My whole body tenses. He's so in love.

My eyes are painfully burning. Tears threaten to spill for Mark's pain. The wet trail of never ending tears flowing effortlessly down Mark's cheeks. They splash against his bare arms.

Mark whimpers. He sniffles. His head burrows deeply into the embrace provided by my Dad's arms.

"Mark. Please wake up." My Dad frantically begs.

Blinking, Mark brushes his beautiful eyelashes against dad's cotton t-shirt that is tightly clinging to his bold muscular form. Mark turns his head.  He appears confused and completely dazed.

My Dad tries to soothe him and calm him down.

Mark lifts his watery eyes and stares deeply into dad's warm brown pleading eyes that are saturated in a painful display of worry.

Mark's head falls back. He move his hands to Dad's chest and clasps his fingers tightly into his t-shirt. The cotton fabric covers his nose and stifles his oxygen. Mark cries hard. His body trembles as debilitating sobs rip out of his chest. Dad embraces Mark tightly and pulls him closer.

I don't care that Mark is a grown ass man crying pitifully. Everything for him fucking hurts. His body emanates the pain. It's difficult to witness. He looks so fragile.

He looks ready to give up. As if his heart has shattered into unmendable pieces. I want to comfort him.

It's not fair. It's not fucking okay. He put his heart in someone's hands and now he is a mess of shambles.

"Shhhhh. It's going to be okay. I will do whatever it takes, son. Please calm down. I hurt when you hurt. I will storm hell's walls for you Mark." Promises permeate the air as Dad tries desperately to pull Mark back down from his personal purgatory.

"I'm sorry." Mark whimpers like a child who is locked in a dark room, scared of the invisible monsters lurking.

"You have nothing to apologize for." I swipe at the tears that have no idea how to discontinue, steadily making an appearance over his handsome face.

"We love you." The angelic voice of my love makes its way into the air. He could cool burning embers with his gentleness.

"Find him." Mark whispers a demand.

"I promise you, on my life." Dad lifts Mark's face. The pads of his thumbs quickly chase the tears rolling down Mark's cheeks. Dad smiles a comforting grin. Mark nods in acceptance as Dad's warm brown eyes make silent promises to Mark's desperate blues.

"No work today." Dad directs to Mark. It's not a question.

"Okay." Mark agrees quickly. He looks too tired to move.

"I'm spending the day with you. Just you and me son. You need this." Dad continues putting out demands.

Dad shifts and Mark curls into his side. Mark's eyes scan the room. He meets the saddened eyes of his best friends. Each pair of eyes looks physically strained at his current state.

Kip smiles gently, his arms crossed. He grips his forearms with white knuckles, clutching his muscular biceps.

Mario holds Kip from behind. His eyes scream apologies and determination to diminish Mark's pain.

I looks at Mark with pure sympathy. My eyes hold contact trying desperately to convey my love for Mark.

Mak walks slowly over and falls over Mark's body. He wraps his arms around Mark like a blanket sheltering him from the cruel world Mark is enduring. Mark sniffles as his arm captures Mak's small frame, breaking his fall.

With all of these people who so adamantly love him, I hope he doesn't feel so lost.

Mark relaxes. His body visibly gives up the war it has waged on itself. Mark closes his eyes once again.

"Sleep, brother. We have you." I whisper as I lean down and kiss his forehead. A soft sigh escapes his trembling lips.

We have to find Seb. The sooner, the better. I can't lose Mark. He is quickly fading into someone I can barely recognize. He's just so fucking broken.