Jack laid very still in the dark, listening to the sounds above. He could hear the Hunters searching and talking amongst themselves. Some searched the barn more closely. When someone searched the tack room, Jack carefully covered Mark's mouth and hoped that he didn't snore. After hearing the person move away, Jack relaxed and moved his hand to Mark's neck. Mark was so exhausted that he didn't even stir. His body had stopped shaking, which made Jack a little happy. The hours ticked on for a time, before he heard Geralf tell some of the Hunters to get some rest. He wanted to maintain the patrols and pretend that he had this under control. Then later in the night, he'd search for them. Jack bit his lip, pulling a blanket up to cover both himself and Mark. Being here made him so anxious, but he didn't have a choice. Mark was hurt and they wouldn't get far with so many people looking for them. Staying up was easy when his adrenaline was pumping, but as the hours went by and boredom set in, it was harder. All he could do was sit in complete darkness. He struggled to keep his eyes open, until Mark asked him softly. "Are you tired?"

Jack scoffed, mumbling out. "No. I'm wide awake. Why do you ask?" Mark's breath warmed his neck when he shifted his head on his shoulder to say sweetly. "You keep jerking." Jack blushed, guiltily apologizing to him. Mark's warm breath puffed over his neck, causing Jack to blush when he asked Mark nervously. "Feeling better?" Mark's voice answered in such a low deep tone that it made a shiver run down Jack's spine. "A bit. Still a bit stiff and sore but its fading." Jack nodded, mumbling out shyly to the darkness. "That's good... When you recover, we can try to leave." Jack inhaled lightly when he felt the back of Mark's hand move up along his stomach. For a moment he thought Mark was going to do something, before he heard him scratching at something. Fearing that he was scratching at his bandage, Jack grabbed his wrist to stop him. Pulling his hand back and against his own chest unintentionally, he warned him coolly. "Don't do that. You could open the wound." Mark chuckled softly, then leaned clear to his ear to whisper into it almost playfully. "I was itching my neck. Or would you like to do it for me?" Jack gulped, his arm flexing under Mark's head as he stammered out. "Well... I... I didn't know. I can't see. Wait... Can you?"

Mark lifted his other hand and removed something from Jack's hair, while saying a little innocently. "Nope." Jack scoffed, shaking his head as he mumbled out. "You fucking liar..." Mark let out a low chuckle, before his fingers brushed something off his cheek. Jack couldn't stop himself from leaning into his hand just a tad. It was hard to convince himself that Mark could see in the dark. He wanted to believe that he couldn't see his reaction to being touched by him. However, Mark brought his face closer to his and whispered so beautifully to him. "You are stunning in the dark. I can't look away..." Jack stiffened, narrowing his eyes on the darkness. He was completely offended by that, until Mark whispered to him so sweetly. "You don't hide your expressions as much in the dark." Jack's expression softened, curiously asking in a timid voice. "You can see me...?" Mark's fingers traced down Jack's cheek and along his jaw. Tilting Jack's chin up just a little, Mark whispered over his lips so softly. "I can see you in shades of grey with eyes that are so big and...beautiful." Jack blushed, shying away from him as he mumbled out. "I think the silver in your blood is messing with you."

Mark chuckled softly, before his lips brushed so lightly over his cheek to his ear. Jack bit his lip, closing his eyes as his whole body trembled to his warm lips and breath. Over his ear, Mark replied in a deep buttery tone. "In a way it has. If you hadn't pulled the bullet out when you did... I wouldn't be this calm. Although, I can feel the poison still in my veins... but Jack... You saved me from the worst of it." Jack tensed, asking in a sudden panic. "Mark...? Are you dying?" Mark didn't answer, he just turned Jack's head to brush his lips over his as he whispered lovingly. "Jack... I'm sorry. I've lied to you... but I want you to know that. I had no intention of giving you to them... I've only ever protected you. I knew you were in the bakery that night... but I sent them to your house." Jack blinked, shifting a little to ask him a bit frantic. "Mark? What do you-? What's happening?" Mark turned away from him to try muffling a gruff cough, before straining out. "Silver poisoning... I don't... before I'm too weak. I just want you to know I-" Jack shushed him, crawling over him and across the floor. Snatching the box of matches, he struck one and gasped in the dim firelight. Mark's skin had thick blue veins standing out promptly and his dark brown eyes were turning a sharp grey.

Jack swallowed, asking Mark hopefully. "Is there an antidote?" Mark shrugged, mumbling out weakly. "I don't know... but I want to tell you-" Jack blew out the match, leaning closer to kiss his cheek as he told him bluntly. "Save it. Just hang on for me and you can tell me later." Mark snatched his wrist, growling out. "Jack, no. You should worry about-" Twisting his arm free, Jack cut him off to whisper back heatedly. "I'm worried about a lot of things. You're one of them. Just let me do this." Mark sat up, grabbing his arm to say firmly. "Damn it, Jack. It's too dangerous." Jack unbuckled his red cloak, giving it to Mark as he told him just as firmly. "I know that... but it's only dangerous if I get caught. Stay here." Jack pulled from Mark, listening to him growl but he was too weak to chase him. Going to the stairs, Jack inhaled deeply and pushed the trapdoor up slowly. The trapdoor creaked a little, but it was soft. Sliding his slender body out of the trapdoor, he closed it and rushed to crouch behind a saddle rack. The tack room door had been closed but he could see a bit better with the lamplight from outside the little high window and the warm lamplight that lined the door from lights on the other side of it.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he stayed in a couch and eased up to the door. Turning the handle, he opened it just a crack to peek out. He didn't see anyone but heard a few people snoring from the floor above. Opening the door just enough to slip out, he closed the door behind him and rushed to hide in the nearest open horse stall. While hiding in the stall, Jack's mind raced with a place the Hunters might put their medical supplies. It was unlikely that they had an antidote, but he had to try. Working with as much silver as the Hunters did, they had to have a little around, but where? His eyes looked over the cages and the little worktables they had around the barn. Then his eyes went to the carriages that they had. There were bags in the back and weapon trunks laid out around it like they were still unloading supplies that they had need of. Would it be in there? Jack glanced around, then started to creep out. He only made it out a step or two, when he heard footsteps and rushed back to hide. From a stall farther down, he heard someone's heavy footsteps and a familiar voice say softly. "Perfect. He's wounded." From somewhere else nearby, another voice asked the man curiously. "Did you say something, Geralf?"

Geralf huffed with a smirk, answering more openly. "I said, he's wounded. The gunshot the boys heard. Someone didn't miss. They got him. It was a good hit too. There is hardly any blood, but it's here in this stall. Just a drop or two... but with any luck. In forty-two to seven-two hours... he should be dead. Have the hounds picked up the trail of the witch-boy yet?" The other man grunted, answering grimly. "They are practically chasing their tails. The boy has been all over this village. The boy's parents are not helping either. They don't believe that he's a witch." Geralf huffed, stating out flatly. "Of course not. He's denied his own mother being one for years. Keep an eye on them. If the boy goes to them, I want to know about it." Geralf then rushed out. "Oh! And Andrew. Fetch me one of the hounds. This should be enough blood that we can track where the devil ran off to die. In his condition, I doubt he's gone far. Even with the witch-boys help." Jack stayed still and barely breathed as he listened to Andrew leave and Geralf chuckle out to himself. "I will find you, little red. And when I do... Oh, the fun we'll have." Jack clenched his jaw, feeling sick to his stomach.

Geralf walked to the carriage, rummaging around in the bags for something. Jack risked a peek to watch him. Seeing him remove what looked like a polishing kit before heading to a stall across the barn that held the large bronze bull on wheels. Unlocking the lock on the side, he propped open the bull's side to reveal a hallow interior. Then he kneeled to clean the ash from a little firepit underneath the bull's belly. Jack's whole body told him to stay put, but he couldn't just sit here. He had to move. Glancing at the polish in the bag, he bit his lip and rushed out in a crouch to snatch the little bottle. Then rushing to the stall that Geralf had come from, he searched for the drops of Mark's blood. Squirting the polish over the drops on the floor and wall of the stall, he left a little trail to the hay in the corner. Then tossing the polish to leak out in the hay, he moved the oil lamp that sat near the blood to position it closer to the hay. When it was set to his liking, he went to the open carriage and slipped inside. Inside the carriage was so lavish and fancy. It had the softest bench seats that he'd ever touched and the silkiest curtains. Thinking quick, he reached under the bench seats for the seat lock. Pressing it, he lifted the bench seat to look in the hidden comparts that almost all carriages had.

Inside, he dug through expensive bottles of wine and fancy snacks. When he didn't find it in that one. He turned to look under the other one, his ears listening intently to the sounds outside the carriage. He could hear Geralf humming and the soft squeaks as he rubbed the brass bull to a shine. He could even hear the loud snoring from the lofts. Jack's heart raced as he eased up the next seat and dug around in it. This one had more potential. It had a lot of his personal products. It had fine soaps and even a perfume bottle or two with different scents. He found a wedding ring with a man's name engraved into the inside with a leather cord that hung it on the wall of the compartment with dangling wolf fangs. He even spotted a picture with two young men holding a wolf pup, but Jack didn't linger on it. There were diaries and letters, but he brushed them aside for a small wooden box. Opening the box, he froze as he saw the little bottles of a white liquid that read 'Antigen Ag' on the labels. Picking up the little syringe that was tucked in another small wooden case, he stuffed them into his pockets. He pulled down the bench seat to set it back in place, when Andrew returned and called out. "Geralf, here's the dog that you wanted." In a panic, Jack whirled around in the carriage to snatch up the nice silver knife in the other bench compartment with the snacks. Taking aim at the lantern, he raised his hand and threw it toward the lamp.

The knife smashed through the glass of the lamp, knocking it over. With all the polish he'd leaked around, the little flame caught and trailed into the hay and up the stall wall. Andrew and Geralf jerked their heads toward the sound, before Geralf snapped out in bitter regret. "Shit! The lamp!" Andrew and Geralf rushed toward the stall. Geralf ordered Andrew to tie the dog up and start fetching water from the rain barrel. Jack seized the distraction to slip out the other side of the carriage and into the stall with the large brass bull to hide. Geralf helped to fight the fire and Jack quickly hopped over into the next stall to open the latch for the window that usually let the horses see out in the summer. Then without waiting, he made a mad dash for the tack room while everyone's eyes were on the fire that was trying to burn out of control. Just as he made it back into the tack room, Jack heard Andrew snap out. "Fucking rats!" Jack smirked, until he heard Geralf suddenly say in a dark voice as the stall window slammed shut in the breeze. "Ya... pretty big rat to throw a knife from my carriage..." Jack eased toward the trapdoor, listening to Geralf tell Andrew firmly. "Take the dog outside. Check the village closely. Even the bakery... They are still here somewhere. Someone must know where."

Smirking, Jack crept back down into the trapdoor. That was the craziest thing that he'd ever done, and he couldn't believe that he'd done it without getting caught. Shutting and locking the trapdoor, he went back to Mark. He heard Mark sit up, asking him in a worried whisper of a voice. "Jack...? I smell smoke." Jack reached out for him, whispering back. "It's ok. I just made a little fire. I think I found something." Mark huffed, uttering out gruffly. "You could have gotten killed..." Jack pulled out the little boxes, telling him swiftly. "It was a risk I was willing to make." Mark grabbed his wrists, asking him in such a sweet broken voice. "Why?" Jack looked into the darkness where he'd heard his voice to whisper back honestly. "Because I like you and I want a chance to get to know you better... I can't do that if I lose you." Jack bit his lip, then held up the boxes, telling him nervously. "I found this little bottle with the name Antigen Ag. He kept it hidden, so... I'm guessing. But... I think I remember my dad saying something about 'Ag' meaning Silver." Mark chuckled a little, asking curiously. "How do you know this isn't liquid silver?"

Jack shrugged, mumbling out. "Because... Antigens are usually substances that stimulate an immune system response. They help the body fight off infection or the toxin that follows the name." Mark's voice was calm and curious when he asked. "How do you know that?" Jack gave a little blushing shrug as he said embarrassed. "Granny... She used to tell me certain plants had antigens that helped fight sickness when made into treats." Mark messed with the boxes and filled up the syringe. When he finished though, he told Jack uneasily. "You'll have to do it... my hands are losing their grip. Taking a little candle, Jack risked lighting it and took Mark's arms. Putting the thick needle to Mark's large blue vein, he eased it into the skin and slowly injected the contents with a tiny hope that he hadn't made a huge mistake. Mark inhaled deeply, slowly easing down on the bed. Pulling the syringe out, Jack asked shakily. "Mark? How do you feel?" Mark inhaled deeply, then told him in a relaxed tone. "I think it's working. I can feel the pain fading. It feels like fresh water in my veins." Mark shivered with a smirk. Jack lifted the candle up to see better, watching the dark blue veins along Mark's arm fade slowly. It was working.

Smiling, Jack blew out the candle and stroked Mark's arm as he said happily. "You had me worried there for a bit." Mark smirked, telling him warmly. "I could tell. Come here and lay down with me for a bit. You've earned it, you stubborn little lamb." To Be Continued...