Mark felt Jack jump in his arms, but didn't feel any pain.  Turning to look back at Clifford, Mark realized that Clifford had turned to aim his gun on Orson.  Orson touched his chest and found his shirt damp with blood.  Clifford lowered his small pistol with tears running down his face.  The gun only had one shot and he had used it on Orson.  Mark straightened up and flinched as a second gun went off.  Mark locked eyes with Clifford for a brief second, before he collapsed to the floor.  From the stairway, Orson sat down gripping the railing tightly in shock.  Mark's gaze fell on Roger and his smoking gun.  Mark was a bit in shock himself.  That bullet could've easily went through Clifford and into himself.  Jack suddenly let out a sharp cry as he was yanked out of Mark's arms.  Snatching Jack's wrist Mark refused to let go.  Trevor quickly brought his sharp claws up against Jack's throat just under his collar, pressing the sharp points into Jack's flesh.  Mark's grip loosened on Jack's wrist as he watched a drop of blood roll down Jack's neck.  Trevor tightened his grip on Jack, telling Mark in a stone cold voice.  "Give me a reason to tear open his throat. I've had a score to settle with this pup". 

Mark reluctantly released Jack's wrist and told Trevor gently.  "Look, Trevor. Your master is dead. There is no need to do this anymore".  Rodger pressed the gun to Mark's back, stating sternly.  "Oh, but there is. Your mutt needs to be taught a lesson. So, be a good master and let us play with him first. Then he is all yours".  Mark looked up into Jack's terrified eyes.  He could see Jack shaking.  Sighing heavily, Mark told Rodger in a calm voice.  "You never were a good fighter, Roger".  Rodger chuckled, sneering back.  "I was better than you".  Mark smirked, answering casually.  "I wouldn't know. I didn't stay to fight you".  Before Rodger could respond, Mark stepped back, firmly stepping on Rodger's foot.  Twisting his body to knock Rodger across the face with his elbow, breaking Rodger's nose.  Rodger lowered his gun and Mark turned around to face him.  Grabbing Rodger by the back of the neck and bending him over to meet his knee.  The force knocked Rodger back across the ground, sending the gun spinning down the hall. 

Mark turned to find Trevor and Jack were gone!  Mark started to run for one on the breeding rooms, when Rodger kicked out to trip him.  Landing on his chest, Mark forced himself back up onto all fours, just as Rodger landed on top of him.  Rodger's weight flattened Mark back across the ground as Rodger spit out through gritted teeth.  "I hope Trevor tears his ass apart"!  Mark grabbed ahold of Rodger's arm and flipped him back across the floor, grabbing his throat tightly in his hands to pin him there.  Rodger beat uselessly on his arm for a second before punching Mark's bullet wound.  Mark let out a scream and released Rodger.  His vison blurring from the pain.  Rodger shifted and kicked Mark square in the chest with his feet, sending Mark back against the floor.  From inside one of the rooms, Mark heard Jack scream and sat up.  Only to have Rodger punch him back down.  Mark felt his mouth fill up with blood as Rodger stood over him, yelling out.  "You hear that Mark?! That's the sound of your mutt wishing he was dead"!

Mark spat blood across the ground, before snapping back.  "Then you don't know, Jack, very well".  Rodger looked down at him confused as Mark reached back to grab the gun.  Rodger dropped down over him to reach for it too, but Mark was faster.  Taking the gun and aiming it at Rodger's chest as he pulled the trigger.  Shoving Rodger's  dead body off him, Mark bolted to his feet and began checking the breeding rooms.  In the last one, Mark flew open the door to see Jack straddling Trevor and punching the life out of him aggressively!  Mark run up behind Jack, dropping the gun to take ahold of his shoulders to stop him.  Pulling him back away from Trevor's unconscious body, while telling him loudly but comfortingly.  "JACK, STOP! Jack, he's out! Jack, it's alright".  Jack leaned back against his chest.  His body slowly calming down the longer he sat in Mark's warm embrace.  Mark rocked him for a bit, rubbing Jack's arms as he whispered to him.  "I got you". 

After a visit to the hospital, Mark was finally able to take Jack home.  Stepping through the front door almost felt foreign.  Chica raced up to Jack and he bent down to hug her.  Mark closed the door, telling Jack softly.  "You wanna take a shower first"?  Jack released Chica and nodded.  Standing up, he reached out for Mark's hand.  Maybe he could get him to come watch?  He just didn't want to be alone.  However, Mark moved passed him like he didn't notice.  Grabbing Chica gently by the collar to lead her out the back door.  Mark had been this way since the hospital.  He barely looked at him and wouldn't touch him.  Jack swallowed nervously and headed for the bathroom.  Did Mark find him repulsive now?  Dropping the blanket the hospital had wrapped his naked body in, he slipped into the hot shower.  Jack quickly began to clean himself up.  He felt dirty.  The more he cleaned the more dirty he felt.  His mind drifting.  Reliving the horror.  Being brought to the red room... so named because Barry the butcher was a terrible medic and the place was stained in blood.  Being laid back onto a cold slab, while Barry stripped him down... fondled him and stitched up his wound poorly.  Enjoying Jack's whimpering and cries of immobilized pain.  Right down to him being washed by Barry.

Barry's hands felt like they were all over him again.  Touching him.  Fondling him.  Jack dropped the body wash container and had to sit.  His hands were shaking too badly and he felt sick.  He needed Mark.  Mark's touch always relaxed him, but Mark wasn't touching him.  Touching the collar around his neck, Jack forced himself to stumble out of the shower.  He had to know Mark was still here.  Soaking wet, Jack walked down the hall and found Mark standing in the kitchen.  He was feeding Chica something from his hand, when he noticed Jack.  Mark moved only a step or two closer, asking concerned.  "Jack? You alright? You're dripping all over the rug".  Jack reached for him and Mark hesitated.  Seeing the hurt in Jack's eyes, Mark told him tenderly.  "Jack... What happened to you was my fault. I don't deserve your touch".  Jack leaned against the counter for support, desperately pleading out.  "Mark, please".  Mark shook his head and gestured to walk him back, saying softly.  "Jack, all you need is a shower and some rest. Come on". 

Jack dropped to his knees when Mark was close enough.  Taking the waiting position Mark had taught him and pleaded out loudly.  "Mark, please! I need you right now".  Mark stopped before him and Jack bowed his head.  Even if Mark just ran a hand through his hair, he would be happy.  He didn't want to feel THEIR haunting touches.  He wanted to feel Mark's lovingly warm ones.  Mark's hands rose and Jack's heart skipped a beat in anticipation.  Only to feel his collar come loose as Mark removed it and walked away.  To Be Continued...