Mark huffed with relief, his eyes falling on the radio as he told Sean softly. "See? There are others out there. We aren't alone." Sean smiled only slightly, answering dryly. "Maybe. That could just be a recording that is still playing over the radio long after... And even if they are alive. They'll draw in a horde before too long. We saw it happen on the news. The more people you collect, the more attention you draw." Mark stared blankly at the radio, his heart twisting in his chest as he told Sean seriously. "I'm going for it." Mark turned off the radio and grabbed his backpack. Sean snatched his wrist to stop him, stating out sternly. "What? No! Mark, we are safe here. Shelters are ticking time bombs. It may be safe now, but we both know that it won't last. They never do." Mark yanked his wrist from Sean's grip, retorting bluntly. "They said they were in Nevada, right?" Sean shrugged at him with disinterested concern, snapping back. "Mark, are you listening to me? Why are you even considering this?!"

Mark stopped looking over the contents in his backpack to lock hard eyes with Sean. He didn't want to say it this way, but Sean left him no other choice. Taking a deep breath, he lightly told him with a hopeful tone. "Amy's in Nevada." The color drained from Sean's face. Mark tore his eyes away from Sean's heart broken blues eyes. Continuing to take account of everything he'd need for a long trip, he listened to Sean tell him in a dead voice. "You don't know that. Mark, we are a long way from Nevada. You'd be risking your life against a fifty/fifty chance." Mark shrugged carelessly, answering Sean without looking at him. "You'd want me to come for you. Odds like that are better than nothing." Sean's voice turned angry as he snapped out. "No. I wouldn't. I'd want you to live. If she is alive, she'll make her own way home." Mark tensed, slowly looking up at Sean. Sean was treading on VERY shaky ground with talk like that. Mark tried to hold his own anger back as he uttered out in warning. "Or she heard the broadcast and is huddled up there. She could be injured or scared. I don't care what odds there are. I'm going to see if she is there. If she is, I'm getting her out of there before they get overrun."

Sean shook his head, snapping out bitterly. "Mark, odds are that she's not there. If she was, someone from there would have come looking for us by now. Maybe they are on there way. We should stay here and wait it out." Mark shook his head, replying with a grunt. "Don't do that shit. Not now. You know damn well they wouldn't send a search party out unless they had proof that we were alive. She won't be able to convince people like them to come out that far for us. So, I'll leave a note here and go to her." Sean clenched his jaw, snatching Mark's bag away to throw at the padded wall in frustration. Mark rose onto his knees defensively. Sean was acting like a spoiled child. Sean rose to his knees to stay at his eye level as he snapped back cold and bitter. "She's dead, Mark! Let her go before you get yourself killed too!" Mark couldn't stop himself. His anger and pain boiled to the surface. He refused to let his words be the truth. Clenching his fist, he punched Sean hard across the cheek. Sean fell to all fours on the mattress, while he loomed over him to heatedly state out. "Don't you EVER say that again! You don't know that!"

Sean looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, hissing out through clenched teeth. "What makes her so fucking special to you?! Huh?!" Mark's guard dropped. The pain in Sean's voice cut him deep. Then Sean's leg kicked him in the gut so hard that Mark thought he'd throw up. Leaning forward to clutch his stomach and groan, Sean rose up to punch him. The blow knocked Mark to the mattress. Chica paced the room, whining loudly with confusion at their dispute. Sean leaned over him slightly, shouting at him heatedly. "Why do you do this to me?!" Mark quickly rolled up onto all fours, shoving Sean backward. Staggering upright on his knees, he clutched his aching stomach and retorted sharply. "Oh, that's low even for you! You were the one that threw yourself at me like a bitch in heat! You're the one that never moved on! It was joke! I went along with it because I thought you knew that! If I had known that it was real for you, I would have ended Septiplier sooner!" Sean stayed on his back, covering his face with his hands as he started crying.

Mark's eyes started to tear up, seeing how much pain Sean was in. Steeling himself from it though, he gritted out through clenched teeth. "Don't fucking cry... That's cheating." Sean rolled onto his side, half curling into a ball as he tried to hide from him. Mark's heart shattered, causing him to sit down on the mattress weakly. He hated himself for hitting Sean. He hadn't deserved it. Sean was just trying to be rational. Glancing down at his hand, he saw how red his knuckles were. Flexing his fingers, he sat listening to Sean cry. Sean was his best friend and yet... their relationship was far from being friendly. Chica crept across Sean's mattress, nudging him with her nose and uttering out small whines. Sean didn't acknowledge her. He just stayed so still and cried as softly as he could manage. Chica licked his ear, then laid behind him with her head on his side. Her eyes were on Mark though. Those big accusing eyes. Even without words, her look said how unhappy she was at their fight. Over the months, she had grown attached to having Sean around.

Sean was like her brother. While Mark was more like her father. Mark let out a heavy sigh, telling Sean lightly. "Stay here. I'm going to check out the house." Mark grabbed Becky, slowly staggering up onto his feet. He had just reached the door, when Sean uttered out to him without moving. "Was it ever real for you? Even for a just moment...?" Mark exhaled deeply, tapping Becky against his leg as he thought about it. There was a time one or twice that he thought he felt something for Sean. A time before Amy and Signe had come into their lives. A time even after them... but what did it matter? That was all in the past. The past was gone. A distant memory. Inhaling through his nose, he muttered out the lie icily. "No. It was always just a joke. I only ever wanted you as a friend." Sean's voice quivered when he weakly strained out through soft sniffles. "I wish I never met you... You're not who I thought you were." Mark winced, closing his eyes for a few seconds to recover from how those words hurt him.

Only to find himself saying aloud in a gentle voice. "Shame. You're exactly what I expected." Without saying anything else, Mark carefully opened the door to peek out. He didn't hear or see anything in the hall. Quickly stepped out, he closed the door and waited. Nothing made a sound. Stepping around the green slime that the Spitter had left behind, he made his way out to the living room as quietly as he could. Pressing himself against the edge of the hall, he peeked out into the living room. The glass backdoor was shattered, the curtains billowing in the cool breeze of the day. Mark shook his head with disappointment. It would take forever to board that up without making noise. Moving to the stuff they had collected from the neighbor's house; he carefully began carrying it to the office door. They needed to go through the supplies and repack their bags in case they had to bail at a moments notice. During one of his trips to the office, Sean began to help him stash stuff into the room.

They didn't make eye contact, but they both understood how important this stuff was to keep safe. Once the last of the bags was brought to Sean, Mark went back to see what he could do about the door. Biting his lip in thought, he went to the front window to check the street. The street was trashed after last night, but strangely quiet. He didn't see or hear any of those creatures out there. He hoped that whatever had drew their attention away last night, had driven them away for a while. Moving to the backdoor, he did his best to avoid stepping on any crunching glass as he discreetly peeked into the backyard. He didn't see anything, and it unnerved him in the worst way. He wanted to go into the backyard to investigate how the Spitter got in... but opening the busted door would shift a lot of glass. That was noise he didn't want to risk. Cursing under his breath, he reluctantly left the door alone. He couldn't do anything to fix it. Taping the curtains, tacking a rug up, or moving the couch would all make far too much noise with all the glass around.

Instead, he got some string and tied it across the door at knee level with a small Christmas bell at one end. If they didn't hear the crunching glass, they would at least hear the bell. He made sure the bell was tapped to the wall to keep it from ringing with the wind. However, if something came in... It would yank it from the wall. At least in theory. It was the best he could do. Slipping back to the office room, Mark closed the door, informing Sean casually. "I knew that fucking door was going to be a problem... I rigged it, but I can't fix it. To make matters worse... It's quiet out there." Sean was going through the bags with a drained expression. Was he listening? Mark leaned closer, asking seriously. "Sean? Did you hear me? Something is up. It's too quiet out there." Sean shrugged carelessly; his voice flat when he uttered under his breath. "So, what..." Mark shoved the bag out of Sean's hands, grabbing his shoulders to shake him a little as he snapped back. "Sean, don't you dare zone out on me right now! I need you."

Sean leaned a little closer to look him dead in the eyes as he growled out. "You don't need me. You keep me around to keep yourself from going insane. You'd replace me for her in a heartbeat." Mark rolled his eyes, snapping back. "Damn it, Sean. You really want to do this now?" Sean shrugged with a sarcastic huff, stating out with fake humor. "Why the fuck not? When's a good time, Mark? All I have right now is time. Cowering in a hole like a damn animal... My every thought plagued with the idea that today could be my last... So, I think. What would I want to say or do before that final moment comes? What will I regret most in the end?" Mark slid his hands down Sean's arms to his elbows, his eyes unable to look away from Sean's distant blue eyes. Eyes so full of loss and pain. Mark didn't like where Sean's head was. Licking his dry lips, he told Sean very gently. "Sean, don't think like that..."

Sean sniffled, answering in a broken voice as a tear ran down his cheek. "Why? Because it makes you sad to see me like this? Tell me, Mark... How should I feel? I've lost my home. My family. I'm a million miles from anyone or anything that I know. All while being stuck with a man who I've loved since the moment I met him... But that's not all. No. You broke my heart bad enough, when you rejected me the way you did." Mark closed his eyes, feeling his tears run down his cheeks. He knew what was coming and he didn't have the strength to stop him. Sean's voice quivered harder as he grimly continued. "I understood why you left me in the theater. I do. I respected that. But you shut me out... After years of being my friend, you just left me out. When my depression took over and I felt like I was drowning, you couldn't even pick up the fucking phone! I spent months getting over you! You were supposed to be my friend! Then you see me a Pax and act like everything is fine between us because a fan brings me up? FUCK YOU!"

Mark let Sean pull away from him. He wanted to tell Sean that he hadn't meant to do that. That the time difference between them just became too much... but it wasn't true. It had never been the root of the issue. The issue was that he couldn't bring himself to admit that his own feels had scared him. He wasn't gay but being around Sean was bringing feelings out of him that confused him. He didn't want them. He had too much to lose. He wanted to believe that the Septiplier stuff was getting into his head. Was making him feel things that weren't real. So, he thought all he needed was time away from Sean. That those feelings would vanish. For a time, it had worked... but now everything felt so different. Mark stared at the mattress blankly, listening to Sean sniffle out from somewhere nearby. "I know you don't love me... But last night, I just... I just wanted you to love me, the way you love her. To feel for just one moment, like I wasn't trapped in this hell..."

Sean burst into tears, pulling his legs up to hug them as he muffled out in a heart broken voice. "But even now in this rotting pit of hell... I'm still the freak in your eyes... I hate you..." Mark took a jagged breath, his throat too tight to say anything. Mark sniffled very softly, exhaling heavily as he started to silently go through supplies. He repacked both his and Sean's bag in the deafening silence between them. He didn't know what to say to him. Nothing he would say would dull Sean's pain, nor would they truly explain his actions. He felt like he'd only make things worse. So, he kept his mouth shut. After he finished packing and adjusting Chica's survival bag on her, he picked up Sean's bag. Making his way slowly over to him, Mark set the bag down at Sean's feet and held out the tactical axe he had found. Sean looked at them from his huddled-up spot in the corner but didn't touch either of them. Mark cleared his throat, taking a knee.

Sean turned his head away to avoid his eyes, but he told him sincerely anyway. "Sean, I'm sorry. I haven't been a very good friend to you. Last night wasn't your fault... I could have stopped you and I didn't. I used you in a similar way and it wasn't right. Truth is that I'm scared. I don't know what I'm doing... but I can't do any of this without you. You've always been there for me. You're not a freak to me. You never were." Sean turned his head to look at the axe and Mark held it out to him more. Sean took ahold of the handle, telling Mark softly. "When you leave... Are you taking Chica with you?" Mark took a seat beside Sean, sweetly replying. "I'm not going if you're not coming with me. Like you said... She knows where she might find me. This will be fine for now." A tiny smile pulled at Sean's lips. Mark smiled back warmly. He wasn't going to leave Sean alone. He'd wouldn't be able to live with himself. If Amy was at Hawthorne. She was safe. However, Sean needed him here.

Mark adjusted to sit more comfortably against the padded wall, changing the subject to say lightly. "Here's what I'm thinking. If we stay, we've got to fix that backdoor. So... How would you do it?" Sean tapped the side of the axe against his sneaker, mumbling out in a hushed voice. "Well... We'd have to block it off with as little noise as possible... How about a shower curtain? Tap it up tight enough to keep things out. Maybe move a bookshelf from one of the rooms to lay behind it. Just in case." Mark nodded, trying to lighten the mood by joking playfully. "We'll have to go to the neighbors house for shower curtains... Don't think the glass doors of my shower will help." Sean tried to resist a smile, but in the end, he just let the smile show. Mark smiled in return, noticing only now how long it had been since he had seen him smile. Such a little thing made his heart flutter. When Sean noticed his expression, he asked him coolly. "What is it?" Mark opened his mouth to say something, when the ground trembled.

Both of them froze as Chica lifted her head to let out a soft whine. Mark slowly climbed to his feet as another soft tremor vibrated the ground. Mark listened intently, telling Sean anxiously. "Get your stuff. Something's coming." To Be Continued...