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Mark couldn’t breathe. His throat was closed up. His eyes were watering. His legs were shaking. It was all he could do to leave that trial room and get on the elevator. The silence was deafening in there, Mark’s heart pounding in his ears as the elevator rose back up. As it came to a stop, everyone slowly poured out of it, in shock over what had transpired.
Mark felt like he had just had a brush with death. No, brush isn’t accurate, it's like they collabed on a track where it provided the drums and bass. One of their classmates, murdered by another. Mark would never get the sight of Wolfgang’s eyes out of his head, the look of terror and pain written across them from his forced bath with a lithium battery. Another, executed for her actions. Eva really didn’t have to do any of what she needed to do, she only went through with it because she thought she was alone and had no one else to turn to.
‘Oh my god, I’m alone.’ Mark's eyes went wide at that thought. If she felt that way he could end up like her, and end up dying like that. He felt a lump in his throat, slowly rising as his panic grew ever increasingly present. The thought of any relatability to HER right now was making him sick. He felt cold, shaky, like he was about to vomit. No, he was going to vomit. All his emotions swirling inside him needed to burst out and he hurried to his room before the lump in his throat exploded forth.
Mark burst into his dorm and went straight for the toilet, holding his head over it as he hurled. He was having a full blown panic attack now, he felt like he was suffocating under the weight of his situation. He felt his tears coming out of his eyes and could barely hear his own unrestrained sobs as he laid over the porcelain. HIs vision was spinning, tunneling into nothingness. He felt like he had already died. Had he? Was this hell? No, hell at least has the comfort of eternal constant pain, this waiting was far worse. He was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to- A knock on the door roused him from his spiraling state.
“Hey, Broskii? You… you doing okay in there?” Mark froze. That was Jett. For some reason Jett was outside the bathroom door. The guy had no personal boundaries but this was confusing even for him.
“...Nngh. W-why are you here? This isn’t your dorm.” Mark choked back his panic for a moment. Even if he didn’t really want to keep up appearances here, he felt like he should at least give him the decency of a reply.
“Um… it kinda… is…” Mark groaned. He had spent so many nights forced to sleep here that he went on autopilot and went to Jett’s damn dorm instead of his own. Mark didn’t know how to feel about that. Jett had heard him sobbing his guts out from sheer panic. The guy was as dense as a solid marble slab, but it was obvious what was happening considering he saw IT all too. Mark wiped his mouth as he got up from being hunched over the toilet and looked at himself in the mirror. All he saw was his latent terror in it. The feeling that he could be next. He looked to the door, preparing to bolt the moment the Jett started to try and talk to him.
But as he opened the door to run, he saw Jett with an open hand reaching towards the door. They made eye contact, blinking at each other before in a rush of motion, Jett embraced Mark tight.
“We’re gonna make it buddy. We’re gonna make it. You’ll make it.” Jett immediately started consoling Mark. It was upfront and direct. No beating around the bush. No trying to ease into it. No time to put up any walls to defend himself. And like that, Mark crumpled into Jett’s embrace, his tears starting again. In the warm hug of Jett, he broke down again. His legs buckled as Jett kept him held up.
“I-I-I can't do this… I can't, I can't, I can't…” Mark choked out between sobs. He trembled in Jett’s arms, his fears fully consuming him in the moment. Had he not already vomited earlier, he may have been an even bigger mess.
“I’m going to die… I’m going to die… I’m going to die…” Mark’s thoughts were verbalized against his will. His mouth moved but his brain was frozen, stuck in a spiral of fear. He couldn’t stop anything coming out of his mouth, he wasn’t even confident he wouldn’t throw up again all over Jett.
“Nyeh, no… no you aren’t gonna die, buddy. Don’t- don’t think like that.” Jett replied. Mark could hear Jett’s own trepidation, his own fear. He could hear the confusion and uncertainty tainting his words. Yet he still held him tight, still held him up. Jett did what he could to make sure that Mark wasn’t going to give up here and now.
“Just… breathe, Mark.” Hearing his own name, a reminder of his existence, of his life, seemed to calm him a bit. The fact someone else could say it and he could still hear it meant he was still alive. Death was all around, but he was still alive. He felt his legs gain back a bit of strength, Mark putting weight back on them. Jett stepped back a bit, opting to instead place an arm around his shoulder and leading him to the bed. They both sat down on the edge of the racecar bed. Jett kept his arm on Mark’s shoulder, and for once Mark was glad that the dragster had personal boundary issues. The warm touch of another person at least kept him grounded enough to catch his breath.
“Sorry I… threw up in your bathroom.” Mark sheepishly apologized. Now that he could at least articulate words that weren’t mantras of death, he realized that he wasn’t in his own room. He prayed that he hadn’t made an uncleanable mess. He tried to pull away a bit from Jett’s hand on him but found it was locked in place.
“All good Broskii. Happens.” Jett replied, absentmindedly. He was just as lost in thought as Mark was. Yet instead of Mark who seemed to be consumed by what he felt, Jett was disassociating more. But the hand slowly rubbing Mark’s shoulder told him that Jett was more worried about him than himself.
“...why though?” Mark asked.
“Huh? Why what?” Jett seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts. He looked at Mark with a tilted, confused look.
“Why do you care enough to… help me? You know I could end up kill-” Mark started, his eyes deep with concern, before being cut off.
“Nah, you’re not that kind of guy, dude. I just think… you aren’t good alone.” Jett admitted. Mark blinked back. He wasn’t following whatever track Jett was laying down.
“...hell's that supposed to mean?”
“Means you’re the kind of guy who needs another, just as cool, guy to help keep him from pressing full throttle in the worst way possible. To keep ya grounded.” Jett explained. Jett grabbed his shoulder and gave him a warming squeeze and shake. Mark could feel the concern and something else underneath it all. Something warmer.
“Mmph…” Mark looked down at his feet. Jett wasn’t wrong. On his own, Mark is a trauma spiral waiting to happen. He traps himself inside his own head, his own thoughts. He can barely pull himself out of them on his own when dealing with small scale things. A situation like this and he’d totally break. It felt… nice. Having someone care enough about him to the degree that they understood how to help him.
“Does that make sense? I dunno how this whole pep talk thing works. I'm usually just by myself.” Jett moved his arm to Mark’s back, doing slow circles. Mark unconsciously leaned into the touch.
“You? By yourself? That’s… hard to believe.” Mark replied. Jett always had such an up close and strong personality, the image of him being by himself is… an odd one.
“Yeah, because I-” Jett pauses, clearly thinking about his next words before continuing. Had he not been wearing a mask, Mark could probably guess what he was thinking, but that wasn’t the case. “...Am too busy vibing in my own lane.”
“Alright. I guess that makes some… weird kind of sense.” Mark wasn’t going to push it. He wasn’t that type of guy. He’d rather wait for Jett to come to him with something than to force it.
“Knew you’d get it! You’re smart.” Jett laughed and patted him on his back roughly. Mark tilted forward, almost slipping off the bed till Jett caught his hand and pulled him back up. It was so stupid, Mark smiled a little. Jett really made him feel better. Feel safer. A click on the loudspeaker brought that feeling to an end abruptly.
“It is now 8:00 PM. Nighttime has started, my amicable students. I hope you can sleep after today’s ‘excitement’. Or don’t! I’m not your parents. I’m not here to tuck you in.” Tozu’s voice played over the loudspeaker in the room with his usual theatrical tone. With a final click, the announcement ended. Mark felt sick hearing that voice. The sheer lack of empathy that radiated from it was foul. Mark was pretty damn confident that he’d always hate that man. He turned back to look at Jett, who met his eyes immediately. Mark looked away to his feet again, realizing that he wanted to feel safe still. And there was one way to get that tonight.
“Hey… Jett?” Mark asked, tentatively. He can’t believe he’s asking for this from Jett.
“What’s up, Broskii?” Jett replied, his hand still caressing Mark’s back.
“Is it good if I… sleep here, in the bed tonight?” Mark slowly brought his gaze back to Jett’s. Jett leaned back slightly in surprise, but immediately came back closer than ever, moving his hand from Mark’s back to his waist, pulling him in closer. Mark could only note that Jett was warm.
“Sure, man.” Jett replied. Mark can hear the kind smile on his face. “I can suck it in a bit if I need to.” He nodded his head towards his larger stomach.
“It’s not that small of a bed.” Mark noted with an exasperated tone.
“Yeah, but you move a lot when you’re out. I don’t wanna wake up to the sound of a drum being slapped.” Jett punctuated the statement with a hearty slap to his gut. Mark rolled his eyes at the joke, before pausing at a mild realization.
“Wait, you watched me sleep?” Mark looked with scrutiny at Jett, who quickly pulled back from Mark and rubbed the back off his head and laughed nervously.
“T-that's not important right now, dude, Rehehe! But, we can make it work. I think.” Jett quickly maneuvered over to the other half of the bed, so that Mark could sleep on it.
“... thanks.” Mark moved into position beside him with a sigh. Jett lifted the covers and let Mark in beside him. They weren’t touching but from body heat along Mark could feel Jett. It was a stark contrast to his own body, which felt cold.
“You are really… warm.” Mark noted, as Jett started getting more settled in
“Hell yeah, I am. I don’t have to worry about the AC being too cold and you won’t either.” Jett boasted. It was always something that felt random that Jett mentioned that threw Mark off.
“Is that ever an issue?” Mark questioned.
“You ever been to a cheap hotel with crappy AC controls?” Jett fired back. Guess Jett had spent time traveling, cause he was right.
“... fair point, I guess.”
“Well, Night, Broskii.” Jett reached up and turned off the light, plunging them both into darkness. All Mark could feel was the surprisingly comfortable bed, the blanket on him, and Jett’s body heat.
“...Jett, one more favor.” Mark didn’t feel comfortable to ask for this when he could see the guy he wanted it from.
“What’s up, dude?” Jett replied, his tone laced in concern. Mark could hear how he still had his helmet on.
“Could you… nevermind.” Mark backed down, realizing that the level of intimacy he was asking for with his request may be too much to ask for in one moment.
“Nah, ask away. You’re my bro, no way in hell I’d turn a bro down.” Jett pushed back. Mark should have known that just vocalizing the concept of a request was gonna get Jett’s interest.
“... could you hold me? Like how… you hugged me earlier?” Mark asked, quietly. His voice came out like a whisper. There was a pause, a moment of silence. Mark could hear his own heart beating in his throat as he began to question himself for why on earth he would ask for that.
But from the darkness, Jett’s voice came back. “...Sure thing.” Mark felt the shuffling in the bed, then felt a hand on his shoulder. He felt himself get pulled in, chest to chest to Jett. Mark could feel Jett’s breath on his ear from their position, and could feel the plastic that he had become so accustomed to feeling. It was that ultimate feeling of comfort, of safety, that made Mark finally relax a little. He felt content in this moment to sleep. He took his arms and wrapped them around Jett, hearing the dragster’s breath quicken under his touch.
“Good night, Jett.” Mark said as he closed his eyes.
“Good night, Mark.” Jett replied with a whisper, breath ghosting over Mark’s ears. They lay there, peacefully content in each other’s grasp, denying the harshness of the reality they are stuck in.