little BIG illlness
This was the first fic that I wrote for this fandom - and the first chapter-ed fic that I finished, ever. There is just something about TSN that not only makes me want to write, but finish it. Before TSN, I had the worst habit of starting fics and not finishing them.
Anyways! On the the fic! This was written for this prompt, here. After the lawsuit, Mark gets sick because without Eduardo around, no one is looking after him.
Edited by the wonderful Casey-SMS, who made me realize that sometimes I do nuts things with commas.
Mark is a work-a-holic in the worst way - up all night coding, not eating, not sleeping for hours on end, so it’s no surprise when he comes down with some sort of illness.
It starts out mild, just a minor cough, a sniffle, all easily ignorable, but of course lack of proper nutrition and sleep depravity tends destroy one’s immune system, so naturally it all snowballs fantastically. They all notice that something is off with their boss, their friend, but he’s a grown man, he runs a company, surely he can take care of himself?
Only Dustin and Chris know how untrue this is, but it’s never been their responsibility before. Eduardo was always the who looked after Mark. So even though Eduardo’s not there anymore, they find themselves thinking that someone else is looking after Mark, that he’s getting the attention he needs. Mark’s assistant does a fine job making sure he has lunch everyday, and that he goes home at night, and really, that’s all he needs, isn’t it?
So they ignore their friend’s worsening illness until finally, Mark’s assistant calls Chris and tells him that she needs him to take Mark home right now.
“Why?” he asks. “Did something happen?”
“He started hallucinating,” the secretary informs him grimly.
“Wait, what?”
“He started hallucinating. One minute he’s coding, and the next, he’s telling me that we really need to find better electricians, because the lights are changing color.”
“Jesus. I’m saving my work, I’m on my way over.”
“Please.”
It takes Chris all of two minutes to walk over to Mark’s desk. When he gets there, Natalie (is that Mark’s assistant’s name? He really should keep track of who works closely with Mark...) is pressing damp paper towels to Mark’s forehead, and reassuring him that they will, in fact, hire new electricians, but they will do just fine with out him, and it’s perfectly fine if he takes a few days off.
“Is he ok?” Chris asks.
Natalie puts down the towels and stands up. “His fever’s ridiculously high. Why did he come to work at all?”
Mark looks up at that. “Facebook comes first,” he says with shocking lucidity.
Chris just rolls his eyes. “Mark, do you really think you’ll get anything done when you’re hallucinating?”
“I am?”
“Yeah, you are. The lights aren’t changing color.”
“They aren’t?”
“No. You ready to come home?”
“I can still work!”
Natalie steps forward. “Honey, all you’re getting done by staying here is getting everyone else sick, and that’s not going to get accomplish much at all. Go home, get some rest.”
Surprisingly, that works, and Mark stands up, albeit shakily. Natalie has already packed everything he needs into his backpack, so Chris calls Dustin to let him know what’s going on.
Mark falls asleep almost as soon as he gets in the car. When they come to a stoplight, Chris reaches over and feels Mark’s forehead, and Natalie was right, he is warm, really warm. He’s not breathing right, either, and it’s then that Chris decides that Mark will be staying with him for the next few days, because clearly sending Mark back to his house alone would result in his death. Chris swings by Mark’s house, and while his boss sleeps, he grabs several days worth of clothing (mostly sleepwear), before driving straight home.
Mark awakens to someone shaking him.
“Wha-whaizzat?Whadyawant?” he slurs, not sure he wants to open his eyes yet and see just who felt the need to wake him up.
“Come on, get up. We’re at my place, and I can’t carry you, so you need to walk inside,” a voice behind him says.
“Dun wanna.”
“Staying in the car is not an option. Come on, you can sit down on the couch as soon as you get inside.”
Couch. Couches are much comfier then car seats. That’s motivation enough, and soon Mark is curled up on Chris’s couch.
“Oh, no. You can’t go back to sleep yet. I want to get your temperature, and get some drugs and food into you, and then you can go back to sleep. Come on, sit up.”
Grudgingly, Mark pulls himself into a sitting position. As soon as he’s up, Chris slips something cold under his arm.
“Wuzzat?”
“The thermometer. Now keep still, I need to get an accurate reading.”
Mark grumbles, but sits tight until the tiny device starts beeping, and Chris pulls it out. He glances at the reading, and sighs. “You should be in a hospital, you know that?”
“Why?”
“You’re running a fever of nearly a hundred and five degrees. If it goes any higher, I will take you in. And it will be leaked. And it will be just like Steve Jobs.”
“No.”
“Then you should have taken better care of yourself, shouldn’t you?”
Mark doesn’t reply, and Chris walks into the kitchen. He comes back a few minutes later with NyQuil tabs, water - and a bowl of soup. He gives Mark the pills and water first. Mark swallows them with out a fight, the threat of the hospital hanging over him. Chris gives him the soup next, and Mark manages maybe a quarter of the bowl before giving up. But even that is better then the nothing Mark has eaten all day.
Mark spends the rest of the day asleep. He sleeps through the two days after that as well, waking only for food, medicine, and to use the bathroom. By the third day, his fever has dropped to a more tolerable range, and he’s much more lucid, and spends more time awake. Mark insists that he’s better, and that he can start working again, just hand him his laptop, he’ll be fine. Chris disagrees, and the two are rather at odds with each other. Mark spends the day alternatively sleeping and pouting, and Chris spends it avoiding his friend-turned-boss. By three o’clock, Chris is sick of finding new places to hide every computer in the house. Then Dustin arrives.
He bursts through the door in a flurry of excitement, aggravating Chris further, and promptly goes to the TV and begins hooking Chris’s playstation up to the TV.
Chris glowers.
“Why are you here, of all places, Dustin?” He practically hisses it, fists clenched. Mark sits up from where he had been pouting on the couch, and looks on in interest.
“The new Little Big Planet game was just released. I brought it over here because I figured the two of you would be driving each other up the walls.”
“You just came over here because I have the playstation.”
“Yeah, that too. But it’s not work,” Dustin explains. “It’s a simple game, it won’t take too much energy. And it’s fun. It will give Mark something to do, so the two of you can stop snarling at each other.”
“Fine.” Chris says. “Hook up the system.”
Dustin whoops and goes back to plugging in the game, and Chris leaves to get caught up on the work he’s been missing looking after his childish boss.
When he comes back an hour later, the two are slumped on the couch, debating something heatedly (all Chris gets is that it involves the game levels). There’s normal human interaction going on, and both programmers seem happy, so he leaves them, and orders Chinese for dinner.
The Chinese arrives, and when Chris tells them to turn off the game and eat, Dustin gets up, but Mark is too involved in talking to someone through the game that he doesn’t get up. Chris doesn’t bother him, he can eat later, and besides, Chris is rather tired of his former roommate at this point - without Eduardo here, making sure Mark did the things that normal humans do with out thinking, Mark is rather hard to live with.
Surprisingly, just a few minutes after Chris and Dustin begin eating, Mark shuffles into the room.
“I thought you were still talking to the guy?” Dustin asks.
“I was, but he told me to go eat,” Mark shrugs.
“That’s weird,” Chris says.
“Really? It reminded me of Wardo.” Mark grabs an egg roll. “He said he had work to do, but he would be back online around ten tonight, and we could talk then. We’re developing a level...”
Chris would prefer that Mark actually sleep tonight, but he did sleep most of the day. It’s the first time Chris has seen Mark actually happy about something since the lawsuit, so he’s not going to say anything.
They finish dinner, Mark and Dustin telling Chris all about the game they’ve been playing for the last few hours. Chris tries to pull from Dustin what’s going been going on at the office the last few days, but Mark keeps sidetracking him with the video game. It should be clear right then, that something is up, by Mark’s disinterest in Facebook. But Chris is preoccupied, and doesn’t notice.
They clean up the kitchen, Dustin asking Chris when he thinks Mark will be able to come back to work - it’s currently Friday, so Chris says, Monday, definitely. Mark goes back into the living room, to wait for his friend to log back in, even though it’s eight, and whoever it is Mark has been talking to won’t be back on till ten.
He ends up falling asleep around nine-thirty, and Chris is about to turn off the TV when an icon pops up on the screen.
Dinheiro: Hello?
Dinheiro: Hello
The controller is resting on his coffee table, and he picks it up to reply to the player who has managed to make his friend laugh within just moments of meeting him.
Zuckonit: He’s asleep. This is his friend.
Zuckonit? Really? Is that really his username? He’s not trying to be subtle at all, is he?
Dinheiro: haha
Dinheiro: He reminds me of a friend I used to have.
Dinheiro: Except less of a dick.
Chris replies without thinking.
Zuckonit: IDK, Mark can be a dick at times.
Dinheiro:...
Dinheiro: Mark?
Zuckonit: Yeah..?
Dinheiro: Goddamnit. Chris?
Chris is confused. Who the hell is he talking to? He starts typing again, jamming the buttons, and Mark squirms on the couch behind him.
Zuckonit: How do you know who I am?
Dinheiro: I’m Eduardo.
Well, fuck. Mark had been talking to his ex-best friend, all afternoon. No wonder they got along so well.
Dinheiro: I’m still mad at him.
Zuckonit: You have every right to be.
Zuckonit: He misses you though. He’s not functional on his own.
Dinheiro: ...He never was.
Dinheiro: I’m coming to Palo Alto for the shareholder’s meeting. Unless that’s been canceled?
Zuckonit: So far as I know, it’s still on.
Zuckonit: Unless Mark decides, no, he’d rather not get better, he’d rather stay up all night, talking to you.
Dinheiro: In my defense: he’s asleep.
Zuckonit: True.
Chris hears a thump behind him, and turns around to see that Mark has rolled off the couch and woken himself up.
Zuckonit: Gotta go. Mark’s awake.
Dinheiro: I’ll log out.
Dinheiro: Keep me updated?
Zuckonit: Good idea.
Zuckonit:...
Zuckonit: Ok.
Mark is stirring behind Chris, so Chris starts to shut down the system, but not before one more message from Eduardo flashes across the screen.
Dinheiro: I still care about him, you know.
“Did Dinheiro log in?” Mark asks.
“Yeah, he did. I told him you’d gone to sleep, though, so he logged out.”
“Oh.”
“You can talk to him again later. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”
Mark just looks at him, and when Chris gives him a hand up, he realizes that Mark’s fever is up again. Not the terrifying high that it was the first day, but still, Mark is warm enough for Chris to be worried.
Friday slides into Saturday and Saturday fades into Sunday, and Mark’s fever will not stay down without the help of medicine, and has started to inch higher, even when each dose is taken on time. Mark spends the weekend sleeping, and not eating. Saturday he talks to Dinheiro, but by Sunday, Mark is just struggling to stay awake. Chris tries everything he can think of, but still, Mark’s temperature will not drop below 102.
It’s late Sunday afternoon, and nothing has worked. Mark is lying on the couch, shivering. Dustin is texting, but he keeps looking up, eyes flickering between Mark and his phone.
“Dustin.”
“Yeah?”
“We’re taking Mark to the hospital. Grab your keys and call Eduardo. I’m going to try to wake Mark up and get him ready to go.”
Dustin stands up, and within a few seconds, he has Eduardo on the line.
“Dustin? What happened?”
“Mark’s fever won’t go down. We’re taking him to the hospital.”
“Which hospital?”
“Stanford, I think.”
“Keep me updated. I’m on my way to my hotel, I’ll check in and drop off my stuff and then I’ll meet you there.”
“What?”
“Well, I had that shareholder’s meeting...”
“That. That. OH.” Dustin says. “Yeah, we’ll call you.” He hangs up, and grabs the keys to his car. When he returns to the living room, Mark is barely awake, and Chris is jamming his feet into sneakers. Between the two of them, they get Mark into the car. Chris sits in the backseat while Dustin drives and within minutes they are at Stanford hospital.
It’s a Sunday, so the emergency room is pretty empty, just the three of them, a woman and her six year old (the kid is running everywhere, and the mom looks pissed, because he’s apparently the one that’s sick), and a man who’s arm looks pretty broken. Mark looks pathetic (he’s barely conscious, slumped over Dustin) and Chris fills out his insurance forms quickly so they get processed before the others. It probably doesn't hurt that Chris made sure that Mark got some damn good insurance as soon as Facebook really started making money.
Mark has just been taken to an examination room when Eduardo calls
“Are you at Stanford?” he asks.
“Yeah. Mark just got taken to a room. Chris went with him. I’m trying to fill out the rest of his paperwork. I don’t know most of this stuff, do you?”
“I probably know some of it,” Eduardo acknowledges. “But I have his mom on speed-dial still, she can help.”
“Cool. How long will it take you to get here?”
“About five seconds.”
And then Eduardo walks through the door.
So it turns out Mark has mono, which while bad enough on it’s own, isn’t really the problem. The problem is that Mark’s utter failure in taking care of himself means that he’s got strep throat on top of mono, and that’s what’s been driving his temperature up. The doctor gives him penicillin to combat the strep, but there’s nothing they can do about the mono, so while his strep infection should be pretty much gone after a day or so, he’s still going to be out of commission for a minimum of one more week (and likely more, because Mark’s immune system is shot) because of the mono.
This is a problem, because Chris really needs to get back to work - especially because Mark is sick. As head of PR, it’s his job to cover this sort of thing, and he wasn’t lying when he was talking to Mark about Steve Jobs. Despite the fact that Mark’s illness is nowhere near as serious, rumors could spread and it could cause problems with the stocks.
The point is, Chris really can’t stay home with Mark any longer, and Dustin’s not responsible enough. In the state Mark’s in, he really shouldn’t be left alone - partly because he’s so sick, but also partly because he’s Mark, and he does a terrible job of looking after himself when he’s well. So they have a problem.
After they get Mark home, tucked into his own bed this time, the three sit down to discuss exactly who should stay with Mark.
“I can do it.” Eduardo says.
“What?” says Dustin.
“I can stay with Mark. I came down here for a meeting, but now that it seems that meeting will be cancelled...”
“Shit! The meeting!” Chris exclaims.
Dustin nearly falls over laughing. “Chris, you arranged the meeting! How could you forget about it?”
“I didn’t forget! I’ve been working on it all week...I just...”
“Forgot?”
“It’s kind of hard to remember when you’re driving your boss to the hospital!Speaking of which, what are we going to do with him?”
This time it’s Eduardo who laughs. “I already said I’d stay with him, Chris. I can miss the meeting, it really won’t make much of a difference, you can fill me in on the details later. It’s more important that I stay here and keep Mark breathing.”
“You sued his ass off! Don’t you hate him or something?” Dustin exclaims.
Eduardo looks at Dustin oddly. “What do you mean, I hate him? I’m pissed off, because he was a jackass, but keeping him alive kind of supersedes the fact that he is a complete asshole.”
“Eduardo, you are possibly the nicest person, ever. And we’re gonna ditch you now, so good luck with that!”
Chris grins. “Don’t kill each other! And keep me updated, yeah?”
“Tell me about the meeting when you get back!”
“We will!”
And then Chris and Dustin are gone, the door slamming shut behind them, and the house is empty except for Eduardo and the man who he sued.
Eduardo spends a few minutes just sitting on the couch, before realizing that he dropped his luggage off at the hotel room - that he will no longer be staying at. Well. That’s going to need to get fixed.
He goes upstairs, and Mark is still passed out from whatever it is they gave him at the hospital, so Eduardo leaves Mark a note (well, it’s more like several, in every place Eduardo thinks Mark might see) grabs the keys to his rental and leaves for the hotel.
Eduardo doesn’t bother checking out of the hotel - it’s already been paid for, anyways, but he grabs all of his luggage. He doubts that he’ll be back here anytime soon, and he hasn’t unpacked, so it’s easier.
On his way back to Mark’s place, he stops by Publix, partly to fill Mark’s prescription, and partly because even if Mark isn’t up to eating, Eduardo is, and there is nothing but ramen noodles and beer in Mark’s kitchen.
When he gets back, Mark is awake. And very, very confused. Not confused as in “I’ve spent the last few hours unconscious and I don’t know what has been going on confused,” but “I’ve spent the entire day delirious and now I’m coming off of heavy drugs” confused.
And that is a very, very interesting thing to see.
“Wardo!” Mark...whispers. “Wardo! You have such pretty hair! When did you get here? I haven’t seen you in...how long has it been, Wardo?” For someone with absolutely no voice, Mark is being extremely talkative.
“It’s been about three months, Mark. A little over three months.”
“Ok. Wardo. Wardo. My voice hurts.”
Eduardo actually laughs at that. “I’m not surprised. You’ve got strep. And mono. You ready to take your pills?”
Mark rolls over and presses his face into the pillow. Eduardo flips him back over. Mark tries to roll over again, but Eduardo holds him in place.
“Mark, this morning at six am I got on a plane that took me halfway across the country. And then I got on another plane and flew the rest of the way here. And then Dustin called me to tell me that he and Chris were driving you to a hospital. It is currently seven pm here, ten pm in Eastern time, which I am still on and I am exhausted. Please take the damn pills.”
Mark looks up at him, wide-eyed and shocked, but he takes the pills.
“Wonderful. Thank you. Now, do you plan on eating tonight?”
Mark shakes his head, no. His eyes are already sliding back shut, the hospital drugs still not completely worn off.
“Call me if you need anything.”
Mark nods, mostly asleep. Eduardo grabs the note he left earlier, sets down Mark’s pills and water, and goes to figure out how he’s going to survive the next few days.
Mark wakes up feeling fantastic. He springs out of bed, ready to fence, ready to program a whole new website.
Really. He does. Or at least, he would like to say he does. In actuality, he’s just miserable, and tries to go back to sleep, but there are cold hands on him and they want him awake.
“I know you’re awake, Mark.”
“No. Gway, Chris.”
“You’ve got the wrong person. Chris is at the office, running the meeting you were supposed to handle.”
Oh. Oh. That is a voice he recognizes. He hasn’t heard it in a long time, but still, it’s familiar. He blinks up at the person hovering over him.
“Wardo? When did you get here?”
“Yesterday afternoon, which I suspect you do not remember in the least.”
“I remember yesterday just fine.”
“Really? What happened?”
Mark really can’t remember. He goes back as far as he can, but all he can recall was that Dinheiro wasn’t online, and he says so.
“Dinheiro wasn’t online.”
“Wait. You mean to tell me that all you remember from yesterday is that your Playstation friend wasn’t online?”
“No,” Mark pouts. “I remember other things.”
“Like what,” Eduardo prompts.
But that’s all Mark remembers. The rest of the day is a hazy blur.
Eduardo sighs, and sits down on the bed next to Mark.
“Chris and Dustin took you to the emergency room yesterday. I have no clue what happened before that, but they called me when they decided to bring you in.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“I was already in town. I flew in for the shareholder’s meeting, which I am now not going to.”
“Why not?”
“Because someone has to stay here with you.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Chris tells me that you haven’t eaten anything in the past few days, and you really shouldn’t take antibiotics on a completely empty stomach, so what do you want to eat?”
Mark does not want to eat. He has knives in his throat, and they do not want company.
“Blue jell-o?” Mark says hopefully.
Eduardo nods, and goes to get it.
The rest of the day is unremarkable, and it’s amazing how even after what they did to each other, how easily they fall back into their old college routine. Dustin and Chris come over in that night, bringing Chris’s playstation and Dustin’s copy of Little Big Planet two. Dustin and Mark play for a couple of hours, but when Dinheiro fails to log in, Mark gets bored, and pissy, so Eduardo makes him go back to bed.
After Mark is asleep, Dustin and Eduardo play for a while, but then Chris makes Dustin drive him home, and it’s just Eduardo.
That’s how Mark finds him, early the next morning. It’s also how he discovers the identity of his “new” online friend: Eduardo is on the couch, controller in hand, and the TV is flashing “Dinheiro, are you there? Press any button. Press any button”
Actually, he’d have to be an idiot to have not figured it out. Mark just shakes his head and goes back to bed.
Several hours later, he is awakened by a loud bang, and a string of expletives, in both English and Portuguese.
“What did you do?,” he mumbles into his pillow.
“I ran into the wall,” Eduardo replies. “Hey, now that you’re awake, you willing to eat something other than jell-o?”
“Ice cream?”
“Nice try. How about something not loaded with sugar?”
“You’ll say no to anything I request.”
“That’s probably true. I’ll make you soup, ok?”
“Soup’s fine. Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been talking to you online for the past few days. How come you never told who you were?”
“I didn’t know who you were, at first. And then Chris accidentally told me, and then you were in the hospital, and then, I don’t know...it was just awkward.”
“Mm. I’m glad you’re back, you know.”
There is nothing Eduardo can say to that, so he just walks out.
It’s a little bit awkward, after that. There’s no fighting, but they can’t go right back to being best friends again either - and they’ve lost the easy camaraderie that they had when they first met, and when they were talking online and didn’t know who they were talking to.
The awkwardness is made a bit easier by the fact that Mark is clearly still sick, which aside from meaning that he sleeps...more then he would had he been healthy, and Dustin and Chris both come over whenever they can.
But still, there is an elephant in the room, and the two tiptoe around each other, in fear that every comment might set the other off. There is still the issue of the lawsuit to contend with, the dilution, and neither want to talk about that.
Of course, they aren’t the only ones who notice. It is a rather large elephant, and Chris and Dustin pick up on it rather quickly. Chris, naturally, doesn’t say anything, figuring that Mark and Eduardo will work it out on their own, but Dustin doesn’t have the same tact.
They’re all in the kitchen, waiting for Eduardo to finish making dinner, and Dustin is single-handedly carrying the conversation. Chris is going over paper work, so he joins in every few moments with a nod or a “mm-hmm”, and Mark’s throat still hurts too much to actually talk. But Eduardo doesn’t really have an excuse, and Dustin says so.
“I can see why Mark isn’t talking, not that he says much in the first place, and I can see why Chris isn’t talking, but you can talk while you cook, Eduardo. You have no excuse to be so quiet. Unless you’re just exhausted from having to look after Mark all day, which is hard enough on the best of us-”
Chris looks up from his paper work and glares at Dustin, who immediately changes lanes, but they all know where he was going, and it hovers over them the rest of the evening.
Mark’s former roommates end up leaving earlier then usual that evening, leaving Mark and Eduardo watching some silly scyfy channel program that Dustin had put on.
The elephant in the room has given birth to twins, and they sit directly in front of the TV.
Mark turns to Eduardo, clearing his throat, with a wince. “I’m sure I’ve asked you this before, but why are you here?”
Eduardo looks taken aback. “The shareholder’s meeting.”
“You never went. You stayed here. Why are you here?”
“Because someone needs to look after you.”
“So?”
“You can’t be left by yourself, Mark, not even on the best of days. Left to your own-”
“I know that. Why do you care?”
“Because I’m your friend!” Eduardo shouts at him.
Mark just sits there, playing with the strings on his hoodie.
“I thought you hated me.”
Eduardo deflates. “I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could ever hate you. I was pissed as fuck when I heard about the dilution, I’m still mad about that. But it’s in the past, and your health takes precedence over old grudges.”
They sit, staring at the TV for a while. It’s gone to commercial, but they each pretend to be fascinated. Eduardo gets up to leave, but Mark calls after him.
“Wait.”
Eduardo turns.
“I only wanted to get your attention. I’m sorry.”
Eduardo gives Mark a little half smile, before walking out of the room.
Mark falls asleep on the couch, curled under a blanket that has lived on the couch since he moved in. It’s not particularly comfortable, but it’s what he’s used to, so he sleeps deeply. He’s awakened late the next morning by Eduardo’s hands, cold and wonderful on his face.
“Good,” Eduardo says, once Mark has opened his eyes. “You need to take your pills, and I need to get your temperature.”
Mark just blinks at him.
“Good,” Eduardo says again, “Now lift up your arm - sit still, Mark.” Eduardo slides the thermometer under Mark’s arm, then presses it to Mark’s side. “Hold it there - Mark, sit still!!” Eduardo says again, because Mark is wiggling, trying to get up. He presses Mark down, his palm flat on Mark’s chest.
Finally, the thermometer beeps, and Eduardo takes it back.
“102,” Eduardo says. “Better. But not great.”
Mark could snap at him, say of course he’s still running a moderately high fever, that’s what mono does, but it’s not worth his time. He burrows back under the blankets. Eduardo leaves the room, comes back with Mark’s pills, presses them and a glass of water into Mark’s hand.
“Did you mean what you said last night,”
Mark just looks at him over the glass of water.
“About getting my attention. About being sorry,” Eduardo clarifies.
Mark swallows the pills, and nods.
“Mark...why did you do it?”
“Cut you out of the company?”
“You weren’t there. You were in New York. You didn’t listen to me and...”
“And Sean didn’t trust me, and he had the contacts, and you just wanted Facebook to succeed.”
“Yes. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do. We shouldn’t have done it at all.”
The elephant is still in the room. It’s smaller, now, but still there.
“I’m still pissed at you,” Eduardo says.
Mark opens his mouth to say something, but Eduardo keeps talking.
“I’m pissed, but I understand why you did it. I wasn’t a good fit for Facebook.”
“I’m sorry,” Mark whispers. “I’m sorry I cut you out.”
Eduardo laughs.
“Mark, it’s ok. I forgive you.”
“Does this mean you’ll stay?”
Eduardo laughs out loud.
“Mark, I can’t stay. I work in New York, now. I can’t just abandon all of my clients. But I’ll visit more. And I’ll come to the shareholders meetings.”
Mark is drowsy, already falling back asleep. “Wardo,” he says, “I’m glad you’re back.”
Eduardo just smiles, and runs his fingers through Mark’s curls.
“I’m glad, too,” he says.
Anyways! On the the fic! This was written for this prompt, here. After the lawsuit, Mark gets sick because without Eduardo around, no one is looking after him.
Edited by the wonderful Casey-SMS, who made me realize that sometimes I do nuts things with commas.
Mark is a work-a-holic in the worst way - up all night coding, not eating, not sleeping for hours on end, so it’s no surprise when he comes down with some sort of illness.
It starts out mild, just a minor cough, a sniffle, all easily ignorable, but of course lack of proper nutrition and sleep depravity tends destroy one’s immune system, so naturally it all snowballs fantastically. They all notice that something is off with their boss, their friend, but he’s a grown man, he runs a company, surely he can take care of himself?
Only Dustin and Chris know how untrue this is, but it’s never been their responsibility before. Eduardo was always the who looked after Mark. So even though Eduardo’s not there anymore, they find themselves thinking that someone else is looking after Mark, that he’s getting the attention he needs. Mark’s assistant does a fine job making sure he has lunch everyday, and that he goes home at night, and really, that’s all he needs, isn’t it?
So they ignore their friend’s worsening illness until finally, Mark’s assistant calls Chris and tells him that she needs him to take Mark home right now.
“Why?” he asks. “Did something happen?”
“He started hallucinating,” the secretary informs him grimly.
“Wait, what?”
“He started hallucinating. One minute he’s coding, and the next, he’s telling me that we really need to find better electricians, because the lights are changing color.”
“Jesus. I’m saving my work, I’m on my way over.”
“Please.”
It takes Chris all of two minutes to walk over to Mark’s desk. When he gets there, Natalie (is that Mark’s assistant’s name? He really should keep track of who works closely with Mark...) is pressing damp paper towels to Mark’s forehead, and reassuring him that they will, in fact, hire new electricians, but they will do just fine with out him, and it’s perfectly fine if he takes a few days off.
“Is he ok?” Chris asks.
Natalie puts down the towels and stands up. “His fever’s ridiculously high. Why did he come to work at all?”
Mark looks up at that. “Facebook comes first,” he says with shocking lucidity.
Chris just rolls his eyes. “Mark, do you really think you’ll get anything done when you’re hallucinating?”
“I am?”
“Yeah, you are. The lights aren’t changing color.”
“They aren’t?”
“No. You ready to come home?”
“I can still work!”
Natalie steps forward. “Honey, all you’re getting done by staying here is getting everyone else sick, and that’s not going to get accomplish much at all. Go home, get some rest.”
Surprisingly, that works, and Mark stands up, albeit shakily. Natalie has already packed everything he needs into his backpack, so Chris calls Dustin to let him know what’s going on.
Mark falls asleep almost as soon as he gets in the car. When they come to a stoplight, Chris reaches over and feels Mark’s forehead, and Natalie was right, he is warm, really warm. He’s not breathing right, either, and it’s then that Chris decides that Mark will be staying with him for the next few days, because clearly sending Mark back to his house alone would result in his death. Chris swings by Mark’s house, and while his boss sleeps, he grabs several days worth of clothing (mostly sleepwear), before driving straight home.
Mark awakens to someone shaking him.
“Wha-whaizzat?Whadyawant?” he slurs, not sure he wants to open his eyes yet and see just who felt the need to wake him up.
“Come on, get up. We’re at my place, and I can’t carry you, so you need to walk inside,” a voice behind him says.
“Dun wanna.”
“Staying in the car is not an option. Come on, you can sit down on the couch as soon as you get inside.”
Couch. Couches are much comfier then car seats. That’s motivation enough, and soon Mark is curled up on Chris’s couch.
“Oh, no. You can’t go back to sleep yet. I want to get your temperature, and get some drugs and food into you, and then you can go back to sleep. Come on, sit up.”
Grudgingly, Mark pulls himself into a sitting position. As soon as he’s up, Chris slips something cold under his arm.
“Wuzzat?”
“The thermometer. Now keep still, I need to get an accurate reading.”
Mark grumbles, but sits tight until the tiny device starts beeping, and Chris pulls it out. He glances at the reading, and sighs. “You should be in a hospital, you know that?”
“Why?”
“You’re running a fever of nearly a hundred and five degrees. If it goes any higher, I will take you in. And it will be leaked. And it will be just like Steve Jobs.”
“No.”
“Then you should have taken better care of yourself, shouldn’t you?”
Mark doesn’t reply, and Chris walks into the kitchen. He comes back a few minutes later with NyQuil tabs, water - and a bowl of soup. He gives Mark the pills and water first. Mark swallows them with out a fight, the threat of the hospital hanging over him. Chris gives him the soup next, and Mark manages maybe a quarter of the bowl before giving up. But even that is better then the nothing Mark has eaten all day.
Mark spends the rest of the day asleep. He sleeps through the two days after that as well, waking only for food, medicine, and to use the bathroom. By the third day, his fever has dropped to a more tolerable range, and he’s much more lucid, and spends more time awake. Mark insists that he’s better, and that he can start working again, just hand him his laptop, he’ll be fine. Chris disagrees, and the two are rather at odds with each other. Mark spends the day alternatively sleeping and pouting, and Chris spends it avoiding his friend-turned-boss. By three o’clock, Chris is sick of finding new places to hide every computer in the house. Then Dustin arrives.
He bursts through the door in a flurry of excitement, aggravating Chris further, and promptly goes to the TV and begins hooking Chris’s playstation up to the TV.
Chris glowers.
“Why are you here, of all places, Dustin?” He practically hisses it, fists clenched. Mark sits up from where he had been pouting on the couch, and looks on in interest.
“The new Little Big Planet game was just released. I brought it over here because I figured the two of you would be driving each other up the walls.”
“You just came over here because I have the playstation.”
“Yeah, that too. But it’s not work,” Dustin explains. “It’s a simple game, it won’t take too much energy. And it’s fun. It will give Mark something to do, so the two of you can stop snarling at each other.”
“Fine.” Chris says. “Hook up the system.”
Dustin whoops and goes back to plugging in the game, and Chris leaves to get caught up on the work he’s been missing looking after his childish boss.
When he comes back an hour later, the two are slumped on the couch, debating something heatedly (all Chris gets is that it involves the game levels). There’s normal human interaction going on, and both programmers seem happy, so he leaves them, and orders Chinese for dinner.
The Chinese arrives, and when Chris tells them to turn off the game and eat, Dustin gets up, but Mark is too involved in talking to someone through the game that he doesn’t get up. Chris doesn’t bother him, he can eat later, and besides, Chris is rather tired of his former roommate at this point - without Eduardo here, making sure Mark did the things that normal humans do with out thinking, Mark is rather hard to live with.
Surprisingly, just a few minutes after Chris and Dustin begin eating, Mark shuffles into the room.
“I thought you were still talking to the guy?” Dustin asks.
“I was, but he told me to go eat,” Mark shrugs.
“That’s weird,” Chris says.
“Really? It reminded me of Wardo.” Mark grabs an egg roll. “He said he had work to do, but he would be back online around ten tonight, and we could talk then. We’re developing a level...”
Chris would prefer that Mark actually sleep tonight, but he did sleep most of the day. It’s the first time Chris has seen Mark actually happy about something since the lawsuit, so he’s not going to say anything.
They finish dinner, Mark and Dustin telling Chris all about the game they’ve been playing for the last few hours. Chris tries to pull from Dustin what’s going been going on at the office the last few days, but Mark keeps sidetracking him with the video game. It should be clear right then, that something is up, by Mark’s disinterest in Facebook. But Chris is preoccupied, and doesn’t notice.
They clean up the kitchen, Dustin asking Chris when he thinks Mark will be able to come back to work - it’s currently Friday, so Chris says, Monday, definitely. Mark goes back into the living room, to wait for his friend to log back in, even though it’s eight, and whoever it is Mark has been talking to won’t be back on till ten.
He ends up falling asleep around nine-thirty, and Chris is about to turn off the TV when an icon pops up on the screen.
Dinheiro: Hello?
Dinheiro: Hello
The controller is resting on his coffee table, and he picks it up to reply to the player who has managed to make his friend laugh within just moments of meeting him.
Zuckonit: He’s asleep. This is his friend.
Zuckonit? Really? Is that really his username? He’s not trying to be subtle at all, is he?
Dinheiro: haha
Dinheiro: He reminds me of a friend I used to have.
Dinheiro: Except less of a dick.
Chris replies without thinking.
Zuckonit: IDK, Mark can be a dick at times.
Dinheiro:...
Dinheiro: Mark?
Zuckonit: Yeah..?
Dinheiro: Goddamnit. Chris?
Chris is confused. Who the hell is he talking to? He starts typing again, jamming the buttons, and Mark squirms on the couch behind him.
Zuckonit: How do you know who I am?
Dinheiro: I’m Eduardo.
Well, fuck. Mark had been talking to his ex-best friend, all afternoon. No wonder they got along so well.
Dinheiro: I’m still mad at him.
Zuckonit: You have every right to be.
Zuckonit: He misses you though. He’s not functional on his own.
Dinheiro: ...He never was.
Dinheiro: I’m coming to Palo Alto for the shareholder’s meeting. Unless that’s been canceled?
Zuckonit: So far as I know, it’s still on.
Zuckonit: Unless Mark decides, no, he’d rather not get better, he’d rather stay up all night, talking to you.
Dinheiro: In my defense: he’s asleep.
Zuckonit: True.
Chris hears a thump behind him, and turns around to see that Mark has rolled off the couch and woken himself up.
Zuckonit: Gotta go. Mark’s awake.
Dinheiro: I’ll log out.
Dinheiro: Keep me updated?
Zuckonit: Good idea.
Zuckonit:...
Zuckonit: Ok.
Mark is stirring behind Chris, so Chris starts to shut down the system, but not before one more message from Eduardo flashes across the screen.
Dinheiro: I still care about him, you know.
“Did Dinheiro log in?” Mark asks.
“Yeah, he did. I told him you’d gone to sleep, though, so he logged out.”
“Oh.”
“You can talk to him again later. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”
Mark just looks at him, and when Chris gives him a hand up, he realizes that Mark’s fever is up again. Not the terrifying high that it was the first day, but still, Mark is warm enough for Chris to be worried.
Friday slides into Saturday and Saturday fades into Sunday, and Mark’s fever will not stay down without the help of medicine, and has started to inch higher, even when each dose is taken on time. Mark spends the weekend sleeping, and not eating. Saturday he talks to Dinheiro, but by Sunday, Mark is just struggling to stay awake. Chris tries everything he can think of, but still, Mark’s temperature will not drop below 102.
It’s late Sunday afternoon, and nothing has worked. Mark is lying on the couch, shivering. Dustin is texting, but he keeps looking up, eyes flickering between Mark and his phone.
“Dustin.”
“Yeah?”
“We’re taking Mark to the hospital. Grab your keys and call Eduardo. I’m going to try to wake Mark up and get him ready to go.”
Dustin stands up, and within a few seconds, he has Eduardo on the line.
“Dustin? What happened?”
“Mark’s fever won’t go down. We’re taking him to the hospital.”
“Which hospital?”
“Stanford, I think.”
“Keep me updated. I’m on my way to my hotel, I’ll check in and drop off my stuff and then I’ll meet you there.”
“What?”
“Well, I had that shareholder’s meeting...”
“That. That. OH.” Dustin says. “Yeah, we’ll call you.” He hangs up, and grabs the keys to his car. When he returns to the living room, Mark is barely awake, and Chris is jamming his feet into sneakers. Between the two of them, they get Mark into the car. Chris sits in the backseat while Dustin drives and within minutes they are at Stanford hospital.
It’s a Sunday, so the emergency room is pretty empty, just the three of them, a woman and her six year old (the kid is running everywhere, and the mom looks pissed, because he’s apparently the one that’s sick), and a man who’s arm looks pretty broken. Mark looks pathetic (he’s barely conscious, slumped over Dustin) and Chris fills out his insurance forms quickly so they get processed before the others. It probably doesn't hurt that Chris made sure that Mark got some damn good insurance as soon as Facebook really started making money.
Mark has just been taken to an examination room when Eduardo calls
“Are you at Stanford?” he asks.
“Yeah. Mark just got taken to a room. Chris went with him. I’m trying to fill out the rest of his paperwork. I don’t know most of this stuff, do you?”
“I probably know some of it,” Eduardo acknowledges. “But I have his mom on speed-dial still, she can help.”
“Cool. How long will it take you to get here?”
“About five seconds.”
And then Eduardo walks through the door.
So it turns out Mark has mono, which while bad enough on it’s own, isn’t really the problem. The problem is that Mark’s utter failure in taking care of himself means that he’s got strep throat on top of mono, and that’s what’s been driving his temperature up. The doctor gives him penicillin to combat the strep, but there’s nothing they can do about the mono, so while his strep infection should be pretty much gone after a day or so, he’s still going to be out of commission for a minimum of one more week (and likely more, because Mark’s immune system is shot) because of the mono.
This is a problem, because Chris really needs to get back to work - especially because Mark is sick. As head of PR, it’s his job to cover this sort of thing, and he wasn’t lying when he was talking to Mark about Steve Jobs. Despite the fact that Mark’s illness is nowhere near as serious, rumors could spread and it could cause problems with the stocks.
The point is, Chris really can’t stay home with Mark any longer, and Dustin’s not responsible enough. In the state Mark’s in, he really shouldn’t be left alone - partly because he’s so sick, but also partly because he’s Mark, and he does a terrible job of looking after himself when he’s well. So they have a problem.
After they get Mark home, tucked into his own bed this time, the three sit down to discuss exactly who should stay with Mark.
“I can do it.” Eduardo says.
“What?” says Dustin.
“I can stay with Mark. I came down here for a meeting, but now that it seems that meeting will be cancelled...”
“Shit! The meeting!” Chris exclaims.
Dustin nearly falls over laughing. “Chris, you arranged the meeting! How could you forget about it?”
“I didn’t forget! I’ve been working on it all week...I just...”
“Forgot?”
“It’s kind of hard to remember when you’re driving your boss to the hospital!Speaking of which, what are we going to do with him?”
This time it’s Eduardo who laughs. “I already said I’d stay with him, Chris. I can miss the meeting, it really won’t make much of a difference, you can fill me in on the details later. It’s more important that I stay here and keep Mark breathing.”
“You sued his ass off! Don’t you hate him or something?” Dustin exclaims.
Eduardo looks at Dustin oddly. “What do you mean, I hate him? I’m pissed off, because he was a jackass, but keeping him alive kind of supersedes the fact that he is a complete asshole.”
“Eduardo, you are possibly the nicest person, ever. And we’re gonna ditch you now, so good luck with that!”
Chris grins. “Don’t kill each other! And keep me updated, yeah?”
“Tell me about the meeting when you get back!”
“We will!”
And then Chris and Dustin are gone, the door slamming shut behind them, and the house is empty except for Eduardo and the man who he sued.
Eduardo spends a few minutes just sitting on the couch, before realizing that he dropped his luggage off at the hotel room - that he will no longer be staying at. Well. That’s going to need to get fixed.
He goes upstairs, and Mark is still passed out from whatever it is they gave him at the hospital, so Eduardo leaves Mark a note (well, it’s more like several, in every place Eduardo thinks Mark might see) grabs the keys to his rental and leaves for the hotel.
Eduardo doesn’t bother checking out of the hotel - it’s already been paid for, anyways, but he grabs all of his luggage. He doubts that he’ll be back here anytime soon, and he hasn’t unpacked, so it’s easier.
On his way back to Mark’s place, he stops by Publix, partly to fill Mark’s prescription, and partly because even if Mark isn’t up to eating, Eduardo is, and there is nothing but ramen noodles and beer in Mark’s kitchen.
When he gets back, Mark is awake. And very, very confused. Not confused as in “I’ve spent the last few hours unconscious and I don’t know what has been going on confused,” but “I’ve spent the entire day delirious and now I’m coming off of heavy drugs” confused.
And that is a very, very interesting thing to see.
“Wardo!” Mark...whispers. “Wardo! You have such pretty hair! When did you get here? I haven’t seen you in...how long has it been, Wardo?” For someone with absolutely no voice, Mark is being extremely talkative.
“It’s been about three months, Mark. A little over three months.”
“Ok. Wardo. Wardo. My voice hurts.”
Eduardo actually laughs at that. “I’m not surprised. You’ve got strep. And mono. You ready to take your pills?”
Mark rolls over and presses his face into the pillow. Eduardo flips him back over. Mark tries to roll over again, but Eduardo holds him in place.
“Mark, this morning at six am I got on a plane that took me halfway across the country. And then I got on another plane and flew the rest of the way here. And then Dustin called me to tell me that he and Chris were driving you to a hospital. It is currently seven pm here, ten pm in Eastern time, which I am still on and I am exhausted. Please take the damn pills.”
Mark looks up at him, wide-eyed and shocked, but he takes the pills.
“Wonderful. Thank you. Now, do you plan on eating tonight?”
Mark shakes his head, no. His eyes are already sliding back shut, the hospital drugs still not completely worn off.
“Call me if you need anything.”
Mark nods, mostly asleep. Eduardo grabs the note he left earlier, sets down Mark’s pills and water, and goes to figure out how he’s going to survive the next few days.
Mark wakes up feeling fantastic. He springs out of bed, ready to fence, ready to program a whole new website.
Really. He does. Or at least, he would like to say he does. In actuality, he’s just miserable, and tries to go back to sleep, but there are cold hands on him and they want him awake.
“I know you’re awake, Mark.”
“No. Gway, Chris.”
“You’ve got the wrong person. Chris is at the office, running the meeting you were supposed to handle.”
Oh. Oh. That is a voice he recognizes. He hasn’t heard it in a long time, but still, it’s familiar. He blinks up at the person hovering over him.
“Wardo? When did you get here?”
“Yesterday afternoon, which I suspect you do not remember in the least.”
“I remember yesterday just fine.”
“Really? What happened?”
Mark really can’t remember. He goes back as far as he can, but all he can recall was that Dinheiro wasn’t online, and he says so.
“Dinheiro wasn’t online.”
“Wait. You mean to tell me that all you remember from yesterday is that your Playstation friend wasn’t online?”
“No,” Mark pouts. “I remember other things.”
“Like what,” Eduardo prompts.
But that’s all Mark remembers. The rest of the day is a hazy blur.
Eduardo sighs, and sits down on the bed next to Mark.
“Chris and Dustin took you to the emergency room yesterday. I have no clue what happened before that, but they called me when they decided to bring you in.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“I was already in town. I flew in for the shareholder’s meeting, which I am now not going to.”
“Why not?”
“Because someone has to stay here with you.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Chris tells me that you haven’t eaten anything in the past few days, and you really shouldn’t take antibiotics on a completely empty stomach, so what do you want to eat?”
Mark does not want to eat. He has knives in his throat, and they do not want company.
“Blue jell-o?” Mark says hopefully.
Eduardo nods, and goes to get it.
The rest of the day is unremarkable, and it’s amazing how even after what they did to each other, how easily they fall back into their old college routine. Dustin and Chris come over in that night, bringing Chris’s playstation and Dustin’s copy of Little Big Planet two. Dustin and Mark play for a couple of hours, but when Dinheiro fails to log in, Mark gets bored, and pissy, so Eduardo makes him go back to bed.
After Mark is asleep, Dustin and Eduardo play for a while, but then Chris makes Dustin drive him home, and it’s just Eduardo.
That’s how Mark finds him, early the next morning. It’s also how he discovers the identity of his “new” online friend: Eduardo is on the couch, controller in hand, and the TV is flashing “Dinheiro, are you there? Press any button. Press any button”
Actually, he’d have to be an idiot to have not figured it out. Mark just shakes his head and goes back to bed.
Several hours later, he is awakened by a loud bang, and a string of expletives, in both English and Portuguese.
“What did you do?,” he mumbles into his pillow.
“I ran into the wall,” Eduardo replies. “Hey, now that you’re awake, you willing to eat something other than jell-o?”
“Ice cream?”
“Nice try. How about something not loaded with sugar?”
“You’ll say no to anything I request.”
“That’s probably true. I’ll make you soup, ok?”
“Soup’s fine. Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been talking to you online for the past few days. How come you never told who you were?”
“I didn’t know who you were, at first. And then Chris accidentally told me, and then you were in the hospital, and then, I don’t know...it was just awkward.”
“Mm. I’m glad you’re back, you know.”
There is nothing Eduardo can say to that, so he just walks out.
It’s a little bit awkward, after that. There’s no fighting, but they can’t go right back to being best friends again either - and they’ve lost the easy camaraderie that they had when they first met, and when they were talking online and didn’t know who they were talking to.
The awkwardness is made a bit easier by the fact that Mark is clearly still sick, which aside from meaning that he sleeps...more then he would had he been healthy, and Dustin and Chris both come over whenever they can.
But still, there is an elephant in the room, and the two tiptoe around each other, in fear that every comment might set the other off. There is still the issue of the lawsuit to contend with, the dilution, and neither want to talk about that.
Of course, they aren’t the only ones who notice. It is a rather large elephant, and Chris and Dustin pick up on it rather quickly. Chris, naturally, doesn’t say anything, figuring that Mark and Eduardo will work it out on their own, but Dustin doesn’t have the same tact.
They’re all in the kitchen, waiting for Eduardo to finish making dinner, and Dustin is single-handedly carrying the conversation. Chris is going over paper work, so he joins in every few moments with a nod or a “mm-hmm”, and Mark’s throat still hurts too much to actually talk. But Eduardo doesn’t really have an excuse, and Dustin says so.
“I can see why Mark isn’t talking, not that he says much in the first place, and I can see why Chris isn’t talking, but you can talk while you cook, Eduardo. You have no excuse to be so quiet. Unless you’re just exhausted from having to look after Mark all day, which is hard enough on the best of us-”
Chris looks up from his paper work and glares at Dustin, who immediately changes lanes, but they all know where he was going, and it hovers over them the rest of the evening.
Mark’s former roommates end up leaving earlier then usual that evening, leaving Mark and Eduardo watching some silly scyfy channel program that Dustin had put on.
The elephant in the room has given birth to twins, and they sit directly in front of the TV.
Mark turns to Eduardo, clearing his throat, with a wince. “I’m sure I’ve asked you this before, but why are you here?”
Eduardo looks taken aback. “The shareholder’s meeting.”
“You never went. You stayed here. Why are you here?”
“Because someone needs to look after you.”
“So?”
“You can’t be left by yourself, Mark, not even on the best of days. Left to your own-”
“I know that. Why do you care?”
“Because I’m your friend!” Eduardo shouts at him.
Mark just sits there, playing with the strings on his hoodie.
“I thought you hated me.”
Eduardo deflates. “I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could ever hate you. I was pissed as fuck when I heard about the dilution, I’m still mad about that. But it’s in the past, and your health takes precedence over old grudges.”
They sit, staring at the TV for a while. It’s gone to commercial, but they each pretend to be fascinated. Eduardo gets up to leave, but Mark calls after him.
“Wait.”
Eduardo turns.
“I only wanted to get your attention. I’m sorry.”
Eduardo gives Mark a little half smile, before walking out of the room.
Mark falls asleep on the couch, curled under a blanket that has lived on the couch since he moved in. It’s not particularly comfortable, but it’s what he’s used to, so he sleeps deeply. He’s awakened late the next morning by Eduardo’s hands, cold and wonderful on his face.
“Good,” Eduardo says, once Mark has opened his eyes. “You need to take your pills, and I need to get your temperature.”
Mark just blinks at him.
“Good,” Eduardo says again, “Now lift up your arm - sit still, Mark.” Eduardo slides the thermometer under Mark’s arm, then presses it to Mark’s side. “Hold it there - Mark, sit still!!” Eduardo says again, because Mark is wiggling, trying to get up. He presses Mark down, his palm flat on Mark’s chest.
Finally, the thermometer beeps, and Eduardo takes it back.
“102,” Eduardo says. “Better. But not great.”
Mark could snap at him, say of course he’s still running a moderately high fever, that’s what mono does, but it’s not worth his time. He burrows back under the blankets. Eduardo leaves the room, comes back with Mark’s pills, presses them and a glass of water into Mark’s hand.
“Did you mean what you said last night,”
Mark just looks at him over the glass of water.
“About getting my attention. About being sorry,” Eduardo clarifies.
Mark swallows the pills, and nods.
“Mark...why did you do it?”
“Cut you out of the company?”
“You weren’t there. You were in New York. You didn’t listen to me and...”
“And Sean didn’t trust me, and he had the contacts, and you just wanted Facebook to succeed.”
“Yes. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do. We shouldn’t have done it at all.”
The elephant is still in the room. It’s smaller, now, but still there.
“I’m still pissed at you,” Eduardo says.
Mark opens his mouth to say something, but Eduardo keeps talking.
“I’m pissed, but I understand why you did it. I wasn’t a good fit for Facebook.”
“I’m sorry,” Mark whispers. “I’m sorry I cut you out.”
Eduardo laughs.
“Mark, it’s ok. I forgive you.”
“Does this mean you’ll stay?”
Eduardo laughs out loud.
“Mark, I can’t stay. I work in New York, now. I can’t just abandon all of my clients. But I’ll visit more. And I’ll come to the shareholders meetings.”
Mark is drowsy, already falling back asleep. “Wardo,” he says, “I’m glad you’re back.”
Eduardo just smiles, and runs his fingers through Mark’s curls.
“I’m glad, too,” he says.