An Altered Perception
Chapter 9: Make You Smile
Author: riku_aura777
Pairing: (past) Mark/Tom
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Summary: A look at how When Your Heart Stops Beating really affected Mark and Tom's lives, and the regrets of their relationship.
Notes: The last two chapters might not be up as fast as the rest of this story because, well, I don't have them written yet. I've been sick the last few days, so my writing pace has slowed. But they will be up fairly soon :)
An album was starting to take shape, Mark realized. That was all he wanted, to write songs again. True, they were each about Tom in some way, but it wasn’t noticeable. Songs could be misleading. No one would immediately assume who they were about. They wouldn’t guess Tom, at least. Why would they?
Songs were forming before him, lines flowing out from somewhere in his mind. Emotions ranged, never leaving bitter, never leaving regret. It almost looked like a story more than an album. A story about him, more passionate and emotional than anything else he had ever written. Not even about Tom, but to him, though the message continued to elude him.
Mark felt… calm. No anger, no depression. Maybe that was real acceptance, not realizing that it had actually been achieved. However, nothing felt resolved, certainly not anything involving Tom. If everything had worked out, they would still be together.
He was still able to tap into the emotions. Anger-And you can just stop talking, I get it-and mourning-And every night our lonely planet slides across the universe. And I won’t pretend I understand-and hope he no longer believed in but once held-I saw the future in your eyes-could still be reflected in his songs, but he wasn’t feeling them.
It was turning into a story, a message to Tom. But would he listen? That was the major dilemma. Only his reactions and feelings were being recorded. Not that he knew how Tom was feeling at the time. However, he could guess, just to let him know he was at least thinking of his own errors. They both had done things wrong, he knew. Mark wanted to at least give Tom his own voice, even if it was a lie.
‘The last time I saw you, you turned away.’ After hours of shouting, that’s what Tom had done. He walked out and never looked back. But what was feeling when that happened, Mark wondered. Tom’s behavior was erratic, how could he guess? Cautiously, he wrote, ‘I couldn’t hear with your voice ringing in my ears.’
Tom probably wouldn’t have said it like that, but that didn’t take away from the honesty; he had walked out when the confrontation escalated, before Mark became too much to bear with.
Trying again, Mark wrote, ‘Do you remember where we used to sleep at night?’ Tom’s supposed reply came to him quickly. ‘I couldn’t feel you, you’re always so far away.’ That was probably the truest thing he had written about Tom. It made him remember the nights on their last tour when they wouldn’t sleep together, because Mark had felt awkward and distant and misunderstandings were a barrier. Or, when they did, they felt worlds apart. And Tom would hold on to him, afraid to let go. At that time, Mark didn’t pay much attention to it. But now, in retrospect, he realized that he had missed so much. However, he was finally beginning to understand, and he had to let Tom know, even if it was a year too late. He was thinking about him, and he was gaining something from it, even if it didn’t matter anymore. If nothing else, it would be his closure.
--
“You ever think about just running away?”
The thought gnawed at him occasionally over the years. Now it was ideal; then he wouldn’t have to take Tom back to Jen’s place.
“All the time.” That was something special about him. Tom didn’t ask for the little details, like why he was asking such a random question. He only answered.
“But, I mean, actually running away,” Mark reiterated. “Like moving out of California and starting over on the other side of the country.”
“That might be a problem,” Tom pointed out, leaning his head against the window. “We have girlfriends and actual fans now. Too many people know what we look like.”
Mark shrugged with a small grin. “Stop being so negative.” There was a short pause until he admitted. “I don’t want to drop you off yet.”
“I know. But you’re picking up Skye later, remember? You told me like an hour ago.” Tom grinned. “Don’t go senile on me, Mark.”
Without taking his eyes off the road, Mark reached over and swiped in Tom’s general area, missing his arm. “I won’t be late for it. And you only wish I was going senile, because then I’d forget to pick you up and then you could spend more time with Jen.”
The silence that filled the car was awkward, tense. Not what Mark had meant for it to be. Tom spoke up before he had the chance to explain himself. “Someone sounds jealous,” he commented, tacking on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It fell from his face with confusion. “Uh, Mark…?”
He had driven past Jen’s. Mark grinned mischievously. “Like I said, I’m not ready to drop you off yet.”
The next smile of Tom’s was genuine. “Maybe we really can run away,” he mused. “I mean, we can only run around naked for so long, you know? When that gets old, people will have no idea who the hell we are.”
“That’s true. Maybe even two dudes can even get married in the future. You never know, right?” Mark asked with a shrug, pulling onto a road that would ultimately lead back to Jen’s place.
“You’d actually want to marry me?” Tom questioned, continuing to smile, but disbelief was laced into his voice.
“People already say that we act like a married couple, so if we had the chance to make if official… sure, why not?” Mark smiled, meaning every word.
Tom said nothing for awhile, but Mark could tell that he was happy. “You’d have to break up with Jen for me.”
“I could do that,” he said quietly, grin slipping away when he pulled over.
But it returned when Tom took a chance and kissed him quickly. He watched him for a minute as Tom walked up the driveway. With a content sigh, he began driving to Skye’s. Mark knew he would see him tomorrow.
--
“I don’t, don’t wanna take you home. Please don’t, don’t make sleep alone. If I could, I’d only want to make you smile. If you would stay with me awhile.”
Peaceful and serene; her voice-he knew her name, but was too lazy to recall it-made Tom want to fall asleep. Hers and Mark’s voices meshed together perfectly. It was the only thing he could focus on. Mark could sing with someone that wasn’t him, in the back and forth way they had mastered.
But the chorus also captured his attention, with its pure intentions. It was a simple goal, to make someone smile. To make him smile, because Tom smiled easily. Except for now, after far too many drinks and listening to every feeling Mark possessed in regard to him. They crushed him, but they were everything he deserved, because he ruined both of their lives.
Maybe there was a reason such an innocent sounding song played after Weatherman and… and No, It Isn’t. It inflicted more pain that way; the happier, upbeat sounding songs had the tendency to have that effect, Tom knew. He knew because he often applied that.
And Mark, he had the same regrets. That hurt even more. Hopefully working on all this had been his coping device and he was finally moving on. Tom’s had been Angels and Airwaves and We Don’t Need to Whisper, minus the continuing on with his life. While he was, doubts and hesitations were still holding him back, and the solace he found in his pills was losing its desired effect. Instead of being his crutch, they were slowly crippling him. Only he wasn’t fully aware of it.
Mark would be fine, Tom reassured himself. He had the life he deserved. Wife, son, making powerful, beautiful music, hopefully void of regret and misery. Someday, when he was a little more objective, maybe Tom would be able to find the songs beautiful, and realize that this was Mark’s best work; the best thing he had heard in years. But Tom couldn’t think about the future. Right now, he was stuck in the present, unable to see anything else. Right now, the songs were tragic. They were suffocating. They hurt.