Bones (6/10)
title: Bones (6/10)
pairing: Mark/Eduardo
disclaimer: Based on the Social Network idea of Mark Eduardo, but in no way true. All from my own head.
A/N: I'm going away on Thursday, possibly for the whole summer, so I am aiming to get this whole story completed before then. Expect lots of updates in the next three days. I'm not too pleased with this chapter, but like I said, I'm rushing to get it finished.
PLEASE NOTE: Everything that I write about leukemia and chemotherapy comes from Wikipedia and copious Google searches, so it is no doubt entirely inaccurate.
Credits: Major, major love to slasher48 - I stole a quote from her comment on Part 5, so you can all enjoy her words as much as I do. It's asterixed.
Follow up to: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
_________________________________________________________________________________
Mark is breathing heavily, his arms wrapped around the toilet bowl, his head ducked as he throws up yet again, when Harriet comes in. Eduardo stops rubbing Mark’s back and turns to the nurse.
“That stuff you gave him earlier to stop him being sick?” Eduardo says. “It’s not working.”
Harriet smiles. “I think you’d be surprised what its doing. It could be a lot worse than this.”
Mark snorts derisively, and then heaves again.
“Okay, honey,” Harriet says, kneeling down next to Mark. “We’re going to get you back to bed, okay? I’ve got you a bowl just in case, but you’ll feel a bit better when you’re lying down and we need to get these tubes out of you. You’re done for the day.”
Mark raises his head. “I’m done?”
“For today,” she nods. “We’ll get you settled and then Dr Lewis is going to come and see how you’re doing. Have you had anything to eat or drink?”
“Some juice,” Eduardo replies for him when Mark doesn’t answer. He has his eyes closed and is breathing deeply, trying, Eduardo can now tell, to stop himself from throwing up. “Lots of water. And a yoghurt earlier, but, uh, I don’t think that stayed down long. He doesn't want to eat.”
She nods, stands back up and checks Mark’s chemotherapy machine. “Do you want to help him up?” She asks Eduardo, who nods and puts his hands on Mark’s shoulders, squeezing gently, massaging once. He feels thin, bony, like a baby sparrow, and it only adds to Eduardo’s worries.
“Come on, Mark,” he says softly, putting his hands under Mark’s arms. “Come on.”
He struggles, weak and exhausted, but eventually Mark stands up. Leaning heavily against Eduardo, he shuffles through to the main room and flops back down onto his bed. He takes the sick bowl from Harriet and places it next to him, his fingers curled around the edge. With his other hand he holds onto Eduardo’s wrist almost subconsciously. He closes his eyes as Harriet unhooks the tube from Mark’s catheter, then carefully swabs it down, cleaning, sterilising. Eduardo watches her hands; she hums softly as she works. She’s quick and professional and most importantly, gentle. Mark is breathing easier, calmer, by the time she has finished.
“There we go,” she says, beaming at the two of them. “That’s you sorted. It’s your rest day tomorrow, Mark, so no treatment, but I’ll be in to check on you in the morning, okay?”
“Yeah. Thank you,” he says.
“No problem. My shift is almost over now, but like I said, Dr Lewis is coming along soon, and Gillian is your nurse tonight.”
“Right,” Mark replies distantly. “Yeah. I remember her.”
“Great.” She picks up the chart that hangs on the end of Mark’s bed, makes a few notes and then smiles at the two of them. “Anything else I can sort for you while I’m still here?”
Mark shakes his head tiredly. Eduardo returns her smile and says, “We’re good, thank you.”
“Great,” she says again. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Eduardo watches her disappear out of the door, smiling to himself. She’s perfect, he thinks. The perfect nurse. Exactly what a place like this needs - someone to cheer people up. When he turns to Mark to say this, though, Mark is frowning.
“What?” Eduardo asks.
“Why don’t you just, like, go and marry her already,” Mark says, his voice still managing to be cutting through the weariness.
“What?”
“The nurse. Harriet. You were almost…I don’t know. You were staring.” He sounds bitter.
“No,” Eduardo says, confused. “I was…watching. She’s very good. Did you -“
“You were staring,” Mark interrupts hotly.
Eduardo frowns, until it dawns on him that something else could be going on here. “Mark, were you jea-"
“Mark Elliot Zuckerberg, how dare you not tell us that you were coming into hospital today?” Karen Zuckerberg’s voice bubbles with a furious energy as she flings the door to Mark’s room open, cutting Eduardo off. She sweeps to the side of Mark’s bed and envelops him in a tight hug. Eduardo watches as Mark, eyes wide with surprise at her entrance, winces when she presses against his catheter, but he doesn’t complain. He would if it was Eduardo doing it.
“Hey mom,” he says, almost sheepishly. “Hey dad.”
Mark’s father comes in after Karen, smiling warmly. “Mark, you have to tell us these things,” he says, going over and touching his son’s shoulder.
“We called your apartment earlier,” Karen explains. “No answer. And we thought, okay, maybe he’s gone out, but then we called your cell and again - no answer. We were worried sick. We tried the office but Dustin hasn’t seen you for days and then finally you thought it might be worthwhile getting in touch.”
“Sorry,” Mark mumbles, looking genuinely apologetic. “Wardo was here and I…er…yeah.”
At that, Mark’s parents seem to realise that there is someone else in the room. Three pairs of eyes turn to him, and Eduardo smiles awkwardly.
“Um,” he struggles to find something to say. “Hi.”
“Eduardo!” Karen exclaims, smiling broadly. She moves around the bed to him, holding him at arms length and looking him up and down before pulling him into a hug. “You look so thin, what have you been doing? It’s been too long since we’ve seen you. When Mark told us you were here -“
“Mom!” Mark interrupts, his cheeks flooding pink. “There’s really no need to explain that to him.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous Mark!” His dad laughs, going over to shake Eduardo’s hand. “He’s been so pleased to have you about again. You know, he has never quite been the same since you two -“
“Jesus, dad! Stop. Please.”
Mark’s parents laugh as though this is some kind of ongoing familial joke, but Eduardo stares at Mark, relishing the blush in his cheeks, the embarrassment in his eyes. He files it away alongside Mark’s apparent jealousy earlier, to be considered and obsessed over later.
“Look, I know you’ve only just got here, but Eduardo’s been here all afternoon and I’m kind of tired. Do you think you could take him downstairs for a drink while I try and get some sleep?” He says all this whilst carefully avoiding Eduardo’s eyes.
“Yes, yes,” Karen says, going back to her son’s bedside. “Of course. Edward, why don’t you and Eduardo go for a coffee and -“
“No, mom, I - I can’t sleep when there are people in here. Besides, Dr Lewis is coming and you know he usually kicks you out during examinations.”
He looks pale, almost grey, and Eduardo recognises that he feels ill again but doesn’t want to show it in front of his parents. Mark’s parents nod at one another.
“Okay. We’ll be back up soon, okay?” Karen says, going over to hug him again. Mark pulls a face as she wraps her arms around him, but doesn’t complain. He isn’t the hugging type, but maybe mom-hugs are different.
“And be honest with Dr Lewis,” his dad says. “Last time you were sick all day and when he came in you told him you were fine.”
Mark nods tiredly. He has clearly heard this argument before. He looks at Eduardo and smiles slightly.
“See you soon,” Eduardo says softly, reaching out and touching Mark’s hand, squeezing his fingers gently.
“Yeah,” Mark nods, smiling again. “Soon.”
***
Eduardo goes downstairs with Mark’s parents, feeling distinctly awkward and alone as they talk to one another about whether Mark looks any better or worse. Worse, they both decide, undisguised anguish in their voices. He looks worse.
In the hospital canteen, Eduardo sends Mark’s parents off to sit down and buys the three of them coffee. It comes in Styrofoam cups and smells so overwhelmingly strong that it makes him dizzy. He realises that he hasn't eaten, but he feels too sick. He grabs milk and sugar and carries the tray over to where Karen and Edward are sat in silence. He sits down opposite them and smiles awkwardly. When nobody says anything, he takes a sip from his cup, burns his tongue, and puts it down again.
“How do you think he looks?” Karen asks Eduardo suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think he looks worse than when you last saw him? He’s definitely lost more weight, hasn’t he?” She turns to her husband for confirmation, who nods in agreement.
“He looks exhausted,” Eduardo offers, and Karen nods vigorously.
“Yes. Did you know that he’s been working from home? I’ve tried stopping him, but…well, you know Mark. He’s incredibly…strong-willed.”
Eduardo smiles. “Yes. He really is.”
They fall into silence again, each thinking of their own memories of how strong-willed - stubborn, Eduardo would call it - Mark is.
“We’re so glad you’re here,” Edward finally says, and besides him Karen nods.
“Yes,” she agrees. “You can’t imagine how much it’s helping.”
Eduardo shakes his head sadly. “I don’t think I’m doing much good, actually. He won’t let me. I can’t do anything to really help.”
“But you’re there,” Karen explains. “You’re with him. That’s all he needs. He missed you. It destroyed him…”
“What. I mean. What?”
Mark’s parents look at one another, and then back to Eduardo. Something passes between them; some decision is made to explain.
“After…what happened. With the company -“ Edward frowns, unsure of how to say it. “Well, after what happened, when you had your fight, Mark was very sad, for a very long time. It would be hard to see if you didn’t really know Mark, but we saw.”
“What do you mean?” Eduardo asks. His heart feels five sizes too big for his chest all of a sudden. He forces himself to breathe evenly. “What happened?”
“Well, a couple of days after you found out about the…the redistribution of the shares, Mark came home,” Karen explains. “I thought it was odd; we hadn’t seen him in months and he never takes holidays, but it was Mark and Mark does what he wishes. So we left him to it. He stayed for four days, and for the most part he stayed in his room and didn’t really talk to anyone. We thought he must have been working on something, something big that he needed some privacy for, but we didn’t know.
The night before he went back to Palo Alto, he came downstairs. I was on my own - Edward was working late. He sat down next to me and he looked so…so broken. I didn’t know what to do. I had never seen him like that. And he explained to me about what had happened and what he had done and how you had reacted. My God, I was so furious with him. We didn’t raise him to act like that. I never thought he could betray someone, especially not someone who meant so much to him.” She takes a sip of coffee, grimaces, and continues. “And he kept saying things, like Facebook was his and he created it and if Leonardo da Vinci had done the same thing to protect the Mona Lisa, people would have understood. And then - Eduardo, I haven’t seen Mark cry since he was nine years old, but he was crying then. And he just said ‘I’ve lost him’. It broke my heart. And his too, I think.”
Astonished, Eduardo struggles to understand what he has just been told. He tries to imagine this Mark that Karen is explaining, but the cold, business-Mark that he knows so well pushes into the picture and blocks everything else out. He knows that he should say something, but he struggles to find any words suitable to express how he feels about what he has just been told. The idea that Mark actually cared about what he did to Eduardo is so out of line with what Eduardo has pictured these past few years that he cannot fully comprehend it.
“I had no idea,” he finally says, his voice as soft as a whisper.
“There’s always more than you realise with Mark. He keeps his cards very close to his chest. And he will never admit to his feelings. Never.”
That Eduardo does recognise. He nods slowly. He suddenly feels very tired.
“But the difference in him just what we saw in those few minutes upstairs compared to the last time he was in for treatment…it’s incredible,” Edward tells him.
“He hates it,” Eduardo says. “He feels useless.”
“You should have seen him last time. For the whole week of treatment he just lay there, feeling sorry for himself. But with you here-“
“It’s like he’s making an effort,” Karen explains, and Edward makes a noise of agreement. “It’s good for him. He needs something to remind him why he wants to get through this.”
“I really don’t think Mark sees me that way,” Eduardo says, his voice touched with sadness. He stares down at the table, tracing his finger through a line of spilt sugar, but looks up, surprised, when Edward stands up without a word and heads for the bathroom.
“Is he -“
“Ignore him,” Karen says. “He’s still getting used to the idea of Mark being, well, gay. He doesn’t mind, it’s just…well, we’ve had a lot to get used to.”
Eduardo's head reels and the chair that he is rocking back on slams into the ground as he leans towards Karen. That one single word is like a kick in the stomach and he thought he could no longer be shocked by anything that he discovered about Mark, but this…this is something else, and…why hasn’t Mark told him?
“What?” Eduardo manages to say, but Karen doesn’t explain. She reaches out a hand and places it over Eduardo’s on the table. When she speaks her voice is urgent, desperate.
“I know you care about him, Eduardo. I’ve seen it - for years I’ve seen it. In college you were so…I thought you were the perfect thing for Mark, the perfect person. You’ve always taken care of him, even when you got nothing back. Mark doesn’t think I’ve seen this, but he doesn’t know how deeply a parent understands their child, how they know them maybe even more than they know themselves.”
She takes a deep breath before continuing. Her eyes are glistening and Eduardo gets the impression that she has wanted to say this for a while.
*“Sweetheart, you do not have the time to deny to yourself how you feel. I know it’s instinct, but you cannot do it anymore. You have to understand how ill Mark is, and while today it may only exhaustion and vomiting, tomorrow it might be Mark unable to move, or speak, or open his eyes…or live. If you want something with him, you have to take the chance…while you still have a chance.”*
Stunned, Eduardo pulls his hand away from her and stares. Where is Mark in this woman, he thinks. She’s so open and honest and…emotional. His chest aches, or maybe it is his heart, and he feels dizzy and utterly exhausted. He thinks of the sofa up in Mark’s room and can already picture himself curling up there, head down, sleeping. It’s only early evening, but he feels as though he is worrying himself to death.
He looks up to find Karen still staring at him, a thousand questions in her eyes.
“I’m trying,” he tells her, but it sounds like an promise already broken because Eduardo doesn’t know if he actually possesses the ability to tell Mark how he really feels. If Mark didn’t feel that same way, it would ruin him. It would ruin them. He needs to be there for Mark. They’re friends again and for now, isn’t that enough?
***
When Mark’s dad comes back from the bathroom, they finish what Eduardo hesitates to actually refer to as coffee quietly and go back up to Mark’s room. The ward is quieter now that the day patients have gone home, and Mark’s doctor, Dr Lewis, has been and gone.
There’s nobody in the bed when they get back, so Eduardo goes through to the bathroom. Mark is lying on the floor by the toilet again, his head on his arms, asleep. Eduardo watches him for a moment, appreciating the soft rise and fall of his chest, the way his mouth is slightly open as he breathes. He is so alive. Karen’s words come back to him, how tomorrow it might be Mark unable to move, or speak, or open his eyes…or live, and he promises himself that he cannot ever let that happen. He can’t lose Mark, he simply cannot. He won't let it happen. He wouldn’t survive going through that a second time.
Karen and Edward come up behind him as he goes over to Mark. He kneels down and touches Mark gently on the shoulder, and then the back of his fingers to Mark’s cheek.
“Hey,” he whispers as Mark’s eyes flicker open. “Hey, come on.”
“Wardo?” Mark mumbles sleepily, trying but failing to sit.
“Yeah, it’s me. Come on.” Eduardo puts an arm around him and helps him sit, and then stand up. He holds him up, almost carrying him through to the bed. He pretends not to see the looks on Mark's parents’ faces: Edward concerned and accepting, Karen almost on the verge of tears.
“There you go,” he says as he helps Mark lay down. Mark curls onto his side, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath, falling straight back into sleep.
Mark’s parents take their place on either side of Mark, each in a seat pulled close to the bed. Eduardo goes to the sofa on the opposite side of the room and watches them, but mostly he watches Mark. This, he feels, is where he belongs: wherever Mark is. Nothing about their future is certain, apart from that.
Continued.
pairing: Mark/Eduardo
disclaimer: Based on the Social Network idea of Mark Eduardo, but in no way true. All from my own head.
A/N: I'm going away on Thursday, possibly for the whole summer, so I am aiming to get this whole story completed before then. Expect lots of updates in the next three days. I'm not too pleased with this chapter, but like I said, I'm rushing to get it finished.
PLEASE NOTE: Everything that I write about leukemia and chemotherapy comes from Wikipedia and copious Google searches, so it is no doubt entirely inaccurate.
Credits: Major, major love to slasher48 - I stole a quote from her comment on Part 5, so you can all enjoy her words as much as I do. It's asterixed.
Follow up to: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
_________________________________________________________________________________
Mark is breathing heavily, his arms wrapped around the toilet bowl, his head ducked as he throws up yet again, when Harriet comes in. Eduardo stops rubbing Mark’s back and turns to the nurse.
“That stuff you gave him earlier to stop him being sick?” Eduardo says. “It’s not working.”
Harriet smiles. “I think you’d be surprised what its doing. It could be a lot worse than this.”
Mark snorts derisively, and then heaves again.
“Okay, honey,” Harriet says, kneeling down next to Mark. “We’re going to get you back to bed, okay? I’ve got you a bowl just in case, but you’ll feel a bit better when you’re lying down and we need to get these tubes out of you. You’re done for the day.”
Mark raises his head. “I’m done?”
“For today,” she nods. “We’ll get you settled and then Dr Lewis is going to come and see how you’re doing. Have you had anything to eat or drink?”
“Some juice,” Eduardo replies for him when Mark doesn’t answer. He has his eyes closed and is breathing deeply, trying, Eduardo can now tell, to stop himself from throwing up. “Lots of water. And a yoghurt earlier, but, uh, I don’t think that stayed down long. He doesn't want to eat.”
She nods, stands back up and checks Mark’s chemotherapy machine. “Do you want to help him up?” She asks Eduardo, who nods and puts his hands on Mark’s shoulders, squeezing gently, massaging once. He feels thin, bony, like a baby sparrow, and it only adds to Eduardo’s worries.
“Come on, Mark,” he says softly, putting his hands under Mark’s arms. “Come on.”
He struggles, weak and exhausted, but eventually Mark stands up. Leaning heavily against Eduardo, he shuffles through to the main room and flops back down onto his bed. He takes the sick bowl from Harriet and places it next to him, his fingers curled around the edge. With his other hand he holds onto Eduardo’s wrist almost subconsciously. He closes his eyes as Harriet unhooks the tube from Mark’s catheter, then carefully swabs it down, cleaning, sterilising. Eduardo watches her hands; she hums softly as she works. She’s quick and professional and most importantly, gentle. Mark is breathing easier, calmer, by the time she has finished.
“There we go,” she says, beaming at the two of them. “That’s you sorted. It’s your rest day tomorrow, Mark, so no treatment, but I’ll be in to check on you in the morning, okay?”
“Yeah. Thank you,” he says.
“No problem. My shift is almost over now, but like I said, Dr Lewis is coming along soon, and Gillian is your nurse tonight.”
“Right,” Mark replies distantly. “Yeah. I remember her.”
“Great.” She picks up the chart that hangs on the end of Mark’s bed, makes a few notes and then smiles at the two of them. “Anything else I can sort for you while I’m still here?”
Mark shakes his head tiredly. Eduardo returns her smile and says, “We’re good, thank you.”
“Great,” she says again. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Eduardo watches her disappear out of the door, smiling to himself. She’s perfect, he thinks. The perfect nurse. Exactly what a place like this needs - someone to cheer people up. When he turns to Mark to say this, though, Mark is frowning.
“What?” Eduardo asks.
“Why don’t you just, like, go and marry her already,” Mark says, his voice still managing to be cutting through the weariness.
“What?”
“The nurse. Harriet. You were almost…I don’t know. You were staring.” He sounds bitter.
“No,” Eduardo says, confused. “I was…watching. She’s very good. Did you -“
“You were staring,” Mark interrupts hotly.
Eduardo frowns, until it dawns on him that something else could be going on here. “Mark, were you jea-"
“Mark Elliot Zuckerberg, how dare you not tell us that you were coming into hospital today?” Karen Zuckerberg’s voice bubbles with a furious energy as she flings the door to Mark’s room open, cutting Eduardo off. She sweeps to the side of Mark’s bed and envelops him in a tight hug. Eduardo watches as Mark, eyes wide with surprise at her entrance, winces when she presses against his catheter, but he doesn’t complain. He would if it was Eduardo doing it.
“Hey mom,” he says, almost sheepishly. “Hey dad.”
Mark’s father comes in after Karen, smiling warmly. “Mark, you have to tell us these things,” he says, going over and touching his son’s shoulder.
“We called your apartment earlier,” Karen explains. “No answer. And we thought, okay, maybe he’s gone out, but then we called your cell and again - no answer. We were worried sick. We tried the office but Dustin hasn’t seen you for days and then finally you thought it might be worthwhile getting in touch.”
“Sorry,” Mark mumbles, looking genuinely apologetic. “Wardo was here and I…er…yeah.”
At that, Mark’s parents seem to realise that there is someone else in the room. Three pairs of eyes turn to him, and Eduardo smiles awkwardly.
“Um,” he struggles to find something to say. “Hi.”
“Eduardo!” Karen exclaims, smiling broadly. She moves around the bed to him, holding him at arms length and looking him up and down before pulling him into a hug. “You look so thin, what have you been doing? It’s been too long since we’ve seen you. When Mark told us you were here -“
“Mom!” Mark interrupts, his cheeks flooding pink. “There’s really no need to explain that to him.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous Mark!” His dad laughs, going over to shake Eduardo’s hand. “He’s been so pleased to have you about again. You know, he has never quite been the same since you two -“
“Jesus, dad! Stop. Please.”
Mark’s parents laugh as though this is some kind of ongoing familial joke, but Eduardo stares at Mark, relishing the blush in his cheeks, the embarrassment in his eyes. He files it away alongside Mark’s apparent jealousy earlier, to be considered and obsessed over later.
“Look, I know you’ve only just got here, but Eduardo’s been here all afternoon and I’m kind of tired. Do you think you could take him downstairs for a drink while I try and get some sleep?” He says all this whilst carefully avoiding Eduardo’s eyes.
“Yes, yes,” Karen says, going back to her son’s bedside. “Of course. Edward, why don’t you and Eduardo go for a coffee and -“
“No, mom, I - I can’t sleep when there are people in here. Besides, Dr Lewis is coming and you know he usually kicks you out during examinations.”
He looks pale, almost grey, and Eduardo recognises that he feels ill again but doesn’t want to show it in front of his parents. Mark’s parents nod at one another.
“Okay. We’ll be back up soon, okay?” Karen says, going over to hug him again. Mark pulls a face as she wraps her arms around him, but doesn’t complain. He isn’t the hugging type, but maybe mom-hugs are different.
“And be honest with Dr Lewis,” his dad says. “Last time you were sick all day and when he came in you told him you were fine.”
Mark nods tiredly. He has clearly heard this argument before. He looks at Eduardo and smiles slightly.
“See you soon,” Eduardo says softly, reaching out and touching Mark’s hand, squeezing his fingers gently.
“Yeah,” Mark nods, smiling again. “Soon.”
***
Eduardo goes downstairs with Mark’s parents, feeling distinctly awkward and alone as they talk to one another about whether Mark looks any better or worse. Worse, they both decide, undisguised anguish in their voices. He looks worse.
In the hospital canteen, Eduardo sends Mark’s parents off to sit down and buys the three of them coffee. It comes in Styrofoam cups and smells so overwhelmingly strong that it makes him dizzy. He realises that he hasn't eaten, but he feels too sick. He grabs milk and sugar and carries the tray over to where Karen and Edward are sat in silence. He sits down opposite them and smiles awkwardly. When nobody says anything, he takes a sip from his cup, burns his tongue, and puts it down again.
“How do you think he looks?” Karen asks Eduardo suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think he looks worse than when you last saw him? He’s definitely lost more weight, hasn’t he?” She turns to her husband for confirmation, who nods in agreement.
“He looks exhausted,” Eduardo offers, and Karen nods vigorously.
“Yes. Did you know that he’s been working from home? I’ve tried stopping him, but…well, you know Mark. He’s incredibly…strong-willed.”
Eduardo smiles. “Yes. He really is.”
They fall into silence again, each thinking of their own memories of how strong-willed - stubborn, Eduardo would call it - Mark is.
“We’re so glad you’re here,” Edward finally says, and besides him Karen nods.
“Yes,” she agrees. “You can’t imagine how much it’s helping.”
Eduardo shakes his head sadly. “I don’t think I’m doing much good, actually. He won’t let me. I can’t do anything to really help.”
“But you’re there,” Karen explains. “You’re with him. That’s all he needs. He missed you. It destroyed him…”
“What. I mean. What?”
Mark’s parents look at one another, and then back to Eduardo. Something passes between them; some decision is made to explain.
“After…what happened. With the company -“ Edward frowns, unsure of how to say it. “Well, after what happened, when you had your fight, Mark was very sad, for a very long time. It would be hard to see if you didn’t really know Mark, but we saw.”
“What do you mean?” Eduardo asks. His heart feels five sizes too big for his chest all of a sudden. He forces himself to breathe evenly. “What happened?”
“Well, a couple of days after you found out about the…the redistribution of the shares, Mark came home,” Karen explains. “I thought it was odd; we hadn’t seen him in months and he never takes holidays, but it was Mark and Mark does what he wishes. So we left him to it. He stayed for four days, and for the most part he stayed in his room and didn’t really talk to anyone. We thought he must have been working on something, something big that he needed some privacy for, but we didn’t know.
The night before he went back to Palo Alto, he came downstairs. I was on my own - Edward was working late. He sat down next to me and he looked so…so broken. I didn’t know what to do. I had never seen him like that. And he explained to me about what had happened and what he had done and how you had reacted. My God, I was so furious with him. We didn’t raise him to act like that. I never thought he could betray someone, especially not someone who meant so much to him.” She takes a sip of coffee, grimaces, and continues. “And he kept saying things, like Facebook was his and he created it and if Leonardo da Vinci had done the same thing to protect the Mona Lisa, people would have understood. And then - Eduardo, I haven’t seen Mark cry since he was nine years old, but he was crying then. And he just said ‘I’ve lost him’. It broke my heart. And his too, I think.”
Astonished, Eduardo struggles to understand what he has just been told. He tries to imagine this Mark that Karen is explaining, but the cold, business-Mark that he knows so well pushes into the picture and blocks everything else out. He knows that he should say something, but he struggles to find any words suitable to express how he feels about what he has just been told. The idea that Mark actually cared about what he did to Eduardo is so out of line with what Eduardo has pictured these past few years that he cannot fully comprehend it.
“I had no idea,” he finally says, his voice as soft as a whisper.
“There’s always more than you realise with Mark. He keeps his cards very close to his chest. And he will never admit to his feelings. Never.”
That Eduardo does recognise. He nods slowly. He suddenly feels very tired.
“But the difference in him just what we saw in those few minutes upstairs compared to the last time he was in for treatment…it’s incredible,” Edward tells him.
“He hates it,” Eduardo says. “He feels useless.”
“You should have seen him last time. For the whole week of treatment he just lay there, feeling sorry for himself. But with you here-“
“It’s like he’s making an effort,” Karen explains, and Edward makes a noise of agreement. “It’s good for him. He needs something to remind him why he wants to get through this.”
“I really don’t think Mark sees me that way,” Eduardo says, his voice touched with sadness. He stares down at the table, tracing his finger through a line of spilt sugar, but looks up, surprised, when Edward stands up without a word and heads for the bathroom.
“Is he -“
“Ignore him,” Karen says. “He’s still getting used to the idea of Mark being, well, gay. He doesn’t mind, it’s just…well, we’ve had a lot to get used to.”
Eduardo's head reels and the chair that he is rocking back on slams into the ground as he leans towards Karen. That one single word is like a kick in the stomach and he thought he could no longer be shocked by anything that he discovered about Mark, but this…this is something else, and…why hasn’t Mark told him?
“What?” Eduardo manages to say, but Karen doesn’t explain. She reaches out a hand and places it over Eduardo’s on the table. When she speaks her voice is urgent, desperate.
“I know you care about him, Eduardo. I’ve seen it - for years I’ve seen it. In college you were so…I thought you were the perfect thing for Mark, the perfect person. You’ve always taken care of him, even when you got nothing back. Mark doesn’t think I’ve seen this, but he doesn’t know how deeply a parent understands their child, how they know them maybe even more than they know themselves.”
She takes a deep breath before continuing. Her eyes are glistening and Eduardo gets the impression that she has wanted to say this for a while.
*“Sweetheart, you do not have the time to deny to yourself how you feel. I know it’s instinct, but you cannot do it anymore. You have to understand how ill Mark is, and while today it may only exhaustion and vomiting, tomorrow it might be Mark unable to move, or speak, or open his eyes…or live. If you want something with him, you have to take the chance…while you still have a chance.”*
Stunned, Eduardo pulls his hand away from her and stares. Where is Mark in this woman, he thinks. She’s so open and honest and…emotional. His chest aches, or maybe it is his heart, and he feels dizzy and utterly exhausted. He thinks of the sofa up in Mark’s room and can already picture himself curling up there, head down, sleeping. It’s only early evening, but he feels as though he is worrying himself to death.
He looks up to find Karen still staring at him, a thousand questions in her eyes.
“I’m trying,” he tells her, but it sounds like an promise already broken because Eduardo doesn’t know if he actually possesses the ability to tell Mark how he really feels. If Mark didn’t feel that same way, it would ruin him. It would ruin them. He needs to be there for Mark. They’re friends again and for now, isn’t that enough?
***
When Mark’s dad comes back from the bathroom, they finish what Eduardo hesitates to actually refer to as coffee quietly and go back up to Mark’s room. The ward is quieter now that the day patients have gone home, and Mark’s doctor, Dr Lewis, has been and gone.
There’s nobody in the bed when they get back, so Eduardo goes through to the bathroom. Mark is lying on the floor by the toilet again, his head on his arms, asleep. Eduardo watches him for a moment, appreciating the soft rise and fall of his chest, the way his mouth is slightly open as he breathes. He is so alive. Karen’s words come back to him, how tomorrow it might be Mark unable to move, or speak, or open his eyes…or live, and he promises himself that he cannot ever let that happen. He can’t lose Mark, he simply cannot. He won't let it happen. He wouldn’t survive going through that a second time.
Karen and Edward come up behind him as he goes over to Mark. He kneels down and touches Mark gently on the shoulder, and then the back of his fingers to Mark’s cheek.
“Hey,” he whispers as Mark’s eyes flicker open. “Hey, come on.”
“Wardo?” Mark mumbles sleepily, trying but failing to sit.
“Yeah, it’s me. Come on.” Eduardo puts an arm around him and helps him sit, and then stand up. He holds him up, almost carrying him through to the bed. He pretends not to see the looks on Mark's parents’ faces: Edward concerned and accepting, Karen almost on the verge of tears.
“There you go,” he says as he helps Mark lay down. Mark curls onto his side, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath, falling straight back into sleep.
Mark’s parents take their place on either side of Mark, each in a seat pulled close to the bed. Eduardo goes to the sofa on the opposite side of the room and watches them, but mostly he watches Mark. This, he feels, is where he belongs: wherever Mark is. Nothing about their future is certain, apart from that.
Continued.