Red Riding Hood

Chapter Six: "Sheep Suit"

Mark let the man fall limply into the snow, before walking toward the woman. The burly woman shoved Jack into the snow and rushed in to face off with him. Mark dodged her punches, then ran up the wall of the Pub a bit to launch off to gain the height that he needed to knock her out in one punch. Mark glanced around like he expected more, before turning his eyes on Jack. In that split second, Jack gasped softly. In the shadowed alley, Mark's eyes reflected the light oddly. Then he blinked and the strange reflection it had was gone. Jack tried to move, but the pain he was in left him lightheaded and sore. Mark moved closer, asking him in a calm voice. "Are you alright?" Jack shook his head. He felt like he was seeing things. How hard had the guy hit him? Mark's hand took his, helping him up to his feet. Jack staggered up onto his feet, only to feel the blood rush to his head and he fell as he passed out. Jack then awoke to the sound of a crackling fire and the smell of hot tea. He almost thought he was dreaming, until he felt a warm cloth touch his forehead. The surreal feeling made him open his eyes, causing him to jerk when he saw Mark. Mark grabbed his arm tightly to keep him from scooting away, prompting Jack to blurt out. "What are you doing?!"

Mark pointed to something behind Jack. Jack quickly peeked over his shoulder, realizing that he'd almost scooted into the fireplace. Releasing his arm, Mark told him casually as he moved away. "You passed out. I took you here to get your body temperature up and to see what condition you were in." Jack looked down at himself, noticing that his red cloak was missing. Gasping, he blurted out. "Where is my cloak?!" Mark shushed him but answered calmly. "It's over there. Drying." Jack relaxed, then looked around the small house. Swallowing, he asked him curiously. "Who's house is this?" Mark glanced around the little house, answering a bit grimly. "My parents. They're out right now. Just keep your voice down. I... I have sensitive ears and buildings like this house echo sound like crazy." Mark picked up a bowl of bloodstained water, taking it to the window to toss the bloody water outside. He then put the bowl in the wash bin and started to clean it. Slowly sitting up, Jack touched his face and winced. His cheek was bandaged up. Lowering his hand, he couldn't help asking curiously. "Why did you help me?" Mark huffed to himself, saying a bit sarcastically. "Did you not want my help?"

Jack crossed his legs, retorting back seriously. "That's not what I meant by it. You hate me. Why help me?" Mark stopped cleaning the bowl, saying stiffly without looking at him. "Who said that I hate you?" Jack gestured to him, mumbling out uneasily. "Come on. You've been giving me the shaft since yesterday... and this morning. You got some good jabs in at me. What did I ever do to you?" Mark set the bowl down, resting his hands on the counter as he leaned on them. He seemed lost in thought, before finally answering gruffly. "I didn't intend for it to come off that way." Jack raised an eyebrow, shrugging out. "How was I supposed to take it? You are so nice to everyone else. You avoid me and the one time you talk to me... You make me feel bad about everything." Mark looked in his direction, his eyes guarded when he told him seriously in return. "I didn't avoid you. You avoid everyone. And maybe the thought of you joining those assholes upsets me." Jack blinked, crossing his arms when he asked. "Why would that upset you?" Mark looked away from him, grumbling out. "Forget it. Forget I said anything." Staggering up onto his feet, Jack shrugged out. "No. Tell me. Why would me joining the Huntsmen upset you?"

Mark tapped his nails on the counter, his shoulders tensing before he reluctantly turned to blurt out at him. "You think your Granny would want you to join them? After everything you heard your father say about how she felt about HIM being apart of them?" Jack wanted to be surprised that he'd been eavesdropping, but in such a small town... everyone did it. Instead, he shrugged out at him. "Again, WHY do you care?" Mark moved up to stand before him, stating out defensively. "Because I liked your grandmother. She is nice to me. But you... you are naïve. And you're going to get yourself killed." Jack's jaw dropped, before he snapped out. "Bullshit!" Mark winced, like his tone hurt him, but he sternly shot back. "You know what the Huntsmen are? They are hired mercenaries! Murderers for hire! Men like Geralf kill anyone as long as they get paid for it. You really want that kind of blood on your hands?" Jack shook his head, uttering out defiantly. "They kill the unnatural." Mark straightened up to his full height, asking him boldly. "And who decides what is natural and unnatural in this world, Jack?" Jack opened his mouth to answer, but when he felt like his answer was wrong, he closed his mouth.

Mark kept his eyes on him, saying in a softer voice. "Exactly. You should be able to trust your own judgement. Not what others tell you." Jack stared him down, anxiously mumbling out. "The wolves are killing us. They came for me. I need the Huntsmen to get me through the woods to help me find her." Jack turned to leave, reaching out to take his cloak off the coat rack. Just as he got to the door, Mark asked him curiously. "What if there was another way to get through the woods? Would you take it?" Jack slowly turned to face Mark, giving him a little nod as his only response. Mark exhaled, shifting on his feet a little anxiously. Jack turned to face him, asking nervously now. "Do you know someone who knows a safe way through them?" Mark looked away a moment, before looking back into his eyes to say with a discreet reluctance. "I know a path through. I can guide you." Jack tensed a little, asking in a wispy voice. "How? No one has ever left the village and returned." Mark lifted his chin, telling him openly. "I have. I dug the hole that allowed them to get inside before." Jack took a step back but stopped in his tracks when Mark added without hesitation. "She is alive, but she's sick. I've been sneaking her supplies when I can... but I can't transport much without looking suspicious to the patrols."

Jack pointed at him, snapping back in a hushed tone. "You knew! You knew and you didn't tell ME?!" Mark grabbed the front of Jack's shirt, pushing him up against the wall before he replied defensively in a hushed tone of his own. "Why do you think I went to the bakery? I came to tell you... but the very idea of you joining them... Jack, you join them. And you can forget about my help. Do you understand?" Jack narrowed his eyes on Mark, asking much gentler now. "What do you have against them?" Mark released Jack, stepping back with sudden watery eyes when he told him a bit bitterly. "Go ask the man you call father." Jack stayed against the wall, asking perplexed. "My father? What does he have to do with you?" Mark avoided his eyes, answering under his breath. "I don't have a heart strong enough to tell you." Jack watched Mark turn away from him trying to hide the way he covered his eyes. Keeping his back to him, Mark told him in a broken voice. "If you want to go. We can try to leave tonight. I'll meet you at the bakery. If you aren't there, I'll know your answer." Jack hugged his red cloak to his chest, questioning Mark lightly. "Does this have to do with your adopted parents?"

Mark looked over his shoulder, exhaling out in a pained voice. "There are only three people that know that. One is the man you saw me with. One is your Granny..." Mark turned to face him, showing Jack his teary brown eyes when he finished off flatly. "And the other is your father." Jack hugged his cloak to his chest a bit tighter, asking very cautiously. "Mark...? Can't you just tell me?" He felt like he knew what Mark was trying to tell him, but his imagination always ran away with him. Mark stepped back up to him, replying in a deep discreet whisper. "My parents were hunted down a few days after your family moved back here." Mark yanked up his shirt to reveal a scar along his stomach, before he swallowed and told him with a soft inhuman growl that made his eyes turn into a wolfish yellow. "I was in my mother's arms when your father's bullet went through her and into ME." Jack gasped sharply and was about to scream, until Mark covered his mouth. His eye color faded from yellow to a light brown, before settling back to his dark brown ones. Keeping him pinned to the wall, Mark whispered to him gently. "Don't scream. If I had wanted to hurt you. I wouldn't have saved you from THEM." Jack stayed very still, trying to wrap his head around this.

Mark swallowed, then told him nicely. "I'm going to let go now. Ok?" Jack nodded just once. Mark very slowly relaxed his hand, inching it back from his mouth. Jack locked his jaw, trying to relax Mark by not making any sudden moves, or moving his mouth in a way that may seem like he was going to call for help. After Mark completely lowered his hand, Jack said a little breathlessly to try lightening up the tension between them. "Are you telling me that... A wolf stole my first kiss?" Mark scoffed, a gorgeous grin pulling at his lips when he shook his head in disbelief. Jack blushed though, causing Mark's grin to fade when asked suddenly surprised. "Wait. Really?" Jack blushed a deeper red, trying to hide his face behind his cloak. He didn't have to answer him though, because the front door opened. To Be Continued...