Superhero Secret - Septiplier

[2] "First" Aid

Jack had seen blood, but he's never seen it make a painting on his friend's face. Jack scrambled to the ground where his wounded friend lay, catching him under his arms.

"Oh Jesus Christ," Jack mumbled to himself, looking at Mark with wide eyes. "How even-what did you do to end up like this?" He searched Mark's face for an answer, but the only response he got was a black eye staring up at him. Jack hoisted the injured man up, heaving his arm up over his shoulder. Mark's arm instinctively went to Jack's waist, a tight grip grasping at his side. A small shiver ran up Jack's side, but he immediately disregarded it and continued to walk over to their bathroom. Jack gently set the wounded boy on the toilet. His hands flew to the cabinet, slapping pill bottles out of the way and reaching for the gauze and a few bandaids. Jack bent down to grab a washcloth from the cabinet below, wetting it down with lukewarm water. With shaky hands, he knelt in-front of Mark.

"Hey, Mark. Can you talk to me?" Giving a gentle tap to his cheek, Mark's eye, the healthy one at the least, fluttered back open.

"Y-yeah." Mark gave the boy a small smile, attempting at reassurance. He placed his hand on Jack's shoulder, helping him stable himself. Jack gave a smile back, beginning to softly press the wet cloth to Mark's face. A sigh released from Mark as Jack continued to press the cloth against him.

"And you were the one to say that 'you were fully capable of taking care of yourself.'"

"Well, you haven't seen what the other guy looks like." The guy I barely landed a hit on. " He's probably crying to his mom right now." He doesn't even have a mom, or anyone that I know of.

"You're still a dumbass," Jack removed the backing of a bandaid, gently putting it on a cut. "What are you doing, perfect engineering student," Another bandaid was placed next to the first one above his eyebrow. "Gettin' into fights?" Jack leaned back to see the work he had done, and patted Mark on the chest. "Want more bandages? Or I pull this gauze out for nothin'?"

"Um, well there kinda is a spot I need the gauze for..." Mark pointed to his left shoulder.

"I'll patch you right up, 'm just gonna need to...remove your shirt," Jack chuckled. "You think you can lift ya arms up?"

Mark weakly nodded, slowly raising his arms. He winced slightly, the strain on the cut shooting a strike of pain through his body. Jack was quick to notice, grabbing the hem and whipping it over Mark's head.

Surprisingly, Jack had never seen Mark shirtless, only when his back was to him. But now, he could see everything Mark had in store up close, and he was stocked. Like, Mark was ripped. No one was born with a body like this, and this would take months, maybe years, of training at a gym to get a six-pack like the one he had. Jack finally pulled himself from his thoughts, focusing on the more dire need.

He took the gauze, wrapping it around the cut with never-ending questions "That too tight?" or a comment, "Sorry, my hands are still a lil' shaky." He tore the end of it with his teeth, setting the roll back down. Taking one of the same bandaids he used to cover the cuts, he taped it down to make sure the gauze didn't unravel.

"Okay, you should be good." Jack stood up, admiring the 'work' he had finished.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" Mark suddenly questioned while pulling his shirt back over his head.

"Huh?" Jack was a little taken aback, not expecting to have to answer a question that interfered with his secret life.

"Most people don't immediately jump to grabbing gauze and whatnot, they just repeatedly ask if you're okay." Mark stated as he adjusted his shirt.

"Not sure. Just runs in my blood, ya know?" I'll punch myself for that bad pun later. "You need something, by any chance?"

"A hand," Mark replied, grinning at Jack. He reached out his palm and Jack gladly took it, pulling him up. Mark let go once he was steady, but instantly threw his arm over Jack's shoulder. "Thank you, so much. I would've bled out right there on the carpet if you were sleeping, or worse, not even here."

All Jack could do is put on a big, dopey grin as he looked at Mark.

"Let's get you to bed." Jack steadily walked Mark to their bunk, stopping in front.

"You need rest. Just sleep on the bottom, don't need ya fallin' off the ladder or puttin' too much force on your arm gettin' up there."

"Thanks, again. That's what the second time? Still. Couldn't thank you enough, Jackaboy." Mark ran his fingers through his hair, while the use of a new nickname took Jack by surprise.

"Jackaboy, huh? Well clearly, I'm gonna need one for you." He thought for a moment all while Mark looked at him curiously. "Markimoo." He finally finished.

"Interesting." Mark nodded, starting to climb into bed. "Night, Jackaboy."

Jack smirked, hopping up onto the top bunk.

"Goodnight, Markimoo." Of course, Jack wasn't going to fall asleep right away, unlike the man below him. The sheets reeked the smell of Mark, a nice, home-like smell. Jack snuggled down deeper into the blankets, and wondered if Mark was doing the same.