Septiplier Oneshots.

(139) Life And Death.

Request from the wonderful v-egaslights (Go and check out her one shots) I must admit this one took it out of me, I broke my own heart with this haha. This is some pretty heavy angst and deals with a lot of harsh subjects such as suicide and murder and although I do not go into major detail, please be wary. I apologies for such a heavy story but I haven't wrote angst in awhile and this is probably why.

Mark took his own life but Jacks was robbed from him, stolen - and Mark wishes he hadn't taken his life because he would have gotten to know Jack as a person and now Mark feels guilt, not for only myself but for him - How somehow, if he was living he could have stopped him with the blue eyes, from dying.

Mark was supposed to meet him before he died and death brought them here; Together but god does Mark wish he'd known him when living.

;

He woke up... dying or feeling so. Trying to rid the water of his lungs, the air is not as crisp feeling as normal; as if he doesn't have the lungs to breathe it in or maybe there isn't any air here at all, Jack thinks its the latter considering the last thing he remembers is a figure dunking his head into the salty bed of water and the feeling of almost suffocation, feeling the air drain and the earth get darker, thinking about everything he took for granted before, everything he had and didn't and then, nothing;

And now hes here somewhere in between heaven and hell. Perhaps the earth wasn't sure what to do with him yet, cannot decide if hes worthy of heaven or not. There's a blue mark across his wrist he doesn't remember being there ever and he wonders what it means, it won't come off either, maybe some sort of category -- The one he'd lay in would probably be

'MURDERED.'

;

Its quiet around the place, until its not and there's faint sobbing in the distance and Jack walks (floats, maybe.) around to where the sound is coming from.

Its coming from a man with raven colored hair, perhaps no older than he is, was - and the man looks up at him, hazel eyes clouded with tears and gasps slightly. Maybe because he wasn't expecting anyone else to be here, wherever here is. Jack notes the red colored stripe across the mans wrist and wonders what it stands for, what category of death he falls into.

Its silent still, besides the soft sobs and Jack doesn't know what to say -- doesn't know how to comfort someone in their death. God knows he isn't thrilled with his and this wasn't what he wanted it to be like, of course nobody wants to be murdered - nobody wants life stolen from them. He'd lost everything because of somebody else and hes angry, of course he is. Jack always thought he'd go from coffee overdose - not from being drowned.

Jack just sits next to him and listens to him sob, lets the man get everything out, hell knows hes got time too.

Here has to be some kind of purgatory, because he sees everything hes lost in his dreams (or nightmares.) and they're there, out of reach; Jack wants to yell out to them, tell him hes sorry -- tell them he loves them.

At least it isn't lonely; more damned souls coming through wherever they do, each with stripes across their wrists and the man with red stripe whom has stopped crying, is Mark. That's all Jack knows.

;

The next person he meets is a man with blonde colored hair and he has the same stripe Jack does and rather quietly he asks;

"You too?" The man glances at where Jacks eyes are staring; at the blue stripe and catches on and there's a pain that flashes across his irises and he nods silently.