Chapter Text
The next morning, John called his parents again and arranged to meet them outside the hospital. The bassist took a shower, changed, dried his hair and then left Mark's apartment. He strolled to the underground and then went to the hospital. When he got outside, he could already see his parents standing in front of the entrance door.
"There you are, honey!" Sarah called excitedly and hugged her son. John smiled. "How are you? You don't look well." She said worriedly.
"I didn't sleep well today." John sighed.
"Here." Phillip said and handed his son a bouquet of flowers.
"What's this for, Dad?" John asked confused.
"For Mark, of course! When you visit someone in the hospital, you bring flowers!" Sarah called and rolled her eyes. John giggled. The three of them made their way to the elevator and then went to the fourth floor. Soon they entered room 403. Mark was still lying in his bed, just as he had the day before. Pillows had been stuffed behind his back so he could sit upright. A tray of breakfast was on his lap.
"There he is!" Phillip called out with a grin as they entered the room. Mark raised his head in confusion, only to see his in-laws along with his boyfriend. John smiled a little shyly, holding the bouquet of flowers in his hand.
"What is all this?" Mark croaked in a hoarse voice.
"We're visiting you, honey." Sarah giggled as she stood next to the bed.
"Damn, I didn't give birth or anything." Mark grinned weakly. His eyes were still cloudy with fever. The family laughed.
"I'm sure a baby from you two would be extremely adorable." Sarah grinned and sat down on a chair. John felt his cheeks flush. He put the flowers in a vase on the nightstand.
"How are you?" He asked gently, putting a hand on Mark's cheek.
"Still tired." Mark murmured. The bassist put a hand on his forehead.
"You still have a fever too." Mark groaned weakly when he felt John's cool hand on his skin. "Was there a nurse here this morning or something?"
"Mh." Mark grumbled and closed his eyes exhausted. "At 5 a.m. She was vacuuming here." The family started laughing.
"That's normal in the hospital." Phillip giggled. "When I was your age and had a motorcycle accident..."
"Not now, Phillip." Sarah said, stopping her husband's story. Mark giggled a little.
"What is that?" John asked, pointing to the tray on Mark's lap.
"That?" Mark asked weakly, also pointing to the tray. John nodded. "I think that's supposed to be my breakfast."
"Are you kidding?" John raised an eyebrow. A slice of bread, a slice of cheese and three pieces of cucumber. "You've already eaten the rest, haven't you?" Mark giggled and shook his head.
"I haven't touched anything yet."
"That's all they're giving you to eat!?" John shouted indignantly. "Damn it, can't they see that you're almost anorexic anyway!?"
"Calm down." Mark coughed and put a hand on John's forearm.
"No. That's absolutely unacceptable." The bassist continued to grumble. "I'll ask."
"No. Come on, John." The blonde moaned. "I don't eat breakfast anyway and you don't need to argue with someone about me again." John sighed and sat back on the chair.
"We can get something." Sarah said immediately.
"Are you sure?" John asked.
"Sure. We'll get something to eat and you two can have some privacy." She stood up and Phillip followed her out of the room. Shortly afterwards, the two were alone. Mark put the slice of cheese on the bread and took a bite. John smiled a little and stroked his head gently.
"What do you think?"
"What do I think about what?" Mark asked confused before taking another bite of the bread.
"What my parents said. What do you think our baby would look like?" Mark giggled.
"We're two men, John."
"So what? Sometimes it works between two soul mates, besides, I'm just asking you what you think it would look like." The bassist said, a little offended. Mark sighed.
"I have a fever and you're asking me what our baby would look like?" John shrugged. "Well..." The guitarist took another bite of his cheese bread. "It would have your curls...maybe they would be a little lighter than yours, but darker than my hair. A mix, you know?" John nodded.
"And it would have your beautiful eyes, darling." He kissed the younger man on the forehead. Mark giggled.
"And your pretty face. Your nose, for example."
"No, the face would be yours." Said the bassist.
"Are you kidding? I would feel sorry for the child." Grinned Mark. John started to laugh.
"Why?"
"Have you looked at my nose? Damn, I really hope the child wouldn't get it." John giggled a little.
"Okay, okay. So my nose. But your lips." He leaned forward and kissed him briefly.
"And it would definitely be as tall as you. Or a middle size between the two of us." Mark thought. Since the guitarist had finished his breakfast, John put the tray aside and handed him a glass of juice to drink. "Would you like a girl or a boy?" John asked as he pulled the pillows out from behind Mark's back and helped the younger man lie down.
"I couldn't care less." Mark sighed. John covered him up. "The main thing is that the child is healthy." John smiled. "But John?"
"Mh?" Hummed the bassist as he sat down again and held the guitarist's hand.
"I don't want children."
"Why not?" John asked, shocked. "You would be a wonderful father. And you're damn good with children. You even were a teacher!"
"Yes, but... they weren't my children, you know? And they weren't with me all day." Mark bit his lower lip. "And besides... besides, I'd be afraid of becoming my father."
"What do you mean?" John asked, confused.
"I... I'd be afraid of becoming like my father. And I don't want my child to have to go through what I had to go through." John fell silent before taking a deep breath.
"You're completely different from your father, you hear me?" He gently stroked Mark's cheek. "You are a loving and unique man. You would never do something like that in your life."
"What if I did?" Mark whispered, looking at him with teary eyes.
"No. You would never do something like that, Mark." John said firmly. "I know that. If only because you know what it feels like to be the weaker one in a fight. You would never become like your father." John kissed him on the lips. "I love you. Now rest, okay? You still have a fever."
"I love you too." Mark whispered, closing his eyes.
*
Half an hour later, Mark woke up again. He turned his head and saw John sitting next to him. The older man was reading a book.
"John?" He croaked. The bassist raised his head and smiled at him.
"Hey. You're awake again." John put his book aside.
"What are you reading?"
"Agatha Christie." Said the bassist.
"That's not really your style." The younger man giggled. John rolled his eyes. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"I don't think you should get up." John looked around and found a bottle that patients were supposed to pee in when they weren't allowed to get up.
"There's no way I'm peeing in that thing, Illsley!" Mark shouted angrily. Although he had a fever and was weak, he still had his pride.
"Then you're out of luck." The bassist shrugged.
"Damn it, just help me up." Mark twisted his legs out of bed and placed them on the floor before slowly standing up. John held his arm worriedly.
"You really shouldn't do this, Mark." The younger just grumbled and let John go after his dizziness passed. He slowly walked towards the bathroom and closed the door behind him. John rolled his eyes and sat back on his chair. This man was just too stubborn. It took a while before John could hear the toilet flush. Just then the door opened and John's parents, followed by a nurse, entered the room. Mark opened the bathroom door and all five people in the room stared at each other.
"Where were you?" The nurse asked angrily. She was in her mid-fifties and didn't look particularly nice.
"In a bloody pub. What does it look like?" Mark grumbled and walked towards his bed after closing the bathroom door.
"You are not allowed to leave the bed, Mr. Knopfler." John's parents were now standing behind their son and watching the whole thing with amusem*nt.
"What should I do if I have to go to the toilet?" The guitarist said angrily as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
"That's what bottles are for." She said, pointing to the bottle that John had put back.
"Pah! I still have to keep some pride!" Mark shouted angrily. The nurse and he stared at each other challengingly.
"As you can see, Mark is fine, so no need to worry!" Phillip shouted, trying to resolve the tense situation. The nurse rolled her eyes, took the tray with her and left the room. The family burst into laughter as soon as the door closed. Mark lay back in his bed. Sarah opened a fabric basket and took out groceries with a smile.
"There's enough breakfast for both of you." She said lovingly, stroking John's hair first before kissing Mark's forehead. "Now rest, Mark. You have a very high fever." Mark nodded silently. The two said goodbye again and went home. John took sandwiches out of the basket. He gave one to Mark and ate the other himself. The two sat in silence and ate their bread before the door opened again. It was the doctor from the previous day.
"Good morning, gentlemen." She greeted politely and went to the bed. She checked Mark's pulse and pupils. "How are you this morning, Mr. Knopfler?"
"A little sick." Mark said.
"It's from the fever." She nodded. "Unfortunately, I haven't been able to reach anyone in whole England who knew what might be wrong with your soul mark." She sighed as she began to unwrap the bandage around Mark's wrist. The skin was peeling off his arm and was swollen and red. "We'll leave the bandage off, but promise me not to scratch the wound. It looks like it's healing. Maybe your fever will go away then too." Mark nodded silently. "Mr. Illsley. I'm afraid visiting hours end in half an hour." The bassist nodded too. When the doctor had left, John kissed his boyfriend hungrily.
"Rest and get well, darling."
"I'm doing my best." Mark nodded and kissed him too. "sh*t, I need you. Now." John's eyes widened as Mark pulled him tightly to him.
"You have a fever. Besides, you're here because of sex. I'm not going to risk you getting any worse." He kissed Mark gently. "Rest. I'll be back tomorrow."
*
John turned uncomfortably in his bed. He couldn't sleep. The doctor had worried him. Not a single doctor in England knew what was wrong with his soul mate? sh*t, was Mark going to die? No, John didn't even want to think about that. He was sleeping very restlessly when he was suddenly woken up by the ringing of a telephone. He sat up in bed, gasping, and clutched his chest in shock. His heart was beating fast as he crawled out of bed and ran to his telephone.
"Illsley." He said. Damn, it was 5 a.m.
"Good morning, Mr. Illsley. Here is St. Mary's Hospital in London." John's eyes widened. "I'm calling because..." John heard a static over the phone before he heard an all too familiar voice:
"Come here right now, John!"
"Mark? What happened?" But the guitarist had already hung up the phone. John looked around his apartment in confusion. What the hell had happened?
