Helly and Mark find a safe place to rest after they run back to their shared home together.
Set immediately after Cold Harbor (2×10)
Also available to read on AO3!
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They ran.
Even as they almost collided with the stark white walls whilst rounding the corners of corridors, they ran.
Even as pain shot up Helly's calves from the soles of her stocking covered feet hitting the hard floor, they ran.
Even as Mark's heart pounded harder than he had ever thought possible, his lungs gasping for oxygen and his vision beginning to blur, they ran.
Until his body crumpled.
He couldn't be sure what part of him gave up the ghost first, but once he fell to the floor, all of him seemed to surrender at once.
Helly narrowly avoided falling with him, letting go of his hand but still staying just as close, crouching next to him.
Mark let out a noise similar to a wounded animal, his body curling into itself.
"Fuck, okay-" Helly hissed, running a hand across her damp forehead, the other gently touching Mark's back as he heaved shallow breaths.
He wheezed what he hoped sounded like a legible apology, trying to focus on the comfort of her touch instead of the searing pain.
Helly surveyed their surroundings, unaware of where they'd ended up. She stood on shaky legs, Mark instantly mourning the loss of her. She ripped the lanyard off her neck when she saw the nearest door, scanning her key card and letting out an incredulous gasp when she was greeted with a green light and a sharp beep.
She swung the door open, rushing inside to find anything that could help.
The room was mostly empty, housing a couple of desks and office chairs under constant bright red lighting. She grabbed the short side of an abandoned desk, lifting and dragging it towards the door to keep it propped open as she returned to Mark, who was still laying outside helplessly.
"Come on," she pleaded, her voice quiet yet still desperate, "Just in here."
He knew he needed to do it - for himself and for her - but his entire body felt like it had given up: his head was heavy, his legs were screaming, his rib cage ached with every breath.
The couple of seconds of silence was enough to prompt Helly to try a different approach. She hurried around, stepping over him and rooting one foot on either side of his body. She bent down to place her hands around his middle, using all of her strength to try and move him.
Mark let out a loud whimper as she tried to lift him, gritting his teeth so tightly that he was surprised he didn't hear a crack.
Helly quickly muttered a string of apologies and swears but continued to manoeuvre him awkwardly yet quickly, all but pushing him inside just enough to clear the doorway.
As soon as they were both in the small space, Helly kicked the table away, letting it fall inside, the sharp bang hardly affecting them as the alarm continued to blare loudly.
Helly met Mark on the floor, gently brushing a few strands of hair out of his face, his eyes fluttering even as they were shut.
"I'm so sorry," Helly breathed, reaching down to hold one of his hands, thumb rubbing rhythmically against the skin, "I didn't want to hurt you."
He simply shook his head, refuting her apology, then rested it against the cool floor.
"Wait-" She pulled away, making Mark grunt in complaint.
He opened one eye to make sure she wasn't leaving, and was shocked to see both her hands grasp the bottom of her green sweater, pulling it off without hesitation and fashioning the thin material into a lopsided ball.
Mark felt breathless for a completely different reason as she leaned forward whilst her chest was only covered by a nude satin bra, cursing the fact that he was in no condition to trace his fingers along the soft skin.
Helly, completely unaware of his thoughts, brought her sweater next to his face, moving one hand between his cheek and the floor, lifting just enough to move the makeshift pillow beneath.
It was instantly so much more comfortable, Mark letting out an appreciative hum as the smell of her perfume wafted into his nose, all floral and light and distinctly Helly.
He wanted to give his thanks, but his brain didn't co-ordinate well enough with his mouth, and instead he let out an incoherent mumble, closing his eyes again in defeat.
"Oh, baby," Helly whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his damp temple, "What happened to you down there?"
Mark truly hoped it was a rhetorical question, because if he couldn't say one word, then there was no way in hell that he could explain the giant man and Lorne and Emile the goat and all of the fighting-
"I'm here," Helly said assertively, giving him another kiss, "I'm not leaving."
Mark settled at her words, despite everything.
"Okay, right-" Helly whispered to herself.
Mark opened the eye that wasn't pressed against the sweater when he heard her move, watching as Helly lifted herself up onto her knees and reached under her skirt. His mind flitted back to the last time she'd done that, when they were in their own tent in a room similar to this one.
A groan surfaced at the memory.
Helly let out a breathless laugh, "Easy, tiger," she commented with a teasing lilt, "that's not what I'm doing it for."
She pulled her pantyhose off harshly, then laid them out in front of her, folding them in half length ways so they became one long strip connected on one side.
Her hands picked them up as she regarded Mark again, "What part of you is bleeding the most?"
Mark didn't have the energy to explain that (most of) the blood wasn't his and instead just shook his head, wincing as a muscle pulled in his neck.
Helly's brow furrowed at the answer, her knees shifting closer to his chest, "I'm going to undress you, is that okay?"
Mark was powerless to do anything but agree, nodding with a light hum.
A gentle hand tugged at the bottom of his jacket sleeve, lifting the arm as slowly as she could and pulling the sleeve down, hearing some of the stitching rip at the awkward angle. Once his arm was out, she threw the sleeve over his back, deciding that she wasn't going to risk moving Mark to remove the jacket completely, especially considering how he seemed close to sleep, even with the alarm still sounding.
She focused on the front of him again, her nails trying to unpick the knot of his tie as her hands shook. She was unfamiliar with how the fabric was tied - did this version of Mark even know? - but soon enough the tie was off and thrown across the room. Next, she got to work on his shirt buttons, wincing when her fingertips touched the warm, sticky blood.
She never could've predicted that the first time she took off his shirt would look like this.
Helly prepared for the worst, expecting to find a huge cut somewhere on his chest due to the sheer amount of blood seeping through.
She was both relieved and perplexed when she pushed the shirt open.
A splayed hand skirted over the exposed skin of his upper body. There were bruises beginning to bloom in splotches, but no cuts at all.
Mark shivered at the feeling of her cold hand dragging across the expanse of his skin, his eyes snapping open to see her worried ones.
"Sorry," she murmured, her gaze still on his chest, one index finger brushing the smattering of dark hair.
"No," he corrected quickly, "it's nice."
A shy smile blossomed on Helly's face at the praise whilst she continued to rake her hand over his body, but it dropped when she brought her gaze to his face again.
"There's no blood." She said, the words posed as a question and a statement at the same time.
"I… think I killed someone." His voice was quiet, cracking on the last word. He closed his eyes, almost afraid to see her reaction.
Her response was simply to cup his face as she kissed his damp forehead, the iron-tinged smell of blood hitting her nostrils.
Mark let out a sigh of relief so large that it made the pain in his ribcage flare once more.
Helly balled up the flesh coloured fabric and began to swipe it across his forehead as she cleaned him. Some of the blood came away on the light material but the dried parts stubbornly stayed. She brought the pantyhose to her mouth to wet a small spot then tried again, pressing a little harder.
Mark winced, sucking in air between his teeth.
"Sorry," she repeated in a soothing tone, "Can I keep going?"
He nodded, trusting her implicitly with this, as he did with everything else.
They both lost track of time as Helly continued to clean him as they stayed in relative silence, the only sounds between them being their laboured breaths and the siren. Mark soon began to find the wiping motions almost soothing as they traversed across his face then down his neck and along his upper body.
"You should sleep."
Mark opened his eyes to find Helly setting her makeshift rag to the side, evidently finished with her work.
He grumbled in protest, turning to look at her fully, "What if you're gone? When I wake up?"
She gave a soft smile, brushing a hand through his hair, "I won't be, I promise."
She crawled around him, his head lifting to watch where she was going despite the conviction in her words.
Helly slotted herself between him and the door to create a barrier, curling up and pressing her chest against his back. She wrapped an arm around his midsection, then tore it away when she felt his body jolt at the sensation.
Mark quickly grabbed her wrist, placing his arm on top of hers and interlacing their fingers like she had done earlier whilst he finished the final set of numbers. He brought both of their arms to rest on his body, even as it made the pain bloom anew.
Helly kissed the back of his neck in response, not caring that it was covered in sweat. Her free hand came up to trace shapes onto his back: first a long, slow circle, then a more angular rectangle, the longer lines going all the way down to his hips, then a spiral that swirled inward.
He was certain that the last one he felt was a heart, a smile tugging at his mouth as he succumbed to sleep.
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only took me a whole month longer than planned but i wrote a fic for every day of MarkHelly week yippee!
thank you for sticking around if you read them all! i truly appreciate it <3
