(((Hey guys, it's 2 am for me right now, but here's today's chapter anyway because I can't sleep :D )))

Mark's eyes slowly open, his vision blurred and his head ringing, a painful lump on the top of it. The first thing Mark see's is the British cop shaking him awake, and finally releasing a sigh when seeing the man's brown eyes open.

"Bout damn time... Thought you might've died..."

PJ mutters standing up from the bed and seeming to not care. Mark doesn't respond and sits up, finally realizing he was not only on the bed, but cuffed to it, with the same cuffs that had been used on Jack.

"Son of a bitch."

Mark mutters under his breath with a small smile as the Brit digs around the room, searching for the handcuff keys and not hearing Mark, nor seeing his smile. As PJ searches Mark reaches up with his free hand, feeling his head, and wincing as his fingers brush the lump on his scalp, a bit of blood being felt as well, though not enough to worry.

Mark looks over to the brown haired man again as he searches the doors of the bedside table, smiling triumphantly as he pulls out the handcuff's keys, but also a note, the note making his smile drop.

Once the Brit reads it Mark grabs it from him and stifles a smile as he reads the messy handwriting, easily identifiable as Jack's.

Nice try copper, you almost had me!

Mark could almost hear the Irish man's cocky laugh as he reads it. Soon enough Mark is uncuffed, the release from the metal cuff a small relief. Though his head still pounded, his vision occasionally going in and out of focus.

"Son of a bitch hits hard..."

Mark mutters under his breath, a small smile to his undertone, though PJ doesn't seem to notice, too distracted by his own stress.

"So what the hell happened?"

The British man finally asks turning to Mark once again, who rubbed his head gently. Mark sighs and shakes his head slightly, before responding, his voice strained as even talking was quite the task.

"Well he had to use the bathroom so I uncuffed him... and he hit me over the head... you know the rest."

Mark explains, not fully lying, but also not telling the whole story, stifling a grin as PJ growled.

"Dammit... Why didn't you just wait till I got back!"

PJ yells, Mark winces, his already pounding head made worse by the man's loud tone.

"First of all.... don't yell... my head hurts enough as it is..."

Mark begins calmly after a few seconds, his brown eyes shooting glares of annoyance at the brown haired man.

"Secondly, it's not like I knew he would knock me out."

Mark finishes, this time telling a blatant lie, he knew damn well Jack was capable of it, and let him do it. Though of course he regretted it slightly, the pain in his head making it hard to concentrate.

"Great... now because of you we need to stay here even longer..."

PJ growls softly, plopping down on his bed angrily. Mark looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

"What if he leaves here?"

Mark asks simply, he knew Jack would leave, and wanted to be sure PJ didn't catch up to him too quickly.

"He can't. I've sent his picture out, there is no way he's getting into an airport, or anywhere for that matter."

PJ smiles, genuinely proud of himself it seemed. Mark sucks in a silent breath, running a hand through his hair and wincing as he brushed the lump, as he thinks.

If Jack couldn't get out of the country, it would be easier for PJ to find him. He also wouldn't be able to get any food, unless of course he had help which was always possible, but what if he didn't. These thoughts worried Mark, Jack was typically a step ahead, but this time it seemed, he was behind, not expecting this whole ordeal to happen. This time Jack could be in real trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~Somewhere in Brighton~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Son of a bitch, what am I supposed to do now!?"

The Irish man snarls into a cellphone. He stood in some abandoned building, which seemed like it was once a small store, now simply stripped down to four walls and a ceiling. Though of course to Jack it was perfect, dark, a place no one seemed to go anymore.

"I don't know what to tell you Sean, he's spread your picture all around Brighton. We'll have to come up with a different plan."

A man says on the other end of the phone, his voice a deep monotone, and frankly not letting on how worried he most likely was about the situation.

"What other plans are there Cry.... I can't get out of Brighton, hell I can't even go to the shop without getting recognized now."

Jack complains quietly, pushing a hand through his faded green hair. Originally the plan was for Jack to escape and then take a plane to Ireland, Cry was to meet him there and help him get off the grid once again, but of course they hadn't thought about the bastard cop spreading his identity around. He was now a known criminal in Brighton among other places.

"Listen Sean... I might be able to get you out of there... but you won't be able to see Mark again.... maybe you should take him with you?"

Cry states simply after a few minutes, his monotone voice not once faltering. Jack sighs and shakes his head, forgetting for a second Cry couldn't see him through the phone.

"You know I can't do that... I don't want to drag him into this..."

Jack mutters softly into the phone, though considering the man's words. Cry huffs with annoyance.

"It's a little late for that...."

He growls softly, his monotone voice fading away for that second and almost sounding angry before it returns.

"Listen... it's either that or you never see him again... which is worse?"

Cry responds quietly, his voice almost sympathetic. Jack thinks on this, realizing he was right. Perhaps it was best to take Mark with him, the man was already involved enough as it is. Finally Jack sighs and nods, though he knew the man on the other end couldn't see it.

"How soon can you be in Brighton...."

Jack asks softly, almost hearing the smile in the man's voice when he responds.

"I'm already here... You know where to meet me."

~~~~~~~~~~Back at the Hotel~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"For the last damn time stop yelling at me..."

Mark growls for the tenth time, as PJ had continued to loudly scold him for letting the Irish man get away so easily, and it was beginning to enrage the red haired man. His aching head only managing to make him more easily annoyed.

"It wasn't my fault... I was kind of unconscious the whole time he escaped..."

Mark finishes with a sigh, laying back on the bed, and silently hoping the Brit would just drop the issue. His head banging, and frankly threatening to make him pass out once again.

"You could've waited till I got back Fischbach."

PJ growls, finally speaking quieter, making Mark at least a little less annoyed with the cop.

"When a man has to go he's gotta go... I wasn't going to be a douche...."

Mark retorts with a roll of his eyes.

"Besides, it'd be nice if you'd show a bit of sympathy for me... I was hit unconscious by a fucking hairdryer for gods sake..."

Mark finishes, his voice dripping with anger, not at the fact that Jack knocked him unconscious, he was fine with that strangely enough, but that the Brit blamed him for everything and showed no sympathy. PJ sighs and runs his fingers through his brown hair before simply grabbing his jacket and walking to the door, Mark watching him with an eyebrow raised.

"I'm going to go ask around... stay here.... I'll be back in an hour or so..."

PJ mutters simply before walking out, closing the door behind him. Mark releases a soft sigh, thankful for the silence that now encased the room. That is of course before his cellphone rings, making him jump slightly and shoot a glare at the device before picking it up and answering.

"Hello..."

Mark speaks into the phone, annoyance clear in his voice.

"Hey Marky... It's me."

A familiar Irish accent says softly, seeming hesitant to continue the call.

"Sean?"

Mark asks sitting up quickly and instantly regretting it as his head spun slightly, a small groan escaping him.

"Yah... how ya feeling?"

Jack asks softly, clearly trying to not say why he had called, trying to hold off his real intention for as long as possible.

"I've been better... you've got some strength for a little guy."

Mark chuckles softly, smiling when the Irish man laughs quietly on the other end.

"Listen Mark..."

Jack begins, the smile fading from his voice, as he seems hesitant to say what he was going to say.

"I need you to come with me this time... Or else I won't get to see you ever again... If you don't want to I understand, I just-"

Jack begins rambling only to be cut off as the red haired man speaks again.

"I'll do it."

Mark says softly, the other line going silent, Jack surprised at his quick response.

"Are... are you sure? You don't have to."

Jack states, not wanting to force the man into anything though he was happy at Mark's willingness.

"I'm sure Sean... I'll go wherever you go... what's the plan?"

Mark asks, smiling slightly at the thought of being with his love again, even if it were on the run, they would be together.

"I have a friend who's going to help us get out of here... I need you to meet me."

A few minutes later Jack had given Mark an address, and the red haired man was up. Leaving his phone behind, so it wasn't tracked, and walking out the door. His head spun as he walked, but he ignored it, it wasn't unbearable. He called a cab, as PJ had taken their only car, and gave them the address, soon pulling up to an old building.

Mark pays the cabbie and climbs out, watching the car drive off as he walks up to the old structure. The building seemed like it was once used as storage, a few empty boxes still littering the old space.

Mark walks in, his eyes darting around at every small creak before a voice sounds behind him making him smile slightly.

"Hey Marky, glad you made it."

The familiar Irish accent says.. Mark turns around and is met with those familiar ocean blue eyes, and heart melting smile.

"Hello Sean... So where's this friend?"

Mark asks softly, realizing Jack was alone. The green haired man shrugs and pushes a hand through his hair.

"I don't know, he should be meeting us he-"

Jack is cut off as he releases a soft grunt and falls to the ground, not unconscious, however unable to stand himself up again immediately. His eyes opening and closing as he tries to focus his vision.

Mark's eyes widen as he looks up, seeing a familiar white mask, holding a gun with the handle aimed outward, clearly what Jack had been hit in the head with, before turning it around and aiming the barrel at the red haired man, his finger pressed gently against the trigger.

"Cry?"

Mark questions softly, the man seeming to smile underneath his mask as he responds, his usually monotone voice, now filled with anger, though a strange happiness to it.

"Hello Mark... I think it's time we have a little talk..."