Who: Mark and Glibt What: The aftermath When: Saturday evening Where: Mark's brownstone Warnings: Talk of rape and blood.
He needed stitches-- rather badly if the blood seeping through his half-done bandages was any indication. He wasn't healing correctly and knew that he couldn't have been expected to do so, not so soon after Tuesday night. There was a constant stickiness underneath his midsection and Mark could see it spreading out, a vaguely rusty red on the blue sheets Glibt had replaced just yesterday evening. It was uncomfortable and relatively gross, but Mark didn't want to get up to do anything about it. Getting up meant accepting the pain and accepting the pain meant actually dealing with everything that had happened that week, starting with Tuesday evening.
Mark wouldn't sleep with his back towards Glibt, and maybe he would have noticed that. He was quieter and for once his Blackberry sat in another room without his even bothering to check it. He didn't want to do anything. The show had been of the air for an entire week and his writers hadn't heard from him. Mark knew that Mia was probably wringing her hands in her small studio apartment, desperately waiting to hear from him. Even considering his career he wasn't moving.
Being raped by your younger brother, Mark thought, warranted some time away from real life. Feeling the affects of what had happened at Fort Hood only added insult to injury. He dipped his fingers in the blood on the sheets and winced. The holes in his sides were throbbing and he didn't want to go to a hospital, because that meant going back into the real world.