That started Mark sobbing all over again. "Fucking hell," he choked out, planting his hands over his face again. Sam always knew how to get through to him, how to mine into what he needed to hear the most. And although he did cushion the blow while working up to delivering it, he didn't with the actual point. It was the hardest thing for Mark to hear out loud but he had to hear it. It didn't matter if he knew the essence of the point, to hear it coming from someone else and not the murky depths of his guilt-ridden conscience hit it home sharply, like a blow to the gut winding him. He didn't try to fight it back this time either. He just let it come. At some point, Sam resumed the hug and Mark had no idea how long he sat bawling into his brother's shoulder but by the time he got through the snotfest, he had a pounding headache and his face felt swollen and hot. He dragged a handful of tissues from the box to wipe his eyes and nose, clearing his throat. "Gen called me out on my shit. Some days, it feels like she's Justin's biological mum the way she deals with my shit. I don't think... she can't know the full extent because I didn't even realise but I'll talk to her once Jus wakes up and we know more about his recovery. Sammy, you can't fucking wait in your treatment. It's fucking cancer."