Markiplier: REBOOT

Episode 4: A Little Thing Called Trust {revised}

Episode 4: A Little Thing Called Trust

Author’s Note: Hey guys! Please note that not everything in this chapter (or this entire story) is necessarily accurate—for example: Mark’s favourite LOTR movie or chain of events that led Mark to be the waste he is or the lines/timelines of the movies mentioned. Just go with it, k? :) Oh, and sorry for the rushed ending. It’s a bit late and I am losing ideas! .... OH! And pardon any gramatical errors-- too lazy to edit XD

~Sevvy

P.S. I made the gif that's displayed for this episode. It's my old URL, though. If you want to follow me on tumblr, my URL is www.thehound-and-thebird.tumblr.com or you can find me at www.smittywerbenjagermanjenseniplier.tumblr.com Just click the external link! ENJOY! 

Episode 4: A Little Thing Called Trust

It had been some days since I found Mark at my bar. Things were getting steadily better between the two of us, which was a comforting notion. Not that I would admit it aloud, but it was nice having someone to share my life with. Tony and Cassie were great, don’t get me wrong, but having the presence of someone who knew nothing about me had a positive outline to it. He didn’t know my demons and something about that made it easier to be around him.

After what happened, Mark stuck around. There was some air of reluctance about him. Maybe a reluctance to leave me alone after what happened. There was an unmistakeable tension thrown into the air whenever we were in the same room.

He slept in the living room on the pull out couch. My bedroom door was left unlocked and was often times cracked open. Nightmares were few but they still woke me up during the night. I didn't scream, though, which was a welcome pleasantry. Instead, I would wake up with a gasp, my sheets occasionally soaked with sweat. Mark was always there to help change my sheets. He'd be walking slowly into my room by the time I was out of bed; he'd quietly help me change my wet bedding and then he'd looked me over once before leaving the room. Mark always left the door open a crack.

Part of me wondered if he ever got much sleep. If he didn't, he never showed that it bothered him.

After a day or so of Mark staying over, I finally asked him if he just wanted to stay with me. It would be better than living on the bench outside the bar. There was a moment of silence as he thought it over. The look on his face looked like he was warring on the inside. He eventually agreed to it. I offered him a job-- I needed a new bar hand, anyway, and I wasn't going to let him live here without paying rent.  

Ever since Mark decided to stay with me, my life seemed to be getting better and better. He always went out of his way to ask if I ever needed help or to make me laugh on the days I found it hard to get out of bed. The injuries inflicted upon me often made it much more difficult. He even made sure I got to the doctor’s office the other day for a check up. I was too stubborn to actually go myself, never wanting to impose on someone else’s time if it wasn't necessary. In the end, Mark actually carried me out of the apartment bridal style and shoved me into the car, driving me to the office. I guess I didn’t have much of a choice then, but it was good fun in the end, and I appreciated it all the same. It was a relief to know that I was healing fast.

 His presence brought me a sense of security that I haven’t felt in a long time. I couldn't figure out what about him made me feel so safe. Maybe it was because I wasn’t as alone or maybe it was the whacky sense of humour he had. I mean, who couldn’t laugh along with his profanity-filled jokes? They would have to be a fool not to appreciate his effortless nature when it came to comedy. But when he wasn’t busy cracking jokes to make me smile, he spent most of his time in silence.