Markiplier Imagines

80 // you

He sat next to you on the park bench, an idle conversation seeming to maintain itself in the thick air. Your words came out small, the sentences you spoke short and quick. He pushed himself a little closer to you, his arm falling around your shoulders in a more-than-friendly gesture. Your shoulders felt abnormally cold to the touch, but he only blew it off.

"Race you to the other side of the park," he whispered in your ear, taking off and hearing your footsteps behind him. When he turned his head, he saw you with a small-ish smile and a look of determination in your eye. He focused back on the path ahead of him, continuing his triumphant victorious run.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, he had run into a pole and you sped ahead, laughing a small bit at his failure. "No! Damn pole! Get out of my way, douchebag!" He tried to find you, but you were nowhere to be seen. He stopped running and called out your name, everything starting to become slightly blurry.

"Y/n! Where'd you go?" He heard something like a violent car crash, jumping and turning around. Before he could really see what was happening, everything went black and all of the sounds in his ears faded out.

Shooting up, he found himself in bed, panting and sweaty. Looking over to his bedside table, he saw it was ten or eleven in the morning. Sighing, he fell back and thought about what he saw in his dream. He couldn't remember much, but he did remember the crashing sound, you disappearing, and the way you felt so cold.

Before he could close his eyes again, his phone went off. Picking it up without looking at it, he clicked the button in the center and saw that he'd gotten a text from Wade. It was as simple as, "Call me." He unlocked his phone and did as the text instructed, listening to the dial tone a few times before Wade picked up.

"Wade? What's up, man?"

"You know what day it is, right?"

"Uh, no? Should I?"

"It's about y/n?"

"Is it her birthday? I thought that wasn't for another couple weeks."

"No, Mark. It's the anniversary of her death."

Mark laughed off what Wade said, but stopped when the receiver went silent. "What?"

"Mark, she died a year ago! How'd you not- Mark, you don't believe she's dead, do you?"

That's when it dawned on him; that's why you were so cold, that's why he heard the crash; you were gone. "She's gone, no, no, no, no, no, she can't be gone." He was in complete denial, his mind wouldn't have any of it. 

"Yeah, Mark. She's gone. She died in a car crash, remember? She was driving and you were in the passenger seat, but whatever jumped in front of her caused her to swerve off the road. You were there, Mark. You were there, and you don't remember?"

About that time, he hung up. His eyes filled with tears as the memories flooded his mind. You were gone, you were gone and he was there when you died. You called his name, but he couldn't move. Then, you suddenly stopped. You died.

"No! Please, no! Fuck, y/n! No, please, not y/n," his voice cracked as he started crying, a sob ripping through his chest. He stood up, trying to wipe his eyes, and went for the picture sitting next to his computer. It was of the two of you, you on his back and him smiling so wide his eyes seemed to disappear, and your smile so wide that your cheeks were red.

Just behind the thing standing it up was a piece of paper, his name scrawled across the visible side. Opening it, he realized what it was. Your letter.

Hey Mark,

I know I should be telling you this face-to-face, but I just can't, I guess. You've always been there for me, always shown that you could be the brightest star in my life, and I truly thank you for that. So, without having to go on and on about how thankful I am to have you, I guess I could just cut to the chase.

I really love you, Mark Edward Fischbach. I know it's strange, for a best friend to love another best friend, but I do. You're such a big part of my life, and you've always proved yourself to me. Like, when I got out of that nasty break up – I think his name was Jason – and you did everything in your power to make me happy. Or when I lost my dad, you were right there to comfort me.

I know I've done little to prove to you that I can do the same, but I really would like to call you mine. God, that sounds so weird, I'm sorry. Gosh, why is it so hard to write all of this sudden?

Anyway! My whole purpose for this letter was to tell you that I loved you, as more than a friend, and it'd be awesome if we could go out sometime. Just, lemme know, yeah?

- Y/n.

That was his breaking point. He absolutely shut down. You were gone, and you were gone because of some dipshit walking in the middle of the road. "Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

You were gone, he was halfway there, and his world would never be the same.

"I miss you."