The Last Time We Met [Markiplier x Natewantstobattle]

Part 3: The First Night and Day

Nate's POV

That evening, I got everything set up. I gave Mark a pillow and extra blanket, before asking if he needed anything else. I had to work in four hours, but I had to be a good host.

"I'm fine," he assured me, a tiny smile on his face. "You should get some sleep before, umm, your shift." I just nodded in response with a soft "Good night". I walked down the hallway, turning off the light as I went. Stripping off my t shirt and jeans, I pulled a pair of dark grey sweats on and laid in bed. I pulled on my favorite pair of headphones, pressed play on the music they connected to, and closed my eyes. Like usual, sleep came reluctantly, but finally I was drifting off...

Until I heard a scream.

My entire body shot up, headphones falling off. A quick glance at my alarm clock told me I had slept for three hours, it was eleven at night. I touched my chest, breathing a little off. Maybe I had just imagined the scream. I tried to think that, but I couldn't shake the feeling.

Grabbing my discarded shirt, I began down the dark hallway. I peeked into the living room to see Mark's silhouette, sitting up. Another nightmare? I thought. My foot bumped the coffee table as I approached him, and Mark screamed again, pulling the blanket over his head in an attempt to hide from whatever he thought I was.

"I c­-can't let them hurt me," he mummered, hand reaching out to grab at something. His voice became more frantic as he groped for whatever it was. "Th­-they can't h-­hurt me."

"Mark," I whispered, sitting in front of him. My hand carefully grabbed his, and he seemed to check to make sure my hand was really there before trying to get closer to me. I almost wrapped my arms around him, but stopped. I needed to make sure he was okay.

"They're d-­dreams, not re-­eality..."

"Mark, it's okay." Gently, I pulled the blanket from his head. I could just barely make out his expression inthis darkness, though I heard the fear in his voice. "Flashlight," he breathed, shaking. I reached towards the table, brushing my hand along the surface until it bumped the light. I lifted it up, and turned it on in a way that didn't hurt our eyes, while making it possible to see his face.

Tears reflected the light, and his hands reached up to swipe at them. My heart ached at the sight, and I wanted to pull him against me. "Oh, Mark." I reached out to grab his hand, but he jerked it away. "Are they here?" he asked, terrified. I watched his eyes as they searched the darkness.

I shook my head, and pointed the light towards the kitchen, then stood up to check. I walked down the hallway, shining the light in every corner, then I checked the three closets in the house. Finally, I walked back and made a big show of locking the front and back door's handles and dead bolts.

I don't know why I was doing this when I wasn't the one who was scared. I wasn't the one who'd woken up from a nightmare. Maybe it was like how mothers would check in the closet and under the bed for monsters when their children were young. My mom never did that, but that was because I wasn't scared of monsters.

But now, looking at Mark as he sat, shaking so badly it was like he was on vibrate, I felt the need to assure him that everything was alright.

"I checked every room in the house," I stated, sitting by him. "They aren't here. You're safe." I handed back his flashlight. He took it and looked down, before leaning forward. I maneuvered my body so that his head rested on my shoulder, like this afternoon. I drew my arms around him, hoping to calm him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I saw h­-him again. I thought he was gonna k­-kill me..." I shook my head softly. It was my mistake leaving him alone in the dark.