Dark was very quiet the next day. Mark figured that what he had done last night took a lot of energy to do. So he was probably resting. It was a nice break away from him so Mark wasn't really complaining. Matt and Ryan had taken Chica out with them, because Mark felt she needed a walk.
He needed a bandage for his hand and it hurt like hell. He could barely move it without needing to resist the urge to scream. He told Jack that he fell off the bed last night and he landed on it awkwardly and sprained it. As for the hole in the wall he said that it had always been there. Jack seemed to believe the bullshit story, which was somewhat of a relief. He hated lying to Jack. It made him feel horrible but he knew it was for the best. Mark decided he'd go to the doctor once Jack had finished moving in.
"I don't get it." Jack thought aloud. Mark looked over at the Irishman, who was sat down on the sofa taking a break. He was deep in thought. His big eyebrows were furrowed together.
"Don't get what?"
Jack gave him a serious look for the first time he had been there.
"If you sprained your hand as you fell out of bed, how come you're using a bandage? You'd need some sort of wrist support. I'm not saying I'm a doctor or anything but a bandage won't help for much other than cuts and stuff."
Shit. Jack was so smart when he wanted to be. Too smart. Mark looked down at his hand, which was limp in his lap and still throbbing slightly. Mark knew he had broken at least two of his knuckles. He started fiddling with the bandages with his free hand like a child who knows they're in trouble. He shook his head and shrugged.
"I dunno. It's all I had. Why are you so worried about my hand? It was an accident."
"I'm just curious, it just doesn't add up." Jack shrugged back, acting as if he was dismissing the conversation. But his eyes clearly showed that he wanted a proper explanation from Mark.
"Well. I am the one and only Markiplier and I tend to do a lot, and I mean a lot, of stupid things." Mark joked.
"You got that right, ya big dope." Jack laughed. But then he moved next to Mark suddenly and held his sore hand. Mark flinched as Jack carefully examined it for a few seconds. Mark's heart raced and he found it slightly harder to breathe. Jack looked up at Mark, hesitated for a moment, then started to slowly remove the bandages. His eyes widened at the state of Marks knuckles for a split second, and his fingers hovered over the scratches and bruises. Then he let go.
"Mark. That's not a sprain."
Mark looked at the floor, he couldn't make eye contact. What was he going to say? Dark was obviously getting stronger, and Mark was terrified of what might happen to him in the future. But there was no way he could tell Jack that this was Darks doing without him thinking he was crazy.
" I know. I-uh I punched the wall..." Mark muttered to the floor. Thats all the explanation he could give. He could feel Jack's eyes burning into him. His concern was practically radiating throughout the room and it made Mark uneasy. It felt like hours had gone by before either of them had said anything.
"Okay." Jack said, wrapping Mark's hand in the bandages once more. Mark looked up in surprise and was met with a understanding smile from Jack. Okay? What did that mean? Mark's confusion only made Jack's sad smile a little bigger. A little more understanding.
"It's alright if you don't wanna talk about it just yet. I'm sorry. It's none of my business..." Jack told him, looking at Marks hand once more whilst carefully wrapping the last of the bandage. Once he had finished Mark placed his sore hand back on his lap.
"Thanks." Mark sighed. Jack was honestly one of the greatest friends he could ask for. He thought that Jack would flip out when he saw that Mark had lied. He thought that Jack would overreact and constantly worry about the state of Mark's hand, not leaving him alone until Mark told him the truth. But he just accepted it and acted like everything was completely normal. It killed Mark knowing that he couldn't show Jack how grateful he was for that.
Jack said nothing and left to finish packing the last of his stuff. Mark slumped into the sofa and looked up at the ceiling. Guilt building up inside him as he forced his friend to live in a lie. Nothing was okay, but they had to act like it was. All because Mark was too afraid to face the truth.
He cares about you. A lot.
His heart sank with disappointment. His moment of peace from Dark had ended.
"I know." Mark sighed, accepting that Dark was going to torment him some more.
Do you care about him?
Mark frowned. What sort of a question was that? He knew that Dark already knew the answer to that. Was this Darks way of trying to have a civil conversation? Because if it was then it wasn't working.
"Of course I do." Mark responded quietly as he heard Jack coming down the stairs once more.
Mark suddenly grew fearful as he felt Darks power filling up inside him.
He was going to take over.
Mark stumbled off the sofa and sprinted up the stairs. He sped past Jack, ignoring his confused cries as he almost fell down the stairs. Mark had to get to the bathroom. He had to lock himself away from Jack. His head started spinning and he heard Jack running up behind him. He felt queasy and his legs grew weaker as Dark tried to take control. Dark was laughing hysterically in his mind as Mark fell into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. He fumbled pathetically at the lock but managed to lock it with shaky hands.
He slumped onto the back wall and started shaking violently. He clenched his fists, his nails were biting into to the palms of his hands. He fought Dark vicously and held onto the bit of control he had as if his life depended on it. Which it did. He could hear nothing but Darks laughter and all he could do was sit there like a duck.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck..." Mark muttered, his head now erupting with pain. He crawled to the toilet and hurled into it. He fell back onto the floor lying down. His throat was burning from the stomach acid and bile.
He needed to calm down, the more he panicked, the easier it would be for Dark to possess him. So he thought about Jack. He thought about his aqua blue eyes and how his legs felt weaker as he stared into them. He thought about how his hair was always messy yet it suited him perfectly anyway. He found that his body wasnt shaking as violently as he kept on thinking. He imagined Jack's voice reassuring him that everything was going to be okay, in that accent that he found so amazing.
Eventually, he had stopped shaking. He pushed himself up from the floor and weakly stood up. He leant against the wall for support.
"Mark?" Jack called from the other room. Then he passed out.
Hey,just to let you know the next chapter won't be out for a while. I'm not feeling the greatest and I want to try and motivate myself so I don't write anything rubbish for you guys. Not that I'm writing anything good for you anyway...
But thanks for those who are actually reading. I'll keep you updated. Much love to you and I'm sorry...
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Guilty Conscience (Darkiplier)Fanfiction
"Mark? MARK! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Mark has always had to deal with Darkiplier for as long as he could remember. It wasn't too difficult to live with Dark until Jack moves in with him in L.A. At which point Dark decides he's going to ha...