Remember - Darkiplier x Reader [Part Four]

“No. No, no, no. (y/n), stay back. NO!” Mark screeched and scrambled to back against the wall, his hands over his ears. You whispered as bravely as your could, “Mark, Mark, calm down. It’s fine. You’re fine.” Mark shook his head, “No, (y/n), you don’t understand! He-He’s back! He’s in my head!”

“Who? Who are you talking about, Mark?” you said, even though you knew the answer. You sat down on the floor next to Mark, who had slid down the wall, his knees tight against his chest. You rubbed his arm and muttered, “Hey now, it’s okay. I’m here. Mark, don’t you worry. I’m right here with you.”

Mark breathed in and out, his eyes darting around, mumbling incoherently. He leaned into you for support, and you stroked his arm, whispering, “Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay. He’s gone. He won’t come back.” You lied. You knew he would come back, but Mark didn’t need to know. He couldn’t know. All you could do was comfort him in his dark times of need.

After what felt like ages, Mark looked up at you blearily, his glasses fallen far down his nose. He gave a weak smile, but it was different. And it wasn’t the demon’s smile. No, this one was sad. Broken. Defeated. You returned his expression and ran your hand up and down his arm comfortingly, “Are you… you okay now?”

He nodded slowly, “Yeah, yeah I think so. I don’t… what did I say? Everything was a blur.”
Your previous conversation seeped into your mind at Mark’s words. He will most likely have no recollection of these events.” You sighed and stared ahead blankly, “You… said something about a man. You said he was in your head. You told me to not get close to you; you thought he would hurt me if I did.” Mark ran his hands through his hair, “A man? Who could that be?”

Do not alert him of my presence. It is important that he stays calm throughout this. If he resists, the consequences will be dire. “I have no idea, Mark.”
-
You bobbed up and down in excitement, landing on the couch as the screen counted down for the beginning of the episode. You yelled, “Mark! It’s starting!” A reply came from the other room, “I’m comin’, ya crazy woman.” You grinned as the season premiere of The Walking Dead came closer, shouting impatiently, “Maaaaaark!”

Mark plopped down on the couch to your left, holding a bowl of popcorn. Unfortunately, the velocity of his fall made it so the contents of the bowl flew everywhere, kernels raining down on the two of you. Luckily, most of them landed on the couch so you were able to clean them up quickly, just in time to catch the opening scene. You grinned and bounced on the cushion, prompting a titter from Mark.

“What?” you asked. He shook his head, “You are really excited.” He stated. You elbowed him, “Hey, don’t judge. You’re excited too. Reminder that you were the one who said you would never let me into your apartment again unless I came over to watch it with you.” Mark laughed and shrugged, “Whatever.”

When the first commercial break came, you gave a quick glance at Mark. You weren’t sure if you two were together or not. You tended to stay away from trifling with petty things such as relationships, but this seemed… different. Mark seemed interested in you; both his kiss and the demon had confirmed that. But Mark didn’t acknowledge the kiss you two shared. And not because he was ashamed; he simply didn’t remember it happening. When the demon invaded his body, he forgot everything related to kissing you. You were half glad that he forgot—not only did it slightly embarrass you that you had kissed your closest friend (and enjoyed it too!), but you also didn’t want him to know what had happened when the demon came. Once you had realized that Mark was no longer there, you had pried yourself from its arms and bolted to the kitchen. The demon had laughed and walked leisurely towards you, and it was all blurry after that. Bits and pieces still remained; you being taken into a dream state, exposed to your biggest fears and worst nightmares. But you had awoken later, slumped on the kitchen counter and Mark shaking you awake. You shuddered, shoving the thought out of your mind.

After an hour of watching intently, the episode had ended and you and Mark were left sitting on the couch, reeling on and on about what had just happened. Once you finished, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, Mark staring at his hands.

Mark’s voice sounded through the air unexpectedly, muttering softly, “I remember.” You sat up, propping against the couch with your elbow, “What?”

He repeated it again, his eyes unblinking, “I remember.” He said slowly, as if it pained him to say it.

You tilted your head, “You remember? Remember what?” you were partly excited; maybe he remembered his assault, so he could stop staying up at night wondering how he got his deep scars. Or maybe now he could recall the demon’s face, the one that you could never forget. Or maybe-

Your thoughts were cut off as a pair of soft lips were planted on yours. You shuddered, embracing him gently, returning the simple passion. Then he parted away, his mouth a millimeter from yours. He mumbled, “That’s what I remember doing.”