Mark(iplier) X Reader
I tried to ignore the the messages that kept popping up on my laptop. The pinging was just white noise to the voices I kept hearing in my head. I was trying to pick his melodic voice out from the static, but all the others that screamed and yelled were too loud. They were agitated and in pain.
The messages kept getting louder, to the point were I just turned around and pulled the plug. I saw most of them were from Mark. He was well aware as to what had happened to my best friend, from the first message I got of his death all the way to my last regret of never being with him in his last moments. It was ripping me apart at the seams.
There was no one else I needed, no one else I wanted. He was the person I never had the strength to be. What was I to do now? How am I to handle all the memories and promises we had made?
Now my cellphone was going off. Damn everyone, I just wanted to be alone. What would I have to do to get them to understand that? I don't need them to coddle me and say how sorry they are, how everything is going to get better. I don't need to cry on their shoulders or release the pain through words. I'm not that kind of person.
The burning on my wrists flared up in desperation. I didn't even realize I had picked the blade back up, carving more slits into the skin. When did I start doing this again? What time was it anyway? There were many questions as to what truly was happening, I kept throwing personas out to deal with people as I went on autopilot again and again. I was no longer in control.
In my head, I felt fine, other then the voices. They were a comfort really, even with the screaming, but I knew I was far from being okay. The cuts on my skin would say so, but that's more of a release. I need it to stay attached, or else I'll float away. It reminds me that I'm still alive, even though I'm caught up in some hellishly prolonged night terror. This was real, this happened, and I'm stuck in the darkest depression.
Just laying back on the bed, trying to remember his face as he lay in that coffin, I played my wrists like fucking violins, just sliding back and forth. Blood splattered and fell across my waist, little spurts and tears. I didn't bother to cover them when I heard the door being beaten on like crazy. What did people think, that hitting it enough would magically open it?
I rolled over and got over to the door. Standing there, I lost myself again in thought before I came back and turned the lock. Of course, it was Mark, practically shaking with effort. Did he run all the way here? I was just down the hall from him, so why was he breathing like he ran a mile and had a panic attack in the process??
.....Oh, yeah I'm covered in blood.
"Jesus fucking hell!" He stared at me in terror, shaking now as he grabbed my wrists to compress the bleeding and pulled me back into my apartment. Running around like a busy bee, I watched faintly as he pulled together medical supplies and bandages. Didn't he know that these cuts weren't deep, just an accumulation of my actions to ruin the skin almost to my elbows?
"____-! I ddon't even-Why would you..." Mark's voice was trembling, fingers pressed into my wounds, but I felt relief at the pain. "I was calling you and messaging you, and-shit! Why are you still bleeding!!"
"Mark, please stop panicking." Even though I didn't feel like dealing with his breakdown, I tried to add a comforting tone to my voice. It was scratchy like a broken record. "I'm going to be fine. You don't have to worry so much."
"Worry! You think I'm just fucking worried!?!" The glare and anger in those eyes, I almost wanted to believe in it. Did I really make him this mad? "What the hell _____! I couldn't be more pissed off with you."
By now, he had wrapped my whole arm and proceeded to the next. Already it was sopping wet with blood, staining the darkest crimson I had ever seen. Maybe I had gone deeper then I thought, but I couldn't truly tell. I felt my threads on reality loosening again.
"Mark, please stop panicking..."
"You already fucking said that! And I won't."
Tying it up one last time, he hauled me into his arms, almost charging out the door to what I presumed was the hospital. Jeesh, it wasn't that bad, why were we heading there? I'm not suffering blood loss or anything, although I now did feel lightheaded. Probably from the sunlight. It was so intense.
"______, you better not touch those bandages or I swear to god I will strap you to that seat. Got it?"
The car was moving so fast, I could barely see the world passing by, just colors blurred through the windows. The glass withheld a place I no longer felt connected to, trapped in. There was nothing to worry about. But Mark kept stuttering and yelling, like I was really listening.
"_____, I know it hurts.
I know you miss...But please! Just fucking please try to live!" I could hear his voice fading and breaking in the process. Spots were forming in the colors, like black ants slowly invading the space around me. "It won't be easy. It's won't be the same life you imagined with....But you need to. You need to live. I just need you to do this for me."
He gripped my face in his hands, this look on his face that slowly started to shake me to my core. It held so much love and fear and misery.... Wasn't he driving, why the hell did he let go of the steering wheel?!
"Please ____....Live for me-Live for us!
...I love you....Remember that I love you...."
".....I love you too Mark...."
I came to after awhile. I was still lying on my bed, hearing the voices, my computer dinging, and cell phone going off. My wrists all the way to my elbows burned with heat and pain, blood coating and coagulating all over my clothes, skin, and sheets. I sat up long enough to come back fully to reality. To the world I was trying desperately to push out.
Mark's voice finally broke through the noise of it all, his words sticking into my head. His last words....
I loved him...but he was never coming back.