A/N: This song is called "Nothing Without You" by Pigeon John
I woke up the next morning with a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I grabbed my tablet and opened the YouTube app. The only trace of Mark on YouTube were reuploads of some of his more popular videos. Twitter? Gone. Facebook? Gone. Instagram? Gone. Everything was gone. "That son of a bitch did it." I said, sitting up in disbelief. I raced to get dressed and practically ran over my roommate trying to get out the front door. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" she asked. "I'll explain later." I said, closing the door behind me.I bum rushed my car and drove like a pissed off teenager until I reached Mark's house. I saw Mark's car in the driveway as I pulled up. "Thank god." I mumbled. I knocked on the door a few times, looking like a moron waiting for him to answer. When he did, he looked like he hadn't slept in awhile. "(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" he asked. "I'm not sure." I said. "I saw your video. You deleted everything." "Yep. I had to. I'm not happy about it, but it was for the best." "But..." I started. "(Y/N), I have to finish cleaning. The realtor will be here soon." I was stunned. "You're going through with all of this?" I asked, feeling breathless. "Yes." he said. "I'll be in touch." With that, he closed the door. I walked back to my car in shambles, unsure of what was up and what was down. I looked at my phone. God, more hate. More hate than I'd ever seen in one place before. Everyone was blaming me for the death of Markiplier. I just slammed my car in gear and decided to go hole up at home for awhile, and hope against all hope that none of the insane fangirls tried to find me.
Weeks turned into months and still no word from Mark. "Forget him." My roommate said, sitting down to take her shoes off after a long day of work. "I would if I could." I said. "You can, you just won't." I rolled my eyes. "I know you're trying to be supportive, but...it's not helping. I'm worried. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." "None of this is your fault. He flipped out." I sighed. "Look, I'm gonna try calling again." My roommate rolled her eyes. "It's your phone plan." she said. I dialed Mark's number and stood out on the balcony, smoking nervously. "Hello?" "Mark?" There was a pause. "(Y/N)?" "Yeah, it's me...where are you?" There was another pause. "I'm in Miami." Glamorous. "Are you okay? You don't sound too great." "I'm fine." Liar, liar. "You haven't told me shit. You promised you would keep in touch." "(Y/N), I haven't worked in months, I'm barely able to pay my fucking phone bill. Things didn't work out like I thought they would, okay? I blew through all my money..." I bit my lip and hung my head a bit. "God...I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." I trailed off. Mark sighed. "No I'm sorry." he said. "I'm a bit...moody." I brainstormed quickly and decided to go after him. "Look, I'm on my way to Miami." I said. "No, stay in LA. Keep living your life, and I'll figure out how to fix mine." "This is non-negotiable, Mark. Where's your brother? Your mom? Your stepmom? I find it hard to believe that NONE of them are trying to help you." "They're where they live. They think I'm having a blast down here. I lied." I sighed. "Alright, Mark. Tell me exactly where you're at." "Laying on the beach." "Quit joking. I'm serious, if I have to raid the entire city I will." "I'm not joking. I'm laying on the beach...I sleep in alleys." My breath hitched. "God." I sighed. "I'm headed to LAX now." "(Y/N), you don't have to do this." "I can't stay here. Not when you're like this." Mark was quiet. "I love you." I said. "I love you, too..." I hung up and hastily packed a bag. I had no idea how long it was gonna take to find him, but it could take days. There's a lot of beaches in Miami.
I hit the airport and headed to the nearest airline. "Flights to Miami today?" I asked, out of breath. The attendant gave me a weird look before typing away on her computer. "One. 850 dollars plus taxes." I cringed. "Ring me up." I said. There goes my rainy day fund. I took my boarding pass and stared at the wall to pass time. "Jesus." I muttered, feeling anxiety swell inside me. I made sure I boarded quickly and took my seat, letting my head fall back into the headrest. I looked around, irritated with all the slowpokes who were taking forever to get seated. Pushback couldn't come soon enough. I remembered that the flight would take quite a bit of time and I felt sick. I closed my eyes and started fading out. Sleep always makes time pass quickly. I woke up to the plane bouncing on the runway in sunny Miami. "Oh thank fuck." I muttered. A woman traveling with small children shot me a dirty look, but I blew her off. I grabbed my bag and took off for the jet bridge, bypassing flyers the entire time. I navigated the airport quickly until I finally reached the warm air outside. I called Mark and he answered, sounding worse off before. "Where are you?" I asked. "Miami beach." he replied. I grabbed a cab. "Address? Street names? Building names? Help me out here." He groaned, soudning like he was fading out. He named a local restaurant. "I can see it from where I'm laying." I instructed the cab driver to take me to the restaurant post haste. When I arrived, I looked all over for Mark but saw nothing and no one indicative that he was nearby. "(Y/N)?" I turned around to see someone who somewhat resembled Mark. My jaw almost hit the floor. Torn up clothes, overgrown beard, skinny as a rail, broken glasses, and the distinct odor of alcohol. "Mark? Holy shit, what..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. "I know. I just couldn't move on without you." "You know you're not supposed to drink." I said, taking the brown paper bag from his hand. "I know...but...it helped." I tossed the bag in the trash. "Look, you're not going back to LA with me looking like that." "I don't have a place to stay (y/n)." "I'm fixing that right now. There's got to be hotels around here, it's Miami beach." I wandered with a drunk and slow moving Mark until I came across somewhere decent to stay. "Come on." I said, taking him by the hand. I booked a room and half carried Mark in. I raided my bag until I found a razor, a t-shirt, and a pair of sweats. "This should get you started." I said. "Sorry, ll I have is black sweatpants for you to wear...I know it's hot out." He shrugged and thanked me. I watched him stagger into the shower. Poor guy. I waited patiently for him to come out, and when he did he was clean shaven and seemed better overall. He all but collapsed onto the bed. "I...I wanna talk, but I have to sleep first. I haven't slept well in months..." I understood. I hushed him and played with his hair. I was interested to hear whatever it was he was gonna tell me in the morning.
