Markiplier X Reader

Chapter VIII - (Y/N)

Trigger warning: so guys, just assume that the rest of the story will have mentions of depression and self-harm. I'm not going to continue with these specific trigger warnings for every chapter, but whenever another possible trigger appears I will warn you guys.

I spend a few days in the hospital but luckily I'm not sent to a mental hospital since it wasn't a suicide attempt. The doctor decides I'm mentally stable enough to go home, so Mark and I return to his house.

Luckily, Mark had a few videos pre-recorded for emergencies and posted those. However, he only posted one a day since that was all he had enough for, so he explained to his fans that I was in the hospital. Though he was kind enough not to tell them why. His fans were all very supportive, and some of them even found my Instagram page and commented on my latest photo wishing me well.

Although I'm not allowed to have my phone right now, so Mark had to look for me. But he read some of the comments to me and people said stuff like "you're so strong and sweet, we know you'll get through this" and "we're glad you have someone like Mark to help you through whatever is going on". 

Now that we're back at Mark's house, I'm allowed to have my phone. I post a picture of Chica and caption it with "Home sweet home". Mark makes us dinner and it's considerably better than the hospital food we've both been eating and we sit down in the living room in silence.

Both of us have had some trouble with knowing what to say to each other for the past few days. I think Mark somehow thinks that the situation is his fault; I can see the guilt in his eyes every time he looks at me. He's seen pretty much all of my scars now, and I have a feeling he connects himself to each one of them.

There's no point in me needing to constantly wear long sleeves anymore, and he suggests that I wear t-shirts as it begins to get significantly warmer outside. But I'm not sure if I'll be able to take that big of a step.

"Listen, Mark," I start. "I'm okay, really. I prefer long sleeves. Please don't make me wear t-shirts."

"Okay. But you don't have to hide from me anymore. That's all I'm saying," he replies.

It gets late fast, and I'm eager to take a real shower since I only got sponge baths at the hospital. They didn't allow me to shower while I was there either for obvious reasons. "I'm going to go up and take a shower before bed," I tell Mark. He nods. I get up to go upstairs and he begins to follow me. "What are you doing?" I ask, confused.

"I'm not just going to let you shower without some kind of supervision," he explains. "I mean I'm not going to watch you shower, and I'm not going to look at you when you're getting in and out of the shower, but I'm going to be in the bathroom with you when you shower for a little while. And I'm going to have to start checking your legs, arms, and stomach for cuts."

I say nothing, horrified at the thought of Mark supervising my showers. Is he serious?? But I don't argue because I know that there's no point. It was probably a suggestion of the doctor and I'm sure he doesn't want to just as much as I don't want him to. So we go upstairs together.

I grab my pajamas and go into the bathroom where he's already waiting, sitting on the counter playing on his phone. He sees me come in and turns away from me and the mirror so he can't see me. In silence, I undress and step in the shower. I hear Mark shift, but I'm not sure as to where.

The water feels tremendously good on my skin, but it burns incessantly in my stitches. I wash myself carefully, as not to irritate it further. Sometime about halfway through my shower, I hear Mark start to hum to a tune I don't quite recognize.

His voice is soothingly smooth and his transition between notes is almost flawless. Even though he's only humming, I can feel the emotion he has behind it. I can tell this is a song that means a lot to him, so I say nothing and stay quiet in fear that he'll stop humming.

He finishes and I wait a few second before commenting to make sure he's really done. "That was... amazing, Mark," I say.

"What?" He sounds confused. "Oh right. Sorry, I didn't actually realize I was humming until just now. Normally I sing when I'm in the shower, so I guess it was just a reflex," he tells me. He sounds a little flustered, almost... is he embarrassed?

"It's okay," I reply. After a little while, I finish my shower. "I'm coming out now," I warn. I step out of the shower and grab a towel and start drying myself off. I put all my clothes on and wrap the towel around my hair. "Alright, it's safe," I say. He turns around and looks at me, but doesn't say anything. "Your voice is really good, by the way. You should sing more often."

"I've uh... I've been taking some lessons. I'm pretty happy with how good I've gotten so far."

He checks my arms, legs, and stomach to be sure I didn't sneak anything into the shower with me, which I didn't. When he's satisfied that I didn't, we go to bed.

• • •

Our routine changes quite a bit. In fact, Mark almost never lets me out of his sight. He has me sit with Chica in his recording studio when he records, he takes me with him every single time he wants to go somewhere, he continues to be present for my showers, and he moves all of my clothes from my room to his room so I'll have no reason to be alone in the guest room. And I don't have to work for who knows how long since Mark told Leo what happened. Leo was apparently very supportive and said I should take all the time I need.

The only alone time I get is when Mark showers, and even that is barely anything since he takes quick showers. I think it's safe to say that Mark and I have gotten to know each other pretty well.

    •                              •                              •

"Hey Mark," I say while I'm in the shower one day.

"Yeah?" he responds.

"Why don't you sing more often?" I ask. I haven't heard him hum or sing ever since that first shower.

"I don't know. I guess I just don't sing in front of other people much."

I think for a minute. Would it be weird for me to ask him to sing again? I wonder. What harm could it do? "Could you... sing something for me? You sounded really good last time and it was relaxing," I ask.

"Oh... um... sure," he responds. He starts humming another tune that I don't really recognize and I let the sound of his voice wash over me.

I finish washing myself and warn Mark that I'm getting out of the shower. I open the curtain and step out, drying myself off.

Mark is still humming, and I look up at him to see him watching me in the slightly fogged mirror. I wrap the towel around myself. "Mark!" I exclaim. He's never done this before. At least, not that I know of.

He jerks his head away. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" he says, worried. "I didn't mean to. I just... I saw you for a second and then I..." he trails off.

"You what?" I ask. Honestly, I'm not all that mad at him. I was just surprised  that he would sneak a peak like that.

"I..." Mark sighs. I watch him rub his temples, obviously contemplating what he should say. "I can't help but have feelings for you," he says so quickly it's as if he feared he wouldn't be able to say it any slower.

It takes me a moment to process what he said. "You... what?" I repeat in shock.

He turns slowly to face me but has trouble looking at me. "This isn't how I wanted to tell you," he starts. "In fact, I wasn't really planning on telling you at all. But you're such a good person with a great spirit. And you care so much about the world and the people in it. Ever since the first day I met you, I knew you were an amazing person. And I just ended up falling for you somewhere along the line," he explains. He takes a step toward me as I stay silent, watching him in awe. "I don't expect you to reciprocate my feelings, and we can forget this even happened if you want."

I think for a moment, trying to say something, anything, but have trouble forming the words. "Mark, I..." I start. I take a step closer to him, the gap between us is now only mere inches. He looks up at me with hope in his eyes, waiting for my response. "I do reciprocate your feelings," I whisper.

Our faces are so close to each other that I can feel his warm breath on my face. He looks at my lips and licks his own. We lean toward each other, and the wait before our lips touch feels like an eternity.