"Clementine, you're far too ill to go to Comic Con." You listen to your Mother say sorrowfully to your little sister as she sneezes for about the hundredth time into a tissue.
"Mom! I have to go! Don't you understand?" A stuffy headed Clementine wines, coughing into her elbow. "We flew all the way out to California from Pennsylvania just so I could meet him!"
"Clementine, you are too sick to go, and that is my final answer." States your Mother sternly as she tucks Clementine into the hotel bed. "Maybe he'll come to Pennsylvania and you can meet him then."
You watch as your Mother takes the cloth off of Clementines head, and starts to make her way towards the hotel bathroom.
"Who is it that you want to meet so badly anyway?" You ask Clementine, now walking over to her bed and sitting at the end of it.
"Markiplier." She answers, sneezing once more into a tissue.
"Markiplier? Well, that's an interesting name." You respond, trailing off quietly at the end of your sentence.
"That's because he's an interesting person." Clementine answers you proudly.
"Clem, you're only nine years old, you don't even know what interesting men are yet." You answer, shaking your head.
"I do too!" She responds, sending you a pouted facial expression.
"Mhm, and what makes him so special?" You ask Clementine as you reach across the bed, grabbing a tissue out of the tissue box for her.
"Everything about him is interesting." She answers, coughing once more into her elbow.
"Oh yeah? He can't be that interesting due to the fact I've never heard about him before." You answer with a slight smirk on your face, sensing Clementines anger towards you increasing.
"Well, you're just a little book worm, that's why!" Clementine answers loudly, crossing her arms roughly over her chest.
You take slight offense to her words. "I am not a book worm! I just simply have a passion for reading, that's all." You answer, narrowing your eyes fiercely into your sisters.
"That's a lie! All you ever do is read, read, read! You never do anything else!" Clementine now answers with bursts of anger.
"Why do you even care if I like to read or not? I thought we were talking about that loser you wanted to meet!" You respond back with anger now in your tone as well.
"Take that back!" Clementine sneers at you, sitting straight up in the bed.
"No!" You answer sternly.
Before you know it, Clementine is now wrestling you on the bed, trying desperately to pin your arms above your head.
"Clementine, stop it!" You yell, trying to push her off of you.
"Take it back!" She commands as you twist your arms, trying to break them free of her grasp.
"Fine, fine! I take it back." You answer quickly, noticing a look on her face that you too well know, the look of preparing to sneeze.
"Good." Clementine answers, releasing her grasp from your wrists. You both sit up straight, but Clementines facial expression looks much happier than yours does at the current moment.
"I have an idea!" She pipes up after a moment of silence.
"That's never good." You answer sarcastically, as her once happy expression now fades into annoyance.
"I'm serious!" She says sternly to you.
"Alright then, let me hear it." You say with a slight smirk.
"What if you go and get Markiplier's autograph for me!" Offers Clementine with an expression of overexcitement.
"What? Me? No way!" You respond, shaking your head rapidly. "Nope. I won't do it."
"Oh come on! We may never have this opportunity again! Please!" Clementine now pleads, giving you her famous puppy-dog eyes.
"That's a perfect idea!" Your Mother now says, entering back into the room, almost like magic.
You roll your eyes. "And what do I get out of this?" You ask with anticipation.
"The satisfaction of bringing joy to your ill sister." Clementine responds with a devilish smirk now on her face.
"How about-" You begin, trying to think of something better than what Clementine has just offered.
"This can work out! I can stay here with Clementine, as you go and get the autograph!" Your Mother pipes up, placing the dripping wet cloth back onto Clementines head.
You sigh for a moment. "I suppose I could go. But no one, and I mean no one, will ever know that I was at a Comic Con besides us three." You warn, pointing a finger at Clementine and then your Mother.
"And Markiplier too. So, the four of us will never tell." Clementine says with a smirk.
Her words cause you to smile slightly. "Where is it located exactly?" You ask, now walking over to the closet, grabbing your leather jacket.
"Here are the directions, just hail a cab." Your Mother says, handing you a yellow post-it note.
"You're going to look so silly wearing that outfit to Comic Con." Clementine says, getting out of bed for the first time today.
"Huh?" You respond quietly, watching Clementine stroll into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
"Thank you for doing this, honey." Your Mother answers quietly, embracing you into a hug.
"Yeah, yeah." You answer with a smile, securing your combat boots on your feet.
You look at your outfit in the tiny mirror hanging above the dresser. "What did Clementine mean that I would look "silly" wearing this?" You ask your Mother.
Your outfit consists of jeans, combat boots, a leather jacket, and a green tee shirt. You place your brown hair so it falls gently over your shoulders.
"Hurry before the lines get long!" Yells Clementine from the bathroom.
"Lines?" You ask in a panicked tone as you open the door of your hotel room. "How many people will be there?" You yell to Clementine as your Mother pushes you out the door, most likely so you won't change your mind.
The door shuts closed behind you, and you begin to walk down the long hallway slowly.
YOU ARE READING
Markiplied (#Wattys2017)
Fanfiction[]Markiplier X Reader Fan-fiction[] Imagine you walk into Comic Con, feeling awkward that you aren't wearing a costume, and look completely normal amongst everyone else there. You are there for one reason, and one reason only, to get a napkin you gr...
