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lowat-golden-tower · 7 years

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Embracing Darkness

So. This took a while, and I’m sorry lol. Life and work have been bitches and I’ve been de-stressing a lot with some equally ego trash friends of mine. But I finally got time to write, so here it is.

It’s also shorter than I anticipated because I decided to split up the next chapter into two parts. Sorry guys. Not really.

But so yeah. @alcordraws, @galaxy-starheart and @kenmarlenn here’s the sads I promised and maybe it’s not as breaking as I’ve been advertising but I hope it still makes you cry.

#friendship

AO3 Mirror

Chapter 7: Hypothesis

Dark stared down at the prone form of Yandere where he lay in one of Dr. Iplier's few clinic beds. The ego was scarcely recognizable, covered from head to toe in a myriad of casts and bandages. Tubes and wires snaked out around the gaps, attached to various machines gathered at the head of the bed. One produced a steady beep. Dark knew it was Yandere's pulse; the beat of his heart buried away beneath all the rest.

He looked so small. Yandere was hardly large in size or stature to begin with, but like this he almost looked a child. An actual teenager, caught in the throes of a tragedy. Only a few tufts of red and black poked out from the bandages wrapped around his head. There was deep bruising around his eyes, and an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose blurred more.

Slowly and quietly, Dr. Iplier stepped up beside Dark. Having been the ego to bring Yandere in, he'd been by Yandere's side the longest. A few had stopped by after hearing the news: Host, Orville, Wilford. The doctor knew Artie would have been there as well, were he not out of it himself. (He wouldn't have allowed Artie to move from his bed yet anyway. His stitches had barely begun to heal.) They had all left eventually, as there was little any of them could do.

"It's catatonia, not comatose. His... everything, it's in shock. Post-traumatic stress disorder, to put it simply. It's... it's so severe he isn't even responding to extreme external stimuli. Only his eyes have moved since you brought him in, and... I felt it might be easier to just close them."

That had been Dr. Iplier's diagnosis, once he'd done all he could for Yandere's physical injuries. He was hardly a psychiatrist, but he knew enough to recognize the details of Yandere's condition. Part of him wished it was a coma, even if it meant there was less chance of Yandere waking up. At least he would be unconscious. At least he could be at rest, instead of trapped within this frozen state of muteness and loss of motor functions.

It was part of the reason for his quiet, besides the somber atmosphere. He turned to Dark and his tone, while hardened with accusation, was subdued. "...If he'd been human, he would have died before hitting the floor, from what you explained to me. If he were a weaker ego, he would have died before you could bring him to me. He should have... even with his materials and fan base, he shouldn't have survived the surgeries."

Dr. Iplier's grip tightened on the edges of his clipboard and he chewed at his lip. "I spent twelve hours alone realigning his bones. Another six painstakingly removing their fragments from his organs. Another six patching up the lacerations and tears, I... I don't believe in miracles, Dark." His brown eyes glanced to the older ego's face, but it hadn't so much as twitched. Those dark eyes were still locked onto Yandere, greyed hands clasped stiffly behind his back. Dr. Iplier sighed. "Some combination of his support and his abilities pulled him through it, but Dark... I can't do anything for his mind."

Finally, finally Dark turned to evenly meet his gaze. It was chilling and demeaning but beneath that noxious surface lay other suppressed emotions. He didn't say anything, though, so Dr. Iplier continued. "Your shadows broke more than his body. I think there's more to it than a disorder caused by the conflict. I think they left something behind."

Dark quirked one solitary brow, silently offering Dr. Iplier the chance to explain further.

Well, at least he was listening. That alone was more than the doctor had allowed himself to hope for. He sighed again, scribbling something down on the paper attached to his clipboard. It was just a doodle, but it helped him feel productive; helped steady his nerves. "Your shadows caused this, Dark. Your aura, whatever you want to call it. They did this... and I believe they're the only thing that can fix it. It's the only treatment I can think of."

When Dark spoke, it was akin to a subtle shock in the room. The already chilly clinic lowered a few degrees in temperature. "He's an ego. Not a human. Surely, he can work through this."

Dr. Iplier immediately shook his head. "I don't think so. We've never dealt with something like this before, but... Dark. Look at Host. Look at what your abilities have caused him. That was in a controlled state. This... this was catastrophic. There's no other word for it. You know this is something only you can address." He looked to Dark again, working up the nerve, his gaze sad and pleading. He might not be especially close to Yandere, but he never wanted to lose an ego.

Dark was tense. Dr. Iplier could see the frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. "...if I refuse?"

Dr. Iplier's brow furrowed and unlike the other ego, he allowed his frown to show. "Then... my prognosis is bleak. I don't think.... It's not a matter of him dying, Dark. If Yandere stays like this... if he can't be who he is... the fans will lose interest. They'll forget. He'll fade, Dark. He'll fade if he can't be everything Mark created him to be."

Dark turned away from Dr. Iplier, then, but the doctor could still see the tension in his face. He could see the internal debate swirling around in those dark eyes and knew in that moment the responsibility had been taken from his hands. He'd done all he could for Yandere. The rest was up to Dark now; the ego who had driven him to this state. "...I'll consider it. Leave us."

Dr. Iplier almost protested, concerned for exactly what Dark might be inclined to do, but in the end he knew giving Dark privacy would be for the best. Dark wouldn't do anything so long as he lingred, so long as there were witnesses. No, this was a matter he and Yandere needed to sort out themselves.

How Dark planned to do it, Dr. Iplier had no idea. But for Yandere's sake, he hoped it would be something successful.

Once left alone, Dark released a heavy sigh. His shoulders slumped and he allowed his rigid posture to fall as the full weight of the situation settled within him. He forced his fingers to unclench, hands releasing each other to swing listlessly to his sides. Still, the emotion didn't show on his face, only lingering in the depths of his eyes. Even alone, he had standards to uphold.

"Only I can fix this, hm?" He murmured to himself, stepping forward until he could grasp at the short bed rail. He leaned forward on it, looming over Yandere until the shadow he cast engulfed a majority of the younger ego. He didn't so much as twitch in response.

Dark's eyes narrowed. "Only I.... Why should I be required to fix anything? I warned the brat. I told him not to play with forces he couldn't even dream of. He didn't listen, and now he faces the consequences. It's a lesson." The words were a rumbling growl under his breath; a deep rumble in his chest. This was why he wished to be alone. He needed privacy to sort out his thoughts.

To make a decision.

He scoffed lightly and leaned back. "They all still blame me. For all of this. Everything. You were the one who stabbed the artist. You were the one who nearly destroyed the building. You were the one who signed his own death sentence- it was practically a suicide! Yet I am to blame for this. For everything. And now they want me to fix it. To fix you." He scoffed, again, harsher and more demeaning.

Dark forced his gaze away from Yandere, though he couldn't bring it to focus on anything else. He merely glowered into the liminal space. "I am required to do nothing. I have no guilt or remorse for my actions. I knew this outcome was a possibility. I knew the risks. Perhaps you should have considered them more."

He didn't know if Yandere could hear him. Catatonia, Dr. Iplier had emphasized, not comatose. Sometimes, that meant the victim was still conscious, or aware. Others, they might as well have been comatose. Even if Yandere couldn't hear or comprehend Dark's words, he felt compelled to address the bedridden ego. This was all his doing. All of the accidents. If Dark had his way, none of this would have happened. No one would have been significantly hurt.

Yandere would have broken, most definitely, but only to the point of becoming Dark's puppet. Not like this. Not so broken he couldn't even blink or breathe on his own, with his tattered and bruised lungs. Dark's grip tightened on the plastic beneath his hands until the grey of his knuckles turned bone white.

He hissed under his breath. "It failed because of you. It failed because you couldn't simply play along. You had to get ideas. You had to fight back. If you'd simply let me in...."

Yet, that was precisely a reason the aura was so attracted to Yandere. His stubbornness and strength of will; two qualities Dark had himself. Necessary traits if one were to even attempt to wield the darkness. Yandere had them, and he'd used them, and they were key factors as to how he was capable of undermining Dark in the first place. His aura had been all too eager for fresh meat and a more susceptible mind. It was precisely the outcome he'd tried so hard to avoid.

"If only you'd let me in... instead of it...."

Dark finally looked back to Yandere, expression grim and pensive. He allowed some of his tiredness to show; a weariness creasing at his brow and forming lines on his face. Ripping one of his hands from the railing, he hesitantly reached out. Grey fingers found the most prominent tuft of red at the front of Yandere's head and brushed it back with a gentleness that was not contrived. Again, Yandere didn't stir, not even the monitor shifting its rhythm.

He might as well already be dead.

But he wasn't. Yandere wasn't, and even if he did die, he would come back. But it was impossible to know if his resurrection would break the stupor. If his fans would even have faith enough to revive him. If Dark allowed the contaminent, the issue, the "infection" to linger, would it only worsen? Would it become truly impossible to address?

Dark did not want Yandere to fade. Like Dr. Iplier, it didn't matter what his relationship to any given ego happened to be. He would do everything in his power to make certain none of them faded or disappeared. It had always been his primary goal, since the beginning.

Yandere couldn't fade. Dark would not allow it. Much as he refused to accept blame, refused to acknowledge his mistakes or his guilt, refused to admit he cared. He would not allow Yandere to disappear, be it of his own devices or Dark's machinations. He was in control here. He was the king of the castle and all who lived in it.

Dark closed his eyes and leaned back, hand returning to the railing. He drew in a deep, steadying breath and focused all of his attentions upon his aura. His shadows. His darkness. He attuned every last sense to the writhing mass of power and malice.

It sang to him. Spoke to him. It caressed his skin and brushed at his hair like an old friend. Like a faithful companion, but Dark knew better. He knew how those gentle touches could turn to teeth and claws; the murmurs a biting demand gnawing at the unwary mind. He'd had years to learn about the aura and comprehend its every quirk. It took experience to control; to master.

Yandere never stood a chance.

Once certain of his grasp on the aura, Dark, pressed it forward. Like so many times in the past week, he let his energy seep into the ego before him. Yet this time, it wasn't alone. This time, Dark wasn't merely standing back to watch and to wait. This time, Dark was going with it.

He would find Yandere, and he would bring him back. Or else.

#markiplier #markiplier egos #egoplier #darkiplier #yandereplier #dr. iplier #embracing darkness #egos inc #injury #mental illness #ptsd

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