Mark and I awkwardly walk out to the car, both unsure what to say. He asks how my day is going, and I give him a short response, followed by an awkward smile. Why do I feel so awkward... I wonder as I hop into his car. We begin driving off. Mark reaches over to turn on some music, trying to soothe the strange tension in the air. I rearrange in my seat, then decide to text the group chat. "elliott im gonna kill you for making me ride with HIM. we've hardly said anything this entire time what do i do???" I sit tapping my fingers waiting for a response from he girls. Not even ten seconds later, they flood the group chat.
"OMG WHAT!!!"
"you need to talk to him. its literally markiplier."
"TALK ABOUT FNAF OR SOMETHING"
I choke out a laugh. They're right. This might be my only chance to actually get to know the Markiplier. Just as I'm mustering up the courage to ask him something, he speaks up. "Do you maybe wanna get some.. ice cream?", he asked with a crooked smile on his face.
"I beg your pardon?", I ask, utterly bewildered. He pauses. "Oh- well, I just thought if you wanted to, we could stop and get some from around the corner. I feel like making it up to you, you know for hitting your car." He was nervously fidgeting with the steering wheel. Do I make him nervous? It was cute, I thought. I pondered for a moment. Should I really be doing this? He is my teacher, after all. And he was Markiplier. But then again, why not? "Yeah, I'd love some ice cream." I say with a smile, to which he responds with a smirk.
As we pull into my favorite ice cream place, McDonalds, he parks the car and we walk in side by side. I'm too focused on him to notice the car that has been following us this whole time. Alana, Grey, Elliott, and Sarah had been discreetly keeping track of my location since Mark and I left the parking lot. They were intent on not missing out on any action.
I placed my order first, opting for a plain ice cream cone. As I was reaching for my wallet, I felt a large hand on my shoulder. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "It's on me." I smiled, let him place the order, and pay. He's so charming. Our cones were served by a recognizable man. Despite the distraction, I took a bite of my ice cream. Mark looked at me puzzledly and laughed. "You bite your ice cream?" I laugh too, "Yeah? And?" I replied, raising a brow.
Bite by bite, the memories flooded back. The Bite of '87. Oh my god.
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Mark begins to panic. All that's going through his mind is Freddy Fazbear biting down on Jeremy Fitzgerald's head.
"We have to go, y/n. Please." I jump up and begin helping him to the car. He's sweating, short of breath, and clearly on the verge of a panic attack. "You can't drive like this." I say, leading him to the passengers seat. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me. I thought I was over this." He's beginning to cry. I reach up and touch his face. "Mark. This isn't your fault. Don't apologize. It's gonna be okay, I promise." I rush over to the driver's seat and start speeding towards our houses. "Can I do anything to help?" I look over at him. My arm is resting on the armrest beside me. He lifts his hand up, hesitates, then wraps it around mine. "Just be here." I can tell he's starting to calm down, but I let it slide. He needs someone.
I pull into Mark's driveway and turn off the car, but none of us move. He's still holding my hand, but I think he's starting to second guess himself. "Thank you y/n, but I should go." He lets go of my hand and I hear him whisper to himself, "I'm your teacher." My heart sinks. Without saying anything I get out of his car and start walking to my house. He calls out to me, but I keep my head forward.
