Septiplier One Shots

Stupidity and Love

(Seán's P.O.V.)

Thirty years ago our world was turned into one of survival of the fittest. It was a war of the two best, trying to overpower the other side. Many just named the sides "light" and "dark", which I guess is fair. I mean, "light" wears a lot of light colors, while "dark" wears a lot of dark colors. But it doesn't symbolize what we are. "Light" and "dark". They're simply shades of colors, an adjective, but not the right kind of adjective.

Both sides believe in different things. Both sides are just plainly different. I'm from what you would call the "light" side. My name is Jack, that's what everyone knows me as. Jack. The one with the glowing heart, cool visor, and good with guns. The two sides fight, mainly in arenas where there are medics to help someone if they get badly hurt. Sometimes though...

Sometimes we aren't that lucky. Or sometimes there's an injury that's just to bad for a support character to take care of. It's difficult. It's risky. It's my life. Being in the arena, fighting, becoming a household name on my side of the city. Many parents would never let their kids do this. I didn't have parents to tell me not too. And I don't regret it one bit. Mainly cause, because I do this... I met him.

Some would say I was stupid to take the bullet. Some would say that I should have let it hit him and let him die. But because of my stupidity I'm laying here with blood trickling down the side of my mouth, a bullet in what is now the cracked, glowing circle in the middle of my chest keeping my heart going. Everything is wonky, I can't focus on one sight, sound, anything. Only my thoughts.

Everyone says the same thing. He's heartless. Cold. Physically unable to feel human emotions. He was made to kill, raised to hurt. The perfect assassin. But as he sits here, with his hand under my head and speaking words I cannot hear, I know it isn't true. I smile softly at him, finally understanding what he's saying.

He's apologizing over and over, regret in his eyes. Regret and sadness. In my mind I chuckle. The heartless assassin Markiplier, sad because the enemy is dying. The enemy. He's the enemy too. I saved the enemy, I took the bullet for an enemy. If I live through this my supervisor is gonna be pissed. But I don't care. He's not dead. Mark isn't dead. 

And with all those thoughts in mind, his voice in my head and the feeling of his hand on my chest, I let the darkness consume me and everything to fade out.

***

Beeping. That's what I wake up too. Soft, rhythmic beeping. I recognize it, but from what? What's the beeping? I will myself to open my eyes, but I don't. I can't. Not yet. I'm to tired. In my head I whine softly, trying once again to open my eyes. I do, but slowly. Once my eyes are fully opened I realize where I am and what's going on.

The beeping is from a heart monitor, and I'm in the hospital. It's very clear. White walls, white ceiling, white floor, white everywhere. I'm on my side, which makes sense. If I was in a "dark" hospital, they'd probably just leave me to die. It's dark in the room though. I turn to see that the blinds are closed, slivers of light peeking out from underneath and in between.

I look down at my chest, staring at the stabilizer (or the previously mentioned green circle). It's perfectly round, seamless, and glowing a soft green. The cracks are gone, just disappeared. Amazing. And good. I can't live without this thing. My heart would stop, and I'd drop dead in an instant. Then I look up. 

My eyes widen in shock at what I see. Or who I see, is more accurate. There, standing in the corner with his arms crossed and looking at the ground, is Mark. Why is he here? Did he bring me here? If so, why did he wait? If he's as bad as everyone says, he wouldn't be here. He would have let me die. But he is here, and he didn't let me die. I smile softly.