Markiplier Ego Stories

Ch 3.2

Just the Jims and Hosty Boi being cute

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It had been five days. Five days since the Host had been attacked and he hadn't woken up since. Nobody had seen Dark except for at the meeting, where he almost choked one of the Jim twins and nearly broke Google Oliver because he sat in the Host's normal seat. He'd dismissed the meeting early and left. Dr. Iplier explained what had happened.

Later on, the Jims popped by the med bay to see the recently diagnosed as comatose Host.

"Host?" The first Jim asked, walking over to him. "It's the Jims... We wanted to know where your record player was?"

"His record player?" Dr. Iplier asked, standing. "I know where that is. Why do you need it?"

"Well," the second Jim- or was he the first?- said, shuffling nervously, "Uh, Host used to let us into his room... Whenever we had visions cause he has 'em too, and we'd sit on his bed and he'd play his music and tell us a story and make us cinnamon hot chocolate til we fell asleep, and he used to stay up all night just in case we had another vision and needed help."

The Jims did look pale, now that he took a closer look at them. Jim was sweaty and nervous; he kept glancing around the room as if someone was about to attack him. The other Jim also looked nervous, and the good doctor could see that he was trying to hold in tears.

"I may not be as good as Host, but I can do all that for you in here if you like," he offered. "He keeps his record player here, in case he ever needs me for what he does for you two."

The Jims nodded and sat down next to Host on either side of him, curling up next to him. Dr. Iplier played the record, a soft song of symphony music that the Jims had evidently heard many times as they instinctively began to hum along. Dr. Iplier covered the comatose man and his pseudo-children with a blanket, and, cuddling the Host, they fell asleep rather fast.

Later, at about five p.m., Dr. Iplier looked up to see Jim whimpering and making movements. Other Jim soon followed, and he was left not knowing what to do. The music hadn't stopped.

"J-Jim!" The first Jim called for his brother. "No!" The second Jim was violently thrashing and muttering under his breath. Dr. Iplier rushed over to wake them up, but neither responded, lost in the throes of their nightmares.

Dr. Iplier stood there, at a loss for what actions to take. The Host had never behaved like this in his visions, only muttering narrations excessively fast under his breath, then stopping if the doctor woke him up. But the Jims wouldn't wake up. He stood helpless, losing track of time, watching the twins suffer and being able to do nothing to help them.

Finally, one Jim sat upright, violently awake, and screamed like he had just witnessed something worse than bloody murder. Dr. Iplier rushed over to him, grabbed his hand and made Jim make eye contact with him.

"Jim," he said. "Jim it's me, it's okay. I'm here. You're not dreaming. Feel my hand."

Jim closed his mouth and turned to him with wide, dilated eyes, breathing heavily and noticeably disheveled.

The other Jim woke at that point, but that was only because he fell off the bed when he heard Jim screaming. He curled into a ball and cried. Jim went to join his twin on the floor, trying to give each other the comfort they needed but failing miserably.

"I don't know what to do," the doctor said, running his hands through his hair. "I don't- I don't know what to do." He looked over to Host, who was lying in the same position as always.

"Help me," he said, as a Jim began another episode as if it was happening to him in the room. He was reminded of Stranger Things, the TV show, in the way that Jim had his episodes.

"Host!" He cried, running to the blind man. "Wake up! Help me!" There was no reply.

One Jim was crying out for the other, but the other seemed to be frozen. Where did these episodes come from? Why did they happen? Dr. Iplier sank to the floor in defeat, wishing he could help his patients but not knowing what to do.

Suddenly the music turned louder, and the Jims seemed to falter in their traumatizing events.

"...The- the Host..." Came a voice, and Dr. Iplier was overjoyed to hear Host, however weak he sounded. "The Host... Whisks the Jims-" he grunted painfully, as if using even just this bit of magic hurt him "-and the good doctor to his room..."

And suddenly the Doctor found himself standing in the Host's room, small and dark, just the way he'd left it. Host wasn't ready for the abrupt change and stumbled, clutching to his desk with much effort.

"The music... Begins to play to the Jims," Host continued, and music piped into the room. The Jims seemed calmer now, but were still flitting between reality and their visions. "And the Jims suddenly find themselves in Host's bed, warm and comfortable, their visions ceasing."

Host nearly fell over at that point, and he was already on his knees. The Jims, however, were shaking themselves back to reality.

"J-Jim?"

"I'm- I'm here, Jim." They clutched each other, looking around nervously until they spotted the Host.

"Host?" They said in unison.

"The Jims felt compelled to stay in bed despite the failing condition of the Host," Host narrated desperately. "They then found themselves with..." He panted with the effort of narrating things into existence. "...With two mugs of cinnamon hot chocolate."

"But what about you, Host?" Jim asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"The Host... Will be fine," he said. "The Host just needs to... Get back up..."

He fell over. Dr. Iplier rushed to his side, checking his vitals.

"Is he okay?" One Jim asked from his spot.

"He will be after some rest," the doctor concluded. "He just woke up and then narrating you two took its toll on him."

"We'll stay up," the Jims offered. "It's pretty late by now- you should sleep."

"What about you?"

"If he wakes up, then we'll be okay. We'll put him to bed." They shooed the doctor out of the room, promising to call him if anything odd happened. Then they set Host in bed and watched vigil for him.

The next day, all three were fine, but Dr. Iplier insisted that they all have a checkup. He was a doctor after all, even if Host narrated all of King's squirrels into his hospital room.