Antisepticeye Oneshots

Make Him Crack (Dark & Dr. Iplier)

Premise: Dr. Iplier has a heated conversation with Darkiplier about Mark.

In the comfort of the four walls that he calls his room, Darkiplier sits at his desk, writing. He moves his pen across the page with elegance, writing in the notebook that he considers for 'his eyes only'. And, of course, since his book is for his eyes only, he hasn't told anybody about it, so presumably, nobody should even know that it exists, right? Apparently not.

Dark sets his pen down on the desk and sits back in his chair. He flips to a previous page and rubs his index finger along the tear where a page used to be. A growl rumbles in his throat as he stares at the missing page in anger. He goes through everyone he suspects might have stolen his property in his head. Wilford, Google, Bim Trimmer, the Doctor... he's even suspected the Host, who never leaves his room. Someone took that page, and the person that did is going to regret it.

"Dark, there you are!" A voice calls out that Dark recognizes as that crazy Doctor's voice. Dark turns his chair to face Dr. Iplier, who is standing at the doorway. "I've been looking for you. I mean, it wasn't that hard since you're always in your room. Anyways, I've been meaning to talk to you about something that's been bothering me lately." He starts to walk toward Dark, not even asking him if it's okay.

Dark stands up, out of his chair, clearly irritated. "I'm not your therapist, Doctor. I'm not interested in talking." Dr. Iplier stops in his tracks, not wanting to provoke Dark any further.

"Well, would you be interested if the topic of discussion is you? Believe me, if I didn't have to, I would stay as far away from you as possible. But, this is very serious." The Doctor has his hand in his coat pocket, and Dark wonders what he's hiding in there.

Dark exhales through his nose. "Fine. Why don't you have a seat, and we can talk." He says, knowing very well that the only seat in the room is his. However, someone in this building seems like they couldn't care less about his stuff. The Doctor looks awkwardly around the room for a chair, but ends up standing in the exact same spot he's already in.

Dr. Iplier takes his hand out of his coat pocket, which was previously fumbling a crumpled piece of paper, and crosses his arms. Dark thinks he has all the power, but he has no idea what Dr. Iplier has got up his sleeve. "You seem a little on edge, Dark. Is something wrong?" Dr. Iplier stares at Dark's unchanging expression, looking for a hint of emotion. But, both him and Dark know that emotion equals weakness, and neither of them want to appear weak.

"I said talk. Don't ask questions." Dark crosses his arms as well, trying to defy the Doctor. Dr. Iplier is almost amused at how much a fool Dark is being right now.

Dr. Iplier reaches into his pocket and pulls out the piece of paper. "Before you start attacking me, let me just say one thing." He looks back up at Dark. To anyone else, Dark would seem completely calm in this situation, but the Doctor can tell that he's furious with him. But, just he said, the Doctor has the power here. "What is Will going to think if he finds out you're planning to kill Mark?"

Dark stares at the page in the Doctor's hand, then looks up at him. "Here's a better question: what is Will going to think when he finds your body parts scattered around building? Because, I know him very well, and I think he'd enjoy one less traitor running around here."

Dr. Iplier can't help but laugh. "I'm the traitor? You're the one who's planning to kill everyone who lives here. That includes you and Will. Let me just tell you, Dark, from a professional doctor, that you're completely delusional."

Dark takes a deep breath to calm down. He's not going to play into the Doctor's tricks of trying to get him to crack. "You snuck into my room, stole a page from my book, and now your barging in here, talking to me as if you know everything. You, Doctor, don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about. Just to inform you, I'm not tethered to that selfish, deceiving idiot like you are. You may be confined to this place, but Wilford and I certainly are not. If I kill Mark, all that does is benefit me. And what are you going to do to stop me? Go on whining to Will about how your insignificant life is in danger?" Dark chuckles. "Why don't you take your fake medical degree and that silly voice in your head, and leave." He points at the door, fed up with the Doctor's skewed logic.

Dr. Iplier is so close to yelling at Dark, but holds himself back with everything he's got. It's not worth it. But, how can he just let this arrogant fool ridicule him? "Doctor, we should go. You don't tell me what to do, Nurse!" He yells out unintentionally. The room is left in uncomfortable silence as the Doctor attempts to compose himself. He made a mistake by having that outburst; Dark wanted to break him before broke Dark, and he succeeded. Now the Doctor seems like he was in way over his head.

"You should listen to her, Doctor. If you stay here any longer, things are not going to turn out well for you. I can assure you that." Dark walks up to the Doctor and rips the crumpled page out of his hands. The Doctor immediately leaves with nothing left say. Dark closes the door behind him and then turns to walk back to his desk while unfolding the page in his hands.

On the page is scribbled words of two people trying to get their thoughts down at the same time. The writing is almost unintelligible, which makes Dark wonder how the Doctor managed to decipher it. Dark sits down and sets the page at the end of his desk on top of a stack of other notebooks. Most of the time, Dark is able keep himself composed, but every once in a while, he cracks. When that happens, it's impossible to think and he has to write his thoughts down, but that's going to have to change now that the Doctor knows about his writing habits.

He just hopes that he can keep Damien and Celine's quarrels inside his head.