Overridden: A Googleplier X Child! Reader X Bingsepticeye (Complete)

Chapter Twenty-One

The male pulled up to Dark, eating a thing of fries from a fast food bag. That was when he saw the child in his arms. He paled, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Um. Dark...?" He watched as the dark haired male opened the back door, setting the duffel, and child in. "Dark?"

Dark entered the car in the passengers seat, adjusting his jacket. "Drive."

The male grew even more tense. "Dark, you said you were picking something up from Google, not a child," this was so not the plan. Where was Google, anyway? What was going on?

"Chase," Dark turned a stone-cold glare to him. "Drive."

Chase tensed, but nodded, putting the car into drive. The rest of the car ride was silent, and he figured Dark would only get angry if he started eating more fries. He refrained from giving Dark his burger. That wouldn't go over well for him, in fact, he was sure he'd find himself with a broken finger. 

It wasn't too long before Chase slowed down beside Mark's home, or... what used to be his home. It was now Dark's seeing as he sorta took over, for the time being. Chase wasn't too worried, though. Dark had his own agenda, and he seemed pretty harmless... besides the fact that he has a child for some reason. Chase glanced back to the child when Dark got out, surprised they were still sleeping. Did... Dark do something? Chase shook his head. No, he said he was picking something up from Google. They were probably just tired. Really, really tired.

"See you later, D-!" Chase was cut off with the shutting of the car door. He sighed, then put the car back into drive, and turned around, onto the main road. He'll call later.

Dark, striding towards the front door, held (Y/N) with one arm, his bag slung over the other shoulder. He pulled out the key for the house with his free hand, and unlocked the door before striding in, Chica bounding over happily at the sight of her "owner". Setting the bag down, he gaze the soft pup a quick pat before setting (Y/N) down on the couch, letting Chica sniff and lick at their arm. They shifted, but didn't wake.

Tapping his thigh, Dark had the distant thought that maybe he used to much, or, more than likely, had them inhale too much. The latter seemed more logical. He spun on his heel, then decided to get prepared, grabbing each tool he needed, cleaning up the work space in Mark's spare room. It was hard to make videos, pretending to be Mark, all stupid, and happy with the brown eyes and tanned skin when all you wanted to do was see the fandom turn on each other. But, he couldn't let people suspect anything, not yet, at least. All of that was in due time.

With the table ready, and straps in place, Dark turned to the work bench of his, making sure each instrument was clean and ready, the syringe full of his inky black blood laying at the very end. It was completely full, but would be used in several parts of the body. First, it needs to be put into the blood stream, for the heart to properly pump it throughout the body. Putting in too much would result in shock, and possible cardiac arrest. He'd have to be careful that that. Next, the throat. That was to allow the substance to enter the lungs and spread out evenly. She would suffocate if he entered it directly into the lungs, though it would be faster to do so.

With a sigh, he strode back down the steps, ruffling Chica's fur when she met him at the bottom, panting. She was a relatively calm dog, though still demanded walks. He didn't mind too much, they did walks during the night. What was harder was getting Mark's friend to not request collabs. He couldn't do that, that was too much concentration for him. After giving Chica some well deserved pets, he strode over to the couch, and froze. The child...

Spinning on his heel, and started rushing around the house, searching for them. They'd be groggy, at least, clumsy. It shouldn't be too hard to find them. In theory.

Glancing around the house as he searched, he hummed gently. "(Y/N). I do not have time to play hide-and-go-seek. I am not going to hurt you, so please, do come out, and I will explain everything."

Of course, it wasn't that easy. Stopping, Dark shut his eyes as he became irritated, running a hand through his dark hair. A child would find somewhere to hide. He knew they had not left, the doors out were a little squeaky, and seemed to be quite loud, even when trying to shut it silently. He hadn't heard them open, or close. That narrowed down the search quite a bit, but he didn't want to be upstairs, and hear the door open, then have to rush down only to see it wide open. That would be horrible for his reputation.

So, where would a child hide? That was the big questions. He knew children liked playing games, such as tag, or capture the flag. He's been witness to children playing in parks before, several times. Why not make this a game? He had time, and Google was busy destroying Bing, and when he was done, he'd move on to the closest living, breathing thing in the area. It was quite simple, preparing that virus, disguised as an update. He was worried it would be rejected, or sifted through, destroying the virus before he actually downloaded the update. Fortunately for him, though, Google didn't even bother to check.

Adjusting his tie, Dark cleared his throat. "(Y/N)? I know you can hear me. Let's play a game, alright? I'm going to wait here, with my eyes shut, for ten full seconds. When I open my eyes, I have to find you. No leaving the house," he quickly added, nodding his head. This would go well. When they moved, he would hear them, and quickly go to where he heard them. "If I can't find you in one minute, you win, and I will take you back to Google and Bing," pausing, he allowed that to sink in. "But if I find you within that minute, and I'll count aloud, then I get to explain to you what is happening, and go along with my plans," turning on his heel, Dark shut his eyes, facing the wall. "One," he started. "Two. Three."

The patter of feet above him. Strange... They must've slipped by.

"Four. Five. Six."

The small click of a door shutting.

"Seven. Eight."

The shuffling of something.

"Nine."

Settling down.

"Ten," spinning on his heel again, he faced the stairs. "Ready or not," he called, striding for them. "Here I come."