More Than a Monster - Vampire!Markiplier x Reader

Delusional

     Ethan was sat on the floor of your bathroom with his back to the wall. There was a reason for this. There must be some logical explanation. But if he really had fainted while drying dishes, he couldn't have opened the first aid kit.

His head was spinning and he was terrified, but he tried to reign in his brain. There must be some rationality, but he looked down and the shirt he was wearing wasn't his own. Something had happened and his mind was denying it, trying to force him to believe he was wrong.

He heard your laugh come from downstairs. You. If he was right, if he hadn't dreamt it, you were in danger. Mark was lying to you. He was lying to all of them. It was too much. Everything was too much. His chest was tight.

"Ethan?" You knocked on the door. Your voice was soft and comforting, laced with concern. "Ethan, are you okay? You've been in there a while."

He tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs failed him.

"Is Mark with you?" He asked, voice shaking.

"No." You said. "I can go get him if you want."

"No!" He jumped to his feet and opened the door, pulling you in before you could react.

"Is something wrong?" You asked. His hands were clutching your shoulders tight.

"(Y/n), if I ask you a question, will you answer it honestly?" He asked. His eyes were frenzied and he looked panicked.

"Um, yeah, I guess." You said.

"Has Mark ever hurt you?"

"Ethan, what the fuck!?" You asked. Definitely should have called the ambulance.

"Answer me!"

He was going crazy. "No, of course not! He's your best friend, Ethan, stop acting like-"

"Please, you have to believe me. He attacked me, he bit me, (Y/n), he drank my blood!" He shouted in desperation.

"I think you should see a doctor, Ethan. Something's wrong." You said seriously.

"No, I swear!" He turned around and pointed to your first aid kit which was, for some reason, open on the counter. "I cut my hand on a knife I was drying, and I came in here to bandage it. I left it open! Nobody else could have opened it!"

"That doesn't mean-"

He whipped around and grabbed your shoulders again, tighter this time. "Look at my shirt! It's Mark's, right? Not mine. I'm not wearing my shirt."

"You think that's proof that Mark drank your blood?" You asked.

"He did!" Ethan shouted.

"Ethan, your hand isn't even cut. You're fine." You said. "You probably hit your head when you fainted."

"Okay, maybe he didn't drink my blood, but something isn't adding up," He admitted. "What if Mark did do something to me? I don't want you to get hurt, (Y/n)!"

"Would you feel better if we asked him?" You said. "Ethan, you're hurting me-"

He let go of your shoulders. "I'm sorry. Something definitely happened." He said.

You sighed. "Come on, let's go talk to him, I'm sure it's fine."

He reluctantly followed you downstairs. Mark was sitting on the couch on his phone. Ethan's stomach flipped when he saw that Amy, Tyler, and Kathryn had already left.

Mark looked up from his phone when he saw you two sit down. "Something wrong?" He asked, smiling.

You glanced at Ethan, who was paler than usual. He was clearly not going to speak. "Ethan's convinced that you did something to him."

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it wasn't for the color to drain from Mark's face. He laughed. "Ethan?" He asked. Ethan looked mortified. His hands were visibly shaking. "I didn't hurt you; you passed out-"

"Why am I wearing your shirt? Why was your first aid kit open?" Ethan asked. He glanced down. "You changed your shirt too."

You raised an eyebrow. "Actually, he's right; you were wearing a black shirt at dinner."

Mark shrugged you off. "I stained it during dinner." He said. "And why you're wearing my shirt is beyond me." He chuckled.

Ethan began to look angry. "Why won't you believe me?! (Y/n), you're in danger."

You rested a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't we go see a doctor? Maybe a professional can figure out what's going on here."

He shot up. "No!" He ran a hand through his hair. "Forget it. I'm going home."

"Let me drive-" Mark rose to join him.

"No fucking way!" Ethan protested.

"Be sensible. You're in no state to drive. Really you should be going to see a doctor." Said Mark. "We can talk some things out in the car."

You gave Ethan a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine. You can call me if anything goes wrong."

"Fine," Ethan saw he wasn't going to win this. "The majority of serial killers know their victims." He added in a mumble.

"Yeah, because I'm sure Mark has a good reason to kill you." You rolled your eyes.

Mark shrugged lightheartedly. "What can I say? I'm jealous of all his subscribers."

You laughed, but Ethan looked just as uncomfortable as before. You sighed. "Look at it this way: if you die, I'll know Mark did it." You said.

Mark grabbed the keys to Ethan's car. "Let's go."

Ethan, with one final fearful glance at you, followed Mark into his car.

"So," Said Mark, turning the key when they were inside. "We have a lot to talk about."