The Dark Mark (Mark/Dark/Wilford/Google x Reader)

20

Watching from the sidelines was soul-destroying. It hurt. Every single little thing that happened was agony, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. A mere consciousness in the abyss he'd been thrust into, he was completely powerless. He could only watch as his world was pulled apart. He could only watch as the things he loved most were abused and beaten and ruined... he could only watch. 

Every day, week and month that passed, Mark wished more and more that Dark had just killed him to spare him the pain. 

**

Dark settled himself at the head of the table, smiling at his guests. To his left, Y/N sat, looking resplendent in an elegant evening gown. To his right, Wilford sat, a smug, shit-eating grin on his lips. Google sat beside Y/N, and opposite him to Wilford's right, sat a doctor, dressed in a grey cashmere jumper and brown chinos. Dr Iplier had never met Y/N before, but Dark wanted a second opinion on something. 

"Thank you all for joining Y/N and I this evening," Dark said softly. "I hope you'll all enjoy the dinner which has been prepared. The chef is French, I believe. Christophe Dupont. He's quite a name among those who know." 

"I'm sure the food will be excellent, Dark," Dr Iplier said softly, smiling at Y/N. Dark noticed. He glared at the man a little, and took a hold of Y/N's hand. He worked his magic to make her forget there were others in the room, and only when she'd shivered silently through a rather gentle climax did he kiss her knuckles and smile at her gently. Wilford watched, envious. 

All of a sudden, an unbearably loud scream erupted in Dark's ears, and he stood, clutching his head. 

"SHUT UP!" he roared. "STOP IT IMMEDIATELY!" The dinner guests around the table looked at him, perplexed and a little stunned at his outburst. Dark looked at each of them, his chest heaving. "Who was that?! Answer for it now and I'll go easy on you!"

"Dark... it wasn't anything... what happened? Nothing happened?" Wilford looked a little concerned for the demon. "Are you alright, lad?"

"I... there was a screaming..." Dark shook his head, and hesitantly took his seat. As soon as he began to talk again, the screaming erupted again, this time louder and longer. Dark stood again, clutching his head. Y/N stood and placed a hand on his arm. 

"Dark? Are you alright? Do you need something?!" she was concerned for him, her eyes soft, words gentle. "What do you need?" Dark looked around the table. 

"Excuse me for a moment, please," he muttered, stalking from the room. What happened next shook him to the core. His mind was taken over briefly, enough to give him an image of the bathroom upstairs. Dark made his way there, anger radiating from him. 

When he reached the bathroom, he stood in front of the mirror and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Mark stood in front of him, looking only slightly older. Five years had passed, after all. Dark licked his lips and glared at him. "What do you want?"

"Watching you give my life away like that..."

"Wilford is the boy's father."

"You swore to me that you'd raise him well. You're giving him away!"

"He is not my child, Mark, nor is he your child. He is Wilford's child. The natural pink hair makes that obvious. Now, are you going to tell me how you did that back there?"

"Did what?" Mark folded his arms. His turn to glare now. 

"The screaming, Mark, don't toy with me."

"I had to get your attention somehow. And I won't tell you how I did it until you allow Y/N to raise the child she brought into this world... but then, you can't be trusted to do that, can you?"