Markiplier: REBOOT

Episode 22: The Other Side of the Road

This episode is dedicated to one of my good friends, the Pumbaa to my Timon, Jessica. She's been going through a lot of rough times lately but she has never ceased to amazed me with her integrity, her kindness, and her will to laugh even when she's in tears and her world is crumbling around her. So, if you could give her a shining moment, please give my dear Pumbaa a round of applause! She deserves :)

Jess, I love you and never stop being amazing
~Timon

Episode 22: The Other Side of the Road

This chapter was inspired by the songs/playlists listed below:

The Other Side of the Road by Unknown Artist

Be Gone Dull Cage by Kiev

Freedom by Anthony Hamilton and Elayna Boynton

Awesome Mix Vol 1 from Guardians of the Galaxy 

*pretend as if this is two weeks before Christmas by the end of the chapter, so December 11th, 2014. That was when this episode was supposed to be released. ALSO! The drawing of the promise ring was something of my creation. Sherlock got me a tablet as an early Christmas present and I decided to teach myself some Tengwar Script! It IS the ring that is described later on in the story. Hope you likey!*

(Queue Music)

It has been quite some time since Mark and I found ourselves on the floor. It was about a month ago, if I was being exact. That night had been exhausting, both mentally and physically.  The tears and emotions were plenty, I hadn’t cried that hard in a long time.  Mark and I held each other for what felt like hours, there, on the cold floor, outside of my bathroom.  I drank in the comfort of his strong arms wrapped around my waist as he cried and tried to show him some sort of support with what my small arms could manage.  And since then, things were getting better.  Slowly better.

As any other addict, Mark was having a hard time getting back into the swing of things.  He had a few more relapses which ended in fights and tears.  Although I steeled myself against showing any weakness—I had to be strong for Mark—I spent most of my nights crying, wondering when this hell would end.  We didn’t sleep much together. And it was only when alone that I allowed myself to show weakness

This whole situation wasn’t like how it all started out. It was an old reopened wound that Mark was trying to deal with. He only told me that it was related to his past, to someone whose identity he couldn’t discern. And to watch him go from someone so happy and carefree to someone with the weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders hurt me in so many unfathomable ways.

I couldn’t possibly imagine what he was going through.

Since the beginning of it all, I didn’t sleep much. Especially on the nights were Mark was sleep talking… well, it was more like yelling. I’d creep into his bedroom while his nightmares raged and slide under the covers, wrapping my arms around him. Mark was usually sweating, but that didn’t bother me none. He’d keep his eyes shut, wrap his arms slowly around me and feigned sleep. And I would let him. If I were him, I would too. This last thing I would want was for someone I love to see me suffer so much.

On the best of days, Mark kept mostly to himself. He locked himself away in his room and did what he did best: Putting on a brave face and entertain the people of YouTube. Personally, I wished he would spend more time with me than on the computer. But, if this is what made him happy, I wasn’t going to stop him. It helped him before; maybe it would again.

When he wasn’t locked in his room, Mark would then spend his time at the bar. I long since told him he no longer had to pay rent; that we could share our income, but he insisted otherwise. He mentioned that it would help to keep him busy while he dealt with whatever was driving him to the brink. The idiot even took my shifts, which he also insisted upon. If Mark carried on like this, he would drop of exhaustion. He worked double shifts and, when he was gaming, stayed up until the wee hours of the morning. The guy barely slept but seemed to have an endless amount of energy and no time to spend it on anyone but himself.