Angst Soup For The Soul

this is a oneshot why does this need a title fuck you wattpad fuck you fuck yo

Fun fact: Mark says "fuck" out loud 14 separate times in this fic. In case you were wondering

And I would like to reiterate: this is a very triggering story. If you are triggered by suicide, self harm, or death, I would very much recommend not reading this. Please stay safe.

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Mark was woken up by his phone ringing. Which wasn't weird in and of itself, per se, it's just that he went to sleep hours ago and he wasn't exactly appreciating being jolted away from dreamland. 

He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and checking the caller ID. 

Incoming call from: 
that blue bitch 

ACCEPT     DECLINE

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, sitting up further as he looked down at the phone in his hand. That was Ethan. And it was… he glanced over at the clock on his nightstand-- 11:32 pm. Ethan never really called, and he especially didn't call in the middle of the night. This was probably an accident, but hey, it wouldn't hurt to pick up, right?

Mark accepted the call, rubbing his face as he tried to wake up just a bit more. "Hey, Eth. Is there a reason you called me at eleven thirty, or can I go back to bed now?"

The was shuffling on the other side of the phone that stopped abruptly. "Oh." Ethan's voice cut through the silence, surprisingly quiet. "I, uh, I didn't think you'd pick up."

"Neither did I, but here we are." Mark chuckled softly. He slipped out of bed and into the hall, not wanting to wake up Amy with a conversation that he could feel was going to take a while. "What's up, buddy?"

"It's- it's nothing, sorry for waking you up. Go back to bed, Mark."

"Ah, no can do on that, I'm already out and about now. C'mon, dude, just spill. If you're missing me again, I'm totally willing to stay up with you for a while, just you know." Mark was well aware that quarantine was affecting Ethan, and definitely not in any good ways. He was incredibly vocal about how much he missed his friends, how much he missed everyone, really, in real life and online. 

"No, it's not-- I mean…" Ethan sounded so tired. "I guess it kind of started with that. I was trying to leave a voicemail, that's all."

Mark frowned at that. "And… why, exactly, did you want to leave a voicemail?"

"So you have something to remember me by!" Ethan was sounding more and more tired by the second, but managed a giggle nonetheless. "But I'll… I'll just write or something, I was going to do that for everyone else, too. Or something. I would have written something earlier, but I didn't exactly mean for this to happen. I just… I wanted to feel something, you know? But I, uh, I kind of fucked up. I fuck up everything, don't I? Sorry about that."

"You don't have anything to apologize for, man. Are you ok?" 

Ethan ignored him. "I don't really have time to write anything now though, I don't think. I don't think I even really had time for this call, actually, I just went for the last name in my contacts." 

Mark took that in. Something about what Ethan was saying didn't feel right, not at all, but the older man wasn't able to pinpoint exactly what it was. "Ethan?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you have enough time for this call, exactly?"

"Because…" There was some more shuffling on Ethan's side again, then it stilled. "Nothing. Because nothing. Like my brain! My brain's a big fat nothing, you know that Mark?"