Remembrance (Markiplier X Reader)

Chapter 6: It's Not Time

He let go of you, looking at you with eyes that were pools of tears. But he looked a little better. You gave him a reassuring smile. You watched as he walked away to his own room.

You laid down in the bed, listening to nothing. Then you heard a soft sobbing noise. You slowly got up, feeling awful. Why did you have to lose your memory? You walked towards the door of Mark's room, which was cracked, and saw him looking at a picture. You couldn't tell what the picture was, but you could tell he was in deep pain just from looking at it.

It had been a couple of days later, and Mark was going to drive you to the doctor. On your way up there everything was quiet. Neither one of you said a word. He would just stare at the road blankly. You looked out the window, watching as the buildings passed by the window.

He pulled into the hospital and walked with you inside. You got back to a room, the doctor following immediately behind, "Are you remembering anything?" He asked.

You only shook your head. But then you said, "Well, actually I've remembered a little bit. I remembered Mark's favorite color and a few other things."

"It is good you're making progress," he turned to Mark, "Does she know yet?"

Mark shook his head, sniffling a little. The doctor only shook his head. "What are you two talking about?" You were confused.

"It would be better if you knew when you remembered more..." the doctor explained.

You were itching to know what had happened that you didn't know about. But they didn't tell you. On the way back you asked Mark about it but he ignored the question.

That night, you saw picture frames that were hung up, but they didn't have pictures in them. You thought that it must have had to do with what you didn't know. You saw others that were of you and Mark, but right now you were more curious about the empty frames.

So you scouted the house while he was recording. You looked everywhere, the kitchen, the living room. Really the only place left was his room. But it made you feel bad to go through his private things, even though technically everything that was his was yours...

You slowly walked in his room, looking at the mess. It was the only room that was a total disaster. You looked at the dresser and saw a picture of Mark with you. You were at what seemed to be like a field. It seemed like a professional photo. You looked around, clothes were on the ground, the bed was unmade, etc.

Then, you saw a small stack of turned over photos. You made your way over to the stack. Right as you were fixing to turn it over, you felt someone touch your shoulder and you shrieked. You spun around and saw Mark grabbing the pictures. His face looked weary, "I can't let you see those, (f/n)."

"Why? What is so important that I can't know about it?" You told him, getting frustrated.

"(F/n), it's not time. It's just not. It will be too much..."