Insteresting.

Broken (Demon!Dean Imagine)

Pairing: Dean/Reader

Rating: PG 13 for heartbreak

"No."

"Sam, I'm not a child. I can do this."

"No. You're not going in there."

"Well, why do you have to do it? What makes you more qualified than me?"

"I'm his brother."

"I'm his girlfriend. Have been for three years."

Sam sighed and looked down at his shuffling feet. The bunker was quiet, and felt almost suffocating today. There was a table covered in empty coffee mugs, and a dungeon that was all too full.

This was the third time you and Sam had had this debate, and you were determined to win, close to tears or not. When he finally looked up and nodded, you blinked.

"You're gonna let me do it?"

He gave a very weary smile. "Like you said, you're not a kid. And...Maybe you would be better."

He was nearly knocked over by the tight hug you gave him, and stroked your hair.

One... Two...

Breathe.

Three.

You slid the door open slowly, the creak and groan of metal filling the silence. Not looking up from the ground, you came into the room.

There was the sound of movement, a moment of surprised hesitation, then...a laugh. And it wasn't his laugh.

"I was wondering when Sammy would let you down here, (Y/N)."

You tried very hard not to wince at your name in that mocking tone, eyes still glued to the ground as you shut the door and went to the small silver table with the roll of syringes.

"Aw, you're gonna drug me up. Baby, that's adorable-"

"Don't call me baby." You could almost feel him smile; it made your skin crawl.

"Why not? You love it when I call you baby."

"I love when Dean calls me baby."

"I am Dean. Just-"

"You say a newer model and I'll punch you in the goddamn face." He chuckled.

You picked up a syringe, and a needle. Put the two together. Started to roll up your sleeve.

"You know you can't fix me, right?"

"Watch me."

"Well," he shuffled again, relaxing into the chair a bit, "you can make me human again, sure. But you can never fix me. I'll always be broken. I was when I met you, I was before I got the Mark, I was when I was human and had it. This is the closest to whole and happy I've ever been."

"Shut up." It was practically a whisper.

But he kept on, and the words hurt worse than the needle in your skin.

"See, now I'm not worried about anything. I don't care if Sammy dies, or Cas. I don't care if you die-"

"Shut. Up."

"-I wouldn't feel a bit of guilt, even with your blood on my hands. Actually, that'd be kinda fun. Chasing you around, hunting you down-"

You pulled the needle out sharply and stalked over to him, jabbing it in mercilessly. He hissed and fought, crying out as you pushed in the plunger and the blood flooded his system again. As you walked back over to the table, he began to scream.

"Why the hell are you even trying?! This won't work! It can't, and I don't want it to! Why does it matter what happens to me?!"

"Because I can't lose you, and I won't, even if I have to go to Hell and back again. Because Dean Winchester, I love you, and I won't stop until you're human or I'm dead."

As you walked out, you kept your eyes fixed on the door, trying desperately to ignore the tears blinding you at least until that door was shut behind you again. To your surprise, he said nothing else, and the only sound from him was heavy, ragged breathing.

You didn't look back as you shut the door, but if you had, you would have seen the demon staring at you, face slack with shock, frozen.

Just for a moment, right before the door closed, he moved forward, and opened his mouth as if to speak.

And there was a flash of green in those black eyes.

Do You Trust Me? Pt. 2

A/N: So this is the second part to the fic that I wrote yesterday. I’m still working on the name, so it may change. If you have suggestions, I’ll gladly take them.

Link to part one: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155650933267/pizsospa-cmon-little-dude-you-can-trust-me

"You alright?" "I'm fine, I'm fine. You? Did he hurt you?" "No, no, I'm-" Jack screamed and collapsed...

"Now, I'm thinking," Jack muttered as he hooked the camera up to the computer and fiddled with it, "That I know what we need to do. It's not gonna be easy to get there, but I think we need to go see a friend of mine. He'll probably know how to get you out of here, he's done it before. Just once, mind you, but he's done it." "I'm not the first one to get here?" You took a few steps toward Jack but he stopped you. "What are you doing, by the way?" "Making sure this particular port doesn't close. Camera shuts off, port closes, so I'm plugging in the camera. I don't want you stepping on cable." You shook your head. Sure, why not? It's not like anything else made sense. "Okay then...so who're we going to see?" "Just a friend," Jack said, glancing over with a smile, "I thought it'd be nice to surprise you." You finally managed to return his smile, and he laughed. "There it is! Yeah!" You chuckled. "So, how do we get to him? Can you drive?" "Well...not exactly. That's, uh...not quite how travel works here." He stood, apparently satisfied with his work, and walked over to the door, motioning for you to follow him.

Had you not been right behind him when he opened the door, he probably wouldn't have heard the small gasp you let out. It was the only sound you could manage to make. It was beautiful, in a strange way. Lines and lines and lines of code, stretching out like a floor, bright, fluorescent green on a pitch black background, without a sky, without actual ground. A few yards to either side of you were walls of more code, 0s and 1s stretching up in jagged, flat topped sections, as if you were standing at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Farther on in the distance was what seemed to be a mountain, or a large hill, still of the same code. Everything looked like it was moving, with the code scrolling and occasionally blinking red. "Whadda ya think?" Jack grinned. And the first thing you could think to say was, "It's definitely not Ireland." That made him laugh. "No, no, no Ireland here." "Are we just gonna...walk the whole way?" "Yep!" And walk he did, you trailing numbly behind him, staring up at the walls. "But it's not all that long. This being my territory, I know a few shortcuts. Base of that mountain? There's a hole in the code I use to get to my friend sometimes. Cuts the trip in half, no problem." "Uh huh." Far above you, sections of code seemed to be flying. Jack followed your glance and nodded at them. "Messages. They're heading to my hub, the computer in there. And then I get to read them." "From us?" He nodded, smiling widely. "And...you read all of them?" "Every single one!" That put a smile on your face. Jack could guess why. "Should I expect one from you?" "...yeah. A couple, actually. Just...doodles." "I love doodles!" He clapped happily. You giggled. "You actually do that. That's awesome."

You walked a while, Jack occasionally pointing things out and explaining them. You managed to guess on your own that the red text was something being edited or deleted, which Jack seemed proud of you for. Once, a message flew a bit too low and Jack ducked too hard and fell. You helped him up once you finished laughing. "Here we go!" Jack said finally, as you paused to look at the code of the mountain's base up close. "Wait here a minute while I find it, yeah?" "Yep," you waved him off. This line of code wasn't moving like the others, and was a little bit duller. Old, you supposed. You wondered what it coded for. A message? A tweet? What if it was a picture? Absently, you put your hand out to trace a zero, and jumped back in surprise when a picture popped up, hologram style. It was a picture of Jack and a fan, with white text under it, reading, "LOOK WHO I MET IN THE SHOPS THE OTHER DAY!!!!!!!!! @therealjacksepticeye". Above it was a tumblr url. "How'd you do that?" Jack had wandered back over, and seemed more interested than concerned. "I just touched it." "Really? No commands or anything? Huh," Jack nodded, then squeezed your shoulders. "I guess bein' real makes you more powerful. Cool. C'mon, let's go." "More powerful," you scoffed as you followed him over to a gap in the wall, and squeezed into it behind him. The ground here was narrow, but not narrow enough to worry you. If you stayed in the middle, even the clumsiest person could walk it safely. There were doors are fairly regular intervals along the walkway, and you figured you were headed toward one of them. "Yeah, more powerful," Jack turned to look at you with mock sternness. "And you won't convince me otherwise." "Does it make me more of a boss than you?" "Now that's crossing the line." "But I've got more power. Ie, more of a boss." "Shut your whore mouth!" "Dickhead!" "Bastard!" It was amazing how comfortable you were with each other. Dreams, you supposed, made it easier to make friends. You were both laughing so hard that you didn't notice the strange, dark green code until Jack was almost standing on it. You had just enough time to say, "Jack, what's tha-?" before screaming. A hand erupted out of the ground, the same strange green as the weird code, and grabbed Jack, slamming him into the ground. He fell with a shouted, "MOTHER FUCKER", and suddenly the hand became a torso and a head, with neon green hair and eyes, fanged, manic grin coming right for you. You fell backward, screaming again as Anti grabbed your shoulders. It hurt, a surprising amount, as if you were getting electrocuted. You struggled, your muscles convulsing horribly, out of your control. He was stronger than you'd thought he'd be. He started to laugh, the maniacal, glitching laugh you remembered from the videos. "Get off them!" Anti was suddenly jerked off of you, rolling with Jack a short way away, but you were too focused on the fact that you were falling. "JACK!" You scrambled to grab the edge, and then you were swinging wildly, feet kicking above the vast, empty void under the walkway. Wordless screams of terror fought to get out of your throat, but that wouldn't help, so you held them back to just whimpers. You could hear fighting over you, glitched yells from Anti and curses galore from Jack. There was a loud thunk, and Jack's face appeared over you. He grabbed your arms and started to pull you up, straining. "Hold on!" "WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M FUCKING DOING?!" "JUST FUCKING HOLD ON!" You managed to get your torso back on solid ground, and Jack let go as you swung your legs up, standing back to give you room. "You alright?" "I'm fine, I'm fine. You? Did he hurt you?" "No, no, I'm-" Jack screamed and collapsed as Anti's hand closed around his arm. And then his arm began to glitch and blink red. "NO!" You shoved, holding onto Jack. Anti looked as surprised as you did when he slid back along the platform, chest glowing red. But Jack's grunts of pain brought you out of your stuper, and you pulled him up and started to run, barreling toward a door, any door. Anti screamed again, running after you, but he was slower now, you'd injured him. "YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME!" "SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!" Jack yelled back hoarsely as the two of you fell through a door.

You thumped onto a platform, and, standing, slowly, you saw that you were apparently on the side of the moutain, quite far up, and possibly on the other side. Jack closed the gap behind you. It looked like he drew code up from the mountain to cover it, weakly tapping bits and pieces of it to get it to go where he wanted. And then he slumped to lie down flat, breathing heavily. "You okay?" You knelt next to him, hands hovering over his still-red arm. It wasn't glitching anymore, which you supposed was good. "Not really," he muttered, trying to shrug and wincing, "But you are. So job done." "Job not done! Can I help? What's wrong with it?" "Not sure you can. Anti's corrupted my coding a little. Not enough for anything horrible, I don't think. But it'll hurt to use that arm for a bit." He managed a half smile. "I think I'll manage fine." You studied the faint red writing, thinking. "I think it's worse than You're saying." Jack shrugged with his good shoulder and you shot him a sharp look before looking back at the injury. "But...Jack...back there, I hit Anti. With something. I don't know. But it turned him red. Maybe I can...I can do it the other way?" He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. "I guess. Not a lot to lose. 'Cept my arm, of course. But I might loose it anyway, so that's fine. Go for it." Great. Thanks for the confidence. You hesitantly put your hand on his arm. When Anti had attacked him, all you'd thought of was getting rid of him. So what would happen if you thought of saving Jack? Just bringing him back and making sure he's alright. He had done so much for you already, making you smile on your worst days, offering you support and hope and a place to belong. You'd always hated seeing him hurt, always wanted desperately to just be able to reach through the screen and give him a hug, make it all better. His arm slowly started to fade back to normal. Jack stared at it, fascinated. When it was normal again, he flexed it, and seemed dumbfounded that it didn't hurt him to do so. "Thanks..." "N-No problem." You honestly hadn't expected that to work. And you weren't sure how it did. You laid down flat beside him, both of you letting out sighs of relief. Without saying a word, you agreed to take a quick break from travelling.

It occured to you suddenly that you'd felt pain back there. And stupid as that sounds...pain meant this wasn't a dream. All of this was real. And Jack had really saved your life. And you were really stranded in a bizarre internet world, with very little chance of getting home. You didn't realize you were crying until Jack scooted over to you and pulled you onto his chest, putting an arm around you. Suddenly, you were sobbing, and you couldn't stop. Jack just rubbed your back and held you. "It's alright. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." You stayed like that for a long time. Just you, and this digital man, in this empty part of the Web.

Who Killed Markiplier: Mini Update

Lots of people are throwing around the idea of Damien being Dark, and of the Colonel being Wilford. And other people are saying that Who Killed Markiplier could be an origin story for the Egos. Lemme just say, I would love for this to be true. I would love for Mark to have concocted some elaborate backstory for his sides.But I think it’s highly unlikely. I really don’t think the Egos are involved at all (The Jims excepted, of course.)

However, I still love the thought. I would gladly read fanfic of this exact scenario.

Like he gets so salty and bitter when it gets close to Christmas and none of the other egos can work out why

He just haaates it so much, and everyone’s like “yeah typical.” lol

I almost feel like Wilford would be the one who doesn’t necessarily look out for cc considering he doesn’t want to cross dark, but he’ll do little things to try and make things a little more bearable

He slips him sweets and stuff (which is a nice thought but he doesn’t eat. he still appreciates it though), he chats with him when Dark’s out of the house, sends Google to take care of upgrades and things, always very specific about his instructions so that Google can’t mess with him. He also talks to Dark occasionally about letting him go, but hasn’t succeeded on that front yet.

Who Killed Markiplier? Here’s What Happened.

Guys, it’s been a long road, and we’re not even close to done yet. But based on all the previous evidence, I’ve come up with something of a story line/theory. I present to you, good people of the internet and the Markiplier fandom, who I think killed Markiplier:

THE PAST

Mark, the Colonel, and Damien were all childhood friends. Mark and Damien started with the same social status, very middle class, but the Colonel comes from an old military family with lots of money and power, which is why he inherits the manor. They stayed friends as they grew older and gained status, Damien through politics, the Colonel through the army, and Mark through the entertainment industry, though to keep himself afloat, he moves in with the Colonel. (Based on the pictures, "I will not be called a murderer in my own home!", and the Colonel's initial theory.)

At some point, they were introduced to Celine, and she became fast friends with them all. They all developed feelings for her, and tried to impress her in various ways, but Mark went the farthest. Unbeknownst to any of them, he made a deal with a larger force for her heart, which angered both Damien and the Colonel. But while Damien wanted to keep his friendships in tact, the Colonel, always the most firey of the three, had a massive argument with Mark, insisting that the fame had gone to his head. Mark wouldn't explain the deal, and so the fight gets so bad that the Colonel is kicked out of his own home by Mark, who's now under the force's influence, and drops out of touch with Mark and Celine. Damien can't pick a side, so stays in touch with both of them. (Based on George the Groundskeeper’s speech about why he won’t enter the manor, the Possession, the Colonel and Damien's argument, and the pictures.)

It was shortly after this that Celine and Damien discovered what Mark had done. Damien wanted to keep it quiet, per his aspirations for office and the bad publicity it would cause both him and Mark, but Celine was disgusted, and left them both to find answers on her own. Damien and Mark stayed friends, but were more distant than they had been. This is where we come in. We befriend Damien and Mark sometime after all of this, and are never told about it. Damien rises to the position of Mayor, Mark grows more famous, and we're appointed DA. (Based on our invitation, our not knowing the Colonel previously, "I don't need anyone's help, especially yours," Celine's occult interests and Damien's reactions to them, and the pictures.)

THE PRESENT

Now the deal Mark made had to have some provisions. Maybe one of them was a time constraint. He had 15 years to enjoy his fame, and then the being would come to collect his end of the bargain, and maybe Mark didn't know what the reprocussions would be. When the day was coming up, however, Mark knew he wanted to see all of his friends one last time, so he invited them back to the manor, on the pretext of a poker night. Celine refused, but had a bad feeling about it, and too late decided to come and warn her old friends. Damien of course accepted, and managed to convince the Colonel to come back. We accepted, thinking nothing of it. Mark also invites the Detective, less as a friend, though he was one, albeit not as close, but more as a precaution, needing to know that his staff was trustworthy and wouldn't be suspected, no matter what, and knowing that there would likely be some kind of crime to investigate later, when he either died or disappeared. (Based on the Detective's speech about knowing Mark, the security footage, "I might be dead tomorrow," Celine knowing the party is happening, the Colonel appearing voluntarily and in a decent mood.)

In the night, after all the festivities are over, everyone goes to bed, except for the Colonel, who's still mad as hell, and very drunk, and very vulnerable. The Force strikes, using the Colonel as a vessel, and fights with and eventually kills Mark, then goes dormant. It stays in him until it's summoned out by Celine the next night. (Based on the party montage, the finding of the body, the Colonel's behavior in Chapter 2, and the Possession.)

But remember guys, this is just a theory. It’s not set in stone, and it doesn’t explain everything. I would love to hear what you guys think, and what I might have missed, and I can’t wait for Chapter 4 tomorrow.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Extras: The Bedroom The Audio Clip The Tumblr Teasers (1, 2, 3, 4)

You know what I want? A temporary, heartbreaking Damien return. Dark’s about to kill us but is stopped by the part of him that is still Damien. Before he can kill it for good, Damien regains control briefly and saves us, promising that he really did want to help us, and that he knows he is losing/has lost himself, and he’s so so sorry, old friend, he won’t ask for your forgiveness. But he will spare you now. He tells us to run.

Because he cares.

he cares

An Eternity In Hell (In Space With Markiplier Drabble)

The darkness had stopped eating at him ages ago. He didn’t have a time. There wasn’t really time anymore. Days didn’t start and they didn’t end. There was no morning, no coffee, no evening, no sleep.

He was getting close to being finished. He knew they would be here soon, and that the moment would finally arrive. All the times - the only time, again and again - that he’d seen them arrive. Called out to them only to see their shocked expression melt into nothingness and blue light. Every time - the only time - they were gone in an instant.

He’d been desperate to leave at first. Clawing at the door and banging away at the controls, pulling at panels and, every single time they arrived, he’d jolt toward them, desperate to pull them close and have some kind of comfort again. But still, every time, they slipped out of his reach, and he’d be alone again.

After a while, he ended up curled up in one of the corners. He was utterly alone, and he couldn’t make himself see why he should bother getting up. Moving. He didn’t eat. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t feel like he was aging. He didn’t feel anything at all but the endless exhaustion and terror, the cold floors.

He ran through every endless life then. Every death - jettisoned, suffocated, shot, frozen, burned alive, detonated, stretched beyond physical limitations, eaten, smashed - all of them played out over and over and over again. Sometimes he could feel his bones, old and brittle, and the slowing of his movements. He could see a cafe at the end of everything, getting darker and emptier as the stars around it winked into blackness. 

Every single time, they were there. They led the charge. They send him into danger. They met him at the table. 

They decided. Time after time after time after time, for all time, they decided. 

And it all ended in misery. 

No more. 

He moved, finally. He stood, and pulled panels from the walls. Pulled circuits. Found the emergency tool stash and started building. Rewired the controls to feed into the central hub. Crafted the designs from memory, painstakingly, with aching hands that never got any rest. 

Still they showed up. Again and again, and every time, he had to stop and look. Had to call out. He couldn’t help himself. He built three soaring spires and connected them, used them as a focus and a kind of closed circuit to create a layer of shielding and containment. 

Finally it was done. It had power. It ran and its diagnostics, programmed from scratch, came through at 100% capacity. It was ready.

And there they were, right on schedule. He felt nothing and everything at once as he calmly pulled the extinguisher from the wall and took aim. 

“Hi, Captain.”

(ok one last observation for now then maybe I’m done but-)

When Mark was in the height of his rage, we got this fiery display of sparks and chaos.  

Then, in the post credits scene, we see Damien walking out of the cabin. 

Looking back at this scene, I loved the detail how the grass (which wasn’t there before, another sign of Spring with the flower? To show Winter’s over and that Damien is no longer trapped?) itself is affected by similar red effects.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s emotional insight of what Damien is feeling.

Do You Trust Me? Pt. 5

A/N: THE END.

Link to Pt. 4: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155731272537/do-you-trust-me-pt-4

Link to Pt. 3: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155699231442/do-you-trust-me-pt-3

Link to Pt. 2: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155686403892/do-you-trust-me-pt-2

Link to Pt. 1: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155650933267/pizsospa-cmon-little-dude-you-can-trust-me

"GO! JUST GO! RUN!" You couldn't if you'd wanted to. But you couldn't move to help him either. He screamed again, clutching at his head, doubling over on his knees, his whole body glitching out. "No...NO!" And he collapsed. "JACK!" You ran toward him, all fear and panic, all thought for your own safety gone. You just needed to know he was okay. Your knees thudded sharply against the ground and you cupped his face with your hands. "Jack, please. Please wake up. Please. You can't leave me. You can't leave them. They need you, Jackaboy, c'mon." He grunted weakly and you let out a short sob. "Knew you could...do...it..." He was laughing. And when his eyes opened, they were black.

You scrambled back as he stood, dusting himself off. "Well," Anti said hoarsely, voice still glitchy and pitch-distorted, but growing less so, growing more...human. "That was harder than I thought, honestly. I'll give 'im credit, I didn't think he'd even put up that much of a fight. Still. Not strong enough." "Let. Him. Go." He arched an eyebrow at you and grinned, too wide. "'Let him go'? What, are we playing tag?" He laughed, that high, disturbing giggle. "Oh, I can't just 'let him go', even if I wanted to. He's gone. It's just me in here!" He tapped his temple gleefully, watching you stand as if you were an interesting bug he was about to crush. You felt a sob welling up, but more angry than afraid, you shoved it down and balled your hands into fists. "He's not gone, you disgusting, lying thing." "Thing, huh?" He took a step toward you, and you had just enough courage, or maybe adrenaline, to hold your ground. "Did I get downgraded? Normally it's 'demon' or 'monster'." "You don't even deserve that. You're just...bad data." "'Bad data'!" He laughed again. God, you wished he'd stop that. It was horrifying. "You're gonna have to do better than that." He took another step, and this time you couldn't help but back away. "You idiot," he put his hands in his pockets, steadily moving closer, loving every second of you shrinking away. You gasped when you bumped into the wall behind you, and he got closer. The black of his eyes slowly melted away to reveal neon green irises. He leaned closer still, until he was inches from your face. "You really don't get it, do you? He was the only one with any chance of stopping me. And you? You're a dead fan walking." His smile got impossibly wider in appreciation of his twisted pun. "He can still stop you." Your voice was barely a whisper, and you jumped when he shouted, voice glitching out as his emotions spiked. "HE'S DEAD!"

You took another shaky breath, eyes wandering desperately. And they caught your watch. The stupid, stupid thought that came to your head was, "I'm missing the new video."

Video one was out for today. The video was out... You had the smallest spark of an idea. It was a shot in the dark, but...If you were going to go down, you were going to go down trying.

You met his eyes, hating that they were green, hating that they looked at you with so much glee, and malice. "Jack. Please. You've gotta fight him. I know you can hear me. I know you're there." Anti's arm was suddenly on your neck, and you were scrambling to pull it away. "It's lucky I don't need you conscious," he growled, shoving again, "I just need you breathing. And only long enough to get across." "Jack," you gasped, "think...think about them. Think about...us. We n...we need you." A weak smile. "You're...you're the boss, right?" Anti pushed harder, and it was getting harder and harder to focus. Had you not been trying so damn hard, you might've missed the hesitation. But it was there, and it was enough to give you hope. "What...?" It was barely a grunt, but you caught it. And you choked out a laugh as Anti convulsed, stumbling back. It was his turn to grab his head, green eyes wide in confusion and shock. "No. No, no, no, no, NO!" You'd collapsed to your knees, but you struggled to stand again, one hand going to the wall behind you as you concentrated. "Who's the idiot who assumed you could make Jack go silent? Anti, you don't get it. Sure, the fandom likes you. But there's something Jack's got that you'll never have." "And what's that?" he spat, the end of the sentence turning into a grunt of pain. His arm began glitching slightly, then his leg, then one eye. You smiled coldly. "You're the villain, Anti. In every story, in every video, in every post, you're the villain. But Jack?" Now he was retreating from you. "Jack's our hero." And you turned and slammed your hand against the wall, and it brightened. Suddenly, a picture popped up. It was Jack and a fan, both smiling in excitement. Anti stared at it in confusion, and started glitching out again. He yelled and shut his eyes. "Dammit!" A video popped up next. Jack, at his panel, jumping off the stage amid cheers to hug a fan. His hands went to his ears. "Stop! Stop it! STOP!" A thank you letter, from Tumblr, from a fan whose life Jack'd saved. And then another, and another. More pictures. Fanart. Jack, riding Trico, laughing. Jack, in a striped jumper, with a bright green heart above his head. Jack, yelling as he fell from a Colossus's collapsing body. Jack screaming at Billy as he fell into spikes. The wall was filling with posts from Jack's fans. Video clips, edits, pictures, soundbites, messages, tweets, comments. "Millions of people. Millions. Calling out to Jack to come back to them. They need their hero, and you're not gonna get in their way." "No, no, no, no, NO! STOP IT! HE'S MINE!" But his voice was glitching worse than before, and you thought you could hear another voice under it, laughing. Another voice, yelling Jack's catchphrases in time with the clips on the wall. Another voice, saying your name proudly, egging you on. "Jack, c'mon! You got this! Kick him out! You can do it!" "STOP IT!" His whole body was glitching out now, his face jumping between the angry distortions of his screaming, and Jack's grin, Jack calling out to you. And then suddenly, he collapsed. You yelled and grabbed your ears, eyes clenching shut automatically as a high-pitched scream rang out.

Silence. Absolute...silence. You didn't dare open your eyes. Please. Please. Please. And then...

A groan.

Your eyes shot open. "Jack?" He slowly pulled himself up, until he was resting on one elbow, breathing heavily. And then he pushed himself up into a crouch. He looked over at you.

You'd never been happier in your life to see blue eyes.

"JACK!" He laughed as you fell to the ground and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, hugging you back with just as much intensity. "Hey." "Don't you 'hey' me, you asshole," you sobbed, but you were grinning. You pulled back a bit and scrubbed your eyes vigorously. "Damn, I'm glad to see you. Oh god." "I'm glad to be back." You could tell he was trying desperately to sound light about it, but there was more genuine relief than teasing in it. More quietly, he added, "Thank you. For...those." He motioned to the wall of still playing messages, smiling at them fondly. "Don't thank me. Thank them." "I do," he chuckled. "At the end of every video. And I mean it every time. God, you guys are amazing." "Yeah," you agreed, moving to sit next to Jack so you could both look at the wall. New things were scrolling through now. Gifs from new videos, theories about lore and more fanart from recent game series. "Yeah, we are. There's so many of us." It was only just hitting you how many. "14 million." He sounded so wistful and happy about it. You looked over to catch a goofy smile on his face, which you had to match. "14 million people. And they all like the stuff I do here. They like the games. They like..." "You." His smile got a little sad. "They like Sean." "No." He looked over at you, smile dropping a little. You put a hand on his back. "No, Jack. They love you. You say you're the part of Sean that exists online. Well, that's the only part we know. Yeah, we love Sean. But we know you. You're the one that makes us smile and laugh, that we go on adventures with in every video. We love Sean, the person. But we also love Jacksepticeye. The channel, the brand, the community. We love green and blue eyeballs, we love the flatcap and the green hair, we love yelling the intro and the outro at top volume, high-fiving 'til the headphones come off. We love Sean for being the man who started all of it, for caring for us so much and working so hard to do what he loves, for doing all the good he does for the world, but we also love the world he created online. So that means we love you."

Apparently, it was possible for a computer program to cry, because Jack was wiping his eyes with the collar of his shirt. He couldn't even muster a comeback, or a comment at all. You rubbed his back, smiling a bit. "As for me, anyway...I'd still love to meet Sean, of course. But...I'm so fucking glad I got to meet you. I think everyone wishes you'd reply when they say something stupid to their screen, and...as much as this's been terrifying, and dangerous, and as much as I do want to go home...I have loved every second I got to spend with you. It's like finally getting to talk to an old friend. I love you, Jack." He couldn't speak for a long moment. He did manage to pull you back into a hug, choking out a laugh. When he finally managed to speak, it was hoarsely. "Thank you. And I love you, too. I love you guys more than anything else in the world." He laughed a little again. "I don't even have a fuckin' thing to say after that speech. God, how embarrassing." "The loudest man in the universe doesn't have words for me. Someone alert the media." He squeezed your shoulders, and then the both of you moved to stand, finally.

You didn't say anything else as you walked along, finally coming to the ravine. When you got to Jack's door, he opened it and gestured, almost teasingly for you to go in first. You thanked him for his chivalry. It was good to be home.

"You didn't argue when I said man this time," you murmured when Jack was adjusting the camera. He huffed. "I was a little tired, having been possessed and all." He turned to look at you, hands on his hips. "You ready?" "As I'll ever be, I guess." "Then...it's goodbye." "Yeah." There was barely a second of hesitation before you pulled each other close, and there wouldn't have been a way to tell who was hugging tighter if anyone tried. After a moment, you pulled apart again, smiling. "I think..." He stepped back, taking the flashdrive from you and plugging it into his computer, booting up the code. "I think it's probably possible to be both a man and a program." "Well," you went to stand in front of the camera, "I can say, without a doubt, you are the best Persona I've ever met." "I'll take that." He paused, then said your name, making you look back over at him. It was still nice to hear him say it. "See ya in the next video." "Yeah. See you in the next one." One more long look, and then you turned back to the camera, closed your eyes, and focused on home. You reached out and touched the camera, opening your eyes at the last moment and glancing back over one last time to see Jack waving. You waved back... And everything was fading. And you were falling.