In which I write for my OTP because there definitely aren't enough fics where they are properly protrayed i.e. the author is aware that they are not brothers and they don't live in a house with miscellaneous monsters/killers.

I repeat:

They

Are

Not

BROTHERS.

Please, please, please Creepypasta fandom, educate yourselves. Masky and Hoody are not Creepypasta nor are they brothers. We can't even be 100% certain that they work for the Operator.

Just please stop saying they're brothers.

This has been a PSA.

Disclaimer: If I owned Marble Hornets this pairing would be canon.

I do not own the creators' wonderful work I promise.


Everything would be better today.

And he knew that because he was going to be the one to make everything better. Oh, yes, he'd been planning this chain of events for a very long time; now, he could finally set it into motion. It felt so good to know that a plan of his was about to come to fruition. So, so good.

The hooded man - or Hoody, as so many avid followers of Jay's exploits had come to affectionately know him - was hiding, waiting. It was the middle of the night, and he was currently camped out in one of the many small, abandoned shacks scattered across Rosswood Park. Normally he would never have taken such a risk, to be out in the woods at night. After all, Alex was probably scouting around with that damned pistol of his, hunting him. But really, he didn't have much of a choice at the moment. This was the only way he could meet up withhim.

Hoody began to wonder if it was really worth it; putting his life on the line just to move the whole game forward a tiny bit. Probably not, really. He could drop his role and exit center-stage, but such actions would probably end in the Operator being very displeased with him; even more so than he presently was. Plus, he had to admit, seeing poor little Jay squirm and post every recent tragedy of his online, only to have several thousand people criticize his actions and decisions and end up sympathizing with Hoody himself and his masked partner, was rather humorous.

Then his thoughts turned to his cutsie fan-coined nickname: Hoody. Somewhere along the way, even he had begun to think of himself as "Hoody." It was so ridiculously childish. He was an antagonistic force, a threat, a danger to be feared, and people thought it was appropriate to know him by such a demeaning title? Gee, how had they come up with that one? So creative. It was almost as bad as Masky.

Almost.

Just thinking about the other man's own nickname made him chuckle quietly in amusement. "Masky." As if he was a child's cartoon character or something else of the sort. It was ironically adorable.

Oh, and there were the footsteps. Nearly silent, as usual, though Hoody was always able to detect them.

"You're here."

His masked partner entered the little shack through a hole in one of the dilapidated cement walls, turning his head to acknowledge his welcome, but saying nothing. That was routine; Masky never talked. At all.

"I've been waiting for ages. You could have at least told me to come later, so I didn't have to just sit here in the dark by myself."

The other gave a small shrug after a moment's pause, sitting at the opposite end of the broken structure. He didn't have much of an excuse, and even if he had, he didn't feel the need to explain himself. He never did.

Hoody sighed and frowned under his facade, standing to walk across the small space and sit by Masky. His companion flinched slightly as he settled down, but didn't get up or move away. That was new. At least he was making progress, as far as being more comfortable around him went.

"Did you have trouble with Tim?" Hoody inquired gently, looking closely at the masked man. "I can always assist you, if you needed-"

He was cut off by Masky raising a hand and shaking his head slowly. He didn't want any help, nor did he need it.

Hoody sighed in exasperation, staring at his partner. Once again, he found himself mesmerized by the appearance of the other's persona. It was unnerving to be aware of the identity behind the mask, and yet still think of him as a completely separate person. Of course, Masky wasn't Tim - not even close. They really were two different people. That was why Masky wore his mask in the first place, why Masky was Masky. Masky was his mask.

Thinking about it in depth was more than a little depressing, Hoody had to admit.

"…Very well," he relented after several seconds of silence, not realizing he'd been too caught up in his own thoughts to respond. "If you're sure."

A nod of confirmation. Still no vocalization.

Jesus Christ, the entire thing was ludicrous. Hoody was so sick and tired of never getting to hear his partner's voice just because he didn't feel like it was his own. It wasn't right.

"It's not fair," he mumbled under his breath, slumping back against the wall. He hadn't really been intending for Masky to hear him, but the other man did in fact tilt his head in a questioning gesture. Hoody wasn't one to complain about petty occurrences, or anything, for that matter. It was unusual for him to say such a thing.

Casting a glance at his companion, Hoody continued. "Masky, you shouldn't hide yourself for the reasons you do. It's…it's not fair. It's not right. At all."

Masky was completely still for a few moments before he shrugged slightly, shaking his head and keeping his eyes focused on his hands in his lap. It didn't matter to him. Why he hid his face and kept silent all the time wasn't Hoody's concern; it didn't even make sense for him to bring it up right now.

A small surge of anger welled up inside the hooded man, and he took a deep breath.

"You don't hate him for everything?"

Masky just shook his head solemnly again; he couldn't hate Tim.

"Not at all? After all of this? Masky, if he didn't keep coming back, you would be so much better off than you are now." Hoody stood, agitation fuelling his movements. He wasn't quite sure why, but he felt like he needed to reassert all of the reasons why Masky should despise his other half. Truthfully, Hoody got more worked up over the topic than the masked man himself did. "Dammit, Masky, you know it's true."

His partner shrank against the wall and shook his head slowly once more.
"You're already feeble. Your immune system's in horrid condition, and your lungs are bad enough without his constant smoking. Not to mention the fact that he swallows those pills all the time without even thinking about it."

Masky didn't look at Hoody. He was making valid points, but…

"If we could just get rid of him things would be so much better for you, Masky. It's your body, too. You shouldn't feel the need to hide your face or not use your voice because you feel like they belong to someone else, like they belong to Tim. You'd be so much healthier, so much happier, if he was just gone. I-"

The other man climbed to his feet and put his hands on Hoody's shoulders, stopping him mid-sentence. He paused for a moment, looking at his partner thoughtfully before moving to dig around in his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and a pen. Masky turned to use the wall to write on, scribbled a few words, and held the paper up so Hoody could see.

'It's not his fault.'

"Masky-" Hoody said, moving as if to take the paper. His companion pulled the sheet back protectively and turned to write on it again.

'He didn't want this. Neither of us did. But we can't change it.'

"I know, but-"

He was cut off as Masky sighed and wrote once more.

'Tim has people he loves, too.'

Hoody froze, staring blankly at the words. Something about them didn't click into place-

'And they would miss him a lot if he just disappeared.'

…No, it wasn't the words that weren't fitting, it was that word: "too."
Tim has people he loves, too.

Hoody frowned behind his facade, looking at Masky for some sort of movement, something. For a long time, he just stood there with his paper. Eventually, though, he scratched another sentence down.

'Don't you think Jay wishes I would disappear, too?'

The question hit Hoody like a brick, and for a moment, he was almost too stunned to reply. Jay? Since when did Jay matter at all? Since when did he care what Jay wanted or wished for?

"Masky, I-"

He cut him off, scribbling more words:

'Would you be upset if I disappeared?'

Again, Hoody was silent, too shocked to respond. Masky was throwing him off, changing topics so fast it made his head spin. Of course he would miss him! They were partners, as close to being best friends as was possible for people like them. It was simply ridiculous to even ask such a thing.

"Do you really think I wouldn't?" Hoody exclaimed incredulously. "You mean the world to me! Why do you think I get so angry when you defend Tim? All he does is cause trouble for you, and when that doesn't upset you, it makes me even more angry. It's supposed to upset you. It should upset you. You shouldn't be alright with being second to another person. You deserve so much more from life than a few stolen moments, Masky. You're worth a million of Tim. I don't care if he disappears. I want you to be happy. I want you to travel, and have fun, and make friends. I want you to live, because you never have, and it'snot fair."

Hoody stared at his partner, waiting for some sort of reaction. The other man had his head tilted in thought, gaze turned to the floor. Likely he was just going to shake his head again, dismissing the notion that he could have a life of his own with the slightest hesitation, as always, but dismissing it all the same.

What actually happened was very different.

Masky hugged him. He just launched himself forward and hugged Hoody with every bit of strength he possessed (needless to say, that meant it was a little painful on Hoody's end). Hoody, for his part, couldn't have been more surprised. It was not like Masky to make physical contact at all, let alone hug someone. Let alone hug him. He himself didn't particularly like touching other people.

But he had to admit, it was sort of…nice.

Masky pulled back after several moments and held up his piece of paper.

'Thank you.'

Hoody gave a curt nod, heart pounding. "You know I'm always here for you, Masky," he said. "Always."

And he meant it. Any day, at any given moment, one of them could be eliminated without warning, and it would be devastating to the other. The thought sent a pang through Hoody's stomach, as it always did when his mind turned to the dangers of the situation they were trapped in. It made him realize just how far they'd come, and how much he'd come to trust other man, knowing that his death would upset him, despite everything that had happened. He'd made it his goal to be stoic and cold from the start, but somehow, Masky had managed to make him care about him. And really, he was okay with that. They had each other, and no one else. Having a single, loyal companion was more than Hoody could have ever asked for at that point in his life. No matter what happened, or who died, or how the game ended, the two would always be partners, now and forever.

Masky, who had been motionless for several seconds, turned to the wall again. He seemed to hesitate before writing, and waited even longer before holding the paper out so that Hoody could see the words there.

'Love you, too, Hoody.'

He flipped the sheet over.

'Always.'