summary: maybe this whole "walking through a desert" wasn't such a good idea after all.
a/n: i was inspired by Markiplier's Darkiplier vs AntiSepticEye video, as well as the SCP Foundation tale Clef and Dmitri Hit the Road, from where the title comes from.
disclaimer: i don't own Darkiplier, AntiSepticEye, MadPat, or Natemate. they belong to...WHO the hell do they belong to, anyway? the YouTube creators? the fandom? anyway, if you found this by searching any of your names on the Internet, please hit the backspace key RIGHT NOW. if you proceed, please don't sue me. all OCs are mine, though, unless they're references to characters from other media. (if you get the shout-outs, award yourself a cookie.)
please check the tags and warnings before reading! i won't be held liable for any mental trauma you'll get if you went ahead and disliked the fic.
also, this work is on AO3! find it at archiveofourown works / 12382173.
Fuck this. Fuck the sun, fuck the desert, and most of all, fuck Anti.
Nope, that joke wasn't meant for the Internet to enjoy.
Dark almost wished he didn't bury Anti halfway into the ground when the little shit began complaining about the heat and his weak-ass body. He recalled calling Anti a baby, one insult led to another, and now he was here, walking alone along a highway in the desert, blaming someone who wasn't even there.
Also, fuck this roaring noise miles away behind him.
Wait, roaring noise?
Dark stopped his slow stomp and turned. Through the heatwaves rising from the highway, he could make out a truck speeding towards his direction.
Thank goodness, he was saved!
He jumped up and down, waving his arms in the air, both in joy and to catch the attention of the driver. He let out a very undignified whoop when the truck slowed down.
"Thank you so much—" he began when the passenger door opened, blasting him in the face with cold air—only to stop when he saw who was in it.
"Oh, perfect timing." Anti grinned, blood all over his T-shirt and jeans. "I was just thinking of you."
Dark didn't even know where to start asking questions. He decided to settle for the most important one. "Why is a dead guy still in here?"
Anti shrugged. "I needed the company. Also, I didn't know how to drive, so he's giving me pointers."
Dark nearly face-planted on the road right then. "Dead people can't talk, dumbass."
Anti didn't look amused. "Oh yeah? If you're so smart, how do you think I got here?"
Dark realized then this was what he was going to suffer for the rest of his journey, and resigned himself. "Okay, never mind, just get us out of here.
a/n: i actually wrote the story of how Anti got the truck, but i didn't like how it turned out, so i cut it.
just so you know, the first four chapters were written WAY before Who Killed Markiplier? and JackSepticEye: The Silent Movie. everything else is written after those, so i decided not to incorporate the "canon" backstories.
if you have any prompts or questions, shoot me an ask at thedarkegoshittheroad . tumblr . com (still under construction!). constructive criticism is welcome, so PRETTY PLEASE leave me a comment or review below. NO FLAMES PLEASE; i already warned you not to read it if this fic is not your thing.