PAX: Living Nightmare

(A/N: Trying something completely new for this story. This is my first attempt at writing for real actual people who aren't made up stories or characters. I usually try to shy away from writing for people who exist for various reasons. The foremost reason being because I can't claim to know how these people would think or act in various situations and so it doesn't feel right writing for them and putting thoughts and words into their mouths. However, it's highly, highly unlikely that Markiplier, Yamimash, or either of the other two surprise characters [or not so surprise given the characters I listed] who'll show up later would ever directly contact me and offer to be consultants on how to write them [Though I certainly wouldn't object], so I'm left to my own devices on that. Here goes nothing.

I hit severe writers block recently and couldn't think of anything to write; however, I had been watching a lot of Markiplier and Yamimash collabs, as well as their single player walkthroughs. I noticed that various comments left on their videos were asking when they'd be collabing again and why they weren't doing so very often anymore, so this little idea formed from there. I recalled an incident on another YouTube channel I used to watch where two of the key players had a falling out and never made up. They never worked together again. I got to thinking what if something like that were to happen with Mark and Aaron? What sort of scenario could be written from that? Probably nothing like that actually happened between them, but nonetheless it paved the way for this and gave me the idea. I was on writers block so I figured why not? Might as well give this fandom a shot. Enjoy.)

PAX 2015

How long had it been since their falling out? He honestly didn't even know anymore. Long enough. It still hurt, if he were to be completely honest, but then he guessed that was the way it always was when friendships fell apart or ended… You know, he couldn't even really remember what it was that drove the wedge between them, but it had happened. Well, he could remember he just… didn't remember why they hadn't been able to work it out or talk like, well, adults about it. He didn't remember why they hadn't even tried. Or maybe they had but there was a breakdown in communication somewhere there. He'd thought about contacting him before and attempting to repair the damage, but in the end he always chickened out. Maybe he was scared. Scared that even if he reached out, nothing would change.

YT

For the hundredth time he found himself about to contact his friend—ex-friend, rather—to do a collab of an interesting game or G-mod map he'd found. Quickly and sharply he reminded himself they were no longer friends. Then the questions 'why' or 'what' would appear… Why hadn't they made up yet? Why was he so angry? What was so hard about picking up a phone or emailing that he couldn't do it? What was so difficult about apologizing or forgiving? At least it would be an attempt to talk things out and smooth stuff over. His stubborn pride, it seemed, wouldn't allow it though. Damn stubborn pride. It wasn't that he didn't want to make things right, it was just that, well, he didn't. He wasn't sure why he didn't, he just didn't. Again, probably stubborn pride.

YT

Aaron Ash turned his train of thought away from the whole sordid affair. He continued flipping through his mail. There were a lot of fan letters. Most came via e-mail, but there were a surprising number of letters sent as well. There were also various thank you notes for various functions he'd helped out with. Other than that there was the usual. Bills and such. He stopped, suddenly, at an official looking envelope. Well, this looked promising. Curious, he set the other mail to the side and opened the envelope up. He started. An invitation to PAX 2015. He frowned curiously. He didn't recall such a thing as personal invitations being sent before. Oh well. Many of his YouTuber friends were going as well, it seemed. He spotted a name on the sample list and cringed. That one included, apparently. For a moment he seriously considered not going, but… He sort of wanted to. He'd start preparing ASAP. San Antonio Texas was quite some distance away, after all. He would need to gather up quite a lot. It would be an expensive flight, plus hotels and meals and such.

YT

Mark Fischbach was reading through his many, many, many emails. They were all the usual and he did his best to answer what he could. Suddenly he paused. What was this now? An invitation. Well, why not open it up? He smiled and did so. It was an invite to PAX 2015! He'd forgotten one was coming up. Oh well! He started, reading a certain name. He grimaced and almost refused the invite, but he was bigger than that. Sure it would be a bit awkward, but there was no rule that said he had to hang out with the guy. Fans had been asking what had happened between them. Neither had ever answered. At least not directly. Maybe in a way that still showed they had respect for and maybe even still liked—not in that way, come on—each other? Oh who was he kidding? Wishful thinking. Still… He shook his head and accepted. Now to make the necessary preparations. He was already excited.

2015

The nightmare started immediately upon arrival in San Antonio. No forewarning, no hint, no nothing. A taxi cab was waiting to pick them up. Yes. Them. As in both of them. Together. In the same cab. Yes. Awkward city. In retrospect they probably should have questioned that. At the moment they'd been too upset to try. "Um, you know what, I could take another cab if it's too much trouble. Or, you know, if Mahk would rather go alone," Aaron said. Part of him didn't want to offer the ultimatum and in fact wanted to take the time to patch things up. That was a two way street, though, and if Mark wasn't ready to try as well, it was already doomed to failure.

"Yeah, might be best if Yami takes another taxi. Or I could, whatever works," Mark agreed. To hear those words kind of hurt, though. Bad. He kind of wanted to try and fix things, but… it seemed Aaron wasn't ready to bother. If Aaron wasn't ready, he could do dick all to fix this rift. That sort of thing required both sides working together, and if one of them wasn't ready, it wasn't going to happen. Oh, he just knew fans would be catching on soon to this, this, change perhaps was the word, between them. He dreaded the questions. He had no good answers. He really, really wished he did, but ultimately he had squat, nadda, zero, zip.

"It's no trouble. Quicker if you both ride together anyway, and cheaper. Doesn't look like any other cab is around," the driver replied.

YT

Driver won the argument in the end. Now they were sitting in silence in the back seat, trying to think of something to say or someway to strike up a conversation. "So, how's Jess?" Mark finally asked.

"Oh, she's good," Aaron answered. Well, that was a busted conversation. He suddenly noticed Mark frowning, though. "Mark?" he asked.

Mark looked suddenly graver. More serious than Aaron had ever seen him before. He leaned back and looked over at his fellow YouTuber. "This isn't the way to PAX," he murmured in an undertone.

Aaron stiffened. That couldn't be good. "What do you mean this isn't the way to PAX?" he whispered, immediately nervous.

"I'm tellin' ya, this isn't the way," Mark replied. Not much else he could say.

Aaron cursed under his breath. He looked ahead to the driver. "Excuse me, sir," he said.

"Yes?" the driver asked.

"Would you mind terribly if we stopped? I've got to use the loo," Aaron replied.

"Sorry kid, no stopping until we get to our destination," the driver replied. Aaron sat back uncertainly. "If we hit a red light we can jump, perhaps. Can't we?"

"This guy is making a conservative effort not to stop at a red lights, Yami," Mark replied. Oh it was official. He was thoroughly freaked out now.

"Maybe we can jump it regardless," Aaron replied, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone. Honestly, though, he knew full well that if they tried that at this speed, they'd end up either dead or with numerous broken limbs. Needless to say, neither outcome was very appealing to him.

"When he slows down we can try," Mark lamely said, shrugging. Key word 'try'. Truthfully, he had no clue if that would work or not, but if this was ending up as bad as he thought it might, jumping was probably the lesser of two evils. Oh yeah. Definitely.

YT

After some time the man pulled off of the freeway and onto a side road in a more isolated area. But not so isolated that no one would stop to help them after they jumped. Aaron and Mark nodded at each other and subtly reached to unbuckle their seatbelts. The man up front reached over, opening the dashboard, and grabbed out a pistol. He aimed it back at them in the next breath and said, "Don't even try."

"Oh my god! Mark, Mark, he has a gun! Oh Jesus Christ, Mark!" Aaron panicked in alarm, immediately drawing away from the buckle and cringing in the seat, practically trying to bury himself in the leather.

"Are you f***ing crazy? What are you doing?! What the f**k man?!" Mark freaked, just as panicked as the other. Oh god, oh god, oh god, this wasn't happening to them. This wasn't happening.

"Don't be afraid. I don't want to hurt you," the man said, smirking at them in the mirror. He looked pleasant enough, but there was this look in his eyes… A crazy look that implied this man wasn't exactly all there. At all. Great. They were held at gunpoint by a complete nutcase. "I'm your biggest fan," the man said. "I love your videos."

"Th-th-thank you," Aaron stammered. "Now can we please leave? Do you want an autograph? Oh god, what do you want from us?"

"I want you to play a game I invented," the man replied.

"Games are good. We like games," Markiplier tightly said, hands part way up in a panicked hands-up sort of way.

"I hope you'll love this one, then. I worked very hard on it," the man said. "I noticed you two stopped making videos together. I was quite unhappy with that, so I designed this game in a way that you both needed to play it together."

"Just-just get us to-to PAX and we'll play your game, alright?" Aaron asked, voice wavering. "They'll have computers in the hotels or at the convention or somewhere. We'll play your game, just-just be cool man."

"My game isn't a computer game, Yamimash," the man replied.

"Oh god," Aaron groaned. Mark was pale and too stunned to even speak, mouth agape. This had to be some crazy nightmare. He'd wake up on the plane and they could just laugh this whole thing off. Yeah, that was it. This was all just some crazy nightmare. This wasn't real. Nope. Couldn't be… Oh god this was actually happening.

"What kind of game is it?" Mark finally managed to ask.

"You'll see, Markiplier," the man answered. "Just relax. It'll be over soon."

"Be over? What do you mean be over?!" Mark demanded, sitting bolt upright.

"Keep quiet," the man threatened, cocking the gun. "First one to speak gets a bullet to the leg. Neither of them dared to test that threat. Instead they sat as still as statues and about as quiet.

YT

It had been hours they were driving now. They'd almost attempted escape numerous times, but the man seemed to know exactly what they were planning and the gun always came out before they could try anything. Desperation was setting in and they intended to act on it the moment they could. They had no idea where they were, sure, but they'd run nonetheless… Or, you know, they could opt to live long lives and not. Yeah, they'd probably go with that. However, they had both been committing to memory the turns and such they'd taken. Just in case.

The cab pulled to a stop. "Get out," the man ordered. "Hands where I can see them. Markiplier first."

Mark kept his hands up except for when he reached for the handle. He opened the door and slowly got out. He thought about making a break for it but then decided that probably wouldn't be a great idea. On the other hand… Just then a bullet shot rang out and Aaron screamed in pain. Whoa now! Mark whirled in horror. "Aaron!" he exclaimed as he saw Aaron on the ground and bleeding from the leg. "What the f**k did you do that for?!" Mark freaked.

"I had to ensure you wouldn't run," the man replied.

"Dammit! Aaron!" Mark exclaimed, swiftly moving to his friend's side. He was addressing him mentally as a friend again. Okay, let's go with that.

Aaron was crying out in pain and cursing. Mark quickly helped him to a sitting position. Aaron clutched the injury trying to stop the blood, gasping in pain. "Oh god!" he gasped, tossing his head back and willing away a woozy feeling.

"You're out of your mind!" Mark freaked at the stranger. He had no way to treat a bullet wound! Here was hoping their captor did.

"Will you try to run now?" the man asked. Mark was silent. He had a point. A sadistic one but a point nonetheless.

YT

This couldn't be happening to him, this couldn't be happening to him! God damn it, he was bleeding out! He only vaguely registered Mark was nearby. He was a little too freaked to properly grasp it. "Help your friend up and follow me into the cabin. You try to run, he'll get another bullet. If that doesn't work to stop you, you get the third," Aaron heard the man say. He felt himself being helped up and willed his brain to catch up to the events. Now he registered Mark was there. They were moving towards a cabin. Aaron shook off the fog in his brain and blinked. The man was some distance ahead and not looking back. Pretty confident, wasn't he?

"Can-can we sneak quietly off?" Aaron asked.

"In Texas?" Mark incredulously asked. "It's not like there's much for forest here, Yami."

"Dammit. This hurts so bad," Aaron said through gritted teeth. "Mark, you need to make a run for it. His keys are still in the car. He's practically giving you a way out."

"Because he knows there's no way in hell I'm leaving you behind," Mark replied.

"You can't very well help me if you're caught as well," Aaron said. "You totally have a chance, dude."

"You bet I do," Mark replied. "Still not gonna happen." Not like he could make it anyway. They were too far from the car now. He'd be shot long before he made it there, and that wouldn't do anyone any good.

Aaron inwardly cursed. But they had a better chance sticking together, and he knew it full well. So did Mark, it appeared. Aaron knew that he himself was a little disoriented right now. Or it was the blood loss talking. Or he was genuinely willing to risk getting himself killed so that Mark could escape. He honestly couldn't deduce why he'd told Mark to run at the moment. Too much pain. Far, far too much pain. This-was-a living-hell.

The minute Mark and Aaron entered the building they were seized from behind. The two gave muffled cries as cloths were pressed over their mouths and noses. Oh how clichéd. Dizziness ensued. The next moment they passed out.