William sped up his pace with a beaming smile on his face, opening his arms widely as if to embrace Dark. He stopped suddenly, a few feet in front of the entity. His cheerful demeanor shattered. Dark looked at the broken man mournfully, conflicting with the red and blue aura around him that radiated power and angry passion.

"You're not Damien".

Damien… How long had it been since he had heard the name, let alone called by it? Years, mayhaps. There was something wrong. Dark subtly glanced over the crazed man in front of him. Wilford wore the familiar faded-red to pink suspenders and bow tie, the same pink mustache. He still had the same annoying sideways smile plastered on his face, but this time it was faltering. His eyes were red and puffy with shiny tear stains down his face. There was a gun clutched tightly in his shaking hand. And his voice... his voice was the Colonel. He didn't know, did he.

It only took a second for Dark to realize why Wilford came here.

It was then that Dark wished he didn't exist. Wilford was so happy when he mistook Dark for Damien. And Dark couldn't help but feel his heart break. Would there ever be a day when Wil would look at him the same way he did for Damien and Celine? Did he only care about Dark for the person, persons he used to be? Dark forced the thoughts and the pain that came with it aside. What Wil thought of him didn't matter. There were much more pressing matters now.

Wilford laughed in a low voice, forcing the sound out of his throat. His eyes were scrunched and tears dripped down his cheeks and his smiling face.

"Oh, I am so sorry, you just look like the splitting image of a friend I know. His name's Damien, and he seems to be hiding from me, along with Celine. I-I don't seem to remember much about them, but I'm sure I'll find them real soon" Wilford stated confidently, hiding the gun behind his back. "I know how to find them, of course, but I'll let them continue to have fun with their little joke before I get them," Wilford chuckled. "Now tell me, who are you? You look familiar- and not just because you could very well be Damien's doppelgänger," Wilford questioned Dark in a jovial voice and a fake, painful smile.

Dark looked away for a second, pausing. He looked up at Wilford with a calm expression of hidden worry. "I'm an old friend," he ended up saying.

A young Mark wearing red stood at the doorway with a proud toothy smile, waving a young William over. Mark stepped to the side, gesturing to someone behind him. It was a scrawny and well-dressed boy with a polite smile on his face. William bounded down the steps to greet them with a large crooked smile.

"Damien, I present to you my good friend William. William, this is Damien," Mark announced theatrically. William excitedly grabbed Damien's hand, shaking it rigorously in a firm handshake. Wilford chuckled. He remembered this; this was the first time he met Damien. It was their friendship that created the trio of rascals that were seen running around the neighborhood. Mark, with his charisma and charm, was the obvious leader of the group and was the bonding force between all of them. William was the more rambunctious one with his troublemaking tendencies but was known for always being able to put a smile on one's face. And Damien was undisputedly the kindest one and helped keep the other two in check with his knack for persuasion and mediation.

William's vibrant energy was contagious as Mark and Damien laughed. William started incoherently gushing about himself and Mark and everything they will do together. They all walking into Mark's large mansion of a house as Damien tried to absorb the endless stream of information coming out of William's mouth. Damien stared at William with curious eyes, being unused to his high energy. William then put his arms across Mark and Damien's shoulders.

"Now we can all be friends!"

Wilford began to remember.

Wilford laughed manically, a hard forced laughter. He fell to the floor on his knees, looking up at Dark with a broken smile and tears pouring down his face. "Where did it all go so wrong? We were so happy back then. What happened to us?"

Dark knelt in front of Wilford and embraced him tightly, wrapping his arms firmly around Wilford's side. Wil clutched onto the lapels of Dark's suit as he loudly sobbed. The once thought as heartless entity rocked gently back and forth, attempting to ignore the gun stuck in Wilford's enclosed fist.

Wilford saw his child self again, William being first introduced to a young Celine by Damien in the familiar entrance hall of Mark's house, which was the common meeting place of the little gang. William saw Mark's lovestruck expression and his heart broke. William had only a vague sense of what love was, but he knew it was real and that it was what he felt for Celine. Of course, he said nothing, as he knew that Mark and Celine were meant to be together. Mark was a good man and Celine was happy. So William smiled. He was happy for them and he was their closest friend. But it hurt, it hurt so much. He loved her. For years he loved her. He always loved her.

Time warped as Wilford saw himself in the foyer of Mark's mansion again, a banner hanging in the doorway saying "Goodbye Will" and his favorite song playing on the record player. William beamed, his new beige army uniform slightly loose on his young, lanky figure. Of course, his friends planned a surprise party before he left. There was food, drink, and reminiscing on old times. They've all changed a lot since then. Now Damien had a government position in town and Mark was a budding actor. Celine even became a successful medium, tailoring to her interest in the arcane arts and was also officially Mark's fiancé. So William wanted to make something of himself too. He was always interested in the art of war as he found the gun an effective way to channel his boundless amounts of energy. The party ended with William beckoning them all to stand together as he set up the tripod for his camera. Damien, Celine, and Mark looked at the camera with practiced smiles, wanting the picture to turn out well. William turned on the timer and jumped into the group without warning, the bright flash temporarily blinding them. Mark wanted another picture taken with all of them ready but William declined, saying he'd rather have it candid. Damien also made William promise that he would write to them frequently, which is how William found out about Mark and Celine's marriage months later. And Celine commented that a mustache or something would look good on his baby-smooth face, which William took to heart. The party ended with hugs being exchanged and a kiss on the cheek from Celine that William tried not to think about too much. He was happy. In the war he was known for his selflessness, his undying morale, and that he was a damn good marksman. After all, he had something, someones to live for. He found himself frequently looking at the photo they took that day, which he always kept in his inside jacket pocket. On the left was Damien, who looked at William with a surprised, yet amused expression. William was squashed between Damien and Mark with a beaming smile towards the camera and his hands a blur when he was moving his hands onto their shoulders. Mark was laughing with his face turned towards William, his eyes twinkling with mirth. Mark's arm was draped around Celine's waist, who watched them all with a knowing smile. It was nice to see that all the men she grew to love were happy. Too bad it wouldn't last.

Wilford then saw himself many years later as the Colonel, walking through the familiar front door of Markiplier Manor. His bushy mustache and his once loose uniform being filled out with muscle were only some of the changes that occurred while he was away. He was much more mature, more focused, more capable than the boy he was before, though he didn't really notice it. And he became knowledgeable in more ways than one. William had many "partners" in his time away, men and women alike. He wanted to move on from Celine and the heartbreak that came along with it. After all, he wanted her and Mark to be happy more than anything. But when he saw Celine sitting on the familiar staircase of Mark's mansion one night with tears in her eyes, his heart broke all over again. He rushed to her side and held her as she cried, listening to her talk about Mark's changed personality to one of coldness and lack of love for her. William confessed his love for her, hesitant to confess something that he's kept to himself for years and to imply adultery with his best friend's wife. He feared her reaction the most and knew that she wouldn't accept. "It would have been you," she said with a mournful smile, "if you asked before Mark did, I would have chosen you". Then they had a long overdue conversation and Celine brought up the idea of running away together. And William agreed, willing to do anything for the woman in front of him. Fuck Mark, he was finally happy and knew that this, this was what true love felt like. The both of them smiled and laughed as William spun her off her feet. Then they both stop, kissing slow and gentle and happy as they both whispered "I love you".

Wilford watched in the background, crying. He wanted so much to call out to Celine, to hold her in his arms once more. He wanted to prevent all this pain and to tell her that they should have never left. He wanted scream and tell Celine to leave William, leave Mark, leave that cursed house and never return. But it was just a memory. He shouted her name anyways, but no sound left his mouth. Suddenly everything started to blur. And then a vision of Celine, covered in shadow, radiating light and power.

"Who are you?" Wilford whispered, looking up at the strange entity with a look of bewilderment.

Dark's grip on Wilford loosened, averting his gaze in a momentary pause.

"My name? It's Dark."

"Sounds like Mark! Mark... What happened to-" Dark grimaced as he saw the inevitable come. And then Wilford remembered. He remembered everything.

Glimpses of the Colonel shooting Mark with a loud bang, his body bleeding and falling to the floor in the wine cellar. Blood mixed with the crimson of his silk robe, staining the floor in wine red. Overlapping flashbacks of him shooting the detective and the man sliding to the floor. His white shirt stained with a bloom of crimson and a splatter of red on the wall where he once stood. The DA bleeding and looking at their bloodied hands before falling backwards off the staircase. Their final haunting look of shock and fear on their face as he outstretched his hand in an attempt to grab them with a futile "I'm sorry". Staring at the DA's body for 10 long hours while clutching Damien's cane until he saw them suddenly stir. There was so much blood, so much blood on his hands. He was right from the very beginning. It was all his fault.

"It's all my fault…" Wilford whispered, his body still. He quickly sat up to Dark's surprise and turned away from him, his gaze looking down at the gun in his hands. "I killed them, I killed them all. And I never even got to tell them I was sorry…"

Dark breath hitched as he warily eyed the pistol in Wil's fist. There wasn't much time.

"Wilf-William, it's not your fault. None of it. Mark planned everything from the very beginning. He wanted to die, he wanted you to kill him. And everything that happened after was a result of his actions, not yours. It was all Mark's fault." Dark's voice became more echoed and the high pitched ringing grew louder. Wilford felt the intense hatred Dark had for Mark from the steely look in his eyes and the sneer on his face. Wilford couldn't help but tense up at the aggression radiating from the man. Dark seemed to notice this as he took a deep breath, the ringing gone and eyes filled with concern.

"It's not your fault that you forgot everything that happened that night at the Manor, so many years ago," Dark said quietly, making sure Wilford understood. "It couldn't be helped, Wilford. Any sane person would have."

"Years… It's been so long since I've seen them, hasn't it. But how could I forget? How could I forget my best friends?" Wilford mumbled, his free hand carding through his hair with his other arm wrapped around his legs. He suddenly stopped, turning to look at Dark with a mournful look of a man who had seen death too many times, killed too many times. "Damien and Celine, what happened to them? Are they dead? Did I... did I kill them?" Tears started to well up in his eyes again, his voice breaking. "Or did they leave me?"

Dark firmly clasped his hands on Wilford's shoulders, pulling the pink man closer to him so they were eye to eye. "Damien and Celine didn't die, Wil. They didn't leave you, and they never will... I never will." Dark says, his eyes full of tears he tried to hold back and failed, streaking his face. "Celine and Damien are here William, you found them. They are right here, remember?," Dark says in a voice that is distinctly both Damien and Celine as his red and blue aura flickered, cupping the sides of Wilford's face.

Wilford placed his free hand on top of Dark's, tears glistening in his eyes as he smiles widely in real happiness for the first time in years. "That's good, that's good. Are they well? Are they happy?"

Dark paused, his gaze looking guiltily to the side. Damien and Celine weren't here anymore. And even if they were, how could two souls be happy in the same, broken body? Would he ever be happy until Mark payed for what he had done to them and to Wilford? Would he… ever feel happiness? Dark looked Wilford in the eye.

"Yes," Dark said, his voice quiet and melancholy as he slowly lowered his hands from Wilford's face, "they're fine."

Wilford smiled sadly and down at the gold pistol in his lap and gently fiddled with the trigger, accepting the fact that Celine and Damien were, in a way, gone. He could never crash into Damien's office and sit on his desk while he was doing "official mayoral business". And he could never go downstairs late at night and dance with Celine with only the soft light of the moon illuminating their steps. At least they knew how sorry he was and how, even though it didn't feel like it, that maybe it wasn't his fault, at least not all of it. At least they weren't dead and that they were still alive as this "Dark" person. At least they didn't leave him, thinking that he was a monster. And at least… they were happy, even without him. Wilford made eye contact with Dark once more.

"That's all I ever wanted."