Chapter Text
Time is such a fickle thing for Wilford. He’s long accepted that nothing makes sense anymore, not since…he actually wasn’t sure. He remembered something happening a while back but couldn’t quite grasp the details. He’s been trying to distance himself from whatever past he was running from. Changing identities, experimenting with different looks. So far he’s really enjoying being Wilford, maybe he’ll stick with this one for a while.
Wilford was having a grand old time partying with faces he barely glanced at. His afro bouncing as he danced, pink shirt shimmering under the lights. Then of course his fun had to be ruined. A man claimed to know him and was quite angry. Though, Wilford didn’t recognize him at all. He tried different names before sticking with Dave, glancing at the gun pointing at him. He wasn’t scared of being shot, death was all a joke! Frankly he was bored of this whole interaction.
“I said get your ass on the ground!” Dave yelled. Wilford hums before splitting off to appear behind him. He held his martini as he stared at the back of the man’s head and himself. Wilford tilted his head slightly, he truly could not remember him. His memories have always been fragile, coming and going, he never thought too hard about it. He walked away, leaving the two of them to continue on their boring accusations.
Wilford took a sip of his martini before wandering behind the stage, pushing through the streamers. It was oddly dark back here, he suddenly realized. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked around, chills suddenly creeping up his spine. He lets out a breath, surprised that he could see it from the condensation. Wilford rubs his arms to try to conduct some heat, walking down the lengthening hallway. “What the hell?” he muttered.
Ice started to creep along the walls, stretching down the almost endless hallway. Fog gathered on the floor, sweeping past his feet. Wilford’s head snapped up once he started to hear voices bleeding through. He took a small sip from his drink before walking further down the hallway. “Very funny, trying to prank ol’ Warfstache. These special effects really add to it-”
“You took our lives! You betrayed me!” he could hear muffled shouting, the voice sounded so familiar? “Hello? You can come out now, you little rascal” Wilford called out again. “You betrayed William! You even betrayed Celine!” the shouting was becoming clearer.
Wilford paused at the names, his smile dropping. “C-Celine?” he called softly, memories starting to rush through his mind, too quick for him to really grasp at anything longer than a few seconds. He picked up his pace as the ground below him started to crack.
“Well, maybe if Celine hadn’t run off, then we wouldn't be here right now!” a different voice shouted back. The words started to echo all around him. Wilford was fully sprinting down the hallway but it seemed to grow longer as the cracks grew worse with every step. “Celine? Where are you? I can help you!”
“You were never good enough for Celine!” the voice shouted. Wilford’s eyes widened, tears springing in the corners of his eyes. “Damien?”
“I gave up everything for her!”
The floor beneath him gave out, shattering as he fell through an endless void. He screamed before falling into the seat of a car. A car coming towards them as Dave swerved out of the way before pulling over. Memories of what happened up until that moment flooded his mind as he settled back into this timeline. His mind is already scrabbling and forgetting what he just went through.
“Holy shit that was close” he heard Dave say. “We could have taken them,” Wilford answered back with a shrug. “What the hell does that have to do with-?” he suddenly whipped around in his seat to stare at Wilford. He froze in the middle of leaning down to take a sip of his martini. Next thing he knew, his vision was going black as a taser was pressed against his stomach.
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Damien settled into the unfamiliar body as he felt Celine retreat back into their consciousness. He picked up his cane, twirling it in his hand for a moment. He refused to meet his reflection, not wanting to see the broken body he now resided in. Broken glass surrounded his feet, effects of them pushing his district attorney out of the body. Guilt started to creep up his spine; but, he needed them gone. They don’t deserve to live a life of revenge and anger. Hopefully they’ll someday understand and forgive him.
Anger started to bubble in his mind, remembering what Celine had told him. He needed to make sure that scheming bastard stayed dead. They both knew that the axe wasn’t enough to kill him, just forcing him out of their safe haven? Pocket universe? He wasn’t sure where the cabin was or what was going on anymore. But he knew one thing, Mark wanted a story, so he will be his villain.
Cane clenched in hand, Damien stormed off, his mission was clear. He didn’t know where or how but he would find Mark and get his damn body back. They were the only survivors of this horrid night, he had to get justice.
No, they weren’t the only ones, something whispered in the back of his mind. William was here briefly, he watched over the body throughout the night. A deep anger that wasn’t fully his came rushing back. He must focus, he’ll find William later. He must find Mark and make sure he stays dead, for Celine, and everyone who was at the party.
With that final thought, he walked out the manor. The grey around his skin dimmed the world around him, the aura around his figure growing with his anger. Maybe Mark was right, he could be a great villain.
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He wasn’t exactly sure how much time had gone by since that night. He started to notice that time works differently for him, especially if he was inside the manor. It feels like decades have gone by, but he was sure it’s only been a few years. He goes by Darkiplier now. Calling himself Damien felt wrong when he couldn't even recognize the face that stared back at him. Damien would never let anger and hatred consume his spirit, he never had such violent thoughts or ideas. As far as he was concerned, Damien was dead and would be disappointed in who he was now. Though the few times that Celine was awake, she assured him that he was the same sensitive younger brother she’s always known.
She was almost always asleep now, exhausted from the years watching over him in the cabin. When she was awake, she would take the back seat and just be a simple presence in their mind. Their aura would fully settle for once, the blue and red balancing. But she would never take over fully again, the exhaustion was too much. He didn’t mind always being in control, she deserved the rest.
He felt as though this was his way of apologizing for failing her one mission: finding and killing Mark. He spent almost a year searching for him, it was like he vanished after the party. Eventually, Dark found him but could never get close. It seemed he also gained some new tricks from the manor just like he did. Mark would always escape when he started to close in on him before vanishing from the area again.
Dark couldn’t keep chasing him. He stood out too much and something inside him felt empty, yearning to be back at the manor. It wasn’t just Damien and Celine in this body he eventually realized, a piece of the manor also existed.
Celine reassured him that she wasn’t upset with him, that it was ok for them to take a break from Mark. He still felt like he failed her, but he did head back to the manor. Which is where they currently lived, the house seemed bigger and emptier with no one else in it. He hated it. All of his worst memories happened in this very home, now he’ll be forced to relive it everyday. And he was still out there, walking around in his body like nothing ever happened. The only thing that calmed him was the fact that all of Mark’s movies flopped and was still a struggling actor.
Dark’s been at the manor for almost 2 weeks now. He didn’t like leaving, too many risks and questions. He could barely contain his form, the grey covering his skin would bleed into the world around him whenever his emotions became too much. Not to mention the blue and red aura if he and Celine weren’t balancing their emotions and thoughts. Even his figure would glitch and fracture if his anger consumed him. Which was often in this god forsaken house. This place does something to people’s minds. It took his anger and made it something ugly and dangerous. The shell of his whole being would split and struggle to stay together, pain would shoot up his spine.
But he managed, he needs to stay together. For him and Celine. Who knows what would happen if they fell apart. Back to the cabin? The deathless void? He didn’t know which was worse.
He managed to not go insane in the manor when he had a realization. Mark and him weren’t the only ones who survived that horrid night. How could he forget? What kind of friend was he? His dear William, sanity shattering from watching the death of everyone he held close, then seeing him get back up in a broken body. He remembered hearing him leave while Celine and him sorted out their new body. He’s been alone all this time, god he was a horrible friend. The blue of his aura shuddered, stretching out across the room before he felt Celine’s presence grow.
“We have to find him, we left him alone. His mind was always fragile after the war but now?” He muttered quietly, hugging his cane close to his chest. His thumb rubbing over the words engraved on top.
My Dear Damien
William gifted it to him once his limp grew worse after winning the election. He remembers being all flustered and trying to refuse such a thoughtful gift. Blushing as he tried to hand it back to William. He only accepted it when William rested his hand on the back of his neck, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Take it, I can’t stand to see my dearest friend suffer.”
Friend. He accepted the title even if it pained him. And now he was being a terrible one. How could he forget? He quickly pushed away the old feelings once Celine’s presence pressed to the front of their mind.
“We could go out and find him. I’m sure he’s out there, just like Mark was” she spoke; the red in the aura started to grow as it balanced the blue to a light shade of purple. Dark shook his head, anxiously rubbing the jewel of the cane as he sat on the couch. His usual nerves were starting to grow, his leg bouncing quickly. “I…I don’t think I should. What if I break his mind more? He wouldn’t even recognize me in this damn body. I stand out too much to go out anyways…”
He could feel Celine press closer, trying to calm his nerves. “He wouldn’t forget us,” she said, before saying quieter “he wouldn’t forget you.” He paused his anxious fidgeting, eyebrows furrowed as he fought the blush threatening to grow. “What is that supposed to mean? I’m sure he’d be more excited to see you. Maybe you could find the strength to take over so he could see your face at least-“
“Damien,” she cuts off his rambling, “you know what I mean.” He swallowed nervously, his gaze falling towards the ground. Celine knew her brother, knew him better than she knew herself. She wasn’t sure why he thought she never noticed his lingering gaze on William, how he never was interested in women when Mark and William dragged them to parties. She knew that William loved her, that much was obvious with his jealousy and attitude after she married Mark. But with Damien it was something else entirely. William would do anything for him, she watched their relationship shift and grow once her and Mark started to drift off on their own. Her suspicions were only confirmed now that they shared a mind. He was always a terrible liar.
“…Alright, I can- we can try looking for him. For both our sakes” he comprised. He heard Celine chuckled and could practically feel her eye roll. “Whatever you say, little brother.” Dark stood up and straightened his suit, cane clenched in hand. “You’re still only 10 minutes older,” he muttered.
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He decided to first search for William close to the manor, maybe like him, he didn’t go far from the manor. Did he have the strange pull towards the place like he did? Dark went to William’s old apartment, it was torn apart and empty. Broken glass bottles littering the floor. He picked up a broken picture frame, an old photo of all of them before Mark’s and Celine’s wedding.
“Oh William…” he muttered, gently setting the frame down on the desk. Clearly, William came back here at some point to pack up a few things. He’s also drinking a lot again. William was always ready for a glass but after the war…he started to take it too far, becoming someone else entirely when he was an angry drunk. Often lashing out drunkly, but Damien usually managed to calm him down enough to sober up. Maybe he was still drinking away his feelings and memories? There were plenty of bars around town that William would drag him to, wanting Damien to ‘loosen up.’
“You’re always so tense, Dames! You need a little madness in your life, maybe find a nice lady to take home”
Dark shook away the memory, taking one last glance at the trashed apartment before softly closing the door behind him. The night sky was a deep blue, stars twinkling above his head. Dark let out a soft sigh as the chill hit his body. He was sure he’d shiver if he was still alive, but this body seemed to always be cold.
He glanced around, the streets were quiet, not a person to be seen, when something caught his eye. Dark walked over to the grass in front of the apartment building, the trees and bushes were still growing back their leaves from the cold winter. But what caught his eye was a perfectly preserved pink flower out in the open. It looked so out of place, almost an unnatural shade of bright pink, surrounded by bare plants.
Dark’s eyes widened as he recognized the flower and immediately bent down to softly pluck it from the stem. The grey of his figure started to engulf the flower making him frown. But the flower gave a soft pulse before the pink grew brighter, bright enough to bring the tan color back to his finger tips. Dark gasped as he quickly dropped the flower, taking a step back as he stared at his fingers, the grey slowly returning. He felt Celine push closer, his aura spasming in the dark night.
“Celine, did you see- how did it?” he started, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I know this flower…it’s the same one I saw at the cabin. I told you it was real,” he murmured, reaching down to grab the flower again, his thumb rubbing over the petals as his fingers turned tan. Celine didn’t respond, though he felt her presence grow stronger. He knew he wasn’t just seeing things at the cabin. And he heard voices from the trees, shouting…Was it?
“I heard him, in those woods. Shouting, like he was arguing with someone…” he muttered. His eyes swept across the quiet street for any sign of his old friend. “He always had a way of showing up and lighting the world around him…even if he wasn’t aware” she eventually spoke. “It has to be a sign, it has to be! I failed him before and I refuse to repeat the same mistake twice. These flowers are connected somehow, I’ll follow them,” Dark said, determination evident in his voice. He felt Celine’s worry at his mindset, but he pushed it away. He cupped the flower carefully in his palms before heading out into the night.
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Finding William was significantly easier than it was to find Mark. He’s changed so much since the night of the party. He was figuratively and literally loud everywhere he went, often dressing in bright pinks and yellows. His mustache even started to turn pink at the edges, his hair longer and curling around his neck.
Dark would only ever watch from the shadows, often too nervous to actually approach him. It only took a few weeks of following the flowers William somehow left behind. He started to be able to predict where William would go. He would stand in the corners of different bars and clubs, watching his old friend dance and flirt. The William he knew would scoff at this change of character. Sure William was a bit erratic in the head, but he was also a bit reserved. He saved his true self only for their little group. He was proud of his war medals and wanted to present himself as being honorable. Only when he was drunk did he ever get somewhat loud.
But this? He almost didn’t recognize his old friend. So how would he react to the multitude of changes that he has gone through? He was grey and practically dead, hell, he wasn’t even in his own body!
Dark sighed deeply before taking a sip of his drink. He was sitting in the back of another club William was partying at, a booth in a dark corner. At least in clubs people hardly glanced at him, his aura and greyness blending in with the lights. Celine was in a deep sleep, the blue outlining his body was flickering from nerves. Though the drinks helped to calm him. Dark doesn’t think he’d ever approach William at this rate, too many thoughts raced through his mind. Would he be angry? God, how would he react to Celine?
The choice was taken from him when a blur of pink suddenly appeared sitting across from him. He choked on his drink as he locked eyes with him, with William. He lost his pink afro at some point, curious eyes staring back into his own. William leaned forward on his elbows, analyzing him.
“You think I haven’t noticed you following me? Almost every party I see you in the corner of my eye. Never dancing or grabbing a drink, just watching” William spoke, tilting his head to the side curiously. Dark noticed his voice has started to have a bit of a slurred tilt to it as well. He was also eternally panicking, this was not how he prepared their reunion to go. Hell, he didn’t prepare it all because he was overthinking it so much.
Dark cleared his throat, setting his glass on the table as he reluctantly met his old friend’s eyes. “Look, William-”
“Bully! I haven’t been called that in…I’m not sure how long. But I don’t use that name anymore, call me Wilford, Wilford Warfstache” he quickly cuts in, holding out his hand. Dark takes the hand, “Alright Wilford, then. I’ve also changed my name since then. Too many memories attached-”
Once again, he was cut off, Wilford tilting his head in confusion. “I’m sorry, we’ve met before?” Dark freezes, his aura flashing blue as a faint ringing began to sound. Wilford’s eyes flick up to watch the blue glow before meeting his eyes again. “You don’t…you don’t remember what happened? You don’t remember me?”
Wilford leans back in the booth, letting out a sigh. “I’m afraid not. My memories have been a bit jumbled, I forget even the smallest of things…” he mumbles, eyes drifting off before snapping back to Dark.
Dark could feel a lump in his throat growing, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. “Tell me your name! I can buy you a drink and I’m sure it’ll jog a few memories. It worked with someone else I had this problem with, though I can’t recall his name either…” Wilford said, smiling brightly, He slid a martini with a blue umbrella over to him, from who knows where.
Dark swallowed and cleared his throat, he could feel his shell threatening to crack, wanting to scream, cry, throw something, anything that wasn’t sitting across from his best friend that didn’t even remember the worst day of their lives. “I, um, I go by Darkiplier now. Actually, it doesn’t matter, I don’t matter. This was a mistake. Forget you ever saw me, just know that I’m so sorry” he mutters before quickly getting up from the table. He hits his hip against the table in his haste to leave, hissing softly from the pain. Dark pushed through the crowd as he tried to keep himself together long enough to leave. He heard William- no, Wilford, shouting his name and trying to follow. He wiped away the tears before disappearing into the darkness of the club.
He appeared outside in the dark alley, hands clenching repeatedly as he tried to keep it together. The one person who was supposed to be by his side doesn’t remember anything. He broke his mind; he didn’t remember Mark. He didn’t remember Celine, Damien, or his usual mannerisms. How he helped Damien relax and let loose, while Damien helped to ground and balance his emotions. All the memories of being with Celine, or just all of them growing up together.
Dark felt his shell crack, breaking away to let out a scream, hot tears stinging his eyes. The alley started to turn an eerie black, all color draining away as the void spread from his body.
“Bully, you are quite fast, almost lost you in there,” a voice cut through his thoughts. His aura spasmed as he whipped around to face Wilford. He looked as if he was glowing in the darkness, the way light seemed to shine from him. The black void started to retreat back inside Dark as he reluctantly met his eyes. He quickly wiped away the tears, his black eyeliner smudging. “What are you doing here? I’m sure the party misses you,” Dark muttered.
Wilford looked at him curiously, not scared or alarmed at his display of power. He took a few steps forward, not afraid of getting close. “You left awfully fast, and I wanted to talk more. You seem to know me from a long time ago, and care deeply if that little display meant anything,” Wilford shrugged, like it was such an easy concept. Dark shook his head, gaze falling to the ground again as he took a step back.
“No, it doesn’t matter. You should stay back, I can’t control…” he started to say. Wilford just smiled softly and took another step forward. “I don’t remember you, but I know I can trust you. I know that you must’ve been someone important if you’ve been searching for me all this time…I’ve heard your voice before. I can’t recall what exactly happened, but you were shouting at someone, and I remember being cold,” Wilford approached slowly, as if trying to gain the trust of a wounded animal.
Dark’s eyes quickly met him again, a glimmer of hope, “I knew I heard you at the cabin. Were you leaving these on purpose?” He summoned the flower he kept with him, now grey with a black aura around it. Wilford hums, reaching out to take it from his grasp. He twirled the stem in his hand, the pink immediately starting to return. “I hardly do anything on purpose. I’ve long accepted the weird things that happen around me, because of me, who can keep count anymore?”
They both stare at the flower for a moment before locking eyes again. Dark almost felt insecure under Wilford’s gaze, like he was being analyzed. His gaze was always piercing as he dissected whatever he was trying to understand. “Who were you to me? Did we used to date?”
Dark choked on a laugh, a dark grey blush already blossoming on his face. He looked away, letting his hair fall in front of his face to cover it. “What? No- how did you even get to that conclusion? We were…we were just really close friends,” he stuttered out, pulling at the cuffs of his suit. Wilford looked at him fondly, amused by his obvious embarrassment before just shrugging. “You said you were Darkiplier now, who were you before?”
“I was…it doesn’t matter, he’s long dead now,” Dark muttered. Wilford hummed, “I can understand wanting to bury old identities. How about we start over? Get to know each other again?” he proposed, a new light in his eyes. Wilford watched as the blue flickered around Dark, watching his new friend stare at him in disbelief. “Um, I would like that. I think we both deserve a fresh start after… we just both deserve it,” he eventually agreed. A wide smile broke out on Wilford’s face.
He stepped forward, the darkness around Dark dimming as the color overtook it. Wilford held out his hand, “Bully! It’s nice to meet you, Dark. I think we can have a very interesting relationship.” Dark stared at his hand before slowly taking it, a small smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you too, Wilford,” he murmured, watching how his muted colors would bleed onto Wilford before his own brightness would push back, the tan of his skin briefly coming back.
Wilford suddenly pulled him along, walking down the alley. “I’m so excited to have a new friend I can share my ideas with. You know, I’ve found a few others like us scattered about. Others who don’t quite make sense in a world like this, people who are a bit mad in the head. I have an idea to gather them all and to make a Tv show! I’m a bit of a television host; I don’t think I’ve mentioned that!” he rambled excitedly. Dark lets himself be dragged, noticing their surroundings changing as they jump around. He hummed, interest peaked, “A TV show, you say?”
Wilford kept an arm wrapped around his shoulders, his other hand gesturing wildly. “Yes! It’ll be amazing, I already have scripts written. We just need to find the little rascals and a place to shoot it!” The aura around Dark finally settled, glowing a soft purple as he settled against Wilford. It reminded him of their younger days, William constantly dragging Damien along for his crazy ideas and schemes.
“...Ok, I think I know just the place.”