#iswm endings

[trash-gremlin]

HOLY SHIT who was going to tell me in space with markiplier was actually soul-crushingly devastatingly good

[fuffleton]

“The colonel was a better man for Celine!!! Mark was abusive!!”

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

'One chance to get back to the point where everything starts

One chance to keep it together

Things fall apart'

'Don't let your lifeline go'

[moonymoonsiplier]

A Growing Sense of Resentment...

[ask-the-invincible-crew]

She going to get her revenge.....just you all wait.....

[broken-grace112]

I finally watched 'In Space with Markiplier' and I will never be the same ;0; It was so good! 💙

"Funny thing to say after an eternity of nothing but second chances--Don't. You don't have to keep trying anymore."

[stillbreathing-aer]

i just finished watching a video that compiled all of the markiplier cinematic universe (MCU) and WHAT IS THAT STUPID SONG THAT HE ALWAYS USES DURING THE EMOTIONAL SCENES?? IT RUINS ME EVERY TIME IT STARTS PLAYING

[ghiertor-the-gigapeen]

CW blood

Iron Lung happy ending cus I ain't letting him die like that

[caffeinatedreese]

Don’t imagine the Perfect Captain Ending where the Captain has to go clean out Mark’s locker, only to find the cologne he always wore.

And don’t imagine the Captain taking the bottle for themself because now he’s gone but hey, at least they can still be reminded of him like this.

And don’t imagine the Captain spraying it on every now and then to imagine that they are still near him in some kind of way.

And definitely don’t imagine how devastated they are the day that the cologne runs out.

[zee-stars]

Okay, first time doing this so uh- hello!!

OKAY!

For space Mark, imagine like, after Captain tosses the crystal into the wormhole and Mark yells at them, he hears like soft sobs, and realizing that it isn't him he snaps back into reality to realize that it's the CAPTAIN crying. Which is like- really ooc for them because they're always so set on being strong for everyone else and making sure to support their team, so hearing them break down really hits kinda hard, and he realizes that they're just as much of a victim to this as everyone else is.

Like, angsty fluffy stuff because it's cute and captain needs love too

Uh yeah I hope I'm doing this right, GN Captain, can either be platonic or romantic!! ^^

Omg I love this idea so much!! I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this😭😭

But this is such a good idea and tbh... this was my genuinely reaction to Mark yelling at the end lmaoo

But thank you so much for the request I hope you enjoy!!

Let it out

Space mark x Gn!reader (not specified if platonic or romactic)

"What did you do?" Marks voice breaks the silence that has been filling the room. His words were quiet, like they just happened to slip through his lips. He speaks again, but this time, much harsher.

"What did you do!" This times his voice is filled with anger and rage, something I am not used to hearing, especially directed towards me. I tear my eyes away from where the wormhole once was, the place my eyes had been glued before. I look at his face and it has an expression I am not used to seeing. He's angry, furious, and he looks at me with a scowl on his face.

"I- Mark I-" I try to form words, but they fail me as my eyes start to water up, invisible to Mark due to the helmet on my head.

"You destroyed everything! I spent an eternity in hell, rebuilding this machine and you threw it all way!" He slowly steps closer as he yells and I try to move away but my feet feel glued to the floor. "I don't know if you're evil or just stupid!" His last words are filled with venom. It feels like daggers are flying out of his lips and stabbing me in the heart. Suddenly my legs feel weak and the tears slide from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I try to speak but all that escapes is a loud sob. And I break. I break like I was made of glass and just hit me with a bat.

Marks face softens, he stops speaking and his arms slowly drop back down to his sides. He is unsure of what was it he heard. It sounded like a sob but he hadn't made any noise. His cheeks are dry and no tears are escaping from his eyes. Then he notices the Captain. Their legs are visibly shaking and their hands are formed in a ball. Their chest is quickly heaving up and down and not a word is coming from behind their helmet. He slowly raises his hand to rest on their shoulder.

"Captain?" He asks quietly, trying to see if it was them who made the noise. Suddenly the sound of sobs is all that can be heard throughout the quiet room. He doesn't know what to do. He caused this. He shouldn't have yelled at them, they were trying to help...

"Captain, I-" He pauses a loss for words, "I'm sorry..." Quickly the captain moves, so quickly Mark is barely able to see what their doing until it's already done. The captain pulls off their helmet, reveling their messy hair and tear stained face. Mark is shocked, never once has he seen the captain without their helmet. In any universe, every situation, their face had always been hidden. He is just disappointed it was in these terms that he say it.

The captain forces themselves to sit down, their legs feeling feeling too weak to be able to stand. They bring their hand to their face and fully let go. Getting out all the stress, sadness, grief, loneliness, and everything else they've been keeping in. Mark stands above them, unaware of what he should do. Once their crying has started to slow down, the tears don't fall as quickly and their breath is slow and hollow, do they finally meet his eyes, face to face for the first time.

Mark feels tears well in his eyes as they look up at him, cheeks still wet, eyes red and hands shaking still. "Captain... I'm so sorry... I should have never yelled at you.." He finally says, sitting down beside them.

"It's okay, I messed up... lots of times..." They let out a dry laugh. "And I failed.... as a captain.." They head drops downwards.

"What? No you were the best captain, you were brave and strong and pushed through to do what was right... and you saved me... and fixed everything." He rambles, looking over at the captain with a faint smile. They continued to look down, avoiding eye contact. Mark takes this moment to admire their features he had never seen before. Their hair, slightly messy from being kept trapped up in that helmet all this time. Their eyes that are slightly difficult to see at this point from where he is sitting. He sharply inhales before wrapping his arms around them. There is only a brief pause before the captain wraps their arms around him in return.

Mark lets out a soft sigh and one of his gloved hands rest on their head and the other at the middle of their back. They sit in peace, glad that they finally have a minute to breathe, and even more glad that everything is over. Mark goes to pull away but stops when he notices that the captains body is now leaning more heavily on his.

"Captain? Are you sleeping?" They jump a bit before pulling away from him.

"Sorry! It's just been so long since... I've gotten a moment to rest." They admit and Mark just smiles back at them.

"I agree. Once everything goes back to normal, I promise you can sleep as much as you need." He says with a friendly smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's the end! I hope you enjoyed it and I'm sorry I'm so bad at endings lmao

Hopefully I can stick with this writing thing :)

[soupgoose]

I’m Right Here

Summary :  After weeks, the  Captain of the Invincible had still not woken from their Cryopod. And while most of the crew has lost hope, Mark, now as Acting Captain still held on to the thought that they would. Was it denial, or a foolish hope that his beloved Captain would wake up? Possibly. But whatever was going on in his head wasn’t going to change their fate. And Mark hadn't left their side. No one wanted their Captain to stay asleep forever, but in this state, they weren't really alive either.

Genre : Hurt/Comfort, Angst (with a happy ending)

Word Count :  2500 

Paring :  (Sort of) Head Engineer Mark / [Gender Neutral]Captain, Captaineer

TW: I’ll add these since there is mention of being in a comatose state and self-blame but that’s it!

A/N: I'M BACK BABY

No jokes, I have returned from my unofficial hiatus (cough-burn out-cough) and I am ready to write again! First time writing 2nd person for a fic, so please let me know how I can improve. Slightly shorter than how I prefer my writing, but I didn't want it to drag.

I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! As always, if you have any ideas or critiques for how I can improve in the future, please let me know!

Happy reading! -Soup :D

  “Hey, Mark? ‘You in here?” Gunther called out from the doorway.

The engineer sat alone in the small break room, hands in a fist held in front of his face. His expression was difficult to read as most of the lights were turned off. A few emergency lights at the corners of the room dimly lighting the man's figure.

“Mark…” Celci spoke quietly, a contrast from how she typically spoke to him.

Only receiving a quiet sigh from him, she exchanged a nod between herself, Gunther, and Burt. Burt stepped in, flicking the light switch by the room’s entrance. Mark winced at the sudden brightness, covering his eyes with his hands. He sniffed, turning his head towards them, “I’m guessing nothing new then?”

The man's eyes were glossy and red, now shimmering under the fluorescent lights. There were marks left from tears that had fallen from his eyes, leaving only the path that they took down his face.

“Well, they’re vital signs are stable, but they’re still sleeping.”

The corners of his mouth fell into a deeper frown, his eyebrows furrowed as he closed his eyes. His knuckles rested against his forehead as his thumbs pressed at the space in between his brows.  

“We know that that’s not the news that you wanted to hear, Mark. But at the very least, they are still healthy…”

His brown eyes looked focused at the table in front of him. Only looking up when Gunther came over to stand next to him. He looked wordlessly at his friends, all sharing the same worries he had. “They’ve been “healthy, for almost a month.” he started, “What if-” he fought hard against the knot that formed at the base of his throat, “-What if they don’t-” stopping himself, he turned away from them as he attempted to clear his throat.

The four knew what he wanted to ask, even though he had already done so many times before.

Even when he already knew that their answer wouldn’t change. He just didn’t know what else to say.

He took a moment to collect himself before clearing his throat, “It’s been three weeks… how much longer do you think we should wait?”

Celci gathered a breath, “We don’t know. It's- we're worried that if we force them out of cryo sleep, their vitals and brain functions would suffer. But then again, if we wait too long, we aren't sure if they’ll be able to- ehhem- We’re not sure how much damage Cryo is doing to them as it is.” Her voice began to falter. Celci was known as a hard and calculated person, though she had her moments, but her mood had taken the same turn that everyone else’s had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After arriving at their final destination, while every other crew member had woken up to begin work on starting the new colony, their Captain remained asleep.

In the beginning, no one was particularly worried. Cryo sleep can often be difficult to emerge from, especially taking into consideration how long the individual had been out for.

However, as days began to pass, more and more of the crew began to grow concerned. The Captain hadn’t shown any signs of progression in waking up. And their vital scans remained consistent with how they were when they had first entered the cryo pod.

The only distinguishable detail was that they'd showed a small spike every so often, similar to when a person enters REM sleep.

After 5 days, the leads from every division of the crew had gathered for a meeting. Without the guidance of the Captain, they decided that the four main crew leads, Mark, Celci, Gunther, and Burt, would take over leading the building faze of the colony, until the Captain emerged. Since Mark was the head engineer, and had been in charge for the creation of the Invincible 2, he was appointed as the temporary Captain. While the other three had to be involved in all decisions, his word was final.

Two and a half weeks have passed since then.

Was it denial, or a foolish hope that his beloved Captain would wake up? Possibly. But whatever was going on in his head wasn’t going to change their fate. Mark hadn't left their side. His coworkers had found him multiple times asleep leaned up against the cryopod’s door. The three had tried to convince him that he should try to let them go, but he always refused. No one wanted their Captain to stay asleep forever, but in this state, they weren't really alive either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m going to go see them.” He said, getting up from his spot.

“Mark… I- We know you don’t want to think about it, but the longer we wait, there will only be a higher likelihood of there being more damage.”

Ignoring them, he began to walk past.

“Come on Mark, we need to talk about this.” Gunther spoke firmly, grabbing him by his sleeve.

“I just need a second!” Mark's eyes had an irritated gleam to them. “...Please.”

Burt placed his hand on Mark’s arm before looking back at Gunther. Gunther’s hand dropped back to his side with a sigh.

“Another few minutes won’t change anything. I just need to collect my thoughts, okay?”

The group hesitantly let him go. They needed to decide soon. And they needed Mark to be the one to do it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their Cryopod had been moved to a quieter, more isolated and sterile part of the ship. An old additional medical bay was preferable to the front control room. With less foot traffic, the Captain’s attendants could better maintain and focus on taking care of them.

The room was a bit darker as well. So long as they didn’t leave the monitor screens on full brightness.

Mark found it to be… comforting? More relaxing, maybe? As the acting Captain, he found that the crew had taken an interest in talking and meeting with him more than they used to. He would probably have enjoyed the extra attention, if it weren't for the current circumstances.

On top of having to run a growing colony and managing all of the new affairs of his current job, he was bombarded with questions, including the ones that he didn’t have answers to, and the ones didn’t want to answer. “Mark, are there any updates on the Captain’s condition?”

“Have you and the team come up with a plan?”

“Are they dead?”

But here, as grim and morbid as it may be, he found an ounce of peace. Even though it was accompanied by a deep and profound sadness.

“Hey, Cap’n…” He greeted them quietly. Although there was no response, he still paused for one.

He sat with his back pressed against the wall adjacent to their Cryopod, so he could maintain a close distance to them, while also being able to see the cold blue doors.

“Now I get why you don’t like all of the crew's attention. I mean yeah, some of it’s nice, but all of the time? I understand why you like being alone.” He said before chuckling to himself briefly. He could almost hear their laughter.

As he did everyday, he relayed any updates and reports there were. Including any funny stories if they happened. He felt that it was his duty, since he wasn’t really the Captain. He needed to keep them up to date on what was going on with their colony. That roll still belonged to them after all, they had earned it.

He sat with them for a long time in silence. Well, kind of silence. Their heart and oxygen monitors, along with the various other beeps bops, were present in the background.

Eventually, he continued,

“C.C and the team want me to come up with a decision. I just, don’t think I can. I don’t want this to be a lost hope yet. I want to believe that you’ll wake up one of these days, and then everything will just go back to the way things were…”

“But… I don’t know how long that will take, Cap.” His voice wavered, and he forced out a hard sigh.

“I don’t know how to do this without you. I trust you more than anybody, more so than myself… I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have tried to blame you. I- I shouldn’t have tried to be the hero…I was so reckless…now you-"

He brought his knees up to his chest as tears started to well in his eyes.

He scoffed, burying the quiver in his voice with a brief cough.

He looked up at one of their monitors. From what he had remembered it was one of the ones that showed some of their brain functions. He had asked to be present though the majority of the Captain’s "check-ups". While he denies it, there wasn’t anything that he wasn’t there for, despite the crew’s suggestions for him to “Let them do their work in peace.” He never really left the Captain’s side so long as he could help it.

Through that he had gleaned a bit of an understanding of what all the peaks and dips meant on the screen. He watched closely at the lines, taking note of what he believed to be them entering a state similar to REM.

"I wonder what you're dreaming about Cap." he started, "I hope it's something nice. Like a quiet beach or a cabin, where nothing matters… just peace…"

A small smile almost broke through his frown, imagining his dearest friend somewhere peaceful for the first time in multiple eternities.

Then reality hit him again. “It's my fault, isn’t it?” He asked in a quiet voice. “Everything we went through- It was my fault. The warp-core…The loops… It was all my fault. All you did was try to clean up my mess. You believed in us, you believed in me, and all I gave you in return was nothing but blame and hate.”

“How could you forgive me?”

For a while after that, he sat there, quietly sobbing into his knees. Out of every person on the Invincible, no one wanted the Captain to wake up more so than himself. He needed to apologize to them. To talk to them again. Face to face.

He didn’t need them to forgive him. Frankly, he wouldn't care if they never wanted to see him again after that. He just needed to know that they were alive. That all of their efforts had mattered.

From inside, unknown and unnoticed, a new movement stirred. Their stiff and sore body rose from its rest, their muscles trying to stretch within the limited room. They let out a stifled yawn, rubbing the sleep away from their eyes. Their hands moved to rub small circles into their neck, wincing every so often when finding a particularly sore spot.

Confused, they tapped at the screen in front of them, after having gotten used to the monotone voice waking them up, the quiet was unnerving. Through their slight shiver, they heard a very muffled and desperate voice from beyond the blue walls.

As they reached for the door they stopped abruptly.

“C-captain… I’m so- so sorry Captain. I should have trusted you more. I just- I need you-I need you to wake up, tell me what I should do…”

They were taken aback, surprised at hearing him sound so upset. Especially over them. How long had they taken to wake up? Why was Mark so desperate for their advice? Had their plan worked? Was all of this finally over? Were they finally free from the constant repeats and agony?

Continuous questions raced through their mind, only halting when they heard Mark speak again.

“We need you back, Captain. I need you….”

Their voice was hoarse, just barely able to call out to him as the words scratched against their vocal cords.

He hadn’t heard them.

“I can’t keep going like this- you’re supposed to be the captain, not me. I didn’t sign up for this. I never thought that you wouldn’t be able to lead. Why would I-”

They tried to call out to him again, a little louder. They tried the door, pushing against it, but their body still hadn’t regained all of its strength. It was still not enough

A few corridors down, Celci and the other cryo-engineers received a shocking notification.

"Holy shit."

"Please wake up…" his words were weak and desperate. "Captain please, just wake up."

Frustrated, they reached up to hit the emergency release latch, and the Cryopod door swung open.

Their knees almost hitting the ground before catching themselves. They squinted at the brightness from the screens flashing with warnings. Sterile air hitting their lungs as they caught their breath. Though heavily disoriented, they heard a small voice from behind them.

“Captain?”

The captain turned to look at their distressed partner. He looked so small, so… hopeless.

The flashing lights illuminated the streaks of tears that followed the curve of Mark’s face.

He was speechless, his eyes wide with shock. Unsure if he was dreaming this, or if all of his wishes suddenly were answered. Their face looked unscathed, their features just as he remembered them from when they first arrived on the Invincible. No bruises or cuts, they looked… alive.

He was expecting anger, hate, something to lash out on him at any moment. And the longer they stared, the harder he braced himself. Whatever was coming, he felt he deserved it.

After what felt like an eternity, they moved, taking a small step towards him.

“Mark?” the captain asked in a voice just above a whisper, “Is that you?”

As they inched closer, Mark instinctively brought his hands up, almost on guard.

He wanted to answer, but every word that came to mind got caught in his throat.

Only able to whimper, “Captain. I am so, so sorry…” He couldn’t stop more tears from pouring over and down his face, and a river of emotions raged. “I am so, so, sorry. I-I thought I- I thought you weren't going to wake up. I thought I had ki-”  

“It was all my fault.” he sobbed. “I don’t care if you never want to see me again, I just needed to know that you were okay. So, please go ahead. Yell, scream, just do something! I can take it-” he stopped mid-sentence.

The Captain looked horrified. Years of memories and trauma lingered at the forefront of their mind, all of it pointing at the respective catalyst. Everything they went through, each ounce of pain should have made them so terribly mad at the engineer. It would have been so easy to let it consume them, let all of that rage take control and let loose on the poor man…

But they couldn’t.

Mark wasn’t aware of the opening door, or the gasps from the doorway. He could only feel their warm arms, and the steady sound of their heart-beat coming from their chest. Caught off guard, it took him a solid few seconds for him to react. The way their arms wrapped around him, the way they held the back of his head to their chest… They weren't mad at him at all.

Holding them back tightly, and burying his head deeper into their chest, he felt so relieved.

They were alive.

Through his shaky breaths and sobs, he heard the voice he realized just how much he had missed.

“I’m right here, Mark."

“I’m right here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

YIPEE I FINALLY GOT THIS THING OUT OF MY DRAFTS!!!

In all seriousness, thank you for reading. I know I’ve been absent from tumbler lately, however, I’m planning on hoping right back into writing! I have quite a few more WIPs that I plan on posting relatively soon (wink wonk) and I can’t wait for you all to see them!

If if you have any ideas or critiques for how I can improve in the future, please let me know! Thank you again. 

Happy Reading!

-Goose :D

[infinite-infinite-stars]

Literally everything that WKM might have been trying to say about choice and lack thereof, ISWM explores as well, but better. Fight me.

[falseroar]

Murder on the Warfstache Express

Part 1: All Aboard, Full Steam Ahead

((So. That train story, right? Okay, but this is something I've been playing with the idea of writing ever since Wilford dropped that Murder on the Orient Express reference back in Wilford Motherlovin' Warfstache, and it really helped when AHWM and ISWM dropped and introduced us all to a wide cast of characters who don't all happen to look like Mark. Which is partially why this is a much different story than it would have been before ISWM. There's going to be a lot of familiar faces, some of them very out of place here, along with a couple of folks only referenced by name or as jokes. Also a murder, can't forget about that. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!))

Abe had never been a fan of confined spaces. Something about being caught with his back against the wall in one tight corner after another made it only natural to be on edge whenever he found himself confronted with a small room with only one way in or out.

A room very much like this train compartment he’d already lost track of time in, between the muted colors of the shoebox-like space that offered a seat just long enough to stretch out on and a window looking out at the unchanging landscape whiplashing by too quickly to really focus on anything in particular, and not much of anything else in the way of entertainment or stimulation. Abe had the riveting options of staring out at snow-covered hills and snow-covered trees and a dreary gray sky that promised, yes, even more snow that no one had asked for, or up at the jostling luggage rack overhead while he thought about the usual things.

Things like why the hell he was on this train in the first place.

He gave up on that pretty quickly and jumped up again, pacing the narrow space before deciding he really needed to stretch his legs. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to get a better idea of the layout of the train.

Just in case.

If he had noticed the conversation going on in low voices outside of his door, Abe would have stopped and held his ear to the door in the hope of hearing some of it. After all, he was a detective, which made eavesdropping practically his moral duty. That, and he was nosy as hell and bored to go with it.

If he had known a little more about the pair standing out in the hallway at the time, he would have loved nothing more than to have a regular door with which he could have “accidentally” hit one or both with as a possible alternative for some quick amusement.

Both options were only apparent in hindsight though, because in the moment Abe just turned toward the sliding door and opened it abruptly, startling the two men on the other side so badly they both jumped away from the opened door like it was a ticking timebomb.

One, the man with slicked-back black hair dressed in a suit that felt expensive to even look at, recovered first and gave Abe a withering look before remarking aloud as though addressing the air in general, “So much for this being luxury travel. It looks like they’ll let any low class, ill-mannered lout buy a ticket these days.”

Abe bristled, any apology he might have had instantly dying in response to that stuck-up, drawling voice. “And I thought you’d have something intelligent to say when you opened that pretty mouth of yours, so I guess we’ll all have to get used to being disappointed today.”

The rich man drew himself up, visibly swelling with indignation, but the other man cleared his throat and subtly moved between the two as he said, “Perhaps we could continue this conversation somewhere a little more private, sir?”

“Somewhere more private than the middle of the hall?” Abe asked. “Wow, wonder where you could find something like that around here.”

Choosing to ignore that comment, the second man slid open the door opposite Abe’s and stepped aside for the rich man with an, “After you, sir.”

The rich guy gave Abe one last sneer before going into the other compartment, which from the glimpse Abe got looked to be far more elegant and spacious than his own. The lackey added a disapproving stare of his own in Abe’s direction before sliding the door shut again with a sharp rap and promptly lowering the shade on the other side of the door’s round window.

Well, Abe could tell he was already off to a great start getting to know his fellow passengers. Although if the rest were anything like those two, he’d be better off staying in his own room for the rest of the trip.

A not very tempting thought, so instead Abe stepped out into the hallway and slid the door shut behind him, taking a moment to look both ways.

More rooms to either side, the doors slightly offset from their opposite so that any uncovered windows just looked out into the hallway and not directly into their neighbor’s room. To his right past a few more compartments was the door he used to step onto the train, and beyond that he’d caught a glimpse of the luggage car being filled by the station porters. Past the luggage car there was only the train’s engine, so nothing to see that way.

He turned left and paused not three steps away from his door, head unconsciously tilting while his brow furrowed in concentration. Over the rhythmic sound of the train’s wheels turning and the distant huff of the engine, Abe thought he heard something else.

Music?

It was faint at first, but the longer he listened the louder it seemed to get until the noise of the train died away, until the beat roared in his ears and drummed in his chest, the sound so tangible he was surprised the next door along and seeming source of the music wasn’t shaking in its casing. It was as much a mystery as why there was no complaint from the rich man next door, who had to be able to hear that noise through the connecting wall between the two rooms.

Abe slowed, staring at the covered window of the door like he could see through it if he tried hard enough. That thumping, upbeat music was familiar, familiar in a way that itched at the back of his mind and made his trigger finger twitch. Where had he heard this before?

Before he could make the connection, Abe heard the rattle of another door opening and quickly turned away from the offending door, eager not to be spotted staring into someone else’s room. A maneuver that put him directly in the path of the man stepping out of the room opposite, the two colliding so hard that the twin batches of swearing temporarily drowned out both the music and the train.

“…Sorry about that,” the new man muttered after a moment, rubbing his own shoulder. Fedora, oversized trench coat worn over a suit that looked a little too new, and a piercing stare that returned Abe’s once over with one of its own. If Abe wasn’t already suspicious enough, he’d felt something during that collision and was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the stranger being happy to see him.

There were only so many people who’d travel with a hidden weapon close to hand, after all.

A number that should have included Abe, except he had been forced to turn over his gun before boarding the train with the assurance that it would stay in a weapon safe during the duration of the trip. Flashing his badge hadn’t helped, the conductor no doubt calling his bluff because they were leaving his jurisdiction—or was it that they weren’t in it at the time?

Point was, if this guy had a gun on him, that meant he either found a way to sneak it onboard or he had the kind of authority to get a pass from the conductor.

All of this passed through Abe’s mind rapidly, but not fast enough that there weren’t several seconds of awkward silence before he asked, “In a hurry to get somewhere?”

“…No,” the other man said, proving he wasn’t much of a liar, at least. He stepped back into the still open doorway behind him and gestured for Abe to move on. “Please, you first. I’m sure your companion will be wondering where you’re at.”

Companion? Where’d he get that idea?

“No, I’m traveling alone. Same as you, I’m guessing?”

“Yes?” His eyes went past Abe to the room he’d just left, brow furrowing in confusion before he made a visible effort to relax it. “I mean, yes, it’s just me for now. Traveling for work.”

“Work? What kind of work is that?” Abe asked, trying to appear open and only as curious as a fellow traveler might be even as he glanced at the room behind the man, the quick glance enough to tell him that it was much smaller than his own (a fact he didn’t think possible until now), with no sign of any convenient personal belongings left out and about to give a hint as to their owner.

The man paused, clearly not having prepared for follow up questions, and finally said, “Oh, boring stuff. Like 99% of it’s just, you know, paperwork to make the home office happy. What about you, where are you headed?”

The question came quickly, Abe thinking less because the guy was interested and more because he didn’t want to leave an opening to ask what the other 1 percent was supposed to be.

“Oh just…to the next stop, same as everyone else on here I guess.”

The awkward silence lasted much longer this time, both men struggling to come up with any more small talk without the risk of having to answer their own questions. Abe broke it first with a clearing of his throat and said, “I, uh, was just going to get some fresh air. See you around, uh…”

“Apless,” the man answered immediately, showing the barest hint of a wince around the eyes before he continued, “Harold Apless.”

“My name’s Abe,” Abe answered, distracted by the realization that the previously overwhelming music seemed to have stopped at some point without his noticing it. “Nice to meet you, Happy.”

“My name’s not—”

The protest gave way to a defeated sigh behind Abe as he pulled open the car’s door and stopped in the small space between cars where the shaking and jolting was worse than ever. The enclosed space wasn’t made for people to stay here long, with doors to either side for boarding when the train wasn’t in motion providing enough gaps for the freezing cold outside to seep in. As different from that crowded room, too packed with dancers to even breathe, as he could get.

Dancers?

Abe winced and rubbed his eyes, dispelling that memory as quickly as he could. That’s why he was here, right? To get some distance between himself and…all of that.

Abe took a deep breath and exhaled, fogging up the glass of the nearby window, the welcome chill still enough to make him glad he hadn’t taken off his black leather jacket, and continued on through the next door and into what proved to be the lounge car.

Wooden paneling and low, flickering lamps set in intervals along the walls gave the lounge a warm, comfortable air, helped by plush armchairs seated in rows to either side around the windows and small, round tables. A thick, elegant carpet ran the length of the car and muffled the noise of the wheels underneath to the point it felt too quiet when Abe entered, not helped by how few people were seated or talking around the room.

A small bar area at the opposite end gave Abe something to aim for as he walked the length of the car, checking faces and counting heads out of habit.

Not that there were many to keep track of.

There was a woman dressed in bright, flamboyant colors underneath a white jacket, a bandana holding her long, wavy hair out of the way as she studied the mass of papers and books covering every inch of the table in front of her. From what he saw as he passed by, said papers and books all looked like a bunch of plans and equations so dense that his brain refused to take any of it in out of self-defense.

She on the other hand was so utterly focused that her lips moved along with thoughts that she couldn’t seem to keep contained within herself, occasionally sparing a hand from the coffee cup she held in front of her for lack of anywhere else to put it to push her glasses back in place or retrieve the pencil behind her ear to make another note in the same handwriting that littered all of the papers. For her, Abe and the rest of the train may as well not have existed for all it mattered in the moment.

The other two passengers he passed next did notice him, but were so engrossed in their conversation over a game of chess that the older woman wearing a black burnoose and dress littered with silver stars and matching jewelry could only spare him a friendly smile. Across from her, a man dressed in khaki with a brown leather jacket not all that dissimilar to the one Abe was wearing tilted the brim of his brown hat in the detective’s direction without looking away from the board, his hand still resting on the knight as he considered the consequences of his move.

“Well, you can tell me more about the monkeys or avoid losing your rook, but I’m afraid you can’t do both, dear.”

“Funnily enough, I’m pretty sure one of those monkeys stole my traveling chess set. That or my assistant on that little adventure still had it on him when we realized the simians weren’t quite ready to give up their piece of the map.”

“A real shame, that,” the woman said, shaking her head. “To shreds, you say?”

Abe had several questions, but he kept walking toward the bar with the confidence that a good drink would be less likely to leave him with regret in the long run.

 Or it would have, if he hadn’t reached the bar just as the bartender stopped what he was doing and looked up, his customer service smile disappearing with a flash of recognition.

He’d recognize that handsome face and look of distress and horror anywhere, especially since aside from the emblem of the train company on his lapel and a splash of dark red on his tie and handkerchief, his outfit really wasn’t all that different from the getup he wore back when he was Mark’s butler.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Abe asked and Benjamin shushed him with a glance at the other passengers.

“Language!” Benjamin hissed, his own voice lowered to just above a whisper. “Please do not disturb the other passengers.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, pal,” Abe said, obliging him with a low growl.

“I am not your pal,” Benjamin said, straightening his already ridiculously broad shoulders and trying to look prim and proper like Abe hadn’t seen him threaten a man with a feather duster once. “And I should think it’s rather obvious that I am working here. Would you like something to drink?”

“I think you and me already know the answer to that one,” Abe said, and Benjamin rolled his eyes before reaching under the bar for the strong stuff. “Now you’re talking.”

Abe sidled onto one of the stools, turned so that he could keep an eye on the butler turned bartender and the rest of the carriage.

“I had to make my way somehow after my last employer…” Benjamin paused, lip trembling, and with an effort he shook himself and poured Abe a healthy dose in a glass before pulling a second glass for himself. Pushing the glass toward Abe, he asked, “What brings you here, detective?”

Abe took the drink and took a long sip before setting it down with a sigh, because it was rude to leave a good drink waiting.

That, and he had to stall for an answer somehow, but the best he could come up with was to turn it around with another question as he asked, “Why do you think I’m here?”

Benjamin gulped down the contents of his glass, which admittedly was barely a splash of alcohol poured out before his conscience caught up with him, and swiftly put the glass out of sight before any of the others saw him drinking on the job.

“Still chasing leads then?”

Abe shrugged. “Maybe.”

Looking out over the rest of the lounge car in search of a change of subject, Abe suddenly said, “Not a lot of people here, huh? Guess they’re all hiding out in their rooms.”

“Mm, no, I think this is about half of the guests on this particular trip,” Benjamin answered, and it was his turn to shrug when Abe turned a disbelieving stare on him. “Look around, detective. This is hardly vacationing weather in country that I assure you is much more pleasant in the spring, and at this time of the year the only people crossing the country by train are those who have somewhere they need to be and no other way to get there.”

He gestured toward the back of the train behind him and continued, “There is so little interest that we only have the one passenger car for this leg of the journey. There is just the dining car behind this, and a mail car we are taking to the next station as a way to earn enough revenue to even justify running the train as scheduled. On the other hand, I believe the services we provide during the journey will more than make this a trip to remember for all of our esteemed passengers.”

“I’m not tipping you extra for that.”

Benjamin scowled and made a pretense of cleaning the other side of the already pristine surface of the bar to put some distance between him and the detective.

Fine by Abe, who removed himself from the bar stool and took a more comfortable seat in the corner of the car.

Somehow knowing that there were so few people on board made this trip feel more…not sad, although it was kind of sad in a pathetic sort of way. Gloomy, maybe, with the darkening sky outside and the white snow coming down sideways in the train’s wake? No, more than that. There was another word for the mood settling in around Abe’s shoulders.

“Perhaps loneliness,” Wilford suggested.

“More like ominous, like a premonition of things to come,” Abe answered before freezing in place, the narration that threatened to spill out of him hitting a hard pause on that thought, his eyes still on the dark windows where he could see the reflection of the man sitting opposite him, smile gleaming and eyes twinkling like he was waiting for the joke to sink in.

Abe held his breath and turned his head, as though expecting both man and reflection to disappear when he laid eyes on the real thing.

Instead, the colorful man in an extravagant yellow and pink confectionary of a suit crossed his legs and settled further back into his plush seat, looking around the train car with undisguised wonder. His drawling, unhinged voice stirred up the worst kind of memories in Abe as he said, “You sure do know how to travel in style, don’t you detective?”

Abe nearly spilled his drink reaching for a gun that wasn’t there, a thousand questions running through his mind although most of them could be summed up by the words that finally made their way out of his mouth after a bout of helpless sputtering:

“What the hell?!”

Wilford took a sip of hot chocolate from a vibrant pink mug and swished it around his mouth thoughtfully before answering. God, Abe hoped that was hot chocolate. Wilford hyped up on coffee was a nightmare waiting to happen, and he already felt like he was in a waking one of those.

“The suit’s a bit much, isn’t it? But unlike you, I happen to enjoy dressing to the occasion. That, and apparently trousers are ‘mandatory’ around these parts, for some reason.”

Of all the feelings Abe expected when he laid eyes on Wilford Warfstache again, “relief” wasn’t one of them, but then he’d also never considered the apparently non-zero chance of running into his greatest enemy pantsless either.

“Aw, you think I’m the greatest?” Wilford said, his brown eyes crinkling with a smile.

“My greatest enemy, and don’t do that,” Abe answered, and if anything, Wilford’s smile just grew wider. “It’s not a compliment! How did you even get here?!”

Abe realized it was a ridiculous question as soon as he asked it, but Wilford seriously considered it before shrugging.

“Same as you, I suppose. Say, where’s this train going, anyways?”

“Why would you get on a train without knowing where you’re going?” Abe asked.

Another shrug. “Something, something, ‘life is about the journey, not the destination,’ or whatever it is people put on the postcards. What do you think they do for fun around here?”

Wilford turned around in his chair again to look over his shoulder at the other passengers, the silence except for the background noise of the train positively deafening.

“Huh. Not much, by the look of things. Bet we can do something to liven things up around here, what do you say, you old—”

Wilford’s words stopped short on his lips when he turned back around and found the detective inches away, a finger dangerously close to his nose as Abe spoke in a low growl.

“You’re not doing a thing on this trip, Colonel. The second we get off, I’m going to put you down.” Abe paused, aware something hadn’t come out right there. “I mean, the next stop this train makes, you’re under arrest.”

“Huh, I think you’re the only one who still calls me that,” Wilford said, unbothered by the threat.

“In fact,” Abe continued, too angry to be deterred by Wilford’s calm, “You’re already under arrest, and if I catch even a whiff of you trying to escape or laying even a finger on anyone else on this train, I’ll…”

He let the threat hang in the air unspoken, mostly because he couldn’t think of a way to finish it. His gun was locked away, and he couldn’t be sure the same could be said for Wilford, not if that Happy guy was able to keep his own weapon. That, and he knew all too well what Wilford could be capable of when the mood took him.

Wilford looked down at Abe’s finger still pointing in his face and gave it a little kiss before saying, “Whatever you say, detective. I’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”

“…Why do I feel like that’s not a very high bar?”

Wilford winked and toasted Abe with his mug of hot chocolate before taking a sip. The gesture revealed the black block letters printed on the side of the mug to Abe for the first time: SPOILER ALERT!

((End of Part 1. Hope you enjoyed it! I'm going to try to space each part by a couple of days or so, just because they're all on the longer side. For the record, no, that's not Actor Mark, but he is a Mark ego. Sort of. You'll see. Genuinely curious how many people know/remember Harold Apless. As far as I know he was only ever referenced on the ISWM website, and we only got a Noirverse photo of him. Haven't fully committed to who I imagine as "playing" him, maybe Sean? But judging by the shows' history that means he would actually end up being played by MatPat, so...

Link to Part 2: An Easy Offer to Refuse.

Also a confession about the tag list: it's, uh, been so long since I've written anything I'm not sure if this is the most up-to-date version at all. I also ended up removing a lot of urls that no longer connected to a blog, so I may have accidentally deleted a few valid ones. If you'd like to be added or removed, please just let me know in a comment.

Said hopefully not too out of date taglist: @silver-owl413 @asteriuszenith @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @95fangirl @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-star-eyes @shyinspiredartist @avispate @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox @hidinginmybochard

))

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

'Maybe I'm just an anomaly'

'I was never meant to win'

[dizzybevvie]

Illinois is a more likable character than Yancy by a MILE but you guys wont believe me bc Yancy has a musical number <\3

[redwitchrune]

most people have a jumpscare reaction to the first note of black parade. i however have a visceral reaction to the first note of that fuckass song markiplier uses in his choose your own adventure videos at the end