Even when Ethan had been living off a few hours sleep every night and had been tortured daily, he had never felt so mentally down. He didn't feel hungry so he ended up skipping the majority of his meals. The only times he did eat was when Blank told him to. He didn't even have the energy to record, despite usually being a bundle of energy and hyperactivity. He did force himself to film videos though because he had a schedule to stick to; he just hoped no one would notice.

They did.

Ethan, are you okay? You seem quiet.

Is it just me or is he less hyper and loud? He isn't really himself.

You look really tired. Are you getting enough sleep? If YouTube is stressing you out then you could always take a break. We'll understand<3

Ethan let out a short groan as he shut his laptop. He felt guilty that so many people were worrying about him but the only thing that he could think of that might help him get better was Mark. And he was hours away in another state.

That night, Ethan curled up in Mark's bed, wearing one of his jumpers that were slightly too big on him. The sleeves came passed his hands but he liked it that way. It made him feel warm. Safe. Secure. His eyes fluttered shut and he drifted into the dream world easily, something that had become almost second nature to him. He'd never have to toss or turn in bed, he'd just fall asleep almost immediately.

Blank was pacing up and down, pulling at his hair. His face looked even paler than usual and the black shirt he always wore was hanging off him, as if he had lost weight. "...Blank?" Ethan questioned, hesitantly approaching his ego. Blank met his eyes so that Ethan could see the black tear tracks on his face. He was breaking down.

"I can't do this. I need him. Without him I'm nothing. We should die. Die together." Blank was mumbling so fast that his words were merging together but the other could still make out the majority of what he was saying.

"Blank... you don't need him." But he didn't say no to killing himself.

"I do. I do, I do, I do." Blank's hand was tucked in his pocket so he pulled it out, revealing that he had a knife. "I need him like you need Mark."

Ethan understood what he was trying to say but Mark was different. He was a good person.  He wasn't a liar nor a murderer. "But Mark doesn't want to hurt us."

"You think that but he left you alone. He's gone and just look at yourself. You don't eat and you're suffering. This is his fault."

He didn't want to believe him but he could see his point. Mark had just left him. "He doesn't know I'm hurting."

"But has he even bothered to contact you? He hasn't... because he doesn't care. Dark doesn't care."

"Okay," His voice was barely above a whisper. "Let's end this pain together."

­­-

Ethan's body was shaking as blood dripped down onto the floor from the lines on his wrist. He had never seen so much of the red and he couldn't help but see beauty within it. Blank was beside him, breathing  gently as his eyes flickered shut. His wrists were in the same state, if anything worse.

"ETHAN!" Someone yelled. Mark. Ethan desperately looked around the room but couldn't see anyone. He started to panic as regret flooded his body. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. "PLEASE WAKE UP! I CAN'T LOSE YOU!"

"Mark..." Ethan's voice was weak and shaky. He reached out and grabbed Blank's hand that was getting colder by the minute. If he was going to wake up, Blank was coming with him.

Ethan's eyes opened. They were heavy as he avoided Mark's gaze. "I'm sorry," He cried. He sat up and a cloud of black air exited his body before forming the shape of a man. Blank. He had a physical form. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to die."

"We need to clean you up. I don't think either of you have... uh... cut deep enough to need stitches."  Mark took both Blank and Ethan's cold hands and pulled them into the bathroom. He grabbed a roll of toilet paper and pressed some into the cuts on both of their wrists. It didn't take long for the tissue to be covered in red.

"Is he here? Is he going to come and get us?" Blank muttered, black tears rolling down his face as usual.

"Not at the moment. We're safe until we sleep." Ethan replied because it was fairly obvious Mark wasn't listening. He was pressing the tissues into Ethan's wrists, looking away every so often and grimacing at the sight of blood.

"No, no, no. He's getting stronger. He almost has a physical form."

"He won't get either of you, okay? I'll make sure of it." Mark might as well have been wearing a cape or some shining armour: he was Ethan and Blank's saviours.

Or WiLl He?