#dr. host

“…To die at last, then. They feel their hearts stop and they become nothing.”

The Host takes a moment to breathe as the power recedes. He and Dr. Iplier had been taking a walk together (at night, probably not the best idea in hindsight) when a group of men (thieves willing to kill) ambushed them. They hadn’t expected the Host’s power, though, and died as pathetically as they'd likely lived. Now that the excitement is over, Dr. Iplier rushes to Host, holding his shoulders like he means to support him. Host doesn’t know why he’d need to, he – oh, wait, now he knows; his legs start melting under him, and Dr. Iplier yelps as he holds him up.

“I think…” Host says, “That I’m out of practice.”

“I think you’re right, hon,” Dr. Iplier replies, helping Host along as the pair trudge home.

Host spares enough narration to see the, frankly, obscene amount of blood that’s poured out of his eyes and is staining his trenchcoat. The fact that he can’t much feel the warmth of it soaking through is worrisome, but perhaps his body is distracted by how badly its shivering. His teeth chatter, but he isn’t sure if he’s cold or exhausted. He clings to Dr. Iplier with one hand, but his grip shakes. Even Host’s narrations are trembling, wavering through the air too weakly to stir it.

“Be quiet,” Dr. Iplier scolds him, “You’ve narrated enough for tonight.”

“Is that the thanks I get for rescuing you?” Host quips.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” Dr. Iplier sighs, like he’s reciting the words from a page, and finds the one bloodless spot on Host’s cheek to kiss. “Will you be quiet, now?”

“You make a difficult damsel in distress, love.”

“I’m not a damsel in distress! Among other reasons, you killed those people before they had a chance to even touch me.”

“Mm, that I did. I d-don’t know why I’m so shaky now, it was only a f-few sentences…”

“Woah, hey!” Dr. Iplier cries, pulling Host back up against him as he starts to slide to the ground. “Probably because you killed them instantly and painfully at the same time somehow, and you know that takes a lot of power!” The worry in his voice heightens. “We’re almost home, just hang in there. You’re gonna need some transfusions.”

“S-Sounds correct,” Host wheezes, still trembling. The damp of his blood in his clothes is cold now, and his body feels cold, too. It’s not that strange, he always runs cold, but now his hands feel like ice blocks, and though he can’t move them, couldn’t release his grip on Dr. Iplier if he tried, they continue to shake as much as the rest of him. Host is surprised he hasn’t accidentally wiggled out of his doctor’s hold by now. He’s used to the effects of low-level blood loss, but this is much worse than the norm.

His mind hardly notices when Dr. Iplier finally pulls him into Ego Inc., but his body does, and he turns to jelly in Dr. Iplier’s arms, limp and motionless yet still trembling.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Dr. Iplier mutters, continuing to pull Host along, “You’re staying wide awake until we get to my clinic, even if I have to slap you awake.”

“So c-cruel,” Host whispers, shuddering, “You’d h-hit a defenseless b-blind man?”

“You’re far from defenseless,” Dr. Iplier scoffs, “Unless you’ve already forgotten how you lost all that blood in the first place.”

“Mm,” Host mumbles. Talking feels like too much effort, suddenly. All the strength he has left is going into his jittering, the eternal trembling that makes Host wonder if he’ll ever be able to stand still again.

Things come in and out of focus. He thinks he’s in the elevator, then not. Dr. Iplier yells at him, and yes, slaps him at least once, but Host barely registers. He only knows when he’s laid down, because he’s finally able to relax. Dr. Iplier said for him to stay awake until they reached the clinic, yes? So in the clinic they must be, and Host cannot stay awake any longer.

~~~

When Host wakes, he’s surprised to find that he’s still.

The trembling has stopped. His muscles ache from the previous movement, but for now they are relaxed, loose. Host is no longer so cold, and his trenchcoat and shirt have been replaced with softer, cleaner clothes. He’s no longer holding onto Dr. Iplier’s coat, but Dr. Iplier is holding onto him: His hand is loose over Host’s, and Host imagines he must be asleep. Host narrates a little to confirm it, and also finds that there’s an IV in his other arm. He sighs lightly, resigned to staying here for a while. He turns his head towards Dr. Iplier, narrating to more clearly see the bags under his eyes – but no tears, at least, which Host is grateful for. He would’ve hated to upset his doctor.

“Are you sure about this, Anti?”

Marvin wants nothing more than to go back home, but Anti has a tight grip on his arm.  The magician can feel Anti’s sharp nails digging a little into his skin; a warning to keep still.

They’re currently hiding in the Iplier Ego’s building, hidden away in an office in the part of the building nobody used.  The only thing keeping them from getting caught is Marvin’s magic and Anti’s ability to glitch through the security systems.  And though Marvin has yet to meet most of the Iplier Egos, he’s very much aware that almost all of them could kill him and Anti if given the motivation.  And sneaking into their building definitely counts as motivation.  

“For the last time, yes.” Anti sneers.  This had, of course, been his idea.  He wouldn’t go into details on it, but he and Dark had apparently gotten into another one of their so-called “fights” yesterday (you could barely call them fights, it was more of insulting each other’s prides until someone broke it up).    And usually Anti lets it go and moves on, but not this time.  He insisted that today would be the day he finally got back at Dark.

Which, apparently, required Anti to drag Marvin away from the comfort of his room and force him into this really, REALLY dangerous situation.  

“Why did you even bring me here?  If we get caught they’re gonna kill us both!” Marvin whined, and he pouts when Anti smacks him on the head.

“Because you’re exactly what I need to get back at Dark!  That bastard thinks he’s so much better than me.” Anti growls, and he starts to glitch more in place as his anger starts to rise.  “He wants to act all High and Mighty, but he’s weak.  We’re taking him down, now.”

“We?” Marvin whimpers, and he flinches when Anti’s nails bite further into his skin.  The demon notices this and lets go; he takes a deep breath to calm himself, and the glitching goes down slightly.  It’s a step in the right direction, Marvin notes, so he listens to what Anti has to say.  

“I just need you to cast a spell for me, Marv.  That’s all I’m asking for.” Marvin narrows his eyes a little through his mask.

“You want me to cast a spell on Dark?” Anti nods.  Marvin stares at him for a moment longer, weighing his options carefully, before speaking again.  “And then we can go home?”

“And then we can go home.” It’s quiet for a moment, and Anti is practically holding his breath as he waits for Marvin’s decision.  He’s close to snapping at the other when Marvin finally speaks up.

“Alright, I’ll do it.  But you have to do my chores for a week.” Marvin should be a little worried about the wicked smirk Anti gives him, but he’s already committed to getting this over with.  So now all he can do is listen to Anti’s plan, curious to know his plan on getting back at Dark.  

______________________________

“…So, based on these calculations, it might be best if we moved our focus to…”

Dark can’t even bother to pretend that he’s listening to Google at this point.  The android is standing in front of the TV in their meeting room, going over some data he and his brothers had been working on this week.  It’s important, Dark knows this, but having to listen to Google speaking for so long with that monotonous voice of his…it’s enough to drive him insane.

“The Host speaks up apologetically, interrupting Google in the middle of his presentation.  He turns to Dark and suggests ending the meeting early.  He then apologizes to Google again, but points out that nobody has been listening to his speech.  Perhaps it would be better to meet again tomorrow, when everyone may be more alert.”

“Wait, have none of you been listening to me this entire time?” Google looks offended, and he narrows his eyes when Bim and Wilford snicker.  “This is a waste of my time.  Let me know when you all want to take this seriously.”

Google storms out of the room, flipping off the two show-hosts  when they burst out laughing at his expense.  Dark pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly; it wasn’t even noon and he was already done with today.  

He glances at the remaining egos at the table.  Silver and Ed both looked bored, and Dr. Iplier had zoned out about five minutes into the meeting.  Bim and Wilford are still laughing at the other end of the table, each taking turns mocking Google.  Dark has to resist the urge to slam his head on the table.  Host seems fine, but Dark can sense that the other wants this meeting over just as much as he does.  

“We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow; meeting adjourned.” Ed and Silver are gone almost immediately; it’s not surprising, those two always preferred being on their own.  Bim is the next one to leave, skipping over to his studio to work on his latest skit.  Dr. Iplier and Host stay to chat with one another quietly, and Dark stands as Wilford saunters over to his side of the table.

“I suggest you don’t antagonize Google anymore than you already have.” The pink ego just smirks mischievously, and Dark feels himself smile lightly in return.  Even when Wilford got on his nerves, the other could always get him to smile.      

“I’ll stop antagonizing him when he stops being so antagonizable.” Dark is about to point out that- no, that’s not actually a word, but he shuts his mouth when the Host shoots up suddenly.  Dr. Iplier flinches away automatically, and everyone stares at the Host with a mix of confusion and worry.

“The Host senses something is wrong.” Wilford and Dark are on immediate alert, both using their auras to try and sense what has the Host so upset.  Dr. Iplier stands and puts a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“What’s wrong?  C’mon hon, what is it?” The Host is mumbling nervously under his breath, using his powers to try and find what was wrong.  He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but he had been hit with a sudden feeling of danger.  It makes no sense to him, but he’s learned to not question things like this; if his own abilities were trying to warn him of something that even he couldn’t predict, then something horrible was going to happen.

“I feel it too.” Wilford narrows his eyes, a bright pink glow encompassing his body as his aura searched for any threats.  Dark stood next to him, his own black aura surrounding himself.  Wilford pulled his gun out of his waistband, and Dr. Iplier gulped nervously.  He turned back to the Host, biting his lip in worry.

“What’s happening?” The Host shakes his head in frustration, and Dr. Iplier watches as blood seep through his bandages as he continues searching.  “Something is blocking the Host from seeing.  He is using almost all of his powers, but he is unable to narrate what is happening.”

“What the hell is going on?” Dark snaps, his aura ringing loudly in his frustration.  For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t have control; it’s putting him and the others on edge as they fail to find the source.  But he can feel it too; something chaotic and foreign to him, promising nothing but trouble.  It makes his blood boil.  

“You shouldn’t have underestimated me.”

All of the egos snap their attention to the door to see two figures in the doorway.  How had none of them noticed them until now?

Dark narrowed his eyes.  It’s Anti, that pathetic excuse of an ego, and…Marvin?  Dark tried to remember what he knew of the other, and it wasn’t much.  A harmless magician who wore a cat mask and a cape; not something he had seen as a potential threat.  But now the magical ego is standing in the doorway, his hands glowing brightly and facing out towards Dark.

“Anti, what is the meaning of this?” Dark growls, and he feels his shell beginning to shatter dangerously.  Marvin, intimidated by the power display, takes a hesitant step back.  But Anti, on the other hand, only looks more excited with Dark’s rage; his smirk widens, and Dark’s hands twitch with the urge to attack.  From his peripheral he sees Wilford aim his pistol at the Septics, making a show of taking off the safety.  

“I’m gonna enjoy this.  Marvin, now.”

Suddenly, a searing white light fills the room, followed by a high pitch ringing that shakes everyone to their core.  Wilford’s body trembles, but he forces himself to open his eyes; everything hurts.  He takes a deep breath, fighting against the dizziness and urge to pass out.

He looks around the room, disoriented and nauseous from whatever had just happened.  His vision is blurry, but he can see Dr. Iplier and the Host curled up together on the floor; his heart clenches when he sees his two friends are unconscious.  He’s about to start looking for Dark when he spots the two blurred figures in the doorway.  

Anti and Marvin are still here, and they both look just as disoriented as he feels…this is his only shot.  Despite the show he puts on, Wilford is not an idiot.  He realizes, even in this state, that they won’t be there for much longer.  So he does what he does best.

He aims his pistol and fires.  Through the dizziness he sees a bullet go through the magician’s shoulder; the ego wails, covering the wound with desperate and shaky hands.  Wilford laughs breathlessly and collapses to his knees, his body shutting down from whatever Marvin had done.  But he still feels victorious as he vaguely hears the two Septic Egos freaking out.  He shuts his eyes for a moment to fight off the dizziness, and when he looks back up the two are gone.  Anti had probably mustered up the strength to glitch them out of there, the lucky bastard.

With the immediate threat gone, Wilford falls to the side with a huff.  He hadn’t planned on being ambushed today, but he supposes nobody really plans for that anyways.  His head is starting to hurt, and his eyes are becoming heavy; passing out has never sounded so lovely to him than in this moment.

He glances over to the side where he knows Dark should have collapsed, and he is surprised when he sees two figures curled into one another.  One is a man in a suit, the other is a women in a dress.  There’s something familiar about the two, but Wilford’s mind and body are shutting down too fast for him to process.

He’ll deal with it when he wakes up.

I hope you guys liked this! I’m gonna start working on part 2 eventually :D