#temp tag: marc/emma

[dreamyxlore]

{ just thoughts... }

so I originally posted this -- mentioning that there was a reason that, though not in ALL of their universes, Themma HAD to have kids in Some.

and I was looking at this again cause of notes the original post was getting and my brain got going again, and I was like...

imagine mara just COMPLETELY idolizing her dads, and seeing them in the Suit, but marc's is her favorite, and so emma finds a way to make her, Her Own

and khonshu seeing this shi and that old fuckin' bird being like

{ forgive that ver large image, I couldn't find the gif ANYWHERE }

ANYWAYS!

so then it's like

actually khonshu: "I could always make the little one her own--" emma and marc at the same time: "NO."

just thoughts...

that I might elaborate on more later.

[thexsanctuaryx]

ʚ♡ɞ I'll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

➳ NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } marc and emma arrive in the same wing of the same mental hospital at the same time. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector, emma harper x steven grant, and emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, first meeting, angst { I guess? I don't know what else to call it. } { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I've done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. Marc is a danger to himself here but it's only really alluded to in this part. mental hospitals. triggering themes related to the aforementioned. { author's note: } I recently finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction and it inspired me to work on an idea I've been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this. This series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your story DOES deserve to be told. { word count: } 969 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

They’d been admitted the same night, after lights out, two frozen bodies sitting in the darkened day room waiting to be assigned a bed.

It was unusual for two people to land in the same wing at the same time, let alone this late at night but that’s just how it happened.

She sits quietly, fully believing she’s in some kind of limbo between this life and the next – that somehow this was just how her brain was processing her passing, waiting to be judged.

She wonders if the man, slumped in the chair half a dozen feet from her is also recently deceased. Or so she believes.

He seems sullen and she wonders if perhaps he’d taken his own life to end up here in this seeming waystation.

Despite his deep scowl, she finds him beautiful. And then she thinks to herself, maybe he’s an angel and it’s some kind of test to see how she’ll interact with him.

As his eyes rise to hers, his frown etches further into his features. “You're staring…” He mutters, rolling his shoulders tensely.

“Sorry—” Emma apologizes, tearing her eyes away. “I was just—wondering if you were okay…” She mumbles softly.

“Would I be here if I were okay?” He replies.

Emma confuses his meaning, again thinking maybe this in the afterlife. And again, she thinks he must’ve taken his life.

‘Marc—come on, she seems sweet…’ A voice in his mind says, whose worried expression reflects from the window to the hallway.

“How can you possibly tell that, Steven?” He mutters again.

When he speaks to someone that doesn’t appear to be in the room, she starts to turn the options over in her mind.

Maybe he’s hearing voices like she started to this morning before…before it happened…

Or maybe she just can’t see the person he’s speaking to because that person is on a spiritual plane she can’t comprehend yet.

Still, she’s sure it’s all a test.

“Who is Steven?” she asks gently, trying to help.

Marc’s eyes flash to hers again, that seem to look on him with such an innocence that even he can’t see her question as malicious.

“Is he here too?” She asks, looking confused but somehow so compassionate.

This in turn confuses him.

‘I don’t think she’s here for the same reason we are, mate…” Steven says within their headspace, looking at the girl with such soft regard.

There’s a small pout at Marc’s lips as he studies her. She radiates a kind of sensitive and soothing energy that belongs far away from a place like this.

He can’t help but soften along with Steven.

Another presence moves into focus in their shared space. He takes one look at the girl and feels his own protective nature kick in.

‘Who’s this?’

Marc doesn’t realize how long the silence has lingered between them until Jake speaks.

All the while, she continues looking softly at him, occasionally shying away her eyes.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me…” Emma breaks the silence.

Marc shakes his head slowly, somehow finding himself more worried about her than he is about himself at this point.

“What’s your name?” He asks, tempering his voice.

She swallows, tucking some hair behind her ear. “E-Emma…” She rolls her lips in, causing dimples to dip lightly into her cheeks as her eyes glance away shyly again.

Jake watches stunned from the reflection beside Steven.

He doesn’t know where it comes from, but he only softens more. “I’m Marc…” he introduces himself.

Emma eyes rise to his again, nodding slowly.

Her mind is already moving on, asking quietly, “do you know how long we’ll be here?”

Marc mistakes her meaning, just assuming it must be her first time on a psychiatric hold.

“72 hours—they have to—”

Emma’s already talking over him, more to herself but audible enough for the three of them to hear. “Three days? Like Easter?” She wonders aloud.

Marc’s eyebrows pull together, his mouth hanging open a little. “huh?”

“Easter—” Emma repeats. “Jesus came back to life after three days…”

‘Oh I—Marc I don’t think she knows what’s happening at all…’ Steven tells him.

Marc blinks slowly, but continues to soften, “do you know where you are right now, Emma?”

She shakes her head quickly and her shoulders pulling up to her ears, “I think it’s—well it’s kinda like limbo, right?” She pauses, furrowing her own brow. “We’re waiting to be judged…” She does her best to explain.

An ache goes through his chest, somehow his situation seems to pale in comparison with hers.

“No, Emma—” He starts, but is abruptly cut off when the floor staff comes to collect her first.

Fear seems to come over her face and it’s all he can do to stay in his chair, knowing that causing a scene would end badly for one or both of them.

“I’ll see you tomorrow—okay?” Is all he can get out.

“Tomorrow?” Emma questions in a daze.

“Come on, Emma—let’s get you settled…” The woman ushers her out of the door. “Someone will be back for you in a minute, Marc.”

This does nothing to ‘settle’ Marc at all, in fact, even after they get him situated in a room he still can’t stop worrying.

And so there he lies, in the dark on his side in a twin sized bed that feels a little too small, wrapped in thin hospital blankets, unable to get his mind off of the beautiful girl somewhere in a room along the same hallway.

The same beautiful girl who likewise lies in the dark, wondering over an angel named Marc and what will come of her.

Of one thing was certain for both of them, sleep wouldn’t come so easily tonight.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } marc requests his court hearing and is signed off to be released before knowing what will happen with emma's. they're forced into an all too swift goodbye. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector { content: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, angst { I guess? I don’t know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes, cliffhanger? { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I’ve done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. mental hospitals. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma’s psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned { author’s note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I’d been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { word count: } 1,208 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

The next morning she wakes up all too early, feeling groggy and unsure of where she is. The door to the little white room is cracked and she can hear people speaking outside of it.

She swallows roughly as she rubs a fist at her eye, unsure of whether or not this is real. As her socks hit the floor, she makes her way slowly to the door, reaching to push it open but withdrawing her hand apprehensively.

She knows now more than ever that she doesn’t want to be here anymore, wherever here is.

She finally pushes the door open, clearing her throat quietly to make her presence known. She wonders how long she slept, if it truly was sleeping.

One of the female floor staff greets her indifferently and she can’t resist the urge to ask what time it is.

“6:34AM.” Is the short answer she receives.

Emma scowls.

Time seemed to move so differently here.

She asks how much longer she has to stay here, and the woman replies that she can request her court hearing if it her 72 hours are up.

Emma hesitantly tells her that, “she’d like that, please.”

Anything if it meant getting out of this seeming prison.

The staff tells her that she’ll get things moving, for now to just head back to her room.

Emma nods, rubbing at her eyes again as she’s led out of the office area to the hallway.

She’s so disoriented that it’s a miracle that she notices him sitting there in the darkened day room. Largely because, as if knowing she was there, his head shoots up.

He’d slept for maybe two hours, finally getting up and sitting on the floor in the hallway. The staff had taken pity on him and allowed him to sit in the day room since they were going to begin morning vitals soon anyway.

He’d immediately risen when she’d stepped foot through the door to the hallway, doing his best not to completely rush over toward her.

He’s never wanted to hug someone so badly in his entire life, resisting every instinct to pull her into his arms.

“Marc…” She says, her voice laced with quiet relief to see him. She shouldn’t be surprised that her angel would be there waiting for her when she’d gotten through what had been one of the scariest nights for her to date.

“Hey…” He replies with a look of soft anguish over his features. Trying to lighten her spirits, he teases, “Someday you’re gonna have to tell me how you do that.”

She doesn’t need him to clarify, she already knows he means the way she’d recognized him from the other two – even without needing him to speak.

Like him, it feels wrong to not embrace him at a time like this, but she doesn’t want to risk wrath.

“You look tired.” She tells him just above a whisper, her own expression riddled with concern as her mind moves on.

“Rough night,” He brushes off, turning the attention back to her. “Are you okay?”

“I—I don’t know—they said they were going to request my court hearing?” She asks more than says.

Marc breathes a heavy sigh, “I already asked for ours…”

She tilts her head to the side, her brows furrowing together in confusion.

“Nobody explained how it works to you, did they?” He asks heavily.

Emma shakes her head slowly.

“Come on—I’ll try.”

And so he does.

For the next half an hour he tries to explain to her in the most basic of terms how the hearing will go down.

He’s sure once she’s there, her mind is going to turn it into something that it isn’t, but there’s nothing he can do that he hasn’t.

Vitals and breakfast pass in a flash and before they know it, he’s called for his own hearing.

It, likewise, passes quickly and he’s set to be released before lunch.

Emma has yet to hear about her own and this only puts him even more on edge.

He does his best to stall, hoping that she’ll be taken back before they’re released, but there’s still no word even as he’s taken to fill out, outtake paperwork.

There’s nothing that he can do once they hand him his copies and send him to pack.

He gathers his things as slowly as he can, but is quickly prompted to move things along faster so they can admit the patient taking his place.

This, all while Emma lurks closely by the door of the room fidgeting nervously with her fingers just out of sight.

“Alright, alright—I’m almost done—I just need to say goodbye to someone.”

Emma’s heart sinks at the word ‘goodbye,’ finding herself wanting to run and hide while simultaneously wanting to keep him there longer.

The staff tries to insist he needs to get going, but finally agrees to let him go to the day room – unaware that Emma stands just outside the door.

“You got five minutes.” He’s warned sternly.

As the staff leaves, he betrays where Emma stands, giving her an equally stern look.

Marc frowns and tosses the plastic bag of his belongings that he’s just finished filling aside on the floor just inside the door, moving around the corner of it. “Hey…I was about to come find you—”

“What if I never see you again?” Emma cuts him off, her voice cracking over the words.

Marc releases a heavy sigh through his nose, shaking his head as he struggles to find his own voice.

He knows they’re on borrowed time and tries to come up with any kind of plan.

She clutches the makeshift journal she’s created along with a couple crayons to her chest – the bright blue of the crayon on white printer paper catching his eye.

“Can I—?” He asks, eyeing the journal and nodding toward it.

Emma nods quickly, handing him the journal and crayons.

“Thank you.” He tells her softly, moving swiftly to write down their phone number and address – just in case.

“If you ever – ever – need anything—please – call us.” He says, looking her directly in the eyes to make sure she understands. “Okay?”

Emma nods, reaching for the journal.

As Marc hands it back he keeps a firm hold on it, “Promise?”

“Promise.” Emma agrees solemnly.

He releases the journal to her and reaches to tilt her head, pressing a hasty kiss to her hairline.

“We’ll always be there if you need us,” He makes a promise of his own.

He releases her just before the staff returns.

“Ready, Marc?”

“Yeah, I guess…” He replies, looking Emma over sadly.

The staff only prompts him again, “Marc.”

This snaps him out of his reverie, clearing his throat and reaching for his bags.

“I’ll see you…” He tells Emma, whose eyes are already welling up as she nods slowly.

The staff then rushes Marc toward the locked doors of the wing, leaving Emma standing there watching him go, sure that it’s the last she’ll ever see of her angel.

As he disappears behind the doors, a few tears slip down her cheeks, just standing there frozen staring at what she perceives as a portal to an unknown realm.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } emma and steven talk and the boys find out more about her. a plan is hatched...hopefully... { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x steven grant, emma harper x jake lockley, && emma harper x marc spector { contents: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, angst { I guess? I don’t know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I’ve done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. mental hospitals. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma’s psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned, vague mentions of abuse { author’s note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I’ve been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { word count: } 924 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

Emma plays with her fingers lightly some more, chewing on her lower lip as she looks at Steven.

Steven who – despite himself – can’t seem to stop himself from looking back at her with a soft, almost lovesick expression over his features. Almost – he lies to himself.

“You’re not American—like the others…” Emma observes.

It snaps Steven out of his thoughts.

“Oh—no, no—not really, I suppose…”

Emma nods, “I didn’t know angels could be British…”

“Oh I’m not—I mean—we—we’re not angels, love…”

Emma shakes her head, “I think you are…”

Steven has to once again try to stop himself from melting. He doesn’t intentionally want to confuse her but the words slip out before he can do anything about it.

“The only angel here is you.”

Emma frowns slightly, trying to piece it together in her struggling mind.

There’s a soft chuckle in his head from Jake, as Marc calls to him. ‘Steven, she’s gonna take you literally, buddy…’

“Right—sorry—I didn’t mean literally, love—I was just—well I s’pose I was just trying to—give you a compliment.” He corrects himself.

This only causes her to flush, looking away as she openly tries not to smile. A soft, “oh” escaping her lips.

Her mind seems to shift quickly, her expression saddening, a pout at her lips.

“What happens when we leave this place?”

Steven is somewhat caught off guard when she seems to take a dip emotionally. His chest tightening.

“Well—they release us and we get to go home…”

Emma only looks more troubled.

“What if I don’t want to go home?”

“Sorry?”

‘Keep her talking, Steven…’ Jake speaks up, just having a feeling something isn’t right by her response. ‘I wanna know what we’re up against.’

“Why don’t you want to go home, angel?”

She swallows roughly, her arms slipping around herself to hug her middle as if trying to hold herself together at the question. She shakes her head quickly, avoiding eye contact.

There’s a round of Spanish cursing in his head.

‘She’s completely shutting down—find out what you can, Steven.’ Marc’s voice tightens.

“D’you live alone?” He asks softly.

Emma shakes her head again, releasing a strained exhale.

“Is there someone at home that makes you feel—unsafe?”

Emma is quick to nod, hugging herself tighter.

“But you’re safe here—well maybe not here exactly—but right now, with, with us—you know that?”

She nods again.

“Good girl,” he says softly, searching out her eyes.

“D’you have a partner—that makes you feel unsafe?”

Jake is already cursing again, ‘I’ll fucking kill him…’

Emma shakes her head again, attempting to speak, “my—my m-mom…”

A shock goes through their system, a quiet, ‘oh baby…’ escaping from Marc.

“Your mum, makes you feel unsafe?” Steven seeks confirmation.

Emma nods quickly again, sniffling and squeezing her eyes shut as tears burn at them.

She tries to find the words, “if I have to go back home—does that mean—does that mean I’m going to hell?”

‘She did not just compare her home to hell…’ Marc seethes.

Steven moves closer, slowly so as not to scare her, showing her his hands before he brings them to cradle her face. He waits for her eyes to meet his, brushing away the tears the fall. “You’re not going to go to hell, love…”

‘We can’t let her go back there.’ Marc cuts in darkly.

‘I’m working on it, hermano…’ Jake agrees.

Emma falls into almost silent breathless sobs, her body trembling.

“Fuck the rules…” Steven mutters before protectively pulling her into his arms.

Emma immediately clings to him, because she does feel safer when they’re around. Safer than she’s maybe ever felt with anyone else.

She holds onto him as long as she can, everything seeming to slow down even for the moment.

‘We need to find out where she lives—’ Marc cuts through the silence.

‘We don’t even know her last name, Marc—and we can’t just ask her for her address…’

‘I don’t trust her mother—especially not in her current state. Hell, she could be the reason Emma went into psychosis in the first place.’

‘Steven.’ Jake interjects.

Steven smoothes over Emma’s hair, holding her against himself. When he pulls back, he cradles her face with one hand.

“What if—when we get out of this place—we came to see you?” He pauses, looking her over softly and speaking quietly. “Would that be alright, love?”

Emma nods quickly, screwing her fist in her eye as she pouts.

“We’ll give you our number, yeah? And you can just call us when you want to see us…” He brushes his thumb over her cheek.

Again, she nods vigorously, holding up a finger but not speaking as she disappears into her room for a moment.

He gives her a puzzled look, waiting for her to come back.

When she returns, she hands him a piece of paper that she’s scribbled her name and phone number on.

Steven only brightens, speaking softly so as not to overwhelm her.

“Emma Harper—that’s you?” He says fondly.

She gives a soft sob of a laugh, nodding again.

Taking the paper back, pen still in hand, she flips it over against a wall and scrawls her address on the back. She then hands it back.

“Thank you…” He says, giving her a gentle smile as he finds her eyes again.

‘Very good, Steven.’ Jake voices proudly in their headspace as Marc breathes a sigh of relief.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } marc and emma arrive in the same wing of the same mental hospital at the same time. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector, emma harper x steven grant, and emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, first meeting, angst { I guess? I don't know what else to call it. } { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I've done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. Marc is a danger to himself here but it's only really alluded to in this part. mental hospitals. triggering themes related to the aforementioned. { author's note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I've been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your story DOES deserve to be told. { word count: } 969 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

They’d been admitted the same night, after lights out, two frozen bodies sitting in the darkened day room waiting to be assigned a bed.

It was unusual for two people to land in the same wing at the same time, let alone this late at night but that’s just how it happened.

She sits quietly, fully believing she’s in some kind of limbo between this life and the next – that somehow this was just how her brain was processing her passing, waiting to be judged.

She wonders if the man, slumped in the chair half a dozen feet from her is also recently deceased. Or so she believes.

He seems sullen and she wonders if perhaps he’d taken his own life to end up here in this seeming waystation.

Despite his deep scowl, she finds him beautiful. And then she thinks to herself, maybe he’s an angel and it’s some kind of test to see how she’ll interact with him.

As his eyes rise to hers, his frown etches further into his features. “You're staring…” He mutters, rolling his shoulders tensely.

“Sorry—” Emma apologizes, tearing her eyes away. “I was just—wondering if you were okay…” She mumbles softly.

“Would I be here if I were okay?” He replies.

Emma confuses his meaning, again thinking maybe this in the afterlife. And again, she thinks he must’ve taken his life.

‘Marc—come on, she seems sweet…’ A voice in his mind says, whose worried expression reflects from the window to the hallway.

“How can you possibly tell that, Steven?” He mutters again.

When he speaks to someone that doesn’t appear to be in the room, she starts to turn the options over in her mind.

Maybe he’s hearing voices like she started to this morning before…before it happened…

Or maybe she just can’t see the person he’s speaking to because that person is on a spiritual plane she can’t comprehend yet.

Still, she’s sure it’s all a test.

“Who is Steven?” she asks gently, trying to help.

Marc’s eyes flash to hers again, that seem to look on him with such an innocence that even he can’t see her question as malicious.

“Is he here too?” She asks, looking confused but somehow so compassionate.

This in turn confuses him.

‘I don’t think she’s here for the same reason we are, mate…” Steven says within their headspace, looking at the girl with such soft regard.

There’s a small pout at Marc’s lips as he studies her. She radiates a kind of sensitive and soothing energy that belongs far away from a place like this.

He can’t help but soften along with Steven.

Another presence moves into focus in their shared space. He takes one look at the girl and feels his own protective nature kick in.

‘Who’s this?’

Marc doesn’t realize how long the silence has lingered between them until Jake speaks.

All the while, she continues looking softly at him, occasionally shying away her eyes.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me…” Emma breaks the silence.

Marc shakes his head slowly, somehow finding himself more worried about her than he is about himself at this point.

“What’s your name?” He asks, tempering his voice.

She swallows, tucking some hair behind her ear. “E-Emma…” She rolls her lips in, causing dimples to dip lightly into her cheeks as her eyes glance away shyly again.

Jake watches stunned from the reflection beside Steven.

He doesn’t know where it comes from, but he only softens more. “I’m Marc…” he introduces himself.

Emma eyes rise to his again, nodding slowly.

Her mind is already moving on, asking quietly, “do you know how long we’ll be here?”

Marc mistakes her meaning, just assuming it must be her first time on a psychiatric hold.

“72 hours—they have to—”

Emma’s already talking over him, more to herself but audible enough for the three of them to hear. “Three days? Like Easter?” She wonders aloud.

Marc’s eyebrows pull together, his mouth hanging open a little. “huh?”

“Easter—” Emma repeats. “Jesus came back to life after three days…”

‘Oh I—Marc I don’t think she knows what’s happening at all…’ Steven tells him.

Marc blinks slowly, but continues to soften, “do you know where you are right now, Emma?”

She shakes her head quickly and her shoulders pulling up to her ears, “I think it’s—well it’s kinda like limbo, right?” She pauses, furrowing her own brow. “We’re waiting to be judged…” She does her best to explain.

An ache goes through his chest, somehow his situation seems to pale in comparison with hers.

“No, Emma—” He starts, but is abruptly cut off when the floor staff comes to collect her first.

Fear seems to come over her face and it’s all he can do to stay in his chair, knowing that causing a scene would end badly for one or both of them.

“I’ll see you tomorrow—okay?” Is all he can get out.

“Tomorrow?” Emma questions in a daze.

“Come on, Emma—let’s get you settled…” The woman ushers her out of the door. “Someone will be back for you in a minute, Marc.”

This does nothing to ‘settle’ Marc at all, in fact, even after they get him situated in a room he still can’t stop worrying.

And so there he lies, in the dark on his side in a twin sized bed that feels a little too small, wrapped in thin hospital blankets, unable to get his mind off of the beautiful girl somewhere in a room along the same hallway.

The same beautiful girl who likewise lies in the dark, wondering over an angel named Marc and what will come of her.

Of one thing was certain for both of them, sleep wouldn’t come so easily tonight.

[thexsanctuaryx]

ʚ♡ɞ I'll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } a different kind of morning after. marc learns a little more about what emma is going through and emma becomes more certain than ever that marc might just be an honest to god angel. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector, emma harper x steven grant, and emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, slight bullying by another patient, angst { I guess? I don't know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I've done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. marc is a danger to himself here but it's only really alluded to in this part. mental hospitals. bullying by emma's roommate. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma's psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned. { author's note: } I recently finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction and it inspired me to work on an idea I've been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { word count: } 1,599 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

The next morning, Marc wakes up on too little sleep, vaguely aware of the nurse wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

He takes in a deep breath, forgetting where he is for a second before the memories come flooding back to him.

He releases the breath in a heavy sigh, inwardly hating himself for winding up here. Again. The nurse finishes taking his vitals and tells him they’ll be leaving for breakfast soon.

Somehow, eating food seems like the last thing he wants to do and he debates whether or not to stay back.

His eyes pop open with a start when he remembers her. His resolve to talk to her again is challenged by both his exhaustion and the self-loathing belief that he couldn’t possibly help her.

‘I want to see her again, Marc…’ Jake sounds off.

‘And you need to eat something—can’t go runnin’ around on nothing…’

“I don’t plan on doing any running, Steven…”

‘Marc…’ Jake presses.

Marc pushes out another sigh, swinging his legs out and leaning over the side of the bed, burying his face in his hands.

He walks over to the small plastic cubby on the wall that holds his clothes, pulling on an oversized sweatshirt and running a hand over his face.

He steps out into the hallway, looking in either direction, and notices he’s one of the first to be up. Typical. He releases a yawn and moves toward the day room to see if she’s in there.

The room is all but empty but he finds a seat, slumping back the same way he had the night before.

‘I hope she’s doing a bit better today…she looked so frightened last night…’

Marc doesn’t want to show any concern for her, a girl he doesn’t even know, but there’s an underlying worry in his gut.

“Me too, buddy, me too…” He mumbles, telling himself it’s only for Steven’s sake.

More patients filter into the room and still she’s nowhere to be seen.

Half an hour later they’re calling everyone to line up if they’re going to breakfast.

He pushes from the chair and makes his way to the line.

She catches his eye, coming out of the room furthest to the end of the hallway on the right, just before the locked entrance to the wing. He notes that she’s still wearing a standard issue hospital gown instead of real clothing.

She’s talking to one of the floor staff, looking confused the same way she did last night, before they usher her to the end of the line.

Marc abandons his place near the middle to join her.

“Hey…” He gently greets her. “How’d you sleep?” He asks, hoping she’s more lucid today.

“Sleep?” She repeats, her mind working over his question.

Another voice chimes in over her, “she slept in the shower after she put on my clothes…” Another girl says grumpily, before she really looks at Marc.

When she takes him in, she clears her throat, straightening up a little bit and smoothing out her clothes. “You’re new…” She says, brightening a little.

Marc pays less than an ounce of attention to her after she explains what happened with Emma.

“Are you okay?” He asks her softly and frowning, wanting to reach out to give her some kind of physical comfort but knowing he shouldn’t.

Emma’s eyebrows pull together, shaking her head quickly just before their attention is pulled away to the staff leading them out of the wing and down through the building to the cafeteria.

As they go through the line, Emma takes hardly anything to eat which only settles more worry in Marc’s stomach.

She goes to sit alone, setting her tray down and pulling her hands into her lap, fiddling anxiously with her fingers.

Marc makes his way over, eyeing all of the other tables of people who’d grouped up.

Her roommate can be seeing staring at her from one such group, clearly gossiping about ‘the new girl’ to avid listeners.

“Can I sit with you?” He asks, keeping his voice as light as he can.

Emma nods quickly, scowling at her lap.

“Thanks,” He replies, trying to get her to talk as he slides into the chair next to her that intentionally blocks her from her roommate’s view.

“You should try to eat something, it’ll make you feel better…” He suggests.

Emma shakes her head, avoiding his eyes.

Marc nods, scrunching up the side of his face, “yeah…I’m not really hungry either…”

The other two in his mind watch quietly with bated breath.

“Y’know, I wanted to say last night…you’re not dead, you’re in the hospital, this isn’t—”

Emma looks up at him wide-eyed, so sure once again that it’s a test. She can’t even form coherent words.

Marc pauses, able to tell that no matter what he says, she’s just not capable of understanding right now.

“Are you scared of me?” He asks gently.

Emma is quick to shake her head.

She wants to tell him that she’s sure he’s an angel, sent to guide her through this process.

After all, no one had been nearly as kind to her since she’d gotten here. And he had been there as soon as she’d landed here, wherever here was.

Her response provokes Marc to worry that if Steven or Jake were to come forward she might become scared.

He tries to find a way to tell her without perpetuating whatever confusion is going on in her brain right now.

‘Careful, Marc…’ Jake reminds him.

Emma seems to be lost in her own thoughts as Marc watches her. He can almost see her battling people within her own mind.

“Are you hearing people in your head?” He asks, keeping his tone in check.

Emma nods quickly, casting her eyes to her lap again.

“I know what that’s like…” Marc nods.

Again, he wants so badly to explain to her about Steven and Jake but he knows how tricky it would be to do so without scaring her in her present state.

“Sometimes—…” He starts.

He presses his lips together with another scowl.

“Sometimes, I might not be…me…sometimes you might see Steven…or Jake…they’re friends of mine and we…we sorta—share— a body…”

Emma’s eyes fly to his, widening again, looking more than a little nervous, her voice tremoring, “l-like possession?”

‘Well done, Marc, scare the poor girl…’ Steven rolls his eyes.

Marc keeps his tone light, with a quiet, tense laugh. “More like roommates…in my brain…”

“A-are you sure they’re not…demons?”

“I’m sure…” He nods, taking no offense to the question as he starts to piece together what her brain is going through at present.

“Is that what you think you’re hearing right now?” He asks.

Emma nods quickly and then shakes her head, “That is what I’m hearing…and—I think some of the people here might be—ya know—” She pauses, giving him a look, “too…”

Marc glances around, nodding again with a pinch of his eyebrows. “I can see why you’d say that. But they’re not…they’re just sick…”

Emma stares at her untouched meal tray, swallowing, unconvinced.

“I promise if you see Steven or Jake, you don’t have to be afraid of them, in fact…they help me when I’m  scared…”

“Th-they do?” She stammers.

Marc gives her a look of certainty, nodding slowly with a warm hum of an, “Mhmm…”

“So they’re more like, angels then?” She asks hopefully.

Marc can’t help a soft but good natured laugh, “Yeah, kinda I guess…”

His laughter puts her more at ease. She nods in seeming understanding.

Marc eyes her tray, knowing it can’t possibly be good for her condition to not eat.

“I’ll eat three bites if you do?” He offers, strategically inserting a number of significance to the kind of spirituality that her brain seems fixated on.

Emma summons a deep breath and lets it out in a huff of a sigh through her nose, scowling at her plate.

But her brain deduces that three is a good number, like God. So she agrees.

Marc can just see the gears turning in her brain, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping using the number three specifically wouldn’t make her more inclined.

She reaches for her fork, stabbing at her eggs haphazardly. She gives him a questioning look when she raises the first bite to her mouth, waiting for the go ahead.

Marc nods and offers a quiet smile, likewise reaching to take a bite of his own.

Emma watches him carefully, waiting for him to do it with her.

As they take the bite together, in some indescribable way, it makes her trust him.

She takes the second bite more easily, doing so without him but still keeping an eye on him to make sure he’ll eat too.

She’s not sure if angels eat human food, but her logic is that if it’s good for her to eat, it must also be good for him. And despite everything, she wants so badly to help him too.

Marc takes a sip of orange juice and then repeats the bite from before.

This affirms to her that he keeps his promises and she takes the final bite.

‘Nicely done, Marc—think she’s starting to like you…’ Steven tells him more genuinely this time, the grin in his voice evident.

Marc likewise can’t keep another light smile from his lips as he finishes his own third bite.

It doesn’t even occur to him, that in this moment, he’s all but completely forgotten the real reason he’s here.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } emma's condition doesn't seem to be getting any better, in fact, it seems to be getting worse. marc has his reservations about the care she's receiving and makes his objections known when told by staff that it's "none of his business." { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector && a sprinkle of emma harper x steven grant { content: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, angst { I guess? I don’t know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes, cliffhanger? { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I’ve done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. mental hospitals. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma’s psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned { author’s note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I’ve been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. small p.s. to apologize for how long this update took!! { word count: } 1,096 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

The next day seems to go by in a whir, Steven takes over and it seems smooth sailing until Emma disappears into her room and doesn’t come back out.

“She said she just needed to go the bathroom, mate—I’m sure she’s fine." Steven reassures Marc, even as his feet carry him down the hallway.

‘I can’t trust that—walk faster—’

“I’m moving, I’m moving—”

He pauses just outside her door, no sign of anyone in her bed.

His brow creases as he knocks on the door, “Emma? You in there, love?”

As he listens closer, the sound of hyperventilating can be heard from the bathroom just inside the doorway. Hyperventilating followed by a desperate mumble to leave her alone which is likewise followed by a sob.

He’d ask if it were her again but he knows her roommate to be down the hallway in the day room.

‘I told you something was wrong…’ Marc says in the headspace, his voice riddle with panic of his own.

“I can’t go in their room, Marc—it’s off limits innit?” Steven grumbles with light distress of his own.

‘Go get Moses—he’s on shift and she likes him!’

“Right.” Steven agrees, before calling to Emma. “I’ll be right back, love—just hang on.”

He disappears just long enough to retrieve the floor staff and come back with him.

“I don’t know what happened—but I could hear ‘er crying in there—please—”

“Alright, Steven—but you shouldn’t be here—privacy and all.”

Their body bristles as Marc forces his way forward in an instant. “I’m not going anywhere, Moses—I won’t go inside, but I need to make sure—"

Moses sighs and holds out a hand to quiet Marc before entering the room.

“Emma? You alright in there?”

“N-no—” Emma sobs.

“I’m gonna come in, okay?”

“K-kay.”

He pulls back the curtain that closes the bathroom in lieu of an actual door and finds her crumpled up on the floor, hugging her legs to herself.

“Hey there, what’s going on?” He gently asks her.

“I-I don’t know—it’s just so loud—the demons—and—I’m scared…”

“Okay, why don’t we see if we can’t go get you something for the anxiety?”

In the hallway, Marc listens, gritting his teeth about how – as well-meaning as Moses is and with better bedside manner than most of the staff – he can downplay what Emma seems to be experiencing as just a case of “anxiety.”

‘Having the worst bloody panic attack of all time—mid psychosis and he calls it anxiety?’ Steven seethes.

“Ridiculous.” Marc agrees all but snarling the word.

It’s just then that Moses walks Emma out of her bathroom, still visibly crying. He casts Marc a look, “this isn’t your business, Marc—head on back to your room now.”

Marc’s mouth falls open with a very pointed glare, but needs to say nothing as Emma speaks up.

“P-please don’t make him go away—he makes me feel s-safe…”

Moses sighs and ignores Marc as he walks down the hallway and up to the counter with Emma. He explains to the nurse that she’s having a panic attack. The nurse who is working says she’ll check to see what Emma has on file for the anxiety.

It takes longer than it should, in Marc’s estimation, before she comes back with a little white pill for Emma.

Emma reluctantly swallows the pill, and Moses moves on to his duties.

Marc watches her with a pained expression, hating just how powerless he feels in this precise moment.

Emma chokes back another sob as she turns to him, her shoulders jumping with the suppressed emotion.

“Why don’t we go sit somewhere quiet?” He offers, gesturing back toward the hallway away from the activity of the day room.

Emma nods quickly, wishing more than anything for a hug right now but knowing it could get them both into trouble.

“God, I can’t wait ‘til we can get you out of this place…” He mutters in frustration, thinking about how tomorrow might be that day. That is, if they’re lucky.

That night—he can’t sleep, worrying about how she’s doing down the hall.

She’d been so sick before bedtime. Her body fighting the likely too strong medication in her system.

He lies facing the doorway, head propped up with his hands beneath it.

Panic strikes through his chest as he hears her roommate go off about something. He can’t hear Emma’s side of things but when one of the staff goes rushing down the hallway, he knows it can’t be good.

There’s murmuring of trying to put out whatever fire of an argument had erupted, and he distinctly hears the staff member ask if Emma wants to go sleep in the “quiet room.”

Translation: the isolation room.

It makes him sick to feel like she’s somehow being punished when it’s clear that her roommate is the volatile one.

Still, moments later, he watches as Emma is escorted down the hallway to said “quiet room.”

He knows it’ll be another sleepless night as he’s powerless to do anything to help her once more.

Meanwhile, Emma is walked through the office area into a small white room with a cot in the center. No pillow. No blankets. Just a cold, hard “bed.”

She keeps trying to explain to the nurse that she feels like she has a fever, but the woman is dismissive. All she does is put a hand to Emma’s forehead and tells her she feels fine.

Emma does her best to insist that something is wrong. That she feels like her body is overdosing after finally eating a big meal tonight—that it feels like all the medication is catching up in her system and overpowering her.

But again, her concerns are quickly dismissed as an impossibility.

And just like that, she’s left alone in the room.

She tries to calm herself, curling up and clutching a fist to her chest. Her breath comes out uneven and shallow as her body seems to burn.

She says a couple short prayers, fully believing that this is it. She’s going to be judged by God himself. God, who will probably think that she killed herself on purpose—who will probably send her to hell.

It doesn’t help that in the upper corner of the room behind her head, she can see what looks like a small, dark black cloud hovering in her peripheral.

She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to will herself to sleep. Believing she’s done all she can.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } emma finds out why the boys are in the hospital, marc makes a promise he's not soon to forget. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector, emma harper x jake lockley, && emma harper x steven grant { contents: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, angst { I guess? I don’t know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I’ve done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. mental hospitals. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma’s psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned { author’s note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I’ve been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { word count: } 1,291 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

That night, Emma is hesitant to take the meds again and actually refuses to take them when offered.

She frowns and goes to sit in a chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

Marc – who’d been down the hallway in his room, enters the day room and sees Emma sulking. He scowls and makes his way over, crouching in front of her.

“Hey…did you take your meds?” He asks gently.

Emma immediately shakes her head, “no…”

“You refused them?” His brows dig deeper together.

“Yes.”

“But ba—” he clears her throat. “Emma if you turn them away—”

“Fine, I’ll go say I’ll take them…” She sighs.

“Hey, hey—listen, if you turn them away when they offer them, they count you as not having taken them, even if you go back and take them anyway…” He explains, uncharacteristically patiently to her.

Emma sucks in a shaky breath, releasing it just as unsteadily. “So, I have to take them right then or else—”

Marc nods slowly, reaching to gently rub her hand.

“What if he keeps me here forever?” she asks, and immediately Marc knows she means the doctor.

“He won’t—but I need you to promise me that you’ll take them at least until you get out of here—”

“But they make me feel so sick…” She says weakly, her voice all but breaking.

“I know…I know…” He consoles her. “Maybe once you get out—we can help you get on better ones—but we’ve gotta get you there first…okay?”

“Okay…” Emma agrees.

She clearly debates whether or not she should go to take them, if it doesn’t count. But as she looks in Marc’s eyes she sees something that makes the decision for her – not worry, not hope – but something between.

She stands and goes up to the nurse, clearing her throat softly. “Excuse me?” she pauses, glancing back at Marc before continuing. “I’d like to take my meds now…”

Marc breathes a sigh of relief, nodding slowly when she looks at him. He grips the back of his neck as he stands upright and waits for her to come back.

“I’ve got this really bad feeling guys—” He mumbles, not sure if either Jake or Steven are even listening.

‘I know…’ Jake replies somberly.

“What if it’s her mom that picks her up? What if she’s just as bad as—”

‘Then we’ll take care of it…’ Jake replies before he can finish, ever the strategist.

“But—”

‘You’re not alone in this, Marc—we’ll find a way.’ Jake says with a certain finality.

Marc only scowls more deeply as he watches Emma take her meds, grimacing herself, as she swallows them.

“I can’t remember the last time I cared this much about anything…” He confesses.

‘Or anyone, mate?’ Steven speaks up gently.

“Yeah…” Marc agrees, his tone deep and laced with frustration.

One of the staff comes in to turn a movie on in the day room just as Emma returns with a sour taste in her mouth and an expression on her face to match.

She immediately moves to drag another chair next to the one she’d previously been sitting in. She positions it and reaches for Marc, guiding him to sit in it.

She turns hers to face his slightly and gives him an expectant look.

He can just tell she’s got something on her mind from the way her face contorts thoughtfully. He has to restrain the smile at his lips as she frowns intently at him.

“You never told me why you’re here…” She finally blurts out quietly.

Marc’s features take a turn, his eyes falling away from hers, wringing his hands.

“I um—”

He pauses.

“I wasn’t feeling…safe…with myself…”

Emma’s face falls, pouting as her eyebrows rise in the center. She looks as though she might cry at the slightest provocation.

And why shouldn’t she, she thinks to herself.

Her angel is hurting…

Still, with a shaky voice she clarifies, “you wanted to hurt yourself?”

Marc can’t conceal the shame that works its way over his face. She’s worried about him. Painfully so.

“Y-yeah…” He replies with defeat. “It was stupid…”

Emma rushes toward him to pull him into her arms.

A round of teasing “ou’s” goes through everyone in the room.

Emma ignores the taunting around them and only squeezes Marc tighter.

He cringes at the reaction from the other patients but can’t bring himself to deny her anything at this point. He settles against her, returning the embrace albeit more gently.

“Thank you…” He murmurs into her ear, cupping the back of her head against him.

“God, you two are gonna make me sick.” Emma’s roommate scoffs as she scoots closer to the television.

Emma retreats from Marc only to turn on her with a sharp, “shut. up.”

Her roommate turns back, narrowing her eyes, “make me.”

Emma shifts to stand but Marc immediately reaches to hold her back. “Em, come on, she’s not worth it…”

“Listen to your boyfriend, crybaby…” she sneers.

Emma’s mouth falls open, glaring and lurching forward again.

“What a pair of losers…” Her roommate snorts before turning back to the television.

Marc has a few things he’d like to say to her as well but his main objective is to keep Emma calm, to keep her safe.

“Hey…hey…look at me, Emma—” He can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s somewhere else right now. “Come back to me…”

Emma’s eyes shift back to him, immediately softening as his hand cradles her cheek.

She swallows, her gaze dropping.

“What were we talking about?” she asks almost inaudibly.

Marc sighs, his thumb moving over her cheek, wishing they didn’t have to continue that conversation.

“It wasn’t important…are you okay?”

Emma seems to get lost in thought for a moment, lost in the voices is more like it.

“Why you’re here,” she remembers. “That’s important to me…”

Marc drops his head, nodding and then tilting it to the side. “Right—I’m sorry.”

She dips her head to search out his eyes.

“And it wasn’t—itwasn’t—” she shakes her head, “s-stupid…”

Her eyes brim with tears as she chokes back a sob, avoiding his now.

Marc doesn’t let her gaze stray, “Thank you…”

Emma shakes her head furiously, her voice weak, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She pauses, sucking in a breath. “Promise me you w-won’t do it—you won’t hurt yourself—that you won’t t-take your own life…”

Her words stun him. He knows that she can’t understand right now, but she’s just singlehandedly given him one of the most powerful kinds of safety plan.

“P-please…” She begs.

Marc isn’t sure he’ll be able to keep his word but as she stares brokenly at him, pleading with him he can’t help but agree.

He nods quickly, staring directly back into her eyes almost unnervingly.

“I promise…”

Emma hurriedly nods with him, trying to smile with relief. “Th-thank you…”

‘I’m holding you to that, mate.’ Steven says sternly.

‘Seconded.’ Jake agrees.

‘She really is an angel, this one.’ Steven adds.

Marc, again, can’t seem to help himself as he reaches to brush her tears away with his thumbs.

“Thank you…”

Emma gives a sob of a laugh, shaking her head and avoiding his eyes again.

A soft smile of his own creeps to his lips as he releases her face in favor of taking one of her hands with his, squeezing it gently as he turns to face the television.

He hardly watches the movie, however, his mind far too distracted by the girl beside him and the promise he’s just made to her—potentially the most important one he’s made thus far in his life.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } after marc gets emma home, the boys' best friend who is well versed in such things, comes over to formulate a plan to work the system to get emma the help she needs, marc then has to explain what that plan is to emma { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector, emma harper x steven grant && emma harper x jake lockley { content: } mathias reyes enters the chat, plans are made, scheming occurs, marc is a little more invested than anticipated, very teasing, much banter { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I’ve done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. homelessness. abuse/abusive parents. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma’s psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned { author’s note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I’d been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { edit! } originally, these were going to be two separate chapters but for the sake of NOT having a KATRILLION chapters, I'm going to begin making chapters longer, so the first half of this was originally chapter 13 and the second half was going to be chapter 14, but I'm condensing, so this is a reposting with the addition. it just made more sense where the chapter is cut, you'll be able to tell where the addition is by the divider. sorry for the confusion guys! { word count: } 2,174 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

“You said ten minutes—”

“And it was only fifteen,” Mat chides, as he pushes Marc out of the way so he can enter.

He peaks his head around to see into the living room, “that’s her?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s her’? Why are you saying it like that?”

Mat gives him another light shove, “why do you sound so nervous?”

Marc ignores the accusation and shrugs him off, “come on—I want you to meet her properly—she needs to know she can trust you too…”

Emma looks up as they make their way into the living room, casting a warm look in Mat's direction. She knows the instant that their eyes connect that she can trust him, and that somehow he’s going to help her.

“Emma, this is Mat—he’s our best friend, we wanted you to meet him so if you ever need anything and we’re not around—you can trust him too, okay?”

Emma uncurls herself from the comforter she’s wrapped in and stands, walking over to where they stand.

“Hi there, Emma,” he starts to reach a hand out to shake hers.

But before he can even raise it all the way, she engulfs him in a tight hug.

He gives an anxious laugh, but returns the hug.

“Hi, Mati…” She says in a small voice, before releasing him and going back to the couch as if nothing happened.

“You told her to call me, Mati?” He mumbles out the side of his mouth.

Marc just stands there with his mouth hanging slightly open, looking at a loss.

“No—” he clears his throat, gripping the back of his neck, “no, she just—has a way of knowing things.”

He turns to where Emma stands, bundling herself back up in the comforter – getting frustrated when she can’t get it quite right around herself.

He watches, somewhat lost in thought, as she huffs, finally giving up and throwing herself back onto the couch.

Mat raises a hand, waving it in front of Marc’s face – Marc, who then blinks rapidly, clearing his throat again.

“We’re gonna be in the kitchen talking, okay?” He quietly calls to Emma, who in turn directs her eyes back to him quickly, and nods in understanding.

Mat narrows his eyes on the exchange, but simply goes to sit at the dining table.

Marc lingers a moment longer before finally following.

When he sits in front of Mat, he’s given a look.

“What?” Marc snaps grumpily.

Mat puts his hands up, “Nothing…”

“It’s not nothing—I know that look.”

Mat gives a shrug of his mouth, “I just didn’t realize, in addition to taking her in, you also had a crush on her…”

“I don’t have a crush.” Marc replies grumpily.

“Uh huh—is that why you took her in?” Mat squints.

“Oh my god…” Marc grumbles.

“Do the other two have a crush on her too?”

“Mat—”

“I’m just saying…”

“Can we focus here?” Marc asks in exasperation.

“Right…where did you want to start?”

“She’s got nothing—her mom threw her out on the street fresh from the hospital—no phone, no clothes, nothing—we’re almost certain she doesn’t even have insurance anymore—”

“And she needs healthcare because she’s in psychosis…” Mat finishes for him, releasing a heavy sigh. “I dunno, man—this one is hard…”

“I know—but we’ve gotta do something…”

They both sit in silence for a long moment, both of them looking toward the living room where she sits, deeply in synchronous thought.

Marc exhales deeply, “how can we get her the care she needs—”

“And support her most effectively…” Mat finishes for him.

They fall into silence again for a few more minutes. The frown only deepens on Marc’s face, seemingly etched there for the foreseeable future.

Mat only watches him intently and then leans back to look at Emma on the couch. An idea strikes him and he hums, tapping the table thoughtfully with his fingertips.

Marc tears his eyes from Emma, his gaze snapping back to Mat. “What is it? What are you thinking?”

“You—” Mat huffs a sigh, scratching at his chin.

“Spit it out already, Mati…”

Mat’s lips shrug once again in appraisal as he turns the idea over in his head one more time.

“You could always—…marry her…” His eyes flash to Marc who is narrowing his back at him.

“Wh—”

“Think about it—she’d have your insurance, you could be her emergency contact, you could put her on your phone bill—I mean—as far as working the system goes—and you know I know how to work the system…it makes the most sense if you’re serious about helping her—and given her situation…”

Marc drops his head, sighing heavily again as he squeezes his eyes shut. He raises a hand to rub at them.

“Are you sure she doesn’t know anyone else who could help?”

“We don’t know, her phone only lasted long enough to know she doesn’t have service before the battery died—she didn’t exactly plan to get dropped off and abandoned at an emergency room.”

“Well that’s an easy fix—we just charge the phone and go through her contacts. She’s gotta have some friends, right?”

“It’s an old phone—flip phone old, I don’t even know where we’d find a charger that would work without ordering it online…”

He pauses before continuing, “And it still doesn’t solve the insurance issue. She needs more than somewhere to couch surf.”

Mat gives him an expectant look.

“Well then…”

He makes a rolling along gesture with his index finger.

The silence falls between them again, Mat allowing Marc time to let it sink in.

Marc runs a hand down his face and drops it a moment later, “Only until she gets better…”

“Well yeah,” Mat agrees as if it’s a given.

Marc heaves another exhale, his eyes falling on Emma again. “How am I supposed to explain this to her in a way that will make sense to her right now...”

“Fair point.” Mat agrees again. “Should I—”

“No, it should be me—but I’m gonna seriously need you to walk me through everything so we can—” Marc sighs again, wringing his neck once more.

“Ya know? I’ve known you since we were kids and I’ve never seen you this invested in someone, you’re telling me you seriously met this girl five days ago?”

“Shut up…” Marc grumbles, “and it was four…”

“Oh I’m sorry—I didn’t realize we were counting the days—” Mat snorts good naturedly. “You sure you’re not in love with this girl?”

Marc rolls his eyes, “it’s only been four days, Mati…”

“And I’ve seen people fall in one…” Mat counters.

“No one is falling—or crushing—or in love, or any other way you want to say it.” Marc scowls. “Now walk me through what we’re gonna need to do to help her.” He kicks him under the table.

“Well first—we’re gonna need to get Mrs. Spector to the courthouse.”

Marc kicks him under the table again, pouting at him, which receives a soft chuckle from Mat.

“You’re just making it too easy, man—what happened in that hospital?”

“Focus, Reyes, focus.”

“I’m surprised you can…” Mat jabs one more time. “Okay, alright—fine—”

After Mat had briefed Marc on what to do and given him the basics on how things would work, he’d taken off with a short, but sincere, “good luck.”

Marc had turned to walk back into the apartment, only to find Emma waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Hey…” he’d said almost breathlessly.

“The movie finished.” Emma explained, her tone apprehensive, worrying that she’s bothering him, or being a burden again somehow.

He’d nodded, frowning thoughtfully, his voice softer than it normally was. “That’s good—I mean—I need to talk to you about something.”

Emma nodded in reply, “why Mati was here?”

“Yeah—yeah, he—” Marc sighed quietly, “why don’t we go sit on the couch?”

She nodded again and reached a hand out for his to take.

In her mind, she was trying to reassure him, comfort him even, unaware of the implications of what he’d been about to tell her.

Still, Marc had taken it and led her back into the living room to sit down.

That had been a good five minutes ago.

She dips her head now, searching out his eyes with a soft scowl of her own to match the frown at his features.

“Marc? Did I do something wrong?” She asks, sensing the severity of this conversation.

He immediately shakes his head, locking eyes with her.

“No—no,” he sighs again, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as his tongue darts between his lips.

As he opens his eyes again, he can’t resist the urge to take her hand again – she instinctively takes it closing both of hers around it, giving him a hopeful look.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to explain this in a way that will make sense right now, but—” He exhales heavily and takes the plunge.

“In order to be able to get you the support you need—we have to get you some kind of insurance, and it’d take a long time to file a disability claim—y’know so that the government would take care of your bills—and you need that care now—so—”

His eyes dart down at her hands around his, his thumb grazing one of them.

Emma struggles to follow, only knowing it has to do with her getting better – something she still doesn’t comprehend due to her belief that she’s not even properly alive at this point.

Nevertheless, she tries to find his eyes again, “so Mati knew how to help?”

Marc swallows, nodding intently with a frown still deeply etched into his features.

“The quickest way to get you what you need—is—we have to—” He stumbles, barely able to form the words.

Emma gives his hand a gentle squeeze, trying to somehow will courage to him despite how terrified she is of, well, everything at this point. She wants him to feel the same courage she feels when she’s with him.

“We have to get married—legally, at least—just temporarily—just until you get better, and then we’ll have it annulled.” His words jumble together in a rush.

Emma is struck with a quiet shock, her eyes widening, her mouth falling open slightly.

“O-oh—”

“It’s just until we can get you everything you need, until you get better—so you can use our insurance and—” He pauses again, watching her in worry. “Nothing would change between us—I mean—we wouldn’t do anything y’know—romantic…it’s just on paper.”

Emma tries to wrap her mind around everything he’s saying and nods again quickly, this time her eyes falling.

“I know it’s confusing right now—but it—it’s probably the only way we can get you better…”

Emma nods again slowly, rolling her lips in, wanting to show him how brave she is. “So…married but not really…married?” she tries to understand.

“Y-yeah…” Marc exhales, his voice laced with guilt. As he waits for her next reply, he squeezes his eyes shut again and grimaces as if waiting to take a physical blow.

Her face is riddled with a similar worry, but on his behalf instead of hers.

She squeezes his hand again, calling out softly, “Marc?”

He shakes his head slowly, his eyes remaining shut, every instinct to slam one of his hands into his head, “I know—I know—this sounds like a terrible idea—I’m so sorry—”

When he refuses to open his eyes, she releases his hand in favor of taking his face, only causing him to flinch.

“Marc, it’s okay…” She tries to console him, grazing her fingers over his cheeks, trying anything to comfort him.

He finally opens his eyes, still wincing. He feels so stupid. It shouldn’t be her that’s comforting him. He can feel the nerves in his stomach churning at the same time that it sinks.

“It’s not—but I don’t know how else to get you what you need, how to help you…” He confesses sullenly.

“It is,” She insists, adding slowly and intently, somehow meaning every word from the depth of her very heart and soul even in her present state, “I trust you…”

Marc’s eyebrows pull together, rising slowly in the center as he brings his hands to rest over hers at his face, gently removing them.

Her words echo in his head, looking her directly in the eyes.

“We are gonna get you better—I promise."

She can’t quite comprehend what getting better means at this point, but she does fully comprehend and mean what she said before. She does trust him. So somehow, she knows that it will be okay. He is, after all, one of her guardian angels, right?

“Okay…” She agrees quietly, offering him a delicate, shy smile.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } one very important - almost deleted - voicemail, leads marc to reunite with emma much sooner than any of the system anticipated. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector, emma harper x steven grant && emma harper x jake lockley { content: } homeless shelter, "angel" rescues, angst { I guess? I don’t know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfortesque { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I’ve done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. homelessness. abuse/abusive parents. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma’s psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned { author’s note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I’d been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { special dedication: } I don't usually do this but speaking of fen @my-secret-shame, originally I wasn't going to release this one until I came back from hiatus -- but this one is for you lovebug. my heart couldn't bear leaving you on that cliffhanger when I saw your comment today. there's also a special little easter egg in here JUST for you. you'll know it when you see it. ((; - leaving this here for you cause it's Important -blows kisses- { word count: } 1,497 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

“H-hi Marc, it’s Emma – I just wanted to let you know that they let me out, I—I don’t have a phone, Tom told me my service is off? He’s the man at the shelter? I guess my mom said I couldn’t come home…I was hoping you could maybe come see me, if you can…I—I know you probably can’t—anyway, I don’t know the telephone number here, but I guess I’ll try call you again later—they told me this place is called Hope’s Holy Heart, in case you wanted to visit—okay, bye…”

He hadn’t answered the phone – not recognizing the number.

And he almost didn’t even check the voicemail either, but something told him to – just in case.

As he listens to it play back, panic swells in his chest.

“Shit!” He hisses, listening to it again, this time furiously scribbling down any information she gives and then saving the voicemail – again, just in case.

“I knew—I fucking knew…” He mutters in fury as he searches for the shelter’s address and then puts it into his GPS.

He’s so angry he practically shakes, the anxiety over something happening to her only exacerbating that particular symptom.

He slips on his jacket and grabs his keys, clutching them so tightly they dig into his palm. Not giving it a second thought, even as Jake wakes up in his mind.

‘What is it, Marc—what happened?’

Marc doesn’t hold back any of the rage he’s feeling as he rushes down to their car almost mowing down one of their neighbors in his path in the process.

“She’s at a fucking homeless shelter—they released her and her fucking mother wouldn’t let her come home—she doesn’t even have a working phone—”

Jake sighs heavily in his mind, ‘okay—alright just calm down—’

“Calm down?!”

Steven perks up, chiming in, ‘seeing you like this isn’t going to help her, mate—’

‘Maybe you should let me drive,’ Jake suggests.

“Not a chance—she called me.”

‘Alright—alright, just try to slow it down a bit, Marc—she’s gonna need you to have your head on straight.’ Steven tries to sound as soothing as possible.

Forty-five minutes later he finds himself in a parking lot surrounded by a pretty rundown neighborhood. Again, the idea of her being turned out on her own, given her present state in a place like this causes his adrenaline to surge.

He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a couple deep breaths, and a quick heel of his hand to the side of his head, and gets out of the car.

There is a small group of people outside the main entrance smoking cigarettes as he makes his way in.

A small woman with round glasses greets him and he quickly explains he’s here to see someone who came today from a nearby hospital.

“She said a man named Tom was helping her.”

He’s told that she’ll go find him, “wait here.”

Minutes later, a tall thin man comes to meet him.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah—a friend called and told me she was staying here, came from a mental hospital—Emma Harper?” Marc cuts straight to the point, giving detail so that the man standing before him knows he actually knows her.

Tom lightly tests him, having come to understand Emma’s situation a little better, “what did you say your name was?”

“Marc.”

“Right, she’s told me all about you, I’ll go get her.” Tom almost breathes a sigh of relief, hoping that this person might be willing to let her stay with him.

Not long after, Tom leads Emma back out to the front – Emma, who immediately all but runs and jumps into Marc’s arms. Now that she’s allowed to, she thinks to herself.

This, causes Marc to breathe a sigh of relief as he wraps her in his arms, cradling her head against him.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs into her shoulder.

Emma withdraws enough to face him and shrugs her shoulders up to her ears slowly.

“They told me—” She pauses, forgetting what she was going to say or where her train of thought was even going.

Tom clears his throat, “we only have a spot for her for the night—is there anyone you know that she could stay with temp—"

“She can stay with me…” Marc speaks over him, not letting him finish.

The taller man does offer a relieved smile, even though neither Emma nor Marc are looking at him – instead, caught staring at each other.

In her mind, she reads it as a miracle – her angel rescuing her again – and smiles at him softly.

Marc only reaches to cradle her jaw, gently asking, “where are your things?”

“My things?” She repeats in confusion.

Tom interjects again, “truth be told, she didn’t arrive with much more than what she’s wearing, I know she’s got a phone and what looked to be like a journal – aside from paperwork.”

Marc can feel the anger only simmer in him stronger, removing his jacket and making to set it protectively over her shoulders.

His eyes stay softly on Emma, even with the crease between his brows, “where is it?”

“In a plastic bag – I can go get it if Emma doesn’t mind, I kept it in my office – things have a habit of going missing…”

Marc nods, “why don’t you go with him? I’ll wait right here.”

Emma nods with him before following Tom back into the back.

Marc sighs heavily, mumbling quietly to the others, “she’s got nothing guys…”

‘We should at least get her some pajamas, so she doesn’t have to sleep in street clothes.’ Steven suggests, voice riddled with concern.

‘Si—and we need to get that phone activated.’ Jake adds.

“We’re gonna need to call in some reinforcements…” Marc mutters.

At the same time all three of them agree, “Mati.”

It’s around that time that Emma reappears with the same plastic bag that’s standard mental hospital issue.

Tom reaches out to shake Marc’s hand, “thank you for this—I’d hate to see her end up— well— I’m glad it worked out…”

Marc shakes his hand, “thanks for getting her to—me…”

He then takes Emma’s hand and walks her out to their car.

“I was thinking we could stop and get you some pajamas—”

“Steven…” Emma corrects, holding his hand snugly, noting to herself how nice it feels around hers. But then – you probably weren’t supposed to feel that way about your guardian angels.

Marc can’t help the soft grin, “Steven.”

They stop at a few stores on the way home to get her the basics – toiletries, pajamas, a sweatshirt, a couple staple clothing items.

The process affords him a little comfort that he’s helping in a tangible sort of way.

Once they make it back, Marc suggests she take a shower to help her feel better.

She decides it’s a good idea, saying something about cleaning off the evil energies – and to a point, Marc can’t help but agree.

He hangs out near the door to the bathroom in case something happens but far enough that she can’t hear the phone call he makes to their best friend.

“You brought her home?!” Mat exclaims on the other end of the line.

“What did you want me to do Mati -- her mother is a monster—she kicked her out during psychosis after doing god knows what to her for years...”

Mat immediately sighs, “yeah, you're right, I would've done the same thing...”

“Thank you...so are you gonna help or not?” Marc presses impatiently.

“I’ll be over in ten…”

It’s about then that the water shuts off in the bathroom.

He has trouble tearing himself away, worried that she’ll need him, and he won’t be there, but forces himself into the kitchen.

‘If ‘er mother already turned the phone service off—you don’t s’pose we’d get lucky that she’s still got health care?’

Marc immediately drops his head, scrubbing a hand down in face with an exasperated whisper of a, “fuck!”

‘I don’t think you’re helping, hermano…’

‘I’m just thinking is all…trying to be prepared, aren’t I?’

Emma makes her way out of the bathroom then, in fresh pajamas, playing with her fingers as she steps into the kitchen.

“Is everything okay, Marc?” She asks, her voice small.

He pulls his head out of his hand, reassuring her with a quiet smile, “yeah��it will be.”

Emma nods with a frown of understanding, rolling her lips in.

“Why don’t I put a movie on and Steven can lecture me on how to make you a ‘proper’ cup of tea?” He teases, trying to ease her worries.

She nods again, but waits for him to take the lead – it being his home and all.

She swallows, suggesting hopefully, “Ever seen Anastasia?”

15 minutes later she’s settled on the couch with a comforter wrapped around her, mug in hand, and Mat finally arrives.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } with the boys now gone, emma feels more lost and alone than ever. she seemingly can't catch a break as things once again go from bad to worse in the blink of an eye. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector, emma harper x steven grant && emma harper x jake lockley { content: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, angst { I guess? I don’t know what else to call it. }, cliffhanger? { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I’ve done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. mental hospitals. homeless shelters. abuse/abusive parents. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma’s psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned { author’s note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I’d been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { word count: } 1,089 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

After Marc’s departure, Emma sits for what feels like an eternity against the hallway wall opposite the room that was theirs.

She stares at the now empty bed – even watches when the staff comes in to put a fresh sheet and pillowcase on it – unmoving from her spot.

When they’re called for lunch, she doesn’t line up with everyone else, telling them she’s staying back.

Eating sounds like the last thing she wants to do right now.

She still sits as they return, only forced out of her stupor when they come to collect her for her own court hearing.

She’s taken back behind the office area into a cupboard of a room where she sits opposite the judge, her case worker beside her.

The recount her time there via a large binder of files. All the times she’d turned the meds away, all of her episodes, the doctor’s notes, all of it.

She sits still in a daze, confused by the whole process, clutching her journal to herself like her life depends on it – the journal that holds the most precious thing in her possession at this point – the telephone number of her angels.

One moment sticks out to her the most – when the judge agrees to release her but informs her that, should she end up back here, she’d “be her hangman.”

It sends a chill through Emma and she simply nods before she’s excused.

She’s given her street clothes back so she can finally change out of the hospital gown she’s been living in for the last 4 days.

It feels odd to be in normal clothes, less like the lab experiment she’s felt like since she was admitted.

She’s got less than nothing to pack as she hadn’t been prepared to even go to the hospital when she was taken to the emergency room.

Her mother simply dropping her off and telling them that she was unwell and “needed to be dealt with.”

Her mother.

There was a thought she’d scarcely had since being here.

They’d told her that they’d be calling her to come pick her up; now that she dwells on it.

Emma vows that the first thing she’ll do is call Marc when she gets home, working painfully hard to remember that one thing in a mind so jumbled it’s hard to keep anything straight – no matter it’s importance.

It isn’t until her case worker approaches her again to explain that her mother refuses to let Emma come home, that the severity of her situation really sets in.

She still operates under the belief that this world isn’t real, therefore wondering if she’s not allowed to go home because there is no home to go back to from this realm.

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing more we can do, if someone won’t collect you, if you don’t have a home to return to – we’re going to have to send you to a shelter.” The case worker explains.

Emma scowls deeply, repeating the last word of a sentence she can’t even comprehend.

“Shelter?”

“That is, if they have room, I’m sorry, Emma…”

Emma nods slowly, even though she doesn’t at all understand what’s happening to her.

“There’s one not far from here, I’ll give them a call and see if someone can come pick you up.”

She nods again.

Half an hour later, she passes through the locked doors and stands at a counter as a woman passes back her other belongings that had been locked up.

Emma stares at her phone for a particularly long moment, wondering if it’s her literal lifeline back to earth.

Her head snaps up as the woman prompts her to sign for her things and informs her that her ride will be there shortly.

Things seem to be moving much more quickly outside of the wing.

The lobby feels even more unreal than the place she’s been housed in. It’s dark and shadowy, but the sun blindingly bright as it pours in through the glass door entrance.

Not long after, she finds herself listening to a man who works at the shelter explain that they’re completely full and can only provide her a bed for the night.

She wonders over what that means, still struggling to comprehend that she is now effectively homeless, with nothing to her name.

She’s reminded once again of Jesus, but Christmas this time.

How there was no room for him, either. She’s in good company, she supposes.

The man – Tom – asks her if there might be anywhere else she could stay and she shakes her head.

“No one you can call?”

“Call?” Emma repeats.

“I see you have a phone – could you—?”

Emma’s mind seems to snap at the remembrance.

She turns the phone on and hands it to him.

Tom sighs heavily, “no service it looks like—anyone in your contacts maybe?”

Emma shakes her head again until suddenly she remembers that morning.

She furiously fishes to the bottom of the plastic bag for her journal.

It doesn’t occur to her that they can do anything, only that they make her feel safe, and that she’d really, really like to feel safe right now.

Even hearing one of their voices would feel like a miracle.

“Could I use your phone please?” She asks, her head spinning.

Tom nods, hoping that she might’ve thought of someone who might help, “of course.”

She’s led to an office, and told that he’ll be just outside, “fingers crossed.”

She has no idea what that means, even as she starts punching in the numbers Marc gave her on the landline.

There’s no answer the first time, so she leaves a voicemail.

“H-hi Marc, it’s Emma – I just wanted to let you know that they let me out, I—I don’t have a phone, Tom told me my service is off? He’s the man at the shelter? I guess my mom said I couldn’t come home…I was hoping you could maybe come see me, if you can…I—I know you probably can’t—anyway, I don’t know the telephone number here, but I guess I’ll try call you again later—they told me this place is called Hope’s Holy Heart, in case you wanted to visit—okay, bye…”

She puts the receiver down and sighs as the voices in her head mock her for even trying.

She exits the room to find Tom speaking to someone else.

“Any luck?” He asks, hopefully.

Emma shakes her head, hugging her journal to herself.

Tom nods, “why don’t we get you settled.”

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } steven gets emma to take her meds -- but it backfires and they only make her more sick. after heading to her room, marc takes over. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x steven grant, emma harper x marc spector, && emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, angst { I guess? I don’t know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I’ve done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. mental hospitals. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma’s psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned { author’s note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I’ve been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { word count: } 1,155 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

The following day – Steven remains in control of the body.

After breakfast, they line them all up for morning meds which only leads to the next problem – Emma refusing to take the meds the doctor has prescribed.

As she stands three people from the front of the line she tells Steven she’s not going to take the “poison.”

“You’ve got t’ take them, love – or they’ll make you stay longer…”

“But they’re making me sick—my body is upset…” she tells him.

“If you refuse that bloody doctor is going to raise—”

‘Don’t Steven—she’ll take it literally, she already thinks he’s the devil…’ Marc stops him just in time.

“Right—” Steven mutters out the side of his mouth.

“We can’t getchu better unless we find the right meds—and we’ve gotta rule these out first, yeah?”

Emma huffs a sigh and nods, “okay…”

“Good girl.” Steven repeats, scooting her up just as it’s her turn.

She takes a long look at the cup they hand her. “This tastes like battery acid…” she informs the nurse before swallowing the liquid medicine.

Then she’s handed another cup with a few more pills.

She quickly swallows them too before tossing the empty cup in the trash.

Not long after she finds herself in the bathroom feeling like she’s gonna be sick but can’t.

She groans and throws her head back against the hard wall, her face contorting with pain as she hugs herself.

She sniffs back tears, not wanting any of them to see her this way.

The floor staff on duty is a sweet man named Moses who knocks on the wall outside of the bathroom. “Okay in there Emma?”

She pushes out a sob and sucks in a shaky breath.

“I feel sick…” she says weakly.

“Maybe a shower?”

The thought of hot water does sound soothing so she slowly climbs to her feet. “O-okay…” she says shakily.

He walks her down to the counter for her toiletries, passing the day room on the way.

In the meantime since going to her room, Marc has taken over again. He sees her pass with one of the staff and worries.

He notes that even the short time she’s been gone, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her, wondering if maybe she shouldn’t be taking the particular meds they have her on.

He's all but certain that whatever diagnosis the doctor has given is likely wrong as well.

When he eyes the toiletries being handed over he sighs, muttering to Jake himself this time as he makes his way to the hallway. “we’ll be lucky if this place doesn’t kill her…”

‘I know,’ Jake agrees, as she makes it back to her room.

“I’m going to stand watch…” He mumbles as he heads toward her room, stopping outside and leaning against the wall.

He's about to speak again when he hears her voice. Except she isn’t talking to the people in her head this time. She’s singing to herself.

When the water comes on he slides down the wall  sitting just outside the door, just listening.

He can all but feel Jake softening, or was it himself? He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t having that effect on him.

She sings a quiet song that sounds like a lullaby of a love song.

“If you’ll be my star, I’ll be your sky…you can hide underneath me and come out at night…” the song goes.

“When I turn jet black and you show off your light…I live to let you shine…I live to let you shine…”

It sounds so peaceful. And Marc’s eyes slip shut as he listens. The song takes a sad turn. Bittersweet at best.

“But you can skyrocket away, from me, and never come back if you—find another galaxy…far from here, with more room to fly—just leave me your stardust to remember you by…”

His hear aches in his chest at the idea of leaving her behind. He doesn’t want this to be all he’ll ever know of her, and he just knows Steven and Jake feel the same way.

There’s another verse about being the sea to someone’s boat, setting sail for the west, past the horizon til he can’t be seen anymore, about living to make him free…

Marc frowns as he realizes he’s somehow made the sad lullaby about himself, about them.

After the second verse, the first repeats itself.

He can’t see her but he imagines how the warm water must being calming. The same way listening to her sing is soothing him—and Jake, of course.

He thinks on how Steven is really missing out, how they’ll have to tell him about it later.

She spends another 5 minutes in the shower before she shuts the water off, all the while humming the melody.

It takes her another ten minutes to get dressed, a fresh hospital gown—well two that is—wrapped around her.

Now that Marc knows vaguely about her mother, he’s not surprised that she doesn’t have clothes or proper toiletries.

He sighs as she emerges from her bathroom, making to stand just before she peeks out of her doorway.

She seems to know he’s there waiting and doesn’t so much as jump.

“Hey…” he says warmly, giving her an equally soft look. “how are you feeling?”

Emma doesn’t seem bothered in the least that it’s no longer Steven who’s controlling the body.

“Hi Marc…I— my body is still upset…” she tells him quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

He gives her a soft, playful frown. “you knew it was me?”

Her head bobbing quickly, frowning back—albeit seriously. “I just know things sometimes…”

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have this feeling deep within himself that she just knows them apart well enough to know.

“Right—Jake told me…”

“Are they gonna make us eat again soon?” She asks, glancing down and wringing her hands.

“Think so—why?”

“I don’t think I can eat right now…”

Marc nods, knowing it’s the meds.

“Maybe we can just get you some juice.” He suggests.

He wants to reach for her again, finding the instinct to comfort her so innate.

Her eyes rise shyly to meet his, rolling her lips in, her dimples on prominent display.

“Y’know—” he stops himself, Steven was right before—this was hardly the place.

He clears his throat, changing his words. “you’re gonna be okay…” he finishes.

But somehow Emma just knows, hiding an equally shy smile. “I like your dimples too…” she tells him softly before moving past him as a look of shock comes over his face.

She can feel the tingles rush over her skin as he stares after her, stuck where he stands just outside her door.

‘Well damn…’ Jake says from the headspace.

But Marc just stands there speechless, watching her move down the hallway, lost in a trance.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } jake's meeting with the doctor doesn't goes as planned, while emma's confusion over what's happening continues. the boys likewise continue to worry about leaving her there by herself, and she finally gets to meet steven. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x jake lockley, emma harper x steven grant, && emma harper x marc spector { contents: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, angst { I guess? I don't know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes, steven's first appearance { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I've done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. mental hospitals. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma's psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned. { author's note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I've been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { word count: } 1,206 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

The meeting with the doctor doesn’t take long. Jake is quickly informed that he has their records and knows about the DID. Likewise, he tells him not to worry—that his stay won’t be long so long as he’s not a danger to himself upon leaving and follows up with outside support.

This is, of course, not what Jake was hoping to hear.

“I’m not the one who was a danger to myself—that was Marc…” He glowers at the doctor as he gets up to leave.

He's so angry when he gets back to the hallway that he almost forgets to check on Emma, rather, distracted by the damn doctor who is utterly useless.

His eyes snap to the line getting ready to go to dinner and sighing he goes to join the queue that Emma is just coming to the back of.

She brightens as she sees Jake returning, leaving the line to meet him in the middle.

Upon seeing his expression her face falls. “Are you okay?” She asks softly, her face riddled with worry.

Jake, in turn, softens when she speaks, “Yeah, cariño—I’m okay, nothing I can’t handle…”

Of course, this gets just as confused as everything else about this place. Emma takes it to mean that the battle was difficult but that he prevailed. This floods her with relief.

“Why do you think they have us eat if we’re—ya know?” She asks, changing the subject.

“To keep up our strength, you can’t heal if you’re running on empty…”

Emma, of course takes this to mean healing to get to Heaven.

And Jake, can just see her mind working over it. “I promise you’re alive, sweet one…I know that’s confusing right now…”

“But—”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, knowing that this isn’t exactly the place to trust others, but wanting her to know she can trust him.

Emma doesn’t hesitate, immediately nodding. “Yes…”

“Good.” He encourages with a gentle smile. “Then believe me—you will get better and you will leave this place…”

She just can’t wrap her mind around it, even as he nods toward the line of patients slowly filing out for the cafeteria.

She turns to walk with him, her mind such a mess of contradictions and beliefs that overlap. Everything has a significance and things that shouldn’t be possible are commonplace.

She wonders if it’ll ever make sense, but then, it simultaneously already does for her.

Jake wants so badly to reach for her hand but knows he shouldn’t. He can tell she’s lost in thought again the whole way there and even after they get their trays.

She gets so lost, in fact, that she forgets to tell the server what she wants. Or so he thinks until she speaks.

“I don’t want the meat…”

“Do you have a vegetarian meal plan?” The cook asks blandly.

“No?”

“Well then, this is what you’re having.”

Emma frowns, “but I can’t eat it…”

“Come on, you’re holding up the line.”

She asks for extra of the sides even though she truthfully doesn’t feel like she’s got an appetite at all.

As she and Jake find a table he scowls lightly at her.

“I didn’t know you were a vegetarian…”

“I’m not—but it looked like if I ate it I’d be sick…”

As another patient passes her and hears, she scoffs, “Sounds like you’re pregnant.”

Emma frowns again, her mind rushing through thoughts again. “But I’m not…”

Her thoughts work over the idea, thinking of how she could be pregnant without having been with anyone.

Jake glares at the woman before turning to Emma, “Ignore her…” He reassures her.

“I’m not hungry…” She grumbles, pushing her tray away.

He sighs heavily, feeling like he could take better care of her than this damn hospital and every employee in it put together.

“Maybe just drink your milk?”

Emma thinks on what she knows of pregnancy, her mind getting confused thinking maybe Jake thinks the other woman was right.

“I’m not pregnant…” she repeats, pausing. “Am I?”

Suddenly, Jake worries, doubting she’s actually pregnant but that she’s that lost in her mind.

“I know you’re not—but the milk will at least give you some protein…” He tries.

Emma sighs, “okay…”

Taking a page out of Marc’s book, Jake opens his own carton, taking a long gulp out of it and hoping she’ll follow suit.

He can see her hands shaking as she reaches for hers, struggling to get it open.

He reaches patiently to help her with it before handing it back.

Emma thanks him softly and takes a drink from it, scrunching up her nose as she swallows it.

“We can’t leave her here by herself…” He mumbles out the side of his mouth as she gets distracted playing with her food aimlessly.

‘I know,’ Marc is the first to reply.

‘I’m not sure what we can do—‘side from giving ‘er our number…’ Steven adds.

Like a lightbulb of his own, Jake turns to the side, “That might be it, Steven…”

Emma perks up, already tuned in, “do I get to meet him soon?”

‘Is it strange I’m a bit nervous to meet her? Not like anxious, ‘ve course, not like scared, but y’know—nervous?’ Steven rambles quietly.

Jake grins lightly, giving Emma’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Maybe after dinner—if you eat a couple bites of your vegetables…”

It feels like a dirty trick, but it’s the only way he can think to get her to eat anything.

Immediately, Emma rushes to take a big mouthful, making a face as she chews but swallowing nonetheless. And then she goes for another.

‘Does she really want t’ meet me that badly?’ Steven asks anxiously in the headspace.

‘Apparently so…’ Marc replies.

‘Oh god, I hope I don’t let ‘er down…’

Emma clears all of her vegetables and half her mashed potatoes before stopping.

Jake can’t help but watch warmly, feeling like this might be up there with some of his greatest accomplishments.

He eats some of his own tray before they’re called to head back, admittedly not wanting to relinquish control of the body to Steven.

When they get back everyone seems to head toward the day room to watch TV before the final group of the day.

Jake hangs back, Emma likewise following his lead.

She watches him anxiously, playing with her fingers.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Jake asks, sneaking a soft touch to her face.

Emma nods quickly, watching in awe as he stiffens, his face contorting and then settling.

When Steven comes forward, he offers her the softest smile, “hello, love…”

Emma immediately launches herself at him, engulfing him in a tight hug causing a gust of breath to punch out of him.

As if remembering what Marc said about not being supposed to do that she retreats, biting her lip nervously.

“Hi, Steven…” She mumbles quietly.

“Oh, bollocks…” He breathes. “Don’t think you’re meant to fall in love in these places…”

Emma’s eyes only shy away, rolling her lips in causing her dimples to dip into her cheeks.

‘Think we’re in trouble, boys…’ Jake speaks once more.

‘I hate to say it—but you might be right…’ Marc agrees.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } emma's first meeting with the doctor goes about as well as you'd think and marc gets firsthand experience of what it feels like to be jake. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector, emma harper x steven grant, && emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, emma meets the doctor, angst { I guess? I don't know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I've done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. marc is a danger to himself here but it's only really alluded to in this part. mental hospitals. toxic as fuck doctor, typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma's psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned. { author's note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I've been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { word count: } 1,016 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

She’s quiet on the way back to their wing, a soft scowl seemingly forever over her features.

Marc wants to say something, but doesn’t.

He isn’t sure what she’s hearing as they cross through the locked doors but he knows she’s more caught up in her mind than she is present in the goings on around them.

While the rest of them file into the day room to receive their meds, she’s escorted through another door.

Marc feels a spike of anxiety.

He knows she’s going to see the doctor for the first time and having been to this particular hospital more than once, he knows this doctor.

A harsh and cruel man who deals out diagnoses like poker chips and always loads everyone up on too much medication, that their usual psychiatrists then have to sort out after they’re discharged.

He finds himself pacing the hallway like a caged wild animal, tense and binding their time.

Meanwhile, Emma is taken outside to a sort of courtyard and seated at a table in front of a heartless looking man with a massive binder in front of him.

She shifts nervously on the bench across from him taking in her surroundings and reminiscing on how bright it is and how much it makes her think of the garden of Eden.

The man folds his hands on top of the open binder and gives a menacing smile. “Alright Emma, I like to make deals—do you like to make deals? If you take my medication for three days, I’ll let you go home…”

And just like that, the proverbial serpent seems to take her into a chokehold. Her throat tightens and she finds it hard to breath despite being outside in the fresh air.

She forces a swallow, unable to find her voice.

“Sign here if you agree…”

The man – who she’s now sure is the devil himself – turns a contract around and reaches out a pen with the same sickening smile.

Emma feels like she’s signing her soul away but he gives no other option other than to do so. It feels like a trap, another test that she can’t help but fail.

She doesn’t even remember how to sign her whole name in the confusion of her brain, but she scribbles a ‘signature.’

“Wonderful…” The doctor says, “you can go back inside now.”

Emma stiffly gets up from where she sits, walking back toward the door where they wait to let her back in.

When she’s led back into the wing she can see Marc at the end of the hallway near her room. As if by some latent telepathy, he looks up, locking eyes with her.

She feels trapped now more than ever, like she doesn’t know what to do. So her feet carry her toward him, his own moving to meet her in the middle.

As soon as he gets closer he can see her trembling, tears welling up in her eyes.

He doesn’t know what to do because he can’t hug her but he can tell she’s terrified.

“How’d it go?” He asks, winded and unsure.

Emma shakes her head quickly, falling into a sob that rakes through her body as the tears spill over.

‘That bloody doctor,’ Steven curses.

‘I’ll kill him myself…’ Jake adds.

Marc, on the other hand, feels like he’s never wanted to hug somebody so badly in his life—the one time he can’t.

He wishes he could take her somewhere quiet so she could calm down—but going into each other’s rooms are off limits and the day room is crowded this time of day.

“I’m so sorry…” is all he can say, giving her a soft look of empathy.

Emma, on the other hand, not knowing any better—rushes forward to wrap her arms tightly around Marc’s middle, clinging to him.

It startles him, a little surprised she’d be comfortable enough to do it in the first place.

Risking hell from the hospital staff he does what he instinctively wants to, what feels right—and hugs her back. He can’t help but keep an eye out for prying looks and of course, the staff.

Emma sobs softly against him, feeling safe for the first time in the last 24 hours, as she shakes in his arms.

He holds her as long as he can before it becomes too risky, and withdraws. He gives her a soft look fighting every urge to wipe away her tears.

“We—we’re not really…supposed to do things like that here—I don’t wanna get you in trouble.” He explains gently.

Emma nods quickly even if she misconstrues his meaning for being about what’s appropriate in this liminal space.

She wipes furiously at her eyes.

“Why don’t we sit here for a minute?” He suggests, sliding down the wall along the hallway and reaching his hand up for hers, risking reprimand again.

As if sensing a thought Marc hardly has, Jake speaks up in their headspace, ‘Let them yell at you for helping her—I’ll gladly give them a piece of my mind…’

Marc doesn’t need to see his face in a reflective surface to know the malice in his eyes, the threat that’s far from empty.

Emma takes his hand, moving to sit next to him on the floor. She instinctively rests her head against his shoulder, and he feels as though he suddenly knows exactly how Jake must feel when he protects him and Steven.

He releases a heavy sigh and conceals their clasped hands between them if only for the sake of being able to continue holding hers a little longer.

It occurs to him that the next 80 some odd hours would be crucial for her, and he’s not sure it’ll be long enough to make sure she’s okay.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, boys?” He mutters to the other two in his head. Emma doesn’t seem to mind the way he talks to them in the least, only squeezing his hand tighter.

‘Think we’re gonna need to make an appearance…’ Jake suggests darkly.

‘Most. Definitely.’ Steven agrees.

[dreamyxlore]

{ i'll follow you into the dark }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } a different kind of morning after. marc learns a little more about what emma is going through and emma becomes more certain than ever that marc might just be an honest to god angel. { pairing: } | eventual | original character { emma harper } x marc spector, emma harper x steven grant, and emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, slight bullying by another patient, angst { I guess? I don't know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes { warnings: } severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I've done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. marc is a danger to himself here but it's only really alluded to in this part. mental hospitals. bullying by emma's roommate. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of emma's psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned. { author's note: } after I finished reading "tear down my reason" by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction it inspired me to work on an idea I've been playing with about emma and the boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really aren't works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. this series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. { word count: } 1,599 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

The next morning, Marc wakes up on too little sleep, vaguely aware of the nurse wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

He takes in a deep breath, forgetting where he is for a second before the memories come flooding back to him.

He releases the breath in a heavy sigh, inwardly hating himself for winding up here. Again. The nurse finishes taking his vitals and tells him they’ll be leaving for breakfast soon.

Somehow, eating food seems like the last thing he wants to do and he debates whether or not to stay back.

His eyes pop open with a start when he remembers her. His resolve to talk to her again is challenged by both his exhaustion and the self-loathing belief that he couldn’t possibly help her.

‘I want to see her again, Marc…’ Jake sounds off.

‘And you need to eat something—can’t go runnin’ around on nothing…’

“I don’t plan on doing any running, Steven…”

‘Marc…’ Jake presses.

Marc pushes out another sigh, swinging his legs out and leaning over the side of the bed, burying his face in his hands.

He walks over to the small plastic cubby on the wall that holds his clothes, pulling on an oversized sweatshirt and running a hand over his face.

He steps out into the hallway, looking in either direction, and notices he’s one of the first to be up. Typical. He releases a yawn and moves toward the day room to see if she’s in there.

The room is all but empty but he finds a seat, slumping back the same way he had the night before.

‘I hope she’s doing a bit better today…she looked so frightened last night…’

Marc doesn’t want to show any concern for her, a girl he doesn’t even know, but there’s an underlying worry in his gut.

“Me too, buddy, me too…” He mumbles, telling himself it’s only for Steven’s sake.

More patients filter into the room and still she’s nowhere to be seen.

Half an hour later they’re calling everyone to line up if they’re going to breakfast.

He pushes from the chair and makes his way to the line.

She catches his eye, coming out of the room furthest to the end of the hallway on the right, just before the locked entrance to the wing. He notes that she’s still wearing a standard issue hospital gown instead of real clothing.

She’s talking to one of the floor staff, looking confused the same way she did last night, before they usher her to the end of the line.

Marc abandons his place near the middle to join her.

“Hey…” He gently greets her. “How’d you sleep?” He asks, hoping she’s more lucid today.

“Sleep?” She repeats, her mind working over his question.

Another voice chimes in over her, “she slept in the shower after she put on my clothes…” Another girl says grumpily, before she really looks at Marc.

When she takes him in, she clears her throat, straightening up a little bit and smoothing out her clothes. “You’re new…” She says, brightening a little.

Marc pays less than an ounce of attention to her after she explains what happened with Emma.

“Are you okay?” He asks her softly and frowning, wanting to reach out to give her some kind of physical comfort but knowing he shouldn’t.

Emma’s eyebrows pull together, shaking her head quickly just before their attention is pulled away to the staff leading them out of the wing and down through the building to the cafeteria.

As they go through the line, Emma takes hardly anything to eat which only settles more worry in Marc’s stomach.

She goes to sit alone, setting her tray down and pulling her hands into her lap, fiddling anxiously with her fingers.

Marc makes his way over, eyeing all of the other tables of people who’d grouped up.

Her roommate can be seeing staring at her from one such group, clearly gossiping about ‘the new girl’ to avid listeners.

“Can I sit with you?” He asks, keeping his voice as light as he can.

Emma nods quickly, scowling at her lap.

“Thanks,” He replies, trying to get her to talk as he slides into the chair next to her that intentionally blocks her from her roommate’s view.

“You should try to eat something, it’ll make you feel better…” He suggests.

Emma shakes her head, avoiding his eyes.

Marc nods, scrunching up the side of his face, “yeah…I’m not really hungry either…”

The other two in his mind watch quietly with bated breath.

“Y’know, I wanted to say last night…you’re not dead, you’re in the hospital, this isn’t—”

Emma looks up at him wide-eyed, so sure once again that it’s a test. She can’t even form coherent words.

Marc pauses, able to tell that no matter what he says, she’s just not capable of understanding right now.

“Are you scared of me?” He asks gently.

Emma is quick to shake her head.

She wants to tell him that she’s sure he’s an angel, sent to guide her through this process.

After all, no one had been nearly as kind to her since she’d gotten here. And he had been there as soon as she’d landed here, wherever here was.

Her response provokes Marc to worry that if Steven or Jake were to come forward she might become scared.

He tries to find a way to tell her without perpetuating whatever confusion is going on in her brain right now.

‘Careful, Marc…’ Jake reminds him.

Emma seems to be lost in her own thoughts as Marc watches her. He can almost see her battling people within her own mind.

“Are you hearing people in your head?” He asks, keeping his tone in check.

Emma nods quickly, casting her eyes to her lap again.

“I know what that’s like…” Marc nods.

Again, he wants so badly to explain to her about Steven and Jake but he knows how tricky it would be to do so without scaring her in her present state.

“Sometimes—…” He starts.

He presses his lips together with another scowl.

“Sometimes, I might not be…me…sometimes you might see Steven…or Jake…they’re friends of mine and we…we sorta—share— a body…”

Emma’s eyes fly to his, widening again, looking more than a little nervous, her voice tremoring, “l-like possession?”

‘Well done, Marc, scare the poor girl…’ Steven rolls his eyes.

Marc keeps his tone light, with a quiet, tense laugh. “More like roommates…in my brain…”

“A-are you sure they’re not…demons?”

“I’m sure…” He nods, taking no offense to the question as he starts to piece together what her brain is going through at present.

“Is that what you think you’re hearing right now?” He asks.

Emma nods quickly and then shakes her head, “That is what I’m hearing…and—I think some of the people here might be—ya know—” She pauses, giving him a look, “too…”

Marc glances around, nodding again with a pinch of his eyebrows. “I can see why you’d say that. But they’re not…they’re just sick…”

Emma stares at her untouched meal tray, swallowing, unconvinced.

“I promise if you see Steven or Jake, you don’t have to be afraid of them, in fact…they help me when I’m  scared…”

“Th-they do?” She stammers.

Marc gives her a look of certainty, nodding slowly with a warm hum of an, “Mhmm…”

“So they’re more like, angels then?” She asks hopefully.

Marc can’t help a soft but good natured laugh, “Yeah, kinda I guess…”

His laughter puts her more at ease. She nods in seeming understanding.

Marc eyes her tray, knowing it can’t possibly be good for her condition to not eat.

“I’ll eat three bites if you do?” He offers, strategically inserting a number of significance to the kind of spirituality that her brain seems fixated on.

Emma summons a deep breath and lets it out in a huff of a sigh through her nose, scowling at her plate.

But her brain deduces that three is a good number, like God. So she agrees.

Marc can just see the gears turning in her brain, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping using the number three specifically wouldn’t make her more inclined.

She reaches for her fork, stabbing at her eggs haphazardly. She gives him a questioning look when she raises the first bite to her mouth, waiting for the go ahead.

Marc nods and offers a quiet smile, likewise reaching to take a bite of his own.

Emma watches him carefully, waiting for him to do it with her.

As they take the bite together, in some indescribable way, it makes her trust him.

She takes the second bite more easily, doing so without him but still keeping an eye on him to make sure he’ll eat too.

She’s not sure if angels eat human food, but her logic is that if it’s good for her to eat, it must also be good for him. And despite everything, she wants so badly to help him too.

Marc takes a sip of orange juice and then repeats the bite from before.

This affirms to her that he keeps his promises and she takes the final bite.

‘Nicely done, Marc—think she’s starting to like you…’ Steven tells him more genuinely this time, the grin in his voice evident.

Marc likewise can’t keep another light smile from his lips as he finishes his own third bite.

It doesn’t even occur to him, that in this moment, he’s all but completely forgotten the real reason he’s here.

[dreamyxlore]

{ summary: } marc goes to apologize to emma the day after an intense argument but not before beating himself up about everything that went down and a stern talking to from Steven and Jake. { prompt: } "I'm so sorry." from @ivystoryweaver ivy's angstember event 2024 { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x marc spector mentions of Emma Harper x Steven Grant && Emma Harper x Jake Lockley { contents: } angst as fuck, hurt/comfort, happy ending { warnings: heavy self-loathing, arguments, mentions of severe mental illness, swearing, I think that's it? { author's note: } this is a repost, so the angstember event has long since past. but I'm also gonna be picking at those prompts in the coming days, so...yolo! { word count: } 1,565 { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

He’s sure he’s pushed her away for the last time.

One last powerful bout of self-loathing projected onto her and he’s sure that’s it. His thoughts run wild with crippling fear and paralyzing doubt.

She’d tried so hard to calm him and ease all of the pain he was inflicting on himself, but he’d only pushed her harder.

‘Don’t you get it?! This is just who I am! This is just what I do!’ He’d yelled.

‘Marc—that’s not true…’ She replied so softly, reaching for him.

As her fingers had grazed his arm, he’d torn it away. ‘Yes, it is, Emma!’

‘No…’ She’d insisted. ‘You’re just—’

‘Don’t you dare say different…’ He’d cut her off, pointing a finger at her, using their own words against her.

She’d flinched then, ‘I was gonna say ‘upset’…’

‘Just go! Leave! We both know you want to…’

She’d started crying then, and he’d only hated himself even more. She’d been patient up until then, in fact, she’d remained patient even after. She’d grabbed her bag, sniffling quietly and trying to conceal her tears. Her voice had shaken around the words, try as she had to say them clearly. The softest, “I love you…” and then she’d exited through the door.

It haunts him even now realizing that after she’d walked out that door, she’d had to call someone for a ride home at best, or order an Uber to come pick her up on the side of the road at worst.

That’s what he’d done to her—thrown her out in the street on a cold, rainy September night because he couldn’t deal. But it was worse than that. He hadn’t even told her he loved her back because he was so sure he didn’t deserve her love in the first place. He’d accused her of wanting to leave despite countless attempts to soothe him and remind him that she didn’t.

And he’d watched her go. Hadn’t even tried to go after her despite how desperately he’d wanted to.

What was worse – the other two hadn’t been around when he did it, leaving him to explain the next day why she wasn’t there; why he was so hungover.

That was another fight altogether.

‘Marc, if you don’t go right now, and fix this—’ Steven had said firmly, usually the one to be softer with Marc when things got hard.

Marc had looked in the reflection of their mirrored closet door, leaned over the side of the bed.

Jake had stood quietly, stern look across his features, ‘Don’t look at me, hermano—Steven’s right…’

‘You’re damn bloody right I am!’ Steven had released the bridge of his nose he was pinching.

‘She’s not gonna wanna see me guys—I really fucked up this time…’

‘You fucked up?’ Steven had repeated incredulously. ‘And how ‘re we gonna fix this if you don’t go talk t’ her…’

‘Maybe—one of you should—’

‘Oh no—no—I’ll be there for moral support an’ all but you’ve gotta fix this yourself…’

‘He’s right again, Marc—we can’t apologize for you—she doesn’t want to hear it from us—and she deserves to hear it from you…’

After that, he’d taken three ibuprofen, swallowed a whole glass of water, and taken a long, too hot shower. Thankfully, they’d supported him through that too. He felt awful to say the least. If he didn’t feel like throwing up because of the hangover, he felt it because of the nerves.

Images and soundbites from the night before replayed in his head over and over near to the point of madness. Thinking about that only made him feel worse. He could’ve done more damage than he’d previously realized. If she was even put into a situation that was too high stress it could cause her to go over the edge of psychosis.

At the idea, he’d begun to move much faster than he had been, worry suddenly spinning within him. He’d all but sped to her apartment, even if he knew she would only just be getting up. He’d stopped along the way at her favorite coffee shop, picking up breakfast and something to drink for them both. It felt like a cheap, shitty excuse for an apology, not enough after everything he’d put her through.

As he stood about to knock on her apartment door, his hand shook. He took a deep breath in but didn’t get a chance to even make contact with the door as her best friend opened it.

Caroline stood with her arms crossed all but blocking the way in. “Ya know?” She’d started, seeming to get so frustrated she’d forgotten what she’d been about to say. She’d sighed, softening as she glanced over her shoulder toward Emma’s bedroom. “Come in…--she’s awake but it’s gonna be like pulling teeth to get her out of bed…”

Marc had nodded, releasing a heavy sigh, “I’m so—”

“Ah! Don’t you dare apologize to me before you apologize to her…”

He’d nodded again and stepped inside.

“I’m gonna go to Cam’s—give you guys some privacy—” She’d paused, “please don’t make me pick her up on the side of the road at 10PM in the rain, again, Spector—” Her voice had gotten even softer, reaching to give his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “—okay?”

“Okay…” He almost inaudibly replied.

She’d taken her leave and he’d taken another deep breath. He took off his jacket and shoes and made his way toward her room.

When he’d found her, she was curled up in a ball facing away from the doorway. She’d sniffed quietly, knowing he was there and doing what she could to again, hide any tears she’d shed because of the fight.

He moves now to set the drink tray on her bookshelf opposite the foot of her bed, placing the paper bag beside it. He rounds the corner of the empty side of her bed, his side of the bed.

His eyebrows squeeze tightly together, rising in the center as he sits in front of her. He looks as pained as she feels as her eyes rise slowly and timidly to his.

“Hey baby…” He starts, his voice tremoring as he fights off tears, himself. “I am so sorry…” He finishes in a whisper. He shakes his head slowly, struggling to hold her eyes. “Please don’t leave us…please don’t leave me…”

Almost before he can even finish, she’s sitting up and crawling into his lap, clinging to him.

His arms find their way snugly around her middle, cradling her firmly to him. His fingers sink deeply into her hair, pressing a series of firm kisses to her temple. “I love you so much, baby, I’m so sorry…”

Emma struggles to find her voice no matter how badly she wants to reply in kind. She withdraws just enough to look between his eyes, timidly pressing her lips to his.

His lips only catch hers, pulling strongly at them as he continues to cradle her against himself. He releases a deep sigh against her just before she pulls back. She shyly signs to him that it’s okay and that she loves him too.

Guilt clutches his heart again, when she doesn’t speak verbally. He strokes his fingers through her hair again, combing it back around her ear. “Are you okay?” He asks gently, his eyes slowly scaling her face.

She’s quick to nod, again signing that she is now. She chokes back a soft sob of a laugh, even as a few more tears slip down her face. She presses another grateful kiss to his lips and then points over toward the coffee, asking silently if he’s brought breakfast.

His lips bounce off of hers gently as he gives another long sigh of relief, brushing her tears away carefully. “It’s admittedly not homemade—but I was thinking we could at least have breakfast in bed…”

Her face brightens, shifting out of his lap and shooing him off the bed.

He doesn’t need her to say anything else—verbally or nonverbally—to know she wants him to get more comfortable. Though that doesn’t stop her from teasingly signing for him to ‘play the part.’ At which point he strips off his jeans and t-shirt, before grabbing the tray and the bag and bringing them back to where she sits animatedly waiting.

She pulls the blankets back so he can climb inside and then snuggles right back up to him, leaning in to press a slow kiss to his throat unable to resist inhaling his scent.

His muscles, once tense, begin to relax as her lips brush his skin. He hands her, her coffee and likewise can’t resist the urge to softly insist. “Y’know I really don’t deserve you…”

Emma takes the cup and immediately swats him in the stomach, scowling and wagging a finger in a not-so-formal way of telling him not to go there.

“A compliment—not an accusation, baby…” He defends.

She rolls her eyes and only holds onto him tighter.

‘Thank the bloody gods…’ Steven grumbles in his mind, looking at his wit’s ends in the reflection of her bedroom windows.

“Steven says hi…” He teases, his tone indicating just how much trouble he’s in.

Emma snorts and presses another kiss to the edge of his jaw, before settling again and finally taking a sip from her coffee.