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[thexsanctuaryx]

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[thexsanctuaryx]

{ summary: } emma has a night terror and accidentally injures jake in the process. { prompt: } “nightmare” from spring 2024 mk bingo @moonknight-events { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x jake lockley && a sprinkle of emma harper x steven grant { content: } hurt/comfort, real fluffy angst, established relationship, twin flame relationship, OC is deeply psychic and can communicate with the boys telepathically due in part to twin flame bond  { warnings: } nightmares, allusions to being attacked in said nightmares but left vague { author’s note: } this is from 2024 mk bingo that I wasn’t well enough to participate in at the time. I’m slowly chipping away at the bingo cards I was given even though the event is long since over because the prompts were great and the whole point was after all to get more mk content out there! so that’s what I intend to do! { word count: } 874 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

He’s quick to wake when he feels her start to become restless, his senses ever hypervigilant.

It happens so fast it all gets blurred together.

He calls to her once, a soft, “nena…” as he cradles her jaw, attempting to gently wake her.

She releases a distressed moan, shifting to get away from where he holds her in the darkness of their bedroom.

“Nena—" He attempts to carefully shift her awake.

And in a microsecond, she thrusts the heel of her hand up, colliding firmly with his nose as she wriggles to get away.

“Fuck!” he whispers as blood starts trickling from his nostrils, too concerned about her to worry about himself.

Her eyes finally pop open heavily, darting around the inky blackness that surrounds them, a gasp drawing in the air she struggles to take in.

She releases it heavily and attempts to suck in another breath.

Jake swiftly reaches for her again, his voice is quiet but audible enough that she knows it’s him and not whoever she was attempting to fight off.

“Hey—it’s me, mi vida—”

Her eyes slowly come to focus on him, a choke of a sob leaving her.

“You’re safe—you’re home…” He tells her, reaching to comb his fingers through her hair.

She nods quickly, her face crumpling as she releases another sob, curling up against him the way she had been before.

He wraps one arm securely around her while pinching the bridge of his nose with the other hand so as to keep from bleeding on her.

“You’re safe, mi alma, you’re safe—it’s okay…” He consoles her further.

She buries her face in his chest, shaking it as she continues to cry.

He’s used to her night terrors – they all are, in fact, good dreams are rare for her – something she shares with Marc.

There are a few different kinds of subject matter but the reaction she had upon waking was pretty telltale of a certain type.

He frowns deeply as she works through it, gently rubbing her back and reassuring her softly with his words until she slows down.

He knows better than to suggest going back to sleep right away, and he wouldn’t risk her going back into such a nightmare – not when he couldn’t protect her from the demons she faced.

“Come on, sweet one—let’s get up for a little bit…” He murmurs, reaching to turn the light on, on the nightstand behind her.

She nods quickly, sniffling quietly as she untangles herself from him.

She squints as the light illuminates the room, her eyes almost immediately falling on the trails of blood from his nose.

“Jake—did I—”

He takes her hand – the same one she’d struck him with – with his that’s now free, carefully pressing a kiss to it while avoiding his nose.

“I’ve had worse, amor—though it was impressive—I don’t think it’s broken…” He smirks at her.

She scoffs, a quiet smile coming to her lips despite her tear-stained cheeks, giving him a soft shove.

He combs his fingers through her hair again, the corner of his lips tugging up a little more.

“Come on, up…”

She doesn’t hesitate to do as she’s told, immediately getting up and entering their bathroom to retrieve a damp washcloth.

Jake takes the moment she’s gone to more properly appraise his injury, rotating his face and gingerly pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Think we’re wasting your talents as a mixed martial artist.” He calls to her as he shifts to sit up.

She comes back with one of those shy smiles he’s famous for bringing out of her – you know – the one where she does her best to fight it and pretends her heart isn’t fluttering on the inside.

Those are some of his favorite smiles and to elicit it from her so soon after such a bad night terror is a sure victory.

She feigns a laugh as she climbs into his lap and starts gently cleaning his upper lip and nose.

“Is it okay if I hold you or should I put on protective gear first?” He continues to tease.

She gives him another shove and he immediately grips her from behind, dragging her closer as she finishes cleaning up any residual blood, his lips coming to capture hers slowly.

She all but melts into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, tossing the washcloth back over her head as she deepens the kiss.

He gives her lips a long, slow pull before retreating.

“Are you okay?” He asks warmly between them, dropping any humor in favor of genuine concern.

She nods firmly, giving one last sniff, shifting to nestle her face back into his throat.

He cradles the back on her head one hand, his other arm wrapping snugly around her waist.

“Hopefully we gave you something sweeter to dream about…”

Emma only tightens herself around him, hiding a shy smile against him with a tiny nip at his skin.

There’s a quiet – judgmental – voice that sounds off in his mind—a voice which both of them can hear.

‘I would’ve made her a cup of tea…’

This, of course, only causes both of them to fall into soft laughter.

‘Honestly…’

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ summary: } emma confronts the boys, particularly jake, after another rough night that he’s come to blame himself for. after avoiding her most of the day, in the name of giving her ‘space,’ she refuses to let it go on any longer.  { prompt: } “insecure” from spring 2024 mk bingo @moonknight-events { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x jake lockley; bits of emma harper x steven grant && emma harper x marc spector  { contents: } angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, twin flame relationship, oc is deeply psychic and can communicate with the boys telepathically due in part to twin flame bond  { warnings: } mentions of sex the previous night, no smut, mentions of severe mental illness { psychosis, ptsd, anxiety, panic, depression }, self-loathing, self-blame, slight tough love { word count: } 1,507 { author’s note: } emma harper is the original character that will star in all of my fics with the boys. I’ve been writing them for a while now and the relationship is super established unless stated otherwise. emma && the boys have what is known as a twin flame union – think ultimate soulmate of soulmates / two halves of the same soul; you only get one of these and they are extremely rare, typically reincarnate with each other over thousands of years on this planet, if not before even coming to this planet from other star systems. for this reason, the four of them are able to telepathically communicate which is also common with this kind of bond, among other things. p.s. yes, this is from 2024 mk bingo that I wasn't well enough to participate in at the time. this has been sitting in my drafts since last winter. I'm slowly chipping away at the bingo cards I was given even though the event is long since over because the prompts were great and the whole point was after all to get more mk content out there! so that's what I intend to do! { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

She’s been crumpled up on the couch most of the afternoon, waiting for one of them to come out of hiding in the bedroom. Every now and then she can hear Steven mumble something unintelligible out of frustration from this distance, but they never surface. 

She knows why – it doesn’t take a psychic to know exactly what’s going on here.

Thinking back on the night before, she heaves a deep sigh, closing her eyes. Well aware that they, too, could read her mind as easily as Steven now reads the pages of his book, she wonders at how they can’t tell she’s not upset.

Well, not in the way they’re thinking. 

When she’s finally had enough, Emma forces herself off of the couch, shuffling toward the bathroom to give herself a brief pep-talk in the mirror.

More like pre-game talk.

She fixes herself in the mirror, tugging at Jake’s oversized t-shirt – the kind he reserves for his days off. It hugs the thickness of her hips, barely covering her bare thighs.

She turns the sink on and splashes her face with the water, frigid from the pipes that are ice cold with the winter. Upon drying her face, she pulls her long brown hair from the messy top knot she has it in, meaning business.

She takes one last exasperated look at herself in the mirror before breathing a deep huff of an exhale. 

Making her way upstairs to their bedroom, she doesn’t even knock on the door. Marching assertively over to their bed before Steven can finish a shaky ‘O-oh! Hello love!’

Her fingers close around the spine of his book, making sure to mark his page before setting the book on the nightstand.

Steven just looks at her – half puzzled, half nervous as she swiftly claims the spot in his lap, and raises a finger to his lips to silence anything he might have said. 

Her voice is steady, her eyes smoldering with determination, “I need to talk to Jake...” 

Steven’s hand closes around hers at his mouth, giving it a gentle squeeze as he lowers it between them. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, darling—” 

As if some verbal foot stomp, Emma cuts him off, “No! I’m done being coddled – the three of you have been avoiding me all day. I want to see him, now.” 

Marc seems to sigh from the headspace, ‘Baby, listen – you got overwhelmed last night and Jake –’ 

Emma’s shoulders drop, her voice hitching up, “And Jake didn’t DO anything wrong! Nothing that happened was his fault.” 

It’s Steven’s turn to interject, “Think you’re gonna have a tough time convincing him of that, love...” 

Marc is quick to follow up, ‘And anyway, he’s not around, we can’t even feel him right now.’

She frees her hand stubbornly from Steven’s grip, raising it and the other toward their face causing him to almost flinch, pulling his head back. Emma sighs softly, all but pleading with a quiet sadness in her eyes, “Please let me try…”

Steven returns the sigh and nods silently, which only receives a warning, ‘Steven…’ from Marc within the headspace. The former quiets him almost immediately, “We’ve gotta at least let her try, mate…”

He rests his hands at her thighs, giving them an encouraging graze from his thumbs, his voice quiet, giving a small smile as she seems to falter.

At his reassurance, she proceeds to rest each of her hands at their temples. She stares deeply between their eyes, locking on them, her brows pulling together and rising in the center.

Steadily, she reaches out in her mind to theirs her tone the same soft energy she so desperately wants to impart, ‘Jake—I know you’re in there, baby, and I know you’re hiding from me—but you don’t have to ever hide from me, I promise—I’m right here, and I need to see you, please come back to me…’

As she speaks within their mind, she releases one hand only to bring it back to comb through their hair, effectively loosening some of their curls as she continues to beg with her eyes connected to theirs, her fingers continuing their rhythmic movements.

She can feel how badly Marc wants to come to the front instead, but holds back.

It doesn’t take long for Steven’s eyes to slip shut, his own eyebrows tugging together as he gives a slow breath. Their body goes slightly rigid for mere seconds before their eyes open again, this time reading much more pained than they had moments earlier.

Emma’s hand at his temple shifts to cradle his jaw as the other continues it gentle movements through his hair. The response is quick, instinctive as Jake reaches to remove both of her hands from him, his expression riddled with guilt. Just as quickly he releases her hands in favor of trying to lift her out of his lap, his voice hoarse, as if already holding back tears, “I shouldn’t be here cariño—and you shouldn’t—"

Her tone albeit gentle, has a stern edge as she wraps her legs firmly around his body, forcing her own to weigh as heavily on him as she can. “Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do Jake Lockley, that’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”  

His eyes won’t even meet hers at this point, only muttering angrily. “I pushed you too hard—I didn’t—”

She searches out his eyes, pouting at him, “you didn’t what?” Her voice is laced with determination, ready to challenge whatever bullshit his brain has been telling him.

“I didn’t even get proper consent…” He mumbles in defeat, his eyes finally rising to hers with the same challenging edge. “…and even if I had—I was too rough with you…”

“No—no—Jake listen, I was consenting—the whole. time.” She brings her hands back up to his jaw, her thumbs brushing over the hollows of his cheeks. “I wanted all of it…”

He reaches to take her hands off of him again but she only holds tighter, likewise tightening her legs around him. The crease between her brows rises in the center again, her eyes pleading with him to not just understand what she’s saying but to accept it.

“We have a safe word for a reason, papi, and I didn’t even think to use it—not once…” Her voice is soft as if worried about scaring him as she reaches to comb through his curls.

“Because I was too rough with you…” He seemingly adds for her stubbornly.

“No…” Emma repeats as she presses a gentle kiss to his forehead before resting her own against it. She sinks her fingers into his hair at the back of his head, anchoring him against her. “Because I didn’t want or need to…”

Jake’s eyes slip shut, burning with tears as her lips make contact with his skin, frowning into her as she rests against him. He takes in a shaky breath through his nose, his words cracking on the ends. “But you got overwhelmed and—”

“That wasn’t your fault—” She assures him in the same warm, gentle tone. “My brain got tired and started to break…you know that—it happens all the time.” She settles more heavily on him again, her fingertips rubbing lightly against his scalp.

“And—” She adds, as if divulging some super deep secret. “I don’t know if you know this—but you’re better at taking care of me when that happens than anyone else…”

Jake coughs out a wet laugh, shaking his head as tears slip down his cheeks.

Emma only kisses his forehead again, withdrawing just enough to then likewise kiss them as they fall.

He takes in another trembling breath and rushes forward to bury his face in her throat, wrapping his arms around her in a vice like grip, sobbing against her quietly.

She cradles him tightly to herself, tucking her chin over his head protectively.

“I’m so sorry…” He whispers.

“Shhh…” She presses another kiss to his head as she massages her fingers through his hair. “You have nothing to apologize for…”

“I should’ve taken care of you—I should’ve—”

“No…” She pauses. “You did the best you could…”

“No—I—” He coughs out another sob.

“It’s okay, baby…we’re okay…”

He clings to her as if scared she’ll disappear from right before him, his muscles tightening desperately, all but crushing her against himself.

She only reciprocates the death grip, allowing herself to weigh on him, knowing that it often helps him calm down.

They sit there like that for what feels like hours before he settles, finally withdrawing to swallow and catch her lips just as desperately.

She admittedly breathes a sigh of relief when his lips find hers, her own finding a slow, steady rhythm with them.

She breaks away just enough to whisper, “no more hiding…okay?”

Jake is quick to nod, his eyes looking heavily over her face, agreeing softly. “No more hiding, mami…”

[thexsanctuaryx]

{summary: } emma confronts jake about their relationship as a last hope of getting through to marc and steven. { prompt: } "you can't stop me." "who said I wanted to?" from @prompts-and-circumstance

{ pairing: } original character { emma harper } x jake lockley; mentions of emma harper x marc spector && emma harper x steven grant { contents: } angst, kinda fluffy, kinda friends to lovers, happyish ending { warnings: } none? I don't think for this one { author's note: } well hello again, I've recently been trying to challenge myself to write shorter one-off pieces as I tend to always end up getting carried away with things and struggle to keep them short let alone one-off. not totally satisfied with this piece but practice? right? { word count: } 881 { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

She’d been through this with Marc, even with Steven. They’d both insisted that being with them was too risky, too dangerous given their world.

Marc hadn’t been a surprise, especially given his history and his issues with self-worth. He’d made every excuse about the dangers of being involved with him but she knew deep down that there was more to it than that.

The real reason that he felt so strongly about keeping her at arms length was because he believed he wasn’t deserving of love. Not after all he’d ‘done.’ Not after all that had been done to him was more like it.

She’d been lying when she’d agreed that they’d continue to be nothing more than friends. She couldn’t stop herself from something that had already happened what felt like eons ago. She couldn’t go back and erase her feelings for him, and she didn’t want to.

Steven had been more of a surprise to her when he’d sided with Marc. She thought surely he’d see sense. She knew he reciprocated her feelings. He didn’t exactly have the best poker face.

With Marc, she might even be able to believe that he didn’t harbor the kind of attachment to her. He was good at stonewalling after years of practice.

But Steven? She pushes out a guttural sound of frustration as she makes her way now to confront Jake. Her final hope of getting through to them.

Jake might be pretty good at putting up walls, concealing his true feelings, but he didn’t have the self-loathing that Marc did. And he was more open about how he felt in general. He didn’t hold back. Still, he was more reserved with her when it came to certain things, this being one of them.

She knows he’s fronting and she knows he’s home. He always texted to check in on her when he was in control. When he’d asked how she was doing, she’d simply asked where he was. He’d told her and them asked why, worried something was wrong.

So here she was, standing in front of their door, about to raise her hand to knock when the door swings open first.

He’d been waiting. Initially, when she asked where he was, he’d panicked, ready to leave in a fraction of a second to go to her.

Despite hiding his own feelings from her since the first time they’d met, it didn’t negate their existence. In fact, he was almost certain that he was the one that embraced them the most. He wasn’t keeping them from her to deny them, or even to agree with the other two.

He'd kept them from her because they were so powerful that he worried they’d consume him if he weren’t careful.

Somehow though, he’d known she’d be coming and he knew why. He’d paced furiously over the floor the whole time it took her to arrive. But as if sensing her presence on the other side of that door, he opened it before she could even make herself known.

There’s a moment of a standstill as they just stare at each other. She looks so furious there are tears in her eyes.

“I’m not gonna apologize for what I want or how I feel…” She seethes through a shaky voice. “And you can’t stop me. You can’t stop me from loving you—from being in love with you—”

His response is immediate, cutting her off before she can continue, his voice deep and smooth.

“Who said I wanted to?”

She chokes back a sob, her chin dropping as she shakes her head.

Jake is quick to close the distance between them, fluidly moving into her space. He raises his hands to cradle her jaw, lifting it to look in her eyes even as they squeeze shut, cascading more tears down her cheeks.

“Look at me, nena…” He gently commands.

She coughs out another sob as his thumbs brush firmly at her tears. She opens her eyes pleadingly on his.

His heart aches when their eyes meet, knowing exactly what the other two had done to break her heart.

“I don’t want to. I don’t want you to stop feeling the way you do, because I feel the same way about you…”

Emma pushes out a disbelieving and unsteady laugh of another sob, “y-you do?”

He nods slowly, looking her directly in the eyes and leaving no room for doubt. His voice is low and strong.

“I love you too.”

He wastes no more time as he leans down, finally capturing her lips for the first time.

She all but melts into him, her legs almost giving out as her lips move slowly in time with his. Her arms slip up around his neck, releasing a shaky breath into him as she does her best to keep herself upright.

His own tension begins to drain, releasing his hold on her jaw in favor of lifting her into his arms. He carries her back into their apartment and kicks the door shut with force, refusing to let her go long enough to give it too much attention.

His mind briefly thinks on the other two, but only how intends to make his stance known.

Waking up beside her the next morning should be convincing enough.

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ summary: } steven takes ridiculously good care of emma while she's having a rough mental health moment. { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x steven grant, mentions of emma harper x marc spector && emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } fluff, psychic connection, energy healing, hurt/comfort esque, happy ending { warnings: } severe mental illness { hallucinations, overwhelm, overstimulation, anxiety, instability } didn't super go into detail in the piece but it's kinda the main part of this one. nothing else really I don't think? { author's note: } was gonna do some more angst and then I just couldn't last night. this piece had been sitting in my wip drafts for a bit. this one does again, tap on the psychic connection between emma and the boys that is prevalent in most of my works. they are deeply connected and can communicate telepathically, empathetically, etc. you'll notice emma is able to hear everything in their minds and vice versa. { word count: } 771 { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

She can feel her mind’s instability, her brain seeming to be sore and weak. As the overstimulation begins to take over more, her breath begins to get more shallow.

Everything is too loud, too bright even as she puts in her earbuds and turns on some music known for its nervous system regulatory effects. She hides her face beneath a pillow to get away from the light.

“You’re up, Steven,” Marc says quietly as he makes his way down the hallway, relinquishing control of the body.

Steven freezes for a moment as he adjusts, mumbling, “Cheers, mate...” He doesn’t pause again until he slides up behind her in the bed, kissing her shoulder firmly.

‘Hello, love…’ he murmurs in her mind softly.

Emma’s quick to scoot back into him, settling into his arms as she tries to focus on any one thing.

He tightens his arms around her, giving another slow kiss to the nape of her neck. He breathes deeply against her, settling a hand onto her abdomen as if silently encouraging her to breathe with him.

She follows suit almost immediately, taking in each inhale with him and releasing it on his exhale.

She squeezes her eyes shut tighter, clutching the pillow over her eyes more snugly.

Steven’s thumb gently grazes over her stomach, releasing a soft sympathetic sound as he attunes himself to her presently chaotic mind.

‘You’re alright, angel—we’ll pull through just like we always do…’ His warm voice resonates through her mind, not wanting to overwhelm her even more.

At his words, she shifts to face him, hugging herself tightly to his front and hiding her face in his neck. One of her earbuds falls out and he’s quick to retrieve it and return it to its place.

He then begins rhythmically stroking his fingers up and down her spine, tucking his head over hers protectively.

Minutes pass as he continues to do what he can to soothe her overstimulation. Truthfully, he’s not sure it’s as effective as he hopes but he doesn’t stop.

She takes what seems to be a much deeper breath on her own, as well that her body seems to unwind a little.

He's relieved to say the least as she continues to slow down, her thoughts quieting.

Emma can feel a low buzz resonating out through her spine into the rest of her body, likewise traveling up into her brain. It feels so nice and so peaceful—not to mention familiar, that she starts to wonder.

She frowns lightly, shifting back away from him just enough to face him.

“Steven…”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you—…did you just—”

His scowl of concentration matches her own, suddenly more worried again, “what is it? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” She murmurs, a little stunned, “it just felt like you were—…performing reiki…on me…”

“Oh bollocks, did I do it wrong? I was just—I mean—I thought it might ‘elp ya know—take the edge off and—bugger, I didn’t ask for consent first and—”

“Steven—Steven!” She calls gently to him, shaking her head and putting a hand to his cheek. “You didn’t do it wrong…and it did help…” She reassures him, giving him a soft smile.

“When did you learn how to do that?”

“Well, I just—y’know—I find so much of well—what you do, absolutely fascinating and I figured—‘f one ‘ve us knew how to do some of the healing bits it might help, what with y’know your conditions…’course Marc could do with some bloody healing t—”

She can’t help but beam at him as he rambles, silencing him before he can finish by rushing forward to catch his lips.

Steven’s eyebrows shoot up, his lips forming to hers in surprise but quickly moving firmly against them.

His eyes squeeze shut tighter as he shifts to pull her closer, almost completely forgetting everything else for a split second before retreating. Stumbling quietly, “maybe we shouldn’t, ya know…--I mean you aren’t feeling well…”

Emma rolls her lips in, the dimples dipping into her cheeks, her lashes fluttering shyly as she tells him softly, “thank you…”

When she gives him that look, he all but short circuits, getting stuck on her with a lopsided grin at his mouth, half in a daze, “For what, love?”

She pokes him in the chest a few times, timidly, “you know what…”

Quietly in their minds they can both hear a smug, ‘Steven Grant, King of Calm…’

Emma’s eyes flash down, trying to conceal a smile and failing as her cheeks begin to heat.

‘Oh yeah—overstimulation doesn’t stand a chance…’

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ summary: } emma is feeling insecure and goes to jake about it. based on the song "phobia" by savannah sgro { 2 of 3 } { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x jake lockley { implied } emma harper x marc spector && emma harper x steven grant { contents: } fluffy angst, hurt/comfort, insecurity, happyish ending { warnings: } none really { author's note: } I got really stuck on this song that reminded me so much of how emma feels about the boys, and so I decided to do a trilogy of "oneshots" based around the lyrics where each moon boy got a different lyric from emma. this is jake's. { word count: } 376 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

Her intrusive thoughts had gotten the better of her again. Intrusive thoughts and the trauma of her history. All of it had culminated into the certainty that this wouldn’t—even couldn’t last.

And it had become more than she could bear.

She’d promised herself that they’d just ‘talk’ about it, but her fears had quickly won out.

He’d been patient. He was always patient. That is, until he got to the point of putting his foot down.

“Jake I’m not even afraid of dying—but what I am afraid of is losing you—that somehow—you’ll—grow out of me or—”

“Nena—listen—that’s not gonna happen...ever…”

“You can’t know that—”

“But I do.” He says it with such certainty, as if there’s no further need to argue about it.

“But—”

“It’s not up for debate, mi alma…end of discussion…”

Her lips wobble, rolling them in, in an effort to steady them. Likewise, she wrings her hands together trying to find any way to keep from falling apart further.

Jake’s hands rise to her jaw, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. He searches her eyes out refusing to let her think that anything else is true.

She fights against meeting his gaze as her eyes pool with tears, sucking in a shaky breath through her teeth.

“Look at me…” He gently demands.

She immediately obeys, releasing the breath in a light sob as the tears spill over.

“I can’t—”

“You won’t…”

“How can you be sure?” She asks weakly.

“Because there will never be another you…”

She chokes back another sob and he immediately pulls her snugly into his arms, cradling her safely against him as she ceases to hold it in, falling into quiet tears against him.

She clings to him, feeling as though her legs will give out any moment.

He presses a firm kiss to her temple just before lifting her into his arms.

She continues to cry against him even as he carries her back toward their bedroom.

He doesn’t stop until she’s safely situated in his lap, curled up against him, softly quieting her as he combs his fingers through her hair.

“We’re gonna be okay…” He warmly whispers against her.

“Promise?” She whispers back.

“I promise…”

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ summary: } emma is feeling insecure and goes to steven about it. based on the song "phobia" by savannah sgro { 1 of 3 } { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x steven grant { mentions of } emma harper x marc spector && emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, insecurity, happy ending { warnings: } none really { author's note: } I got really stuck on this song that reminded me so much of how emma feels about the boys, and so I decided to do a trilogy of "oneshots" based around the lyrics where each moon boy got a different lyric from emma. this is steven's. { word count: } 747 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

He was supposed to be the easy one to talk to about things. He was softer than the other two, more sensitive and understanding in general. But somehow, when the moment comes to bring it up, she freezes.

She sits facing him on the couch, frowning at her lap.

“C’mon love, you can talk to me about anything, you know that…” He assures her gently, reaching to put a hand to her leg.

She squeezes her eyes shut, her face screwing up, shaking her head quickly. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can—come on now—I promise I’ll handle the others ‘f it comes to it…” He tells her, reaching to tuck her hair gently behind her ear and then tilting her chin up to face him.

“What’s bothering you?”

She apprehensively cracks her eyes open, almost afraid to even look at him as her brows knit together and rise slowly. “I—”

Steven releases her chin in favor of grazing the back of his knuckles over her cheek adoringly. “Go on…”

“I couldn’t deal with thought of you of leaving and—”

His features contort with worry, already hurting for her before she can even finish as his hand comes back around to cradle her jaw.

“And—” She tries again. “—and it’s all I can think about lately.” She shakes her head furiously.

“It’s just—” She stumbles. “It’s too good to last—you—you’re too good to be true and I—”

Steven continues watching her patiently, giving her space to express herself even as anxiety churns in his stomach.

“I’m so scared of losing you—I can’t lose you…” She finishes in a whisper.

He nods slowly. The first thing he does is move in and press a long kiss to her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her lips—the same way he always does, one of their little things.

When he retreats, he doesn’t move as far back, looking her right in the eyes as he tells her gently. “Y’know we’ve always felt the same way about you…” He smiles quietly, poking her playfully in the side to punctuate his words.

Emma scoffs lightly to avoid a sob as she rolls her eyes away shyly.

“It’s true, love—you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us—and I don’t know about you—but we don’t generally go ‘round tossing away things that ‘re that good, yeah? ‘s just nonsensical innit?”

She can help a soft laugh, wiping furiously at the tears that have started falling.

“’ey now—that’s my job, thank you…” He teases, gently pushing her hands out of the way so he can cradle both sides of her face, his thumbs moving under her eyes.

She shakes her head, her voice wobbling. “I don’t deserve this—I don’t deserve you…”

“Well now that’s just rubbish—and rubbish goes straight to the bin—we don’t have any time for that…"

At his response she simply can’t contain herself anymore, rushing forward to press her lips firmly to his.

He’s a little stunned at first, but quickly responds, his lips pulling firmly at hers. Likewise, she moves just as quickly to climb into his lap, to which he just as swiftly situates her against himself.

She laces her arms around his neck and bounces her lips off of his a few more times.

When she finishes, she leans her forehead against his, breathing more deeply than she had before all of this started.

Steven brushes his nose into hers when she settles, “Y’know—‘m a bit offended—‘ad a whole speech planned out an’ everything—I was ready to even spout poetry ‘f I had to…you’re making my job too easy…” He teases again, bouncing his own lips off of hers between his last couple words.

Emma can’t help the shy smile that comes over her lips as she tucks her face in his throat.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, is it?” He murmurs warmly, combing his fingers through her hair.

Emma nods against him, pressing a few timid kisses to his skin and pulling herself closer.

“Does that mean I get to keep you after all?” He whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She only nods again, settling further against him as her body unwinds from all the stress.

“Love you…” She tells him in a small voice.

“I love you too, angel…” He presses another kiss to her. “We’ll be alright…”

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ summary: } emma is feeling insecure and goes to marc about it. based on the song "phobia" by savannah sgro { 3 of 3 } { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x marc spector { mentions of } emma harper x steven grant && emma harper x jake lockley { contents: } fluffy angst, hurt/comfort, insecurity, happyish ending { warnings: } none really { author's note: } I got really stuck on this song that reminded me so much of how emma feels about the boys, and so I decided to do a trilogy of "oneshots" based around the lyrics where each moon boy got a different lyric from emma. this is marc's. { word count: } 611 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

She’d been pacing in front of him for at least five minutes—or was it ten—trying to resist the urge of becoming—what she perceives as—irrational.

She was being irrational.

He’d given her no reason to believe the things that were racing through her mind. No, those things stemmed from a long history—a history of being left behind.

Eventually, she inevitably got to be too much. Or people got bored with her. Or any other number of reasons why people just didn’t stick around.

She blames herself for it of course.

Meanwhile, Marc sits on the couch watching her wear out the floor with a troubled expression etched into his features.

She’d said they needed to talk when he’d gotten home from a round of Uber driving. She hadn’t said about what, but clearly it wasn’t anything good.

That had been a good fifteen minutes ago.

Marc wasn’t always the best with these things. Talking that is. And he didn’t want to pressure her to speak before she was ready to, so he’d sat here, anxiously waiting while she tried to find the words.

When she starts to look more worse for the wear he finally speaks up himself.

“Please talk to me, baby…” He urges softly.

She almost jumps out of her skin, having been so lost in thought she almost forgot he was sitting there.

Her face scrunches up in silent distress.

“I promise we’ll figure out whatever it is—together…” He continues, resisting the urge to reach for her.

“I’m—I’m terrified…” She confesses almost inaudibly.

Marc keeps his tone soft and even, “of what, baby?”

Her face crumples a little again, sucking in a sharp breath as she barely holds back tears. Her voice begins to tremble despite her best efforts to keep it strong.

“That one day, you’re gonna wake up and get sick of me—that—” She inhales sharply.

“That I won’t be what you need anymore…” She finishes with a choked sob, burying her face in her hands as she begins to quietly cry.

Marc is swift to rise from where he sits, closing the distance between them in seconds.

He gently pulls her hands from her face, just so that he can take it into his own as she shakes.

“That is never going to happen…” He states firmly, wiping the tears that stream slowly down her cheeks.

She refuses to open her eyes, shaking her head as she coughs.

“Look at me, baby…”

She cracks her eyes open, her brows pulled painfully together as she looks on him pleadingly.

“I’m never going to get sick of you, I’m never going to stop wanting you, and I’m never going to stop needing you…” He pauses. “Those things are non-negotiable.”

“You can’t be sure—”

“I can and I am.” He cuts her off.

At his words, she breaks down into more forceful sobs, just trying to remain upright.

Again, Marc is quick to move in to cradle her, holding her safely and firmly against himself.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby—we’re not going anywhere. I promise.” He reassures her.

“What if you change your mind?” She asks brokenly, clinging desperately to him.

“Not possible…” He says, a sense of awe in his tone, a soft smile of pride lacing through his words. “You’re the love of our lives.”

She inhales a quiet sniffle, hugging herself tighter to him, pressing a grateful kiss to his heart through his shirt.

He withdraws just enough to wipe more tears from her face, looking her over.

“Someday you’re just gonna have to believe that…okay?”

She nods quickly, sniffling again, her voice small. “Okay…”

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ summary: } emma's struggling with med changes, marc makes sure she knows she's not going through it alone. { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x marc spector && emma harper x steven grant { contents: } angst to fluffish, hurt/comfort, happyish ending { warnings: } severe mental illness { hallucinations, overwhelm, major depression, anxiety, instability } didn't super go into detail in the piece but it's kinda the main part of this one and the beginning is a bit dark. nothing else really I don't think? { author’s note/dedication: } for all my depressed babies out there who have ever struggled with medication/changes. I see you and I love you. so does emma and the best moon husbands a person with mental illness could ever ask for. { word count: } 617 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

She sits curled up in a ball against the headboard of their bed, quietly sniffing back her tears.

This was the second time this week that she’d felt this low. She wants to call them, but also doesn’t.

She’s tired of feeling like a burden. This whole thing was her fault anyway. She was the one who’d thought she hadn’t needed that one medication.

At first it had been fine, she’d even thought she felt better as it lowered in her system. But by the time it was almost completely out of it, things took a turn for the worse.

She’d had to email her doctor to ask about how quickly she could taper back up.

Still, that had been two weeks ago and she still wasn’t back to normal. Sometimes, she thought she was perhaps even worse.

She hears the front door open, the casual toss of keys into the basket.

The apartment is dark, having failed to get up for hours since the afternoon.

She wipes furiously at her face now, sniffling again in an attempt to conceal her distress as she hears him flip the light switch in the living room.

Marc gets back from a round of driving to a dark and seemingly empty apartment. But then, he knew she hadn’t any plans to go anywhere that day.

Worry pumps through his chest, fear in the pit of his stomach.

“Baby?” He calls out finally.

His ears pick up the smallest sniffing from their bedroom and he has to stop himself from rushing in there.

He knows it would only overwhelm her if she’s in as bad of shape as it seems.

As he rounds the corner of their door and turns on the light, his heart sinks.

He knew he shouldn’t have gone out. Especially not with how sick she’d been feeling.

This time he doesn’t stop himself from swiftly moving over and sitting beside her on the bed.

“Hey…” he says softly, reaching to smooth over her hair, his brows pinched together and a soft pout at his lips.

Emma immediately moves to climb into his lap, closing her body around his and likewise immediately beginning to cry all over again.

He does nothing to stop her, only shifting to cradle her against himself, tucking his chin over her.

“I’ve got you—it’s okay…”

Emma only sobs harder.

“It’s gonna be okay—I’m not gonna let anything happen to you…”

She coughs again, clinging to him even tighter.

“I know, baby, I know…we’ll get through this…it’s just gonna take some time…” He tells her, pressing a few firm kisses to her temple, combing his fingers through her hair.

“Just breathe with me…”

She nods quickly, doing her best to imitate his slower, more even breaths.

It takes a few minutes but gradually she stops crying.

She presses a couple grateful kisses of her own to his throat.

“I’m sorry…” she whispers into him.

That’s when Marc pulls back, cradling her face as he looks in her eyes.

“You have nothing to apologize for…”

“But—”

“Nothing.” He insists, looking between her eyes, his brows rising in the center.

He wipes gently at any lingering tears and then presses his lips softly to hers.

“Why don’t we take a hot shower? The cold alone isn’t helping anything. Okay?”

Emma nods quickly, “Okay…”

“Okay.” He pauses, giving her a look of mock irritation over having to share.

“And then maybe, maybe I’ll let Steven make you a cup of tea...”

‘Oi!’ Steven erupts in the headspace.

Emma gives a soft laugh, pressing her lips to his again.

This only further proves to Marc he’s not ready to give up control just yet.

“Maybe…”

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ summary: } watching the game together takes an unexpected turn. { pairing: } original character { emma harper } x marc spector { contents: } fluff, that's pretty much it, friends to lovers energy { warnings: } a little spicy but def not smut, some regression if you squint, but nothing too overt, it comes off mostly as shyness in this piece but it is part of their dynamic, so don't come for me if you don't like it { author's note: } the boys have been demanding more softness with their fiancé wife, so here's some with marc. can't decide if I want to consider this flufftober-- but maybe? { word count: } 837 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction { credits: } middle divider from @bernardsbendystraws

He’s been going on for what feels like forever, in reality, probably all of 3 minutes. While she’s been trying to get up the courage to just tell him how she feels.

She’s not even sure what he’s talking about anymore as she stares blankly at his lips. He hasn’t even noticed, he’s too busy watching the game—right, baseball—that’s what he’s been talking about.

She clears her throat, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Marc…” He continues talking over her. “Marc!”

He abruptly stops, his head snapping in her direction, not remembering her being that close. “What? What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice laced with panic.

She rolls her lips in, dimples coming out in full force as she looks down between them. Now that she’s gotten his attention she’s not sure what to do with it. Her heart hammers in her chest as she tries to find the words.

“Is it the game? I thought you liked baseball…”

She closes her eyes, pushing a heavy sigh through her nose. “I do—I love it—that’s not—”

She releases a noise of choked frustration, all at once she takes his jaw in her hands, rushing forward to press her lips to his.

He's completely caught off guard, his lips smashed beneath hers, frowning as she withdraws immediately stringing together apologies.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I—I shouldn’t have—”

He shakes his head slowly, finding it hard to place his own words. As she goes to remove her hands from his face, putting them up in a sort of surrender, it’s him that moves in again to reclaim her lips, hesitating a few times before finally catching them slowly with his, his own hands coming to cradle her face more gently.

As soon as she begins to respond, her lips moving in time with his, he leans into her further, his own attacking hers with more energy. She only reciprocates that energy causing a soft groan to leave him before he can stop it.

The sound sets off a tidal wave through her system, rippling out through her body. There’s a pivotal moment where she tries to decide her next move – to stop and apologize again, or to go for it. In the split second her mind works over this dilemma, she opts for the latter.

She shifts quickly, moving to swing a leg over his lap and coming to rest in it without once breaking away from his lips. Marc’s hands, in turn, drop to her thighs as she settles into his lap, his fingers surging up to spread out over them and grip them tightly.

A soft whine escapes her at the possessive feeling of his hands on her, too desperate for more to be embarrassed at this point. The sound, however, sends a shockwave of his own through Marc.

Emma’s grip comes up to smooth over his chest, traveling to his throat and anchoring the tips of her fingers at the edge of his jaw as if to steady herself. She continues the languid movements of her lips over his, deciding to take the plunge and slip her tongue out seeking entry from him.

He’s much quicker to acquiesce than she anticipates, and heat begins to pulse under her skin. It’s in that moment that she seems to come to her senses, withdrawing just enough to cause him to lean forward, chasing after her.

Her breath is labored against him, not opening her eyes, just trying to rein herself in.

Marc, on the other hand, opens his eyes heavily, his gaze roving over her features as he breathes her in. He reaches one hand up to comb his fingers through her hair as he marvels over what just happened.

He wants to ask her what it means for them, but some deeper fear of rejection holds him back. The last thing he wants right now is for her to tell him it was a mistake—that she just got too caught up in a moment. What he doesn’t realize is that she’s experiencing that same crippling fear.

He scowls as his fingers run through her hair once more, leaning in hesitantly to pull gently at her lips a few more times. To his surprise and amazement, she responds in kind, but much more timidly than before as if suddenly remembering that she doesn’t have the confidence she seemed to exude before when she first kissed him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks quietly.

She immediately shakes her head, ‘no,’ seemingly having lost her voice.

The sudden shyness from her causes him to ache in a way he didn’t know was possible. His fingers come through her hair again as she rolls her lips in, painfully bashful despite her previous actions. He presses a slow kiss to her forehead and she shifts to hide her face in his throat.

He summons a deep, silent breath, as his arms come to encase her protectively, murmuring against her, “Okay, baby, okay…”

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ 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 { 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: } 21 days into the angstember event and I'm starting at the beginning with the prompt from day 1. 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.

[thexsanctuaryx]

ʚ♡ɞ I’ll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

{ CHAPTER ELEVEN }

➳ 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.”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

KASJDFVISFKENAJRGFDSOI SOBBING! SCREAMING! THROWING UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! MARC ANSWER THE PHONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[thexsanctuaryx]

fen we're all bottom right in this chapter, you are SO right also the way I can just FEEL the "marc answer the phone!!" like YES, the TRUTH but we're doing it For the Plot fen, For the Plot honestly, your love of this fic keeps me going, it is such a gift, as are you in the opposite words of mushu, honor on you, honor on your cow

[thexsanctuaryx]

ʚ♡ɞ I’ll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

{ CHAPTER TEN }

➳ 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.

[thexsanctuaryx]

unfortunately, this is essentially how all mental hospitals are -- speaking from personal experience, having been in her shoes. they really aren't a very healing place, especially when you're in the condition that she is. she will get better, but it's more gonna be via the boys than the treatment facilities.

[thexsanctuaryx]

ʚ♡ɞ I’ll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

{ CHAPTER TEN }

➳ 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.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

MSJH[PKOAREJHSDGBIOJPOKFRMNDFIPVOSKL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO MY POOR LITTLE HEART!!!!!!!!!

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

[thexsanctuaryx]

ya know? 🤔🤔🤔🤔 I know that top right is Will, but that's basically how marc feels in this chapter too. not to, ya know, make things worse for your heart or anything. but I'm just saying.

[thexsanctuaryx]

ʚ♡ɞ I’ll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

{ CHAPTER EIGHT }

➳ 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 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. 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.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

KJEHPGAIOJWDSVHUPJAFWKLENDSHO JKEWFwe AWEFAWEF AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS SERIES SO MUCH AND THIS CHAPTER!!!!! MY HEART!!!!!!! EMMA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JABGFHIJEOWHAUEJDH!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN FEEL MARC AND STEVEN'S PAIN, THEY WANT TO HELP SO BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[thexsanctuaryx]

FEN YOU ARE MY WHOLE HEART AND I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT -sobs profusely- I am SO HONORED that you love this series so much, truly, it's one of my favorite things I've ever written and I am SO grateful that you are loving it so much and for all your support as I've written it, here and behind the scenes. and honestly, that you can feel their pain, like YES, what a wonderful compliment you are simply The Best

[thexsanctuaryx]

ʚ♡ɞ I'll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

{ CHAPTER EIGHT }

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: 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: 1,291 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.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

MDOWJCKEOFJLWMF MY EMOTIONS? MY POOR LITTLE EMOTIONS? MY POOR LITTLE HEART? I AM ON THE FLOOR!!! KWKFIOWICOD!!!

[thexsanctuaryx]

LISTEN WE CHERISH THAT POOR LITTLE HEART WE JUST WANT TO FILL IT WITH LOVE -clears throat- not my babies just gradually healing each other more and more 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[thexsanctuaryx]

ʚ♡ɞ I'll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

{ CHAPTER SEVEN }

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: 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: 1,155 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.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

KZSJRDGHFB[IAJWKFGRBDSFPO K I AM SOBBING! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[thexsanctuaryx]

-sobs- THANK YOU! I am SO grateful for that love! it means the world to me and to them it is you, after all, that coined the name "Themma" for them. so I am so happy that you love them so