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♡ 𝑔et well soon chapter 3:

mary kline x fem reader

chapter 1: 2.3k words

chapter 2: 2.6k words

chapter 3: 5.7k words

━━╋━

you found something. it depends on you whether things go good or bad.

all chapters can be found on ao3 (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

The strong sunlight from the curtain you forgot to close shot through the window, eyes peeling open. You yawned sharply and rubbed your eyes as last night’s events coursed back through your mind. You attempted to lift yourself up just as your frail bones from a rough slumber abruptly stopped you. Your dizzy head hit the hard couch cushion, making you groan in utter frustration.

You can barely see the door to your bedroom from the couch, but all you could do was sigh. You were unsure if she was awake, but at this point, you were unsure of everything. In your mouth was still the bitter taste of smoke, almost taunting you. You just hoped and prayed that the morning would play out fine.

You stepped as quiet as possible to the guest bathroom to prepare yourself for the morning that would either go awful or excellent. All of your main hygiene items were in your other bathroom that you presently couldn't access, but thankfully you had alternatives. You freshened up as quick as possible before stepping back out to a silent living room, trying to think of ways to start the future conversation between you and your therapist.

Those fast-paced thoughts took over your mind, and you tried to ground yourself immediately.

“Everything will happen how it’s supposed to.” You thought to yourself.

You were unable to change and on your body were the same large t-shirt and tiny shorts from last night. To distract yourself, you began making coffee in hopes that Mary would take a little longer to wake up.

You moved around your kitchen in speed, a hundred notions distracting you from every direction. The moment your door opened, you froze, nails carving into the island as footsteps trailed down the hallway. Mary walked into the living room, hair slightly tousled and eyes still low from her sleep. Before letting you speak, she stops, worry and guilt portrayed on her face.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized.

The two of you never broke eye contact as you responded, “I’m sorry too. It was my fault.”

“No, it was mine. I shouldn't have smoked if I knew you'd have to take me home last night.” She replied. It was hard to hide the disappointment on your face at her sentence because the truth was that you started to gain a romantic attraction to your new therapist. It was dismaying watching her last night knowing that she’d never let herself fall for her patient. Especially someone with feelings so profound and hard to comprehend.

“Taking it slow” has never been a thing with you. You're used to rushed relationships where it all goes to shit anyway, but this felt different. The age gap between you two didn't matter. If anything, it slightly turned you on. The thought of being taken care of by Mary captivated you further into her, making you want to take the risk. But it was wrong.

“It's okay though, we make mistakes. And that was a one time thing.” Mary added on in a confident, yet professional manner. You paused, taking in the view of your therapist before insincerely nodding. You knew it was wrong. Both of you did. And something about Mary Kline drew you in like nobody else could ever achieve. But that deep yearning within you needed it to be right.

“I apologize for that again, Y/N. I’m gonna gather my stuff and head home. Thank you for having me over and keeping me safe though,” Mary said, her polished tone almost driving you insane.

“Sure. You don't have your car though,” You reminded her, somewhat hoping that she already knew.

She blinked, regaining her memory. “Yeah, yeah, uh.. you wouldn't mind, right?” She asked, a more timid effect in her words. She knew that the moment she got home she would shrivel up in her bedsheets, maybe scream into her pillow, and probably lay and soak up all of her embarrassment.

“Never. Do you want coffee?” You flashed a light smile at her, trying to keep your gracious demeanor visible so that you could mask the unbearable twinge in your stomach at every word of hers. It was odd to think that Dr. Kline had your emotions in such a strong whirlwind after not even knowing each other that much.

You watched as she eventually read the energy in your offer and she started to ease down. “Yes, please.” You asked for her coffee adjustments before turning on the machine. The sound of the grinding filled the room between the two of you.

“Did you get a good sleep?” Mary finally asks. “I felt terribly guilty for taking your bed.”

“It's okay. You don't need to apologize.” You reassured her. “I didn't sleep the best, but I don't have work today. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m glad you don't have work. I don't either.” She sighed, taking slow steps closer to you, grazing the kitchen island subtly. Automatically, you turned your body around and began lingering your hands around the sink to give the illusion of keeping yourself busy. She knew exactly what you were doing but wasn't planning on saying something.

Out of your sight, she observed the magnetic calendar on your fridge. The first thing that caught her eye was a note written in purple ink, “Visit a furniture store tomorrow”. She felt like she could finally recommend it, a store of her client’s that hasn't been getting recognition.

“Furniture store..?” Mary muttered to herself, making you finally look over.

“Ah, yeah. I don't have guests over often, but last night made me realize that my decorations are plain. But I’ll probably find somewhere before our appointment tomorrow.” You said.

“Right, our appointment tomorrow.. ” Mary’s schedule was scattered. On Wednesday, you scheduled another appointment and chose the fastest way she had. You weren’t sure why you did it. The session was on Saturday, which was one of the days you were off. Your job had given you Friday and Saturday off rather than the normal weekend only because Sunday was constantly busy. So, you took your chance. “How come you’re not going today?”

Her comment made you take it into consideration. You had it set on the calendar for today, but it wouldn't hurt to set it off until the next day. It was more of a want than a need anyway.

“Just don't feel like it.” You finished up the brewing of her coffee before handing it to her, a soft “thanks” murmured to you. The way your fingers brushed set your heart ablaze, and the crave for her touch only heightened. “You sure you don't want to relax before I take you home? There's no rush, Mary.” You watched as she sipped from the mug, the way it settled in her throat. Resisting from the want of pulling her in and letting her trace every inch of you was the hardest step for you.

“If you’re fine with it.” It was almost irritating the way she worried for your approval as if you would say no.

“Of course I do.” You blurted, sounding a bit too cordial than intended. You avoided eye contact, but you could sense the moment she steadied her dark-sienna eyes on you. All she returned was a smile, making you feel a little bit foolish.

“Oh, right. That's what I forgot. One of my patients has a furniture store. He’s been struggling with customers, so if you don't have any ideas on where to go, I think it’d be nice to pay his store a visit.” Mary proposed, her eyes lighting up at her own suggestion.

“Sure I will. What's it called?” You asked.

“Hm.. something about a pirate. Ottoman Empire is all I remember as of now. He’s been forgetting to tell me more about it.”

The store you’d always pass by would catch your attention sometimes, though you never had a purpose to step foot in there. Cap’n Clark’s, Ottoman Empire. You had barely realized that it was a furniture store, only because you would take short glances at the name while driving instead of fuller inspections.

“I’m familiar with it. His name is Clark?” You queried.

“Yes, it is. Are you familiar with the location, too?” Mary said.

“Yup. Thanks for the suggestion. I’m only realizing today that it's a furniture store, so I’ll make sure to go.”

“Great,” She stated, leaning back against the wall taking sips at her cup. You grabbed the nearest pen and walked to your fridge to write down the name as a reminder. Mary tracked your movements carefully.

In a desperation of changing the scene, you offered her a seat with you on your front porch. The oak trees of your yard shaded the sidewalk and the mist from the hot sun glided through the air. Your neighborhood was peaceful and welcoming, and though your neighbors were friendly, you never bothered to speak to them. Isolation was your preference.

You gave it a moment before starting a conversation. Surprisingly, the flow of your words began to adjust back to the comfort of last night’s talk. The two of you found each other finishing the other’s sentences, laughing at stupid jokes and making touchy gestures here and there.

Eventually, her face dropped and she spaced out as if she were lost in questions to ask you. You interrupted her thoughts.

“Ready to head home? I can take you whenever.” You pushed the idea out in a hospitable manner, and she nodded.

You led her back inside with you and she headed back to your room to get her belongings. The moment she left your sight you wanted to jump around in excitement. The nervousness of getting to see her constantly from more scheduled appointments entered your stomach, making your limbs feel flimsy. Instead of getting yourself jittery, you just picked up your keys and waited at the door for Mary to appear. When the door opened, you tilted your head, attempting to cover your expression with your hair. It failed.

“What’s wrong?” Mary asked in a concerned voice, about to break into a little smile. It was hard to hide it.

“I’m fine. Just remembered something.” You tried to play it off before turning your body and opening the front door. To your left was the porch, and you stared at the seat that Mary sat on and you could almost paint the picture of you two laughing together. Your heartbeat jumped as she placed her hand on your shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” She asked again, genuinely curious at your strange motions and jerks. You let out a sigh that almost sounded like a laugh. Mary was completely oblivious and you hoped that it’d remain that way.

“Yes, I’m ok, I’m ok. Don’t worry.” With that confirmation, you both began making your way to your car.

You drove a dark-red ‘89 Camry that was gifted to you from your family. It had been your grandfather’s and you were the chosen one to keep it because you were seen as the most responsible out of the rest of your siblings. You always kept it in good condition so that it could look as good as new. The tallest tree in your front yard gave your car shade so that you made sure the leather seats of your vehicle never heated up too much. You waited a while for the engine to cool down and in the meantime, you searched the radio for a calm song to break the silence. Mary gave you the directions as you turned the wheel. You forced yourself to keep your eyes on the road and not steal glances at Mary, and it was the most difficult thing on Earth. She told you that the estimated time was about 10 minutes while driving, which made you realize how much she walked the night before. 20 minutes wasn’t the longest, but it always feels ten-times more extended in the middle of the night.

What was she thinking?

Maybe she just needed to clear her mind.

Yeah, ‘cause the best time to leave the house is at 2:30 in the morning.

She can protect herself.

Your overwhelming mind made you roll the window down for fresh air. You were wasting the drive with her by overthinking.

“It smells nice in here,” she started. “strong lavender.” She said, reading out the name of your freshener.

“Thank you. I’m guessing you're a fan of lavender too.” You added.

“Sometimes.” She spoke. That marked the last conversation of your day with her. “Right here.” She said. You felt a knot in your stomach but also felt the pounding of your head ease.

Her house was a light shade of blue with little decorations on the exterior. You could recognize specific flowers that were growing in her walkway garden. What caught your eye was a cherry blossom wreath that brightened the image of her front door. You couldn’t help but wonder how it looked inside.

“Thank you once again, darling. I’ll see you soon.” She placed her hand right on top of yours, giving your palm a squeeze as she opened the door.

The nickname struck you like lightning. Darling. “Of course, anytime.” You smiled at her. The minute she shut the car door, you drove off so that you wouldn’t stay stuck in place observing her home any longer.

As soon as you made it out of her view, you pulled over to the side of a random neighborhood, slamming your eyes shut and holding your head in your hands. You lowered down the nagging podcast in your ears and then you finally latched your hands tight on the wheel, preparing yourself for the rest of the day. After all, it barely started.

Saturday morning already made you stressed. You disagreed with your boss over the phone to take a random employee’s shift on your day of freedom when your shifts were longer than the others. The extra money would help, but you were stable. At one point, you hung up on him, cutting him off mid-sentence. Therapy had been set for 12:30 today, two hours later than your first session. It gave you more time to run errands, grab coffee and even relax. You felt uncomfortable being wide awake at 8AM, but you gave it a chance.

Before heading to the furniture store named on the paper attached to your fridge, you were able to exercise, treat yourself to a cold drink, and bathe yourself. You wanted to portray yourself as casual to Mary’s other client, so you wore a black v-neck shirt along with light grey denims. You picked black platform loafers to match your top. You didn’t mind a mixture of silver and gold jewelry, it complimented your skin tone rather than just one color.

You felt rather excited about meeting this man. It was possible that you could unravel more about your therapist and that he can find you charming pieces of furniture too. But the image of Clark in your head was a mystery. Was he cheerful, or was he just an asshole? The answer would come to you once you arrived there. Once you finished dressing up, you paused your ongoing house appliances and headed out.

The parking lot was empty and you were able to get the closest parking spot. The location was more quiet than you remembered, but not much was thought of it. Something in your gut was telling you not to go inside, to refuse, to just leave. Once you reached the door, you became very ignorant of that.

You expected to be greeted by a man, but the store was empty. It was dead silent, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. One of the main beds on display had a nightstand with photos on it and a television with the wire cut. It didn’t take long to realize that its owner had been staying there. Your first idea was to call Mary, let her know that the store was open with no staff in sight. The phone rang, and the clock on the wall marked exactly an hour before therapy. You weren’t sure if she had a meeting at that time, but if so, you were just planning to leave a voicemail. Surprisingly, she picked up. Your body went still as she spoke.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Y/N. I’m sorry to bother. I just wanted to tell you about the furniture store you recommended.” You stuttered.

“It’s alright. Go on.”

“I did think that I was gonna see your patient, Clark. But his store is open and I don’t see him anywhere. I’m just letting you know so that you can tell him.”

You can almost see Mary’s face from behind the phone. “Hm. Funny. His appointment is right now, but he’s not here. He’s never missed one.”

It made more sense on why she picked up. “Right.. I’ll keep checking and I’ll call you just in case.”

“I’d like that. You’re still coming today, right?” She asked.

“Of course.” You walked around the store observing the smaller decorations he had with the phone to your ear at the same time.

“Great. I’ll see you. Be careful, Y/N.”

“I will. See you.” You hung up as a simple, yet elegant windchime caught your attention. You traced the metal pattern on your hand, observing the texture and color. To your right was another floor downstairs with an arrow pointing down that read, “more down stairs”. Out of curiosity, you slowly make your way down the stairs. Perhaps Clark was down in the basement and simply couldn’t hear any customers. The flickering light frightened you, but you didn’t want to leave it unsearched.

The light didn’t stop flickering until you were more than halfway down, but it didn’t stay on. It turned off, only leaving a dim exposed lightbulb that brightened the room. The wall had blue tape that formed a rectangular shape, almost like some sort of entryway. You observed a whiteboard that had a map illustrated properly on the wall. It showed a figure (most likely identifying as Clark) staring at a wall as if it were nothingness, and the ending of it left you questioning how it finished. Clark had to be the one building this map, making this research like a mad scientist. The only thing you could hear at this moment was your own footsteps and heartbeat. For a few minutes, all you did was discover new facts of a weird, unsettling place through the notes left by him.

There were pages scattered across the floor, just sitting there like somebody left in a rush without picking them up. A paper you saw had another sketch of hallways with arrows leading nowhere. You continued rummaging through the papers until you came across a more detailed sketch. One that looks like it had been taken seriously this time. It showed the same furniture of the room you were in, the same staircase, the same exact placement of ceiling lights. Only the other paper taped to it showed a huge, yellow office room with random furnishings settled in unusual spots of the room. The edge of the paper had 3 dots with a question mark to give an explanation that it only continued on and on.

You slowly looked up, and for a long time your eyes were glued to the blue tape. How would that be possible? A million thoughts rushed through your skull like dopamine, and you slowly walked closer to the wall with a smirk. You clenched your fist and held it out, but you froze the moment you were inches apart from it. If it were real, where would you begin to describe the things you discovered to your family? Where would you begin to describe it all to Mary? There’s no way it’s possible.

You found yourself panting a little harder than usual and you weren’t sure why. It’s not like you were stuck there, you could walk out and leave whenever you wanted to.

Yet, you desperately wanted to see what stood behind that wall.

You pushed your fist forward, expecting a rough, solid return from the material. Instead, the entire half of your arm sunk into the unfamiliar place ahead. You let out a gasp that was louder than you intended as you swung your arm back through, laughing a bit from shock. You pinched your own arm, but you were wide awake. You stopped for a minute to calm and prepare yourself. What’s back there could hurt or help you. At the moment, it didn’t matter.

Step by step, bone by bone. You stuck your left hand through, then your right hand. You stepped closer, slowly entering the tip of your shoe. But something else rushed you, something rather than the control of your own body pushed you forward. Hard. For that split second of falling through, your body felt weightless and cold, like plastic. It seemed as if the world lurched, and all you could feel was the pressure of your joints tightening as you hit the floor face first, landing on your palms. A brighter view bled through to your eyelids now.

And here you were, sluggishly moving on the damp carpet of a yellowed lobby-like room. The sting on your hands that scraped the carpet made you open your eyes. It had successfully lured you in completely. There was an uncomfortable hum of the fluorescent lights that made your pulse accelerate.

“This isn't real, this can't be real.” You reminded yourself. You stood up, struggling to keep your balance. Instead of losing your composure, you braced yourself and proceeded forward through the room. It smelt of dust and strong moisture. The wallpaper had vague stains all over. By now, this extraordinary place had wiped out your head, and it seemed like therapy hadn't even crossed your mind.

There were paths with wires on the floor that led to nothing. There were markings with black ink along the walls in unclear messages and symbols. It felt more like an illusion than an actual experience. Somehow, you felt the tension of being watched from every angle.

To top it off, you hadn't thought to bring a phone or a camera with you. And for some horrid reason, you knew you weren't alone. The presence of someone or something else walked through these hallways and rooms, but you couldn't perceive exactly what it was. Something you found odd was that every corner that you turned looked the same, but the moment you began searching deeper, the rooms started to shift. There were chairs descending into the ground, almost melting — it bypassed physics completely, and there was no way that you could explain how.

After finally getting your own view, you finally understood the repetitiveness of Clark’s analyses and the confusion. You snapped out of it before you realized it was time to head back. You kept a memory of your tracks so that you wouldn’t get lost. It irked you greatly not knowing what crept in the unknown, but you knew to not keep exploring without the company of another.

You were walking back rapidly, more mindful of the time. You were sure that you were already late to this appointment of yours, but informing another human of what you were seeing was all that you needed to back yourself up. Luckily, Mary felt like the right person to tell this to, the only person. She was the only person who was aware of Clark’s confidential information, and maybe this could help her help you (and your discovery.) Your thoughts tuned out all of the electronic machinery that kept the place lit. However, a startling noise started to build up and slowly dissolved your deep state of focus. The sound of heavy footsteps traveled east of you, and now you could feel panic bloom inside of you. Your breath trembled and you booked it as fast as you were able to. You felt the automatic urge in your body to stumble and slow down, but the increasing adrenaline in your veins didn’t allow you to stop.

Your blurry vision could’ve been deceiving you, but it’s almost as if the walls shifted with time. Nothing was adding up — the way back that you memorized took the look of a different wallpaper, distorted magazines discarded across the floor, and newer pillars that obstructed your run of fright. Fortunately, the heap of furnishings welcomed you back to the portal. Anxiety pierced into you as you apprehensively grasped at the walls trying to return to reality. In the blink of an eye, your body almost flung onto the rough carpet ahead of you.

You’ve never been more thankful to be back in the furniture store. You grabbed your keys and cell phone as you ran up the stairs and out of the main doors. By this time, you were already 20 minutes late to your session. You turned on your car, but you didn’t have the patience to wait for the vehicle to start up. You pressed on the gas and sped to the clinic, thoughtlessly running red lights.

The second you parked and locked your car, you hustled inside, immediately getting the receptionist’s attention.

“Hello,” the lady gently calls. “Who are you here to see today?”

“Oh, hi. I’m here for Dr. Kline.” You stated, eyes wide and irises unstable. Right now, all you needed to do was speak and speak for hours about your experience, theories, and wonders. The woman on the desk stared at you concerningly, before grumbling,

“20 minutes late.” She rested her fist on her chin and did a final tap on her mouse.

“Forgive me, I know. Please, just call Mary.” You apologized.

“Dr. Kline.” She corrected. You rolled your eyes when she looked away. “She should be coming soon.” You nodded instead of thanking her. You stood waiting, holding your bag until your knuckles turned white. You didn’t even notice how much you were shaking until you almost lost the grip of your phone in the other hand. The door opened and you couldn’t even look up until your name was said.

That same mellow voice that had been consuming you called out, and you felt every worry rush away. Your eyes met Mary, and the two of you observed each other for a split second. Your mouth and lips were dry, your face was glistening from sweat, and your hair was a bit disheveled from your continuous sprint.

However, Mary resembled pure beauty. Her hair flowed with minimized curls at the ends, and the light of the office added dimension to the strands. It framed her face, and you tried to ignore her worried expression as she watched your unsteady breaths. You tried to discreetly trace her outfit today, but she took slow steps towards you, and eventually settled her arm on yours. She delicately caressed your bare arm, yet didn’t say a word. You both walked right next to each other, and she never took her sight off of you.

Once you reached her room, she closed the curtains halfway, letting the sun barely beam through. She sat down and slowly adjusted herself, but your body was too jittery to sit.

“Y/N?” Mary interrogated. You paced small steps back and forth in her room, and you could feel her eyes track your movement. Everything dawned on you simultaneously and it visibly overwhelmed you. “Y/N.” She repeated, finally drawing your focus back to her.

“Yes. Sorry.” You uttered.

“What happened to you?” She asked. You stopped walking and stared at her. The question deactivated something in your brain, and now you felt the will to gush.

“I found something I didn’t want to find. It wasn’t my place, it wasn’t my business.”

“..Okay.” Mary tilted her head. “What did you find?”

You struggled trying to find the right words to describe it. “I found, uh, I found a place. And, th- the thing is, nothing makes sense. At all.”

“To not lose track here, start from after you called me. What happened the moment you hung up?” She held a clipboard, waiting for more of your sayings.

You gave it a few thoughts. “I walked downstairs. In the store. And then, I..” You tried to tell the smallest details. “I saw stuff that he had. Papers, research, weird random shit. A stop sign with mirrored text. And on the wall, there was tape. Blue tape that shaped out a door. On the wall!” Mary’s fingers darted with the pen in hand.

She nodded at your description of it, but she quickly interrupted.

“Have you smoked today at all?”

You pursed your lips. How could she not believe you? “No, not at all,” you shrugged, “the last time was with you.” The reminder caused Mary to look down in embarrassment until you continued. “But that’s why he didn’t come to you today. He’s in there, and he’s not alone.”

“What do you mean by ‘there’?” She asked, crossing her legs. You froze, trying to find the right words.

“So.. back to what I said. The blue tape. You can walk through it.”

Mary raised her brows. “Like.. a curtain?”

You shook your head and gestured with your hands about how it felt to walk in.

“No, nothing like that.. The wall lets you walk through it. Phase through. You know what quantum tunneling is?”

She nodded, and squinted her eyes uncertainly. “Yes. But how..”

“I don’t know.” You continued rambling on about the things you saw and heard. She listened attentively and asked smaller questions in between. Mary stood up to grab something from the drawers of her desk, whispering a hushed “excuse me”. But the moment she looked back at you, you were up again, pacing as if you’d been doing that the whole time. Your words stopped as you now inspected her for the first time today. She wore a red button-up shirt on her torso that scarcely revealed her collarbones, and on the bottom were black wide-leg trousers. Wrapping carefully around her waist was a brown belt, and a pearled necklace with a heart locket charm looped around her neck. You looked down as fast as you could while your face started to heat up, then you continued talking.

“...I don’t normally see shit like that. And I know you might think I’m crazy or something, but I was there. I’m sober and everything.” Your eyes were locked on the floor and you waited for her to return to her seat before also sitting yourself down. Your elbows rested on your knees while your hands cupped your cheeks. Mary could see how much it troubled you and she desperately wanted to reach the roots of it.

“Tell me how you felt. What feelings were you having while.. exploring that place?” Her voice clearly sounded skeptical.

“I was hesitant to walk further in. And I felt anxious once I heard that sound. I also felt a bit ill ‘cause it was sweltering hot in there. There’s no windows. It’s like some sort of trap.”

She nodded, noticing how you fidgeted nonstop with the ring on your finger. “..Now, Y/N. I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but-”

You shook your head, pleading. “Mary, please. I need you to believe me right now. I don’t know who else to tell. And Clark is your client.”

“I know. I’m just.. failing to understand it all.”

“I am too!” You breathed out something that almost sounded like a laugh. “If you don’t want to listen, I can just leave now.” There were a few minutes left of your You weren’t angry, just shook. But she wasn’t quite aware.

“Stay. I love listening to you,” She said, voice low. You inhaled and you couldn’t help but smile at the realization on her face of what she said.

“Gee, I guess I will.” This time you laughed as Mary caught herself. “What are you gonna do about it though?”

She sighed. “I was going to attempt to contact Clark, see if I get a response before 24 hours have passed. If not, I can review his records and file a report of him missing.” You can hear the distress in her voice. She was trying to ignore the fact that her client had vanished and left all that he had unsupervised. She also tried to ignore the chance that he was lost in some huge, uncanny complex.

You frowned at her sentence. “I hope you get a sign of him. If not, send a team of people to search his store and nearby. Anyone but you.”

“I will.” She gulped.

“And if you still can’t find him,” You almost fully quit that sentence, but it needed to be heard. “He’ll be in there. Remember it’s not your fault.” She was silent. “Mary.” Her name brought her back from her disconnection.

“Yes, yes. We’ll find him.” She looked up at you as you were about to head out to leave. Time was up. You had 40 minutes to speak, and it flew by. The rapid flutter of Mary’s eyelashes and the clenching of her jaw lured you closer, making you not want to leave. Aside from everything else, today allowed you to partly see a more vulnerable side of her once again. See the guilt on her expression at her own mention of filing a report. This definitely wasn’t the first time she’s had to do this.

“Thank you a lot for today. Also, please update me if anything happens.” You muttered.

“Of course, Y/N.. I’ll see you.” The mental blank was more heavy now. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

Her hands were shaking, and the second before you leave, you spot exactly what she grabbed earlier from her desk. A bottle of pills. You stepped out and forwarded on before you pushed it any further.

And in the room of the door you had just exited was a now paranoid, defenseless woman. A woman who drove herself into intense regret of not being able to give everyone the assistance they needed.

She couldn’t help people, nor could she even help herself, so why did she keep trying?

div creds: kthice ^_^

#mary kline #backrooms movie #fem reader #renate reinsve #backrooms #yuri #mutual pining #mary lowkey depressed #reader is losing her marbles #ao3 #fanfiction #slow burn

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