emerson-shmitt:

All the things Mason had said mixed with when he wrapped his arms around Emerson’s waist made Emerson melt into complete goo. Nothing else mattered except Mason and Mason only and Emerson couldn’t think of any way he’d rather want all this. The whole ordeal this afternoon probably didn’t need to happen or it could have been avoided but Emerson figured it was probably better that they got it out of the system. Now it was almost…refreshing? That wall that had been between them moments ago was now gone and Emerson didn’t need to worry about it anymore. Everything Mason said made him feel wonderful. His words made him feel better. So much better. He could feel that horrifying gloom that had been over his head dissipate at the soft touch from Mason, the kisses. He sighed and shut his eyes, sniffled and smiled so, so softly.

“I love you too,” he whispered. With Mason’s hands on his cheeks Emerson felt an urge to kiss him, one that couldn’t be ignored. So he kept his arms around Mason’s neck and leaned in, feeling in slight brush of their lips. It was so soft, nearly the ghost of a kiss, and Emerson found that not to be satisfying. He had to feel Mason’s against his in a heated passion because honestly Mason’s words were far too wonderful and how could Emerson compete with them? He couldn’t conjure up something that beautiful even if he wanted to. The majority of his words were going to be in his kiss, Emerson would be sure. It would give him time to clear his head, to focus in on his feelings for Mason, every single last feeling.

So when Emerson finally tilted his head and eagerly collapsed his lips on top of Mason’s, he released a sigh. A huge, ginormous, sigh of relief. Mason was his, always would be. Something like this would never split them up. He could never lose Mason. He would never lose him to his thoughts or another person or anything. Mason was his and with the deep way he was kissing him, he only prayed Mason understood. The kiss wasn’t meant to be sloppy. It wasn’t meant to tease them into a bed. It was filled with love and passion and adoration. Emerson slid his hands to Mason’s cheeks and pressed his tongue in, seeking the familiar territory he claimed as his. Mason’s teeth were so smooth, so straight and his tongue so soft. Emerson could memorize every last inch of this mouth and still enjoy it.

Emerson tangled his fingers in the back of Mason’s hair, poured every last ounce of his love into this kiss. Mason was his love, his life, his afterlife, his everything and damn him if he would never be able to make Mason believe that. With one last caress to Mason’s tongue, Emerson pulled away and broke the kiss. He needed to work with words now. He needed to make Mason see even if it’d take all day, night, eternity.

“You’re so beautiful. You’re so good with words. How come your so good with words? It’s not fair, Mason. I love you just as much as you love me and so help me God if I don’t know how to tell you that with words. I wish on a star every night that I can keep you even if I can’t always express how much I love you. You know your way with words makes me feel so special and so loved and so wanted and needed. I guess I can get where you’re coming from with the whole dead thing. I honestly don’t how I got over it with you so quickly. But dead or alive, angry or happy, I’m always loving you. Never doubt that. My goal, when I first met you and saw that you were happy-even in this place-was to make sure you were always happy. I intend on keeping that goal, Mason.

How can we manage to be so different and still get along so well and love each other like this? I was meant to come here and find you. I was meant to have the bad stuff happen just so I could get to you. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t find you, honestly. I’d still be rambunctious but I don’t think I’d feel as whole. I complete you and you complete me and that’s the way it always will be. I can’t fathom how incredible this is. You own my soul, you know? You have my heart in your hands and you own my soul, Mason Fisher.” What else could he say? He wasn’t angry at Mason anymore, he wasn’t scared and he wasn’t upset. Mason needed to get that out in the open and he needed to be soothed. Emerson could only hope that he did just that.

“I honestly…I don’t know what to say anymore except that ‘I love you to the moon and back’ isn’t near enough. I love you a thousands times times infinity. That’s never changing. But..” he smiled softly and brushed his thumb across Mason’s cheek; his love, his adorable, beautiful Mason. “Next time you corner yourself into that mind I call a maze…talk to me before making any rash decisions, yeah? You nearly knocked my existence off the face of the earth. I’d hate to lose you right after I got my eternity license. I love you and you love me and that’s all I need, all I want, everything.”

Emerson knew they wouldn’t hit any bumps in the road for a while after that. It would be clear skies for a good century. He’d make it stay like that, too. Looking into Mason’s brown eyes, he smiled. Because those brown eyes let him see into the Mason he loved and admired. They were so warm and so happy now and the only thing Emerson needed was to see those lips turn into a smile. That would make him so much better. “You know why I’d never let you go to the end of the universe for me?” Leaning forward, Emerson pressed their lips together lightly before whispered, “Cause then we’d be apart. And I can’t bear that.” He and Mason were very close, all wrapped around each other and Emerson was so lost in the moment that he didn’t even see the girl who always collected the thorns off the rose bushes staring at them.

“There’s so much beauty in a storm,” he heard her whisper. What did that mean? he didn’t honestly care. Perhaps it was the amount of love that they shared even after that argument. Whatever it was, Emerson was only going to focus on Mason. His eyes started a small sparkle as he continued to cup Mason’s cheek and smile. “Je t’aime,” he murmured, their little phrase.

Despite all the tears, Mason could have broken down and sobbed with relief. They were okay. Everything was finally going to be okay. He could believe it this time too. Emerson had forgiven him. Emerson still loved him, despite everything that had happened. And…in a way this was good. Mason was used to looking on the bright side, and he was desperately thankful that he hadn’t lost that talent. They didn’t have to fight anymore. Mason wanted nothing more than to be with Emerson and never let him go. He hoped (and knew) that that urge wouldn’t fade anytime soon. He loved Emerson. Emerson loved him. Everything was perfect.

The wall was gone. The invisible barrier keeping them apart had come crashing down. Was that all it took? Maybe not the healthiest outlet, but Mason knew that he couldn’t have given in any other way. He was too stubborn, too full of whatever fucking idiocy had driven him to this in the first place. But he felt so much better. Stronger. Emerson was there for him, and always would be. So what if they were dead? What they had was far more powerful than anything else in the world. Something that the living couldn’t achieve. Because they would literally spend an eternity together. Nothing could rip them apart. Nothing. They were meant to be. What was is they had mentioned? Soulmates. Somehow, it didn’t seem quite enough to describe how Mason felt about Emerson. Emerson was his rock, his saviour, his everything.

“I could go on forever about how much I love you,” he murmured, kissing Emerson again. “I could fill all the books in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough. You give me reason to exist. You are the reason I exist. And you saved me from an eternity of loneliness.” He smiled a little, rubbing a quick hand over his eyes. No more crying. Not for a long time. “I was blind, but now I see. We belong together. I’ll be yours forever.” It was true, too. Emerson was the only thing that mattered. He loved him more than anything.

It wasn’t enough. He could spend eternity with Emerson and it would never be enough. “I’d never leave you. Being apart hurts too much.” They had tried it. It (clearly) hadn’t worked. Mason couldn’t function without Emerson. He hated how lonely he felt without him. He was completely, hopelessly codependent, and he did not give a single fuck about it. Emerson was his, and nothing could get in the way of that. Not Sam, or death, or anything. They belonged together, and it felt so right.

The voice startled him, and Mason looked over. Blinked. He didn’t recognize the girl, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that he had Emerson. Nothing else mattered. The whole place could burn to the ground and he wouldn’t care so long as Emerson was by his side. “I love you so much,” he murmured. “Je t’aime. Te amo.” However many times he said it wouldn’t change the meaning. It was the perfect phrase. Emerson. His love. His life. Perfection.

Why had he been so stupid? Mason didn’t want to get into it. Emerson didn’t care. But…Mason did. He had to at least figure himself out. If he couldn’t, what was the point? Why did his life have meaning, if he only existed to fuck it up? His confidence melted then, and Mason pulled back. “I’m tired,” he murmured. The stress was exhausting, and he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and not wake up for a very long time. Maybe he’d at least really wake up, then. He could figure out what on earth had motivated him to be such an idiot in the first place.

Sam might have gotten mad at him. Mason might have made a few enemies where he should have had friends. Sometimes he said the wrong thing. But make no mistake, nobody could hate Mason as much as he hated himself. It was scary sometimes, how he felt. How much he simply wanted to give up. Of course he had Emerson. Of course he could be happy forever. But that wouldn’t change the fact that he had done those stupid things in the first place. Oh, if he could he would have gone back. He would have changed everything. Made himself smarter. Less prone to overreaction.

Emerson couldn’t know. Couldn’t know how Mason felt. He wouldn’t be responsible for tearing him apart again. So this…it would have to be secret. Silent. Mason could try and figure himself out on his own. Emerson couldn’t interfere. Besides, he did like wandering. Emerson spent enough time away. Maybe Mason could get some thinking done. He could try to understand why he was so fucked up. Why he liked hurting the people he loved. Of course it was messy, and terrible, and a thousand other ugly words. But it wouldn’t change the truth. He got some sort of sick, perverse joy out of seeing people suffer.

Maybe it was because he had gone through so much. Because he was so stubborn. Sure, they were happy now, but Mason knew he didn’t deserve that. He deserved something worse, much worse. Emerson needed someone who wouldn’t break him again. But that was enough of that. Emerson couldn’t know. “Let’s go,” Mason said, tugging on Emerson’s hand. He pulled him back inside, and up to their room. Right now, Mason just wanted to sleep. He hadn’t been able to rest properly since Emerson died. But this…this was good now. Better, apart from his realization.

Feelings like this…they didn’t just go away. Emerson could heal him with kisses. Touches. Love. But deep down, Mason knew he’d always bring hurt. Pain. It was his own idiocy that had gotten him up to this point. He’d died by his own hand (however indirect) and had screwed things up more than once. Emerson couldn’t keep forgiving him. That just wasn’t possible. Mason had gotten far too many second chances. As he finally made it back into his room, he let out a deep breath. No more crying. Things would be okay, for now.

Mason hauled himself over to the bed and kicked his shoes off. He flopped down and curled up, wrapping his arms around the pillow. It had served as a surrogate for the past couple of weeks, but nothing could compare to Emerson’s warmth. Or lack thereof, now. It would take some getting used to. Things would hurt. But they’d heal, given time. Maybe he could get over this self-hatred too. Mason didn’t like feeling like this. It meant things weren’t okay. It meant that he still wasn’t fixed. He had to be whole for Emerson. Emerson deserved somebody better than Mason.

For now, he’d keep those thoughts to himself. Emerson didn’t need to be hurt again. Mason would protect him from that. He’d keep his love safe. But there was the ever present feeling in the back of his mind, the idea that something bad was lurking just around the corner.

Mason wanted to find out what it was. But was it really a good idea to see what was lurking out of sight? 

thaddeus-jefferson:

He was friendly! Thaddeus couldn’t keep his grin to himself, and he clapped his hands together excitedly. It was nice to have people who actually liked you, as opposed to guys like Beauregard. At that thought, Thad licked his lips. Beau might be a jerk, but he was ridiculously good looking, and he had that weird air about him, one that made Thaddeus completely melt. But he couldn’t think about that right now. He knew nothing about…Mason. Mason. It was a nice name. Normal. Oddly fitting. Thad nodded and smiled again.

“Thaddeus,” he replied, “Thaddeus Jefferson. Yeah, it’s my real name. Parents are…” He shrugged and waved his hand. Parents were weird. It was in the job description. Anyway. “Bibliomania? He squinted slightly, trying to remember if he had read anything about it. Nothing immediately came to mind, but you could never be sure. “Library…stuff?” He shrugged slightly, giving Mason an apologetic smile. Should he offer a condition in return? But what could he pick? What would seem most likely? “Hypomania.”

It was as likely as anything, in this place. Plus he figured he could ride that lie for a few weeks. “I’m guessing you’ve been here for a while, huh? I just got here last week. I mean, it’s nice and all, but sometimes the people freak me out. So yeah, everybody loves getting scared. That’s why they watch horror movies and shit. But, like…I dunno. There was this one girl, and she completely freaked out in the middle of group therapy. I think she was tripping or something. Scared the crap out of me. Anyway. Now I can’t sleep, so I decided to go for a walk. and then I met you.” Did Mason want a full rundown of his life up until that point? Probably not. But it wasn’t like he could go back and unsay everything he had just said. So.

Was the universe trying to play a trick on him or something? Did Emerson have a weird personality clone? Was he in on this? Mason stared at Thaddeus, trying to figure him out. Parallels were definitely eerie. Then again, they were also his favourite thing. Apart from Emerson. And maybe reading. Okay, they were his favourite trope. That worked. Mason returned Thaddeus’s smile, and gestured slightly with his book. “Close enough. Obsessive hoarding of books, according to the textbook. I didn’t think there was a problem, but apparently things got out of hand.”

He couldn’t wait to tell Emerson. This would be amazing. “Yeah,” he continued, “I’ve been here for a whi-” Did he just say hypomania? Did. He. Just. This was supposed to be Belfry, not the freaking Twilight Zone. “Hypomania? I…actually there’s someone here who has that. A…friend.” More than a friend. So much more. Mason smiled at the thought. He still wasn’t sure how Thaddeus would react to that, though, so he kept the boyfriend knowledge to himself. Boyfriend. It still felt weird to say. But he loved Emerson, and that was that. Plus he already knew that Emerson and Thaddeus would get along. So it would only be proper to introduce them, right? Well…maybe at a decent hour. Humans needed sleep, despite whatever Thaddeus was telling him.

“Group therapy sessions are always weird. I used to-” Past tense. Merde. “Sometimes take a book. I mean, there’s not really anything to talk about, right? Unless you get the…people like that. The ones that like shouting.” Usually they weren’t integrated into the group sessions, but sometimes exceptions had to be made. Mason could remember a few particularly…interesting sessions. “I don’t sleep much, either way. And it’s not that hard to get out, you know?” Translation: he couldn’t sleep without Emerson wrapped around him, and it wasn’t like the orderlies actually cared about what the ghosts did at night. “Anyway. It’s nice meeting you. I…don’t have many friends.” At least that was the truth.

(Source: mason-fisher)

thaddeus-jefferson:

Thaddeus couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the encounter with Beau. Or his impromptu jerk-off session. Either way, his mind was moving far too fast for him to drift off. So up he got, slipping back into his clothes. He didn’t bother with shoes, figuring he wouldn’t get outside anyway. He just needed a walk to calm his mind. The halls were quiet, which was only to be expected. Thad didn’t know what time it was exactly, but he knew it was late.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. Thaddeus had made it about halfway down the hall before somebody else came around the corner. His nose was buried in a book, but he walked like he knew where he was going. Still, the other guy was unfamiliar to Thaddeus, and that was enough for him. Besides, he might have better luck with this guy that with Beauregard. Not to say he was giving up on his new mark. But the more the merrier.

As the guy walked past, Thaddeus turned on his heel and caught up with him. He grinned as his new friend glanced over, but didn’t say anything. Were they just going to walk in silence? Okay, he could do that. He could follow along…or not. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the quiet-

Yeah, scratch that. Thad hated silence. Growing up in a house like his was enough to instill a fear of calm in anybody. He liked having a lot of things going at once. Reading was accompanied by music, and the TV. If he was watching a movie, he had to be talking over it, or cooking, or playing video games. It was impossible to simply talk to somebody. That being said, he figured that this stranger wouldn’t want him to randomly bust into song or something. So instead he leaned over slightly, trying to see what he was reading. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh? I know that feeling. It’s too quiet here.”

Definitely like Emerson, then. Didn’t know what to not interrupt him. Okay, that was too many negatives in one statement. Definitely too late for that, too. Mason kept a finger in the book to mark his place, and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t sleep much,” he replied evenly. “Too much to do. Books to read.” He laughed a little and held up his own. It was a copy of The Three Musketeers, in French. Emerson had laughed at him for reading it. “I’ve got some stuff to think about anyway.”

Who was this guy, anyway? Mason didn’t recognize him, which meant he must be new. Then again, Mason had spent so much of the past fourteen years in his head. He didn’t know half the people here, even though they had been at Belfry for almost as long as he had. No, Mason really only focused on those he knew. Emerson, Lydia, some of the other ghosts. His list of friends was pitifully short. Yeah, maybe that was a little pathetic. But Mason had never been good at making friends. Something about social conventions seemed to confuse him.

“You…must be new here, right? I haven’t seen you around, anyway.” And he saw people. Mason might not talk to them, but he had eyes. He could remember faces. And this guy? Definitely new. “I’m Mason, by the way. Bibliomania.” It was the next question. He knew how things worked. And it’s not like he could say he was dead. Well, he could, but it might not be believed. Probably wouldn’t. Mason could tell with some people, and this guy didn’t look like the ghost type. “What’s your name?”

(Source: mason-fisher)

Emerson had been strangely absent recently. Mason didn’t mind, of course. They had fixed things, and that was enough for him. Besides, they had the rest of eternity to be together. He could afford to let his boyfriend run free every once in a while. And Mason would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the bit of down time. It was nice to be able to walk around, or read a book. Or walk and read, which was what he was currently doing. Mason usually only went out when it was late. He had been dead for a long time, sure, but it still felt strange to have people ask him why he was there. He had been around for far too long. How on earth had the other ghosts survived this long without going insane?

Okay, maybe that wasn’t a good question to ask.

It was quiet for once, too. Mason liked that. Emerson was really the only welcome interruption in his life. Everyone else was…well, Mason was too nice to call them annoying. But that’s how he felt sometimes. It was an odd feeling.

As he walked, he idly turned a page, shifting his grip on the book. He barely noticed the few people he passed, focused on his book. That is, until somebody came up beside him. Mason glanced over for a moment. Tall, curly hair, lanky. He looked a little like Emerson. Huh. Now what on earth could he want?

emerson-shmitt:

Emerson stood there, pressed against the fence, a huge ass mess. He felt so minuscule. He was in so much pain. How did something like this even happen? How could this much pain actually exist? Emerson didn’t know it could hurt in this way. He didn’t think he was capable of this. It felt like he was being split in two. Like mason was his other half and now that it seemed he would lose him, Emerson was left with only one half. Empty. There was no way to describe exactly what he was feeling. He was barely functioning. It occurred to him that all this could be because he had died. Now that he was deceased, he didn’t really have anyone else but Mason; had not had anyone, really, since he met Mason. Mason was everything. Everything.

Looking out over the hill Belfry rested on, Emerson sighed, blinking each time a tear fell. If he could get out of the gate he’d appear right back where he was. He was trapped. He couldn’t run from his emotions. There was no running. Plus, he wouldn’t run, especially with Mason’s voice breaking the soft silence that had washed over them. Emerson listened, finding it hard to turn his gaze over. Looking at Mason hurt. But as he started getting deeper into his words, Emerson’s heart gave a small stutter of life. Mason didn’t necessarily not want him. He was being his stupid self. He had had consumed himself with his thoughts. Emerson would fall in love with a guy like Mason. It was his luck, of course-not that he was complaining because falling in love with Mason was the best thing that had happened to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a few shaky breaths and brought his hands up to wipe his eyes.

“M-Mason!” he started, turning to finally look at him. He was standing up now and Emerson wanted to run to his arms, wrap his around Mason, never let go. “You’re acting like I’m an expert with relationships! I may have dated a few times but you’re my first relationship-relationship. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone else like I have with you. I’ve never felt this deeply. It’s just as new to me as it is to you! I mean…what am I supposed to do if you remove yourself and you’re the only happiness? Where does that leave me? There isn’t an equation without a variable. You know that!” Mason, with his broken voice and crushed face, was downright heart breaking. Emerson could almost forget about his own pain. Mason was his love, his life, and they were both a little messed up but that made them perfect for each other. He knew Mason had issues with this sort of thing. There was something going on in that head of his and Emerson wasn’t going to let it ruin them.

“God. I-” he shook his head to clear that. Emerson had things to say first. “You have to know that I believe everything you say. I know that because its how I feel. I love you so much it hurts. I…I can’t….I can’t do it like this, though. You can’t push me away and I won’t let you because if you really want me and need me and love me then we can’t be apart and I won’t let you run and I will not allow you to hurt me like this when it’s unnecessary because that’s not what people who love each other do! You’re not allowed to do this. We have each other and that’s all I care about and that’s all you should worry about. And I don’t give a damn what you convinced yourself because nothing you can say will make me believe it. You don’t have to apologize because no matter what you’ll always have me. You have my heart in your hands, Mason. I will never get it back. I don’t want it back. I always want to see you and I don’t plan on making you leave and I don’t plan on not forgiving you. Just…” Emerson gasped for hair and gulped before whispering, “just stay with me.”

He had spoke so much, run on sentenced galore but didn’t care! The urge to cuddle himself into Mason was now pounding into him and Emerson couldn’t ignore it. He gave a whimper, tears falling. How was he still crying, anyway? He could drown himself in his own tears by now. But he wouldn’t. Drowning wouldn’t kill him and he wouldn’t kill himself solely for the reason that he wanted to stay with Mason. Taking the few feet in front of him, Emerson surrendered and wrapped his arms tight around Mason’s neck. His heart gave a small sigh of relief, his arms clamping in a threat to never let go. He sobbed as he nestled his face into Mason’s neck. Emerson wanted Mason’s arms around him, kind of wishing they had warmth to share. “My Mason, my love, d-don’t do this to me. You have to stay with me. Forever. You love me despite all the shit I do and mistakes I make. You deserve mercy. You always have my forgiveness. I can’t let go of you now. Not after…everything.”

He kept himself tangled around Mason. He needed the comfort, craved it like a drug addict craved drugs. Emerson knew he and Mason could make it through anything. This wouldn’t stop them. It couldn’t. He found himself kissing Mason’s neck gently. He nuzzled his neck with his nose, his tears staining Mason’s skin. “I love you so much. You could hate me with every ounce in your body and I’d still love you. I love you more than the stars and galaxies and universes combined. You mean so much, so much, and I can’t possibly imagine myself without you. Don’t go.”

Sighing and running his hands through the hair at the base of Mason’s neck, Emerson shook his head, sniffled as the tears fell out of habit now. “Just forget everything. Tell me you love me. That I’m your world. That I you’ll be mine forever. That no matter what I’ll always have you. Just…just tell me. Tell me this is over.” This had to be over. “Tell me we can forget about it and I can pretend it never happened. Please? I just..I need…I need something..I need-I need you. Don’t tease me again. Don’t do that. I promise I’ll always make you happy if you just…if you just keep me.”

Mason could barely think. His brain was racing too fast, thoughts flashing in and out of focus too fast for him to see what they were made of. But Emerson was there. Emerson was still there. He hadn’t walked away, hadn’t left, hadn’t ignored Mason. He had listened and oh, fuck, Mason did not deserve him. He didn’t deserve the goodness that was Emerson. Emerson, the love of his life. His first, his last. His only. And as the arms wrapped around him, it was like the damn finally broke and all his feelings came rushing out. Emerson was his, only his, forever. They’d be together. Nothing would change that, because they were stronger than anything that might stand between them. He wrapped his arms around Emerson and held him tight, burying his face in a familiar shoulder. They fit together, like a puzzle. It was meant to be. It always had been.

Okay, Mason. Time to put those words to good use. Emerson wanted him. Would always want him. The fighting, his stupidity, it wasn’t important. They could just be. So was all the reading, the books, the prose, for this? Preparation? “I love you. I love you like the moon loves the stars, and the sun loves a summer’s day. You’re everything to me. My world. I can’t exist without you, because you’re my reason for living. You make me feel alive. You taught me what love really was. Before you, I was alone, and I thought I was happy. But I lied to myself. I got so good at lying that I started to believe it. But you showed me the truth. Before you, I was blind. And now I see. You’re perfect, Emerson. I don’t love you despite your faults, because you don’t have any. You could never be anything but perfect. You mean everything to me, and I’m never going to let you forget it. It would take longer than an eternity to show you how much you mean to me.”

It wasn’t enough. He could never stop talking, and it would never be enough. Emerson deserved so much more than what Mason could give him. But he’d try his hardest to prove it. Emerson was his love, his life, his world. Mason took a shaky breath, wondering how he was still able to cry after this. Maybe he’d just dry out. “I love you. I didn’t believe in love, but you made me see. You made me whole, Emerson. Before you, I was incomplete. But I lied to myself. I pretended I was okay, just so I wouldn’t have to go searching for something better. But you changed all that. You made me see, and you completed me. You complete me. I love you so much.”

As Mason pressed a damp kiss to Emerson’s cheek, the rational part of his brain wondered how this might look to any passersby. Probably like a right fucking mess (granted, it was…), but he didn’t care. He had Emerson, and that was all that mattered. Emerson was the only thing that mattered anymore. Mason knew that now, and from his new standpoint it wasn’t clear how he had forgotten. How could he ignore how beautiful Emerson was? What could make him forget how hopelessly in love he was? Maybe…maybe he had just been scared. Emerson had scared him, however much he didn’t mean to. And people lashed out when they were scared. It was…understandable.

Not to that extent. Mason let out another sob and a fresh wave of tears cascaded downwards. He buried his face in Emerson’s shoulder, craving some sort of comfort. Warmth. That’s right. Emerson was dead. Emerson had…inadvertently killed himself. But it had been an accident. He’d just wanted to feel normal again. Whole. Like Mason did. How couldn’t he have seen that before? “I was afraid,” he murmured. “I was scared that you were gone. That you living was somehow part of it. Like…if you were dead you wouldn’t want me anymore.” He didn’t want to explain it. Everything he came up with sounded so weak. Pathetic. Emerson was the most important thing in his life. How could he have forgotten that?

However it was, he owed Emerson the explanation. Even if Emerson said he didn’t want it. Mason needed to share, needed to tell Emerson. He couldn’t hold onto all these feelings. Mason was used to internalizing things. He tended towards introverted. Hated sharing with people he didn’t know. People who might judge him, or send him away. Rejection was scary too. Mason had always been surrounded by people who loved him. Doted on him, even. When he went out into the real world, the harsh reality had been a shock to his system. Instead of testing the waters, he had dove right in. It was enough to make him revert back to his childhood state, to hide all his feelings behind a book. And then he had never really grown out of it.

Emerson was the only reason he was still around. Mason knew he would have found out eventually. Or else he’d have just locked himself in his room and never come out again. He could have stayed there forever; reading, writing, thinking. But then Emerson had come along and changed all of that. Emerson had made Mason see the world (whatever small corner he could) and it had been amazing. Exhilarating, rather than terrifying. Emerson could be too much. He could be hyperactive, and loud, and a thousand other things. But all that paled in the face of his love. Emerson loved like nobody else, and that’s what Mason wanted the most. He wanted the laughter, and the touches. He wanted the kisses, and the whispered declaration of love. He wanted everything, and nothing else.

“You have my heart. You have all of me, and I wouldn’t ask for anything in return. I’d give you the whole world if I could. I’d go to the end of the universe and back if it would make you happy. You’re my everything, and I’ll be forever yours. No matter what.” It was clear now. He physically couldn’t be apart from Emerson. Leaving him hurt too much. Being away only strengthened the feeling that he was drowning, fighting in vain to stay above the water. “I love you.” He took Emerson’s face in both hands, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. He shouldn’t be crying. Emerson should never be unhappy. That meant something was wrong. “I love you.” First, Mason kissed both cheeks. He could taste Emerson’s tears, and hoped that he’d never have to see them again. Then, he pressed their foreheads together, wrapping his arms around Emerson’s waist and pulling him closer. “I love you.”

emerson-shmitt:

Looking over at Mason, Emerson blinked tears, tried to catch his breath, and sniffled. How did they end up here? A couple months ago (no…it was more than that! Time went by so fast!) they barely knew each other. Now they were were going to lose each other because of how much the felt. Emerson’s lips quivered as he tried to stop the tears sliding down his cheeks. He could barely see. He couldn’t see Mason’s face. Why was it all so complicated? It wasn’t fair. Why had Mason started this!? Emerson gave him no reason for any of this. All he ever did was love Mason unconditionally.

He kept wondering what he had done wrong. Was loving him too suffocating? Was Emerson that overbearing? Taking a shaky breath, Emerson swallowed and licked his lips, only to bite down on his bottom lip. He wanted nothing more than to be in Mason’s arms. Ever since he was up on that roof, knowing he was going to die, he wanted Mason’s arms. His voice telling him he was safe and that he was okay. His lips brushed the top of his head. Even when he showed up and first talked to Mason after everything, Emerson wanted his comfort. Mason hadn’t given it. There had to be a reason as to why he had pushed Emerson away so suddenly. It couldn’t be his death, could it? Emerson didn’t care when they discovered Mason was dead. Didn’t care one bit because there was more to Mason than just some dead ghost. He was a soul, he could still feel. Just because he was dead didn’t mean Emerson had to leave.

So why was Mason being like this?!

Glancing over again at Mason, Emerson saw him stand up. Emerson had sat down just to be next to him-even if it was a couple feet away-and all of a sudden Mason backed away. Oh, this distance was killing him. It was downright killing him. This was worse than the shit storm with Sam and Emerson couldn’t understand why it was like that. This…this was all Mason and Emerson was completely lost and unaware as to why all the shit hit the fan. He just wanted Mason back, the Mason he had before he did that idiotic overdose. Forever in Belfry would be awfully long time with Mason to spend it with. He couldn’t even go to Sam because honestly…going to him wouldn’t even help. Emerson, sad to say, had no desire to go see the blue eyed boy who came into his life as a crush. He didn’t want to see Sam at all. The only thing he absolutely craved was Mason.

Mason.

When he heard his name, Emerson whimpered. Mason sounded so..tormented. He wasn’t saying everything that was on his mind. He wasn’t being open with Emerson. That hurt far too much. Ouch. Mason had always been so honest with him. He was a mystery to him right now. And the funny thing was, Emerson wouldn’t give up. He would never give up fighting for Mason. That’s what you did when you loved someone. You stuck with them even if the road was rough. Now granted, there didn’t seem to be a road in sight anywhere-just a huge ass gap that left Emerson fumbling, trying not to fall off, only to see Mason on the other side running away. Emerson would keep up, though. He wouldn’t let himself lose Mason over this. Mason was stubborn as hell, he was quiet, he was shy, and he cared about books way too much. But he also had a wonderful laugh and a big heart and soothing voice and a beautiful mind. Emerson loved him. As far as he was concerned, this was just a blimp in the timeline. He would stick with Mason no matter what.

Emerson mentally nodded that he would keep himself strong through this when he heard Mason apologize. It was soft, broken, and Emerson’s heart dropped. Sorry for what? Causing this? Hurting Emerson? Probably both. But before Emerson had his mouth open to speak Mason was running away. “Mason! W-where are you going!?” he croaked, jumping up and sprinting after him. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, watching Mason dart away. Wrapping his arms around his torso, Emerson let out a weak sob. He had to follow him. He had to. He didn’t have shoes on and he wasn’t in the mood for running barefoot so he quickly ran back into the room and slipped on his grey vans and headed in Mason’s direction. He thudded down the stairs, a mess of tears and hiccups and my God he was practically hyperventilating. People in the stairwell seemed annoyed; it was probably deja vu for them. Emerson didn’t care. It wasn’t their business.

He frantically looked around, finding it hard to see with the tears flooding his sight but he saw a person and grabbed their shoulders. “Did you see a boy running around here?! Did you!?” He saw it was a girl now that he blinked a few times and she looked frightened of him, pointing her finger to the outside doors, Emerson quickly headed in that direction. When the outside air blasted his face, Emerson gasped. It was cold. He couldn’t feel it-he was dead-but it was habit to cross his arms as if he were chilled. His mouth hung open, gaping for air, and he could’ve sworn his tears would freeze against his face. He sniffled and blinked again, more tears escaping and running down. It was about then he realized that he didn’t really need to breathe but he felt suffocated anyway. His eyes scanned around, looking for the love of his life, and when he spotted him his heart stuttered. He was actually a bit nervous to walk up to him. What if he had wanted to be left alone? Emerson highly debated giving Mason his wishes. But he had made a silent promise to himself to stick my Mason. 

And that’s how he found himself making the trek over to Mason.

It felt forever long but he actually made it there quickly. The grass rustled under his feet and whatever part of him that was weakly holding on shattered when he heard Mason sobbing quietly. Taking a few more steps towards him, Emerson licked this and took a deep breath before trying to making his presence known. “M-Mason…? D-do you…um..if you d-don’t want me…h-here…” another tear fell causing him to blink more onto his cheeks, “just t-tell me.” He never stuttered. Emerson never stuttered. But he was so scared and vulnerable that he couldn’t even speak properly. His voice cracked every so often and he found his bottom lip quivering. Squeezing his eyes shut, Emerson took the few feet to the fence and pressed his forhead against the bars. He had to make himself sound more solid. Why wasn’t he stronger? He had never felt this in his life. “If you don’t w-want me…anymore…” he couldn’t finish it. Because really-could Emerson leave Mason and never look back?

No, probably not.

There wasn’t any way he could fix this. The last time, Emerson had at least been sorry. Mason had maybe overreacted. But this time…this time there wasn’t anything he could do. Emerson wouldn’t forgive him, and he’d be alone again. Completely and totally alone. And he’d be that way for the rest of eternity. How could Emerson forgive him? Mason couldn’t even forgive himself for ruining everything. Again. He was such a terrible person. Emerson had given him nothing but love, and Mason had thrown all that back in his face. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he insist on making things harder for himself? This wasn’t healthy. Maybe he belonged in Belfry. Well, he didn’t exactly have a choice now. But it was better that he had found out how fucked up he was now, as opposed to living, and going back out into the real world. If he did that, he might have hurt more people. His family. Whatever acquaintances he called friends. So yeah, this was better. Easier.

Not easier. Easy would imply that some part of this would feel good. All Mason felt was a deep sense of self-loathing. He was a terrible person. Pathetic. Petty. Stubborn. Undeserving of everything Emerson had given him. Emerson… Mason couldn’t live without him (lucky, then, that he was already dead…). But apparently he couldn’t live with him either. That’s why there was the rift between them. And then Mason had to drive a crowbar into it, widen the gap. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Emerson never wanted to talk to him again. Mason knew he’d be upset. The question was how much.

He found himself thinking back to when they had first met. Things were simpler then. They sat, and watched the snow. It was quiet, peaceful. Now…now he just felt sick. Pathetic. Sad. Could they ever get back to that, that first time? The serenity of it…Mason missed that more than anything. He loved Emerson with all his heart. But then his stupid ideas had to get in the way. Why did he even open his mouth in the first place? Couldn’t he have tried to solider on? At least then Emerson would still be with him. At least then they could be happy. Maybe things would be better. But he couldn’t go back and change the past now. Mason knew he’d have to man up and take whatever he got.

He didn’t feel very strong. Mason had trouble at the best of times. He felt so strongly. Maybe he didn’t always react, but he felt. He cared about everything. Everybody. This…this was too difficult. Being with Emerson was like a rollercoaster of emotion, and Mason didn’t know how much more his heart could take. But wasn’t that why he loved Emerson? All these feelings were totally new, and it made them that much more special. Emerson was his first everything. And he’d definitely be his last. There was no moving on. They’d either be together forever, or not at all. Mason didn’t want anybody but Emerson. His Emerson. He couldn’t take another breakup. “So why’d you do it?” he asked, a little surprised at how strong his voice sounded. As if to counterbalanace, he let out another sob. Pathetic. Useless. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why would he ever try to give up someone as good and wonderful as Emerson? What the hell had he been thinking?

“You weren’t thinking,” he reminded himself, sniffling. Mason rubbed his face on his sleeve, and a fresh wave of tears cascaded down to replace the ones he had wiped away. Part of him just wanted to leave. Escape. That would be easier than this. This was worse than his nightmares, worse that feeling like he was drowning. This was torture of the worst kind. Physical pain faded. You outgrew fears, or else learned how to deal with them. But heartbreak…now that was a whole new category. By opening yourself up to someone, you opened up a whole new channel of ways to get hurt. He remembered something his mom had told him a long time ago. Back before, when he was alive. Back when he was off to the real world. He had been so damn optimistic then. He was going to get a degree, and make his parents proud. Instead, he had landed himself in Belfry, and then he’d died. He’d never see his family again, never get to tell his mom about any of this.

Hearts don’t break like legs break, she had said, the pieces never really mend. He knew that to be true now. His heart was shattered completely, and Mason wasn’t sure if it would ever be whole again. He felt sick. Terrible. He hated himself. Hated. Nothing could ever fix this. Emerson wouldn’t forgive him. Of course not. Mason had fucked up royally, and he couldn’t quite deal with that. Emerson would have to leave. Funny thing was, that wasn’t what Mason wanted anymore. He wanted Emerson. His Emerson. All his. But…not anymore. How could Emerson forgive him?

He almost didn’t hear the voice, or the footsteps. But when Emerson-had to be!-spoke, Mason felt his heart break all over again. He had caused all of this. It was his damn fault, and nothing would change that. Mason looked up, gulping in a breath. He wiped his eyes again, feeling fresh tears soak into his sleeve. Emerson was stammering, trying to speak. Mason hadn’t heard that before, and he knew how serious it was. Emerson was…hurting. More than hurting. Mason had broken him. That much was clear. God, he hated himself. Hated. Hated. He didn’t deserve anything good. Why should he, when all he caused was heartbreak? He was pathetic. Terrible. “I…” His voice cracked as he tried to speak. This was his chance. He could at least try and make things right.

This time, he knew he wouldn’t fail at going incorporeal. If Emerson didn’t want him, there wasn’t any other choice.

“Emerson…” he said again. It was as good a start as any. And it seemed to be the only thing he could say. But no. He wouldn’t choke this time. He had to make it right. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He took a deep breath and wiped his face, holding his sleeve there for a moment to catch the tears. “I…I know I can’t explain myself. I don’t know what the hell I’m saying half the time. I…fuck. Fuck. I’m so sorry. I don’t know…I’ve never done this before. You know that. I don’t know how relationships work. Not in this context. There are too many unknowns. Variables. And I just thought…I don’t know why. I thought you might be happier if I took myself out of the equation. I thought you might be able to…to move on. After your…” He couldn’t say death. Emerson was far more alive than anyone else in this hellhouse. “After you. I love you, more than anything. You’ll always be my first, and my last.” He paused to take a breath, and kept onwards. “I want you. I need you. More than air, or sleep, or food. More than life. You’re my everything, and I can’t even begin to fathom what existing would be like without you. I can’t explain why I felt the need to push you away. I was stupid, so fucking stupid. No apologies in the world can make that right. I’ll un-” His voice broke. He had to go one, though, had to finish. Just one last push, Mason. One last explanation, and then you can go away forever. “If you never want to see me again, I’ll understand. If you can’t forgive me for hurting you like this…it’s okay. Believe me, I want you to stay more than anything. I just…I don’t know what I’m thinking. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. If you don’t want this, though, you can leave. I’ll understand. I won’t be mad. You have every right to be upset. I was stupid. So stupid. I can’t forgive myself for hurting you, and it would be too much to ask for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve that kind of…of mercy.”

There. Now he could go. If Emerson didn’t want him, nobody else would. He was damaged goods now. No way out of that if Emerson left him. “I’m so sorry.”

abcdefghijkyla:

-Mark Danielewski, House of Leaves

emerson-shmitt:

Emerson was confused. That was the best way to describe it. There was no way that they Mason could be breaking up with him right now. They were…they were together, they fit, they worked. Despite their varying differences. Emerson didn’t understand how this could be happening right now. It couldn’t be in the cards or stars for them. It just couldn’t! He listened to everything Mason had to say and tried to pick out the most important parts. He wanted to be sweet about this but some part of him knew that Mason’s words weren’t just making him upset. They were also making him very angry.

“Don’t have to do this? You mean love you, right? Be with you? So you want me to leave? Mason…out of everything in the world, you’re the only thing I’m sure of. I can’t leave you, I won’t know what to do! You’re everything to me. You hear that? Everything. I can’t fathom how important you are to me or how much I love you or how much I need you or how much I want you because those things come from my actions not my words. I can’t magically try to make you stay or believe me when I only have so little time to convince you!”

Emerson shook his head, he was losing Mason and goddammit he wouldn’t let himself do that! He was not going to lose the love of his life. He felt like he was grasping at thin air, like there was no way to to save this even if he bled his whole body into it. Mason was going to be hard headed, stubborn. There was going to be no way that Emerson could change his mind. He was going to try anyway. He was going to try no matter what. He would fight for the love of his life because fuck he didn’t believe in fairy tales but they didn’t go like this. He was supposed to be with Mason forever and they were supposed to be happy. Not like this, never like this. It hurt far too much. His heart was breaking with each breath he took. He would have no one around if Mason left him. God he was so afraid of being alone, too.

“You regret everything?” he whispered. If he brought his voice any louder it would crack. He was literally breaking. Snapping. Losing it. How did he feel like he was dying already when he was already dead? He wanted to die if he couldn’t have Mason. But then Emerson remembered that Mason brought of Sam and he immediately felt a spark of anger. He narrowed his eyes and clamped his jaw. “Don’t you dare bring Sam into this. I never loved him! Nothing like I felt for you! I had a crush on him, Mason. A crush! That was dwindled down to nothing when he found someone else and so did I. I found you and I never wanted anything else after that. I didn’t feel pity for you, my God, never. As long as I could have you…I didn’t need anything else. But I did not love Sam Rockwell. Not it anyway shape or form like I love you. Stop pushing me away,” he ordered. He was not going to have this. Not anymore. Mason was being too stubborn.

“And I don’t want to be fucking free, Mason! Without you, what you call ‘free’, is lonely and large and scary! Free is over rated and I don’t want that! You never tied me down. You never will.” Sniffling, Emerson felt the tears stream down his face once more and he reached up to quickly wipe them away. He situated on the couch so he was more stiff and straightened his back. “Maybe I’m too much for you? Am I too much? I’d understand. People think I’m too much all the time. Are you lying and making this ‘it’s all for you’ thing up? Maybe it is my fault. But if it is… stop lying to me.” Emerson was frantic. He didn’t know what to say to Mason. Didn’t know at all. But he found himself getting a bit angrier by the second. He was breaking, being torn, he had to protect himself in what little way he could.

But he wouldn’t let his anger lose Mason even more. No. And when he heard the last things Mason was saying…Emerson lost it. Oh he hurt so much and he couldn’t figure out a way to heal himself other then protect what was left of him. He released a frustrated cry and sprung up from the couch so he towered over Mason. “Attached? Pretending? Since when do you get the final fucking verdict on what I feel and what I don’t feel? Who says I’m pretending about anything?! Everything I say to you is the honest truth and you’re being so stubborn and not listening!” Emerson was rather annoyed at the pretending comment. Honestly, where Mason came up with these things were beyond Emerson. He had no idea what the kid was even thinking right now.

“You’re so smart, Mason, and I admire that and I wish I had half of the knowledge that big brain of yours had…” he started, shaking his head and leaning down into Mason’s face, “but sometimes you…God, you can be so. Fucking. Stupid.” Yes, Mason was being stubborn and Emerson was getting fed up with it. First he was breaking (still was…), and then he was angry, and now he was both. With one more frustrated groan, Emerson rose his hands and shoved them against Mason’s shoulders, pushing him right into back of the couch. “You’re hurting me, Mason! Stop it! Just…just STOP IT! This is fucking ridiculous and you know it! Why are you being like this!? Stop being so stupid and accept that I love you with my entire heart! And that no matter what you say, you’re not changing how I feel or what I’m going to be with you. So no, I won’t be your friend. I’m your boyfriend and I always will be.” Taking a breather because he felt like he had talked so much in the past few minutes, Emerson huffed and collapsed back onto the couch, a mess of hot, angry tears. Heart breaking.

Mason had never liked shouting. For one, it disturbed the peace. Quiet was much more preferable, but that would be far too much to ask for, especially considering…everything that was happening. He had to stay in the moment. Or should he be thinking? How was he supposed to react? This was just like last time, only…only Emerson hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d said so himself. Why couldn’t Mason just forgive him and be done with it? Why was it so hard? How had Emerson done it? How had Emerson managed to get over Mason’s death? Questions, questions…

Sam had been a bad idea. Mason shouldn’t have mentioned it. Not after everything they had gone through, not unless he really wanted to hurt Emerson. And that’s not what Mason wanted at all. He had just wanted a clean break. But Mason didn’t want even that. He loved Emerson too much to let him go. So why was he doing this? What was he thinking? Why was he so confused? Mason thought that things would fall into place, that the way would magically reveal itself. But now things just seemed to be getting worse and worse. This wasn’t what he wanted. Not at all. He wanted things to be okay. So why the fuck weren’t they? Why was he so messed up? Why did he have to ruin every nice thing he had?

No, shouting wasn’t nice, especially when it was coming from Emerson. Normally Mason would have wanted to step up, and protect his boyfriend from whatever was upsetting him. But…what was he supposed to do when he was hurting Emerson himself? Leave him? No, Emerson didn’t want him to leave. What could he do? How could he help? Could he even keep arguing at this point? Not at all, in truth. All his arguments were less than weak. Pathetic. Why did he want this? Did he even want this? He was so confused. One thing was clear, though.

Hate. Mason wasn’t a hateful person by any means. He had dislikes, sure. People interrupting him reading (unless it was Emerson, of course), the ones who folded down page corners, crowds, water…but he didn’t actively hate anything. Or…he hadn’t until now. Because at that moment, there was nothing Mason hated more than himself. He ruined everything. He always did. He blew things out of proportion. Overreacted. That’s why they had broken up the last time. Emerson had cheated on him, but he’d…done it for him. No, no, stop thinking about that. Think about how stupid you are instead. How much you do not deserve this boy. He’s too good for you. It was true. Emerson deserved so much better, but instead he wanted Mason. Poor, sad, stupid, broken Mason. Mason, who hadn’t even been able to realize he was dead. Emerson could have had anyone, and he wanted Mason.

As Emerson shoved him, Mason flinched back. He hadn’t been expecting that, but…well, it was better than getting punched in the face. He still couldn’t think about that whole incident without getting nervous. And Mason didn’t like violence either. Besides, Emerson had promised never to hurt him again, not after what had happened with Sam. Emerson loved him. Emerson…Emerson wouldn’t hurt him. Not again. Not ever.

So why the fuck was he doing this?

Mason stared at Emerson, unable to do more than that. Had he really…? Fuck, shit, merde, what was wrong with him? Why was he… Mason took a shaky breath, eyes welling up with tears. He stood, slowly, not wanting to be near Emerson. If he got close again, he might do something stupid. Might try to hurt Emerson again. Fuck. He had been so stupid. What was wrong with him? Where the hell did all these ideas come from anyway? Mason didn’t know, and he didn’t want to go searching for answers. Not now, anyway. But why…what was with these mood changes? What was wrong with him? What on earth would make him think that leaving Emerson would be a good idea? How…

As he took another step back, Mason crossed his arms over his chest. He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “Emerson…” There wasn’t anything he could say. He couldn’t justify himself. There was no reasoning behind whatever the hell he had tried to pull. And he couldn’t just apologize to Emerson. That wouldn’t work. Or would it? Emerson loved him, right? Still loved him, even after that. Hopefully. Maybe. Boyfriends. They’d always be together. Emerson was dead now, just like him. Not even time could tear them apart. And all at once he realized. Emerson was everything to him. Before Emerson…it was like he was living in a fog. He had been stuck in a fantasy world. Thinking he was going to get better. Thinking he was going to go home and see his family again. Emerson had taken that away, but he’d given Mason something else. He’d given himself to Mason, and that was better than any book would ever be. Emerson was real. It didn’t matter that he was dead. He was far more alive than anyone else in this place.

“Emerson…” God, he’d been so stupid. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. It was the only thing he could say. And it could only cover a fraction of what he felt. Suddenly, the room felt too small. Stifling. Mason took another shaky breath and turned. He had to get out. Emerson wouldn’t go anywhere, hopefully. Mason could give him some time to calm down, and then they could talk. He might be able to explain whatever the hell his mind had come up with. So he left, resisting the urge to break into a sprint. He could be calm. He could…fuck. Fuck. Mason rubbed a hand over his face, and headed for the roof. As he passed the stairwell, he heard voices drifting up from a lower floor. Not important. He had to get outside. He was about to turn towards the roof, when the nurses’ words drifted back through his mind. No. Not the roof. He couldn’t. Too soon.

All of a sudden, Mason broke into a run. He sprinted down the stairs, taking them three or four at a time. There were people on the stairs, but he hardly noticed them shouting after him. Outside. Fresh air. The hospital blurred out of focus as the tears started falling, and Mason had to stifle his cries. He was such a terrible person. Barely human. How could he do this? How could he hurt his love like that? What was wrong with him? Why…why?! When he finally burst outside, the fresh air barely made an impression. Mason simply collapsed near the fence and buried his face in his hands, sobbing helplessly. There was something wrong with him. Something terribly wrong. Normal people didn’t hurt their friends like this. No, not friends. Emerson was so much more to him. Emerson was his world. His reason for existing. If he couldn’t have Emerson, what was the point?

He just had to hope Emerson would follow.

emerson-shmitt:

“Your fault or not, I never wanted you to see me like that,” he murmured. Emerson cuddled Mason, needed to be close to him like they had before. There was something in him that absolutely needed Mason and he wasn’t going to ignore it. See, before Mason, Emerson had thought all that meant anything in the world was adrenaline. That was the only thing that seemed to make him feel…alive. Of course he was alive without adrenaline but it wasn’t so invigorating. That rush he felt had always comforted him. It was perfect for when he needed to forget about things. Things like taking care of 5 year old sister or arguing with his parents about not taking care of her. He knew he had been their decision way back when. They had wanted Emerson and there was no doubting that. They didn’t want Allie. Drunk mistake, poor thing. Emerson had to yell at them just to give him money (which they clearly had) for food for her. Their silly vacations, too. Like those honestly meant shit when it came down to it. There were times when he was so upset he thought about running away; get away from them all. But Allie had needed him. So he would wait, wait for their parents to come home and he’d ditch to go find something adrenaline worthy. It was always there, no matter what. Who cared if he was addicted? It made him feel so small in comparison to all the shit that always went on. Sure, adrenaline made you strong, but it also opened you up to danger. Danger had a way of making a person feel so minuscule. He had such an important role in his family and he felt too large for his own good; minuscule was a very nice thing for him.

Until it became “bad” and of “danger” to himself an “others”. Fuck his therapist back home. Fuck him. He had encouraged his family to send Emerson to Belfry. Emerson, in truth, was excited when he found out. Somewhere other than home? Yes. Dream come true. Only Allie was his concern. They’d either give her a nanny or actually take care of her themselves. But it was going to be off Emerson’s plate now. And that was okay with him. Plus…Belfry had become very rewarding. Granted, he had that thing with Sam that he thought to be the end of the world. That had hurt. He didn’t remember feeling pain like that, even with his parents and Allie. Sam had single handedly crushed Emerson.

It brought him to Mason, though.

After that, there was no more Before Mason. There was only Mason and Emerson loved it. He never planned on there being an After Mason. Still didn’t plan on it. With Mason, adrenaline didn’t matter. He was the only rush Emerson needed. With the boy who had made him feel better that one shitty night, Emerson saw things differently. It wasn’t just about himself and his issues. It wasn’t about getting away from problems with adrenaline. Mason taught Emerson to face the things at hand. When he had cheated on him (and my God did he still feel horrible for that) Emerson had to learn that his needs and personal issues weren’t supposed to come first. He had to put Mason before himself. Emerson wasn’t even sure when he realized he loved Mason. It happened, though. Maybe when he confronted Mason and apologized and saw that he forgave him. Maybe that was it. All Emerson knew was that Mason, the kid who loved the smell of books, was a savage when he found a new one, was the boy he loved with all his heart. No, Emerson didn’t need a stupid adrenaline rush with what was right in front of him. Mason Humphrey Fisher was all he needed. Was all he wanted.

Loving someone wasn’t simple, Emerson knew. It was complex, filled with a new experience and fact every moment. He never would know what went on in Mason’s head. He could stare at him for days and never put together all the things his love thought. He loved the unknown when it came to Mason. Adrenaline hadn’t been unknown. He had liked that; the unknown used to scare him. Mason changed that. God, he changed Emerson so much. Love with Mason was reckless and exciting and horrible and unbelievable all at the same time. A rush all on its own. He loved Mason. He’d never question that, either. And he assumed Mason felt the same way. He’d forgiven him for all the mishaps that had ever happened because of Emerson. He was there for him when Emerson needed him. They made each other happy.

As Mason started talking though, Emerson felt his heart drop. Was…Mason breaking up with him? Trying to gulp down lump in his throat, Emerson tightened his hold on Mason. Was he losing him? No! How was…this wasn’t supposed to even happen. Did Mason not want him anymore? Emerson had no planned on and After Mason, like he had thought about, it wasn’t in his book! He pulled his face away just a little as he bit his lip and shook his head. “Someone better?” Even if he believed that, who would he have gone to? He was stuck in Belfry. The only person he wanted was Mason. That was it. No if, ands or buts. “Hopeless?” he questioned. “M-Mason…don’t-you’re not breaking up with me, are you? That can’t be what you’re doing right now. This is what I really want, I always say that. I want you. I don’t want someone else. You’re the ‘someone better’. Don’t you get that?” He felt tears well up in his eyes and then he realized he couldn’t hold onto Mason physically if it wouldn’t keep him emotionally. “You don’t love me anymore, do you? You don’t want me..?”

Pulling his arms away, Emerson inched a couple inches from Mason. “Can’t get over..this? This as in…my death? Or…?” It was childish, yes, but Emerson found himself covering his face with his hands, felt his head drop. “There isn’t anyone better,” he mumbled, “I don’t want to be alone! You’re the only thing that makes everything right and good and what am I supposed to do with out you?!” He dropped his hands, cheeks already wet from the soft sobbing he’d done a moment ago. “You can’t shove yourself away from me because you think I deserve someone better! You’re the best person I know! You’re all I ever wanted. I can’t…I can’t just stop wanting you.” His shoulders drooped and he was frowning and his face was oh so crumbled. Mason wanted to push him away. He was going to fight his position no matter what Mason said. How had this happened? His sweet little Mason that he met what felt so long ago was letting go. They had wanted to be friends and then couldn’t ignore the persistent feelings they felt for each other. “I can’t change the fact that I’m dead, Mason, I can’t,” he cried, only to whisper, “please don’t leave me.”

Breaking up was the hardest part. Mason had read about it, sure. He had even gone through it once, back when the…thing had happened. He didn’t like thinking about that, though. That happening meant he had been wrong about Emerson’s love. Even if it was a misguided attempt…no, no thinking about it. Mason knew he was always right. Always. And that meant that Emerson didn’t love him. If Mason thought so, it had to be true. Whatever Emerson thought was love, was really some misguided attempt at pity. He thought he could make Mason feel better about his own pathetic life, which clearly wasn’t the case. Mason liked being alone. It was all he knew, and he was comfortable with that. When other people came into the picture, things got difficult. People got hurt, especially people like him. Sensitive. Weak.

“It’s okay, Emerson,” Mason said, trying to put on a brave smile. He was always right. He knew that this was the right thing to do. “I understand. You…you don’t have to do this anymore, okay?” Whatever Emerson said was just him trying to save face. Mason didn’t need that, though. They were friends. They understood each other. This was the right thing to do. There was no doubt about it. “I know you want to leave. I’m sorry…I’m sorry you died.” Emerson sounded nervous though. Hurt. Mason had to fix that. That was his job, making his friends feel better. Well, friend. Emerson was his first. And…possibly his last, if things kept up the way they were. “I love you, and that’s why I have to do this. Whatever you’re feeling…it’s not love. Back when we first met, and again when we found out I was…dead. I told you I was alone. My family’s gone, and I didn’t have anyone here. This…this was just you feeling sorry for me. I apologize for letting it go on so long. I was being…selfish. I thought I could have something for myself.” He shook his head. Why did it hurt so much? Why was his heart aching like this?

Mason tried to soldier on. “I shouldn’t have started anything with you. Sam…Sam was alive, at least. Remember when we first met? You told me that he had hurt you. He had hurt you, but you still loved him. I should have settled for just being your friend. It was selfish of me to just take you away like that, when you already had somebody.” It was true, so true. He had just been feeling lonely, and now Emerson had paid the ultimate price. “I’m so sorry for doing it like this. It’s not fair to you, and I know that no amount of apologizing can make it any better.” He completely ignored how Emerson looked. That…that was too heartbreaking, and Mason knew he had to be strong. If he was strong, then he could get through this. He could make Emerson see the truth. “I love you Emerson, and that’s why I have to do this. I have to let you be free. You can do whatever you want now. I won’t tie you down.”

If Mason had really stepped back and looked at the situation, he would have realized. It was painfully simple, but never seems that way when you’re in the heat of things. It was everything h had done, everything that had happened to him. Mason had gotten used to being the smart one. Being right. Maybe he had even gotten too smart for his own good. That was enough to cloud his judgement, to delude himself into thinking he knew what Emerson was feeling. Thing was, Mason wasn’t all-knowing. He didn’t quite grasp that concept yet, and it was his biggest flaw. Not to mention the way Emerson made him feel. Alive, that was the biggest one. With Emerson, Mason felt normal. Like he was an actual person, and not just the shell of one. With Emerson, he had hope. Hope that maybe he would get better. He could go home and see his family again. Mason needed to let Emerson go, because it would be just as good for him. He could realize. Remember that he was dead, and didn’t have anything left. All he had were books, and they couldn’t mask things for long. Eventually he’d come out of it. That’s what Mason hoped, anyway.

He just didn’t quite realize how wrong he was.

“You have to stop this,” Mason said quietly. Emerson moved away, which gave him a little more room to breathe. “It’s not healthy for you to be so…attached. I can’t give you anything.” But Emerson wanted him. Emerson had said so. Could people fake things like that? Was Emerson that good at acting? Mason knew he wasn’t. That was how he had found out about the…the incident. Emerson couldn’t lie to him, not when something this important was concerned. So was he making a mistake? Did Emerson actually…need him? The thought made Mason feel special. He was a good person. He had somebody who needed him. But…

But Emerson didn’t need him. Not really. That was just the shame talking, the pity. He’d realize soon enough. Maybe one of the other ghosts would help him. Or a patient. Yeah, that would be nice. Then they could have their own fantasy. Fantasies were good. That was why Mason spent so much time reading. It allowed him an escape. He could pretend to be a hero, or an explorer, or any number of ridiculous things. It was like a movie, but better. So much better. But now wasn’t he getting off track? He just had to make Emerson see the truth.

If (and when) Emerson finally realized what was going on, then things would be okay. Right? They had to be. And Emerson couldn’t pretend forever. People weren’t built like that. Or maybe they were. A strict set of conditions…no. No. But how could he make Emerson realize? “I’m not leaving you,” Mason promised. That was the truth. He wouldn’t-couldn’t-just shut Emerson out. “We can still be friends. But you don’t have to pretend to love me anymore. I get it. And I’m okay with being alone. It’s how I always was. You don’t have to feel sorry for me anymore, okay?” He reached out and took one of Emerson’s hands. This had to work. It had to. “I understand. I forgive you.”

emerson-shmitt:

Emerson listened while Mason talked. He understood everything he was saying and felt the same way. He hadn’t seen his body on the gurney, no, but he definitely did miss Mason even if he was right next to him. How did something like that happen? How was that even possible? It was that stupid wall that was between them. All because of Emerson’s death. His stupid mistake. Mason hadn’t so much as flinched when Emerson touched him and that nearly broke his heart. His sweet Mason was so distant. His love. He had to fix this if it was the last thing he did because how they were now was not working. This wasn’t how forever with the person you love was supposed to go.

Taking a deep breath, Emerson let Mason’s words soak in. He was scared. Okay. It was hard to believe. Okay. He didn’t know how to get around it. Alright. Emerson honestly felt horrible Mason had seen his dead body. He never wanted that for Mason. Emerson reached up and touched Mason light on his face again, then toyed with a strand of hair as he weight everything his boyfriend’s words. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. I wish the locked door had been enough to keep you out. It was just…it was all an accident. I keep thinking its all dream and that I’ll wake up tomorrow alive and encased by a weak body that I loved to torture…..that I’ll wake up and be able to make you smile again. Because lately I can’t even seem to do that.” Squeezing his eyes shut, Emerson tried to keep the tears in his eyes from stinging. Mason’s smile made everything better, it always had, and Emerson felt like he hadn’t smiled in so long. A real smile, not a fake one. He deserved to smile. He looked so happy when he did.

“And Lord knows I’ve missed you too,” he admitted, “but I’m still here, Mason. I may not be…alive or anything…but I’m here. Nothing about me has changed. Except, you know, I’m dead. Once this…whatever this is between us…is over I’m going to be the same person no matter what. Except I don’t know how to fix what is wrong with us. I don’t even know what is wrong with us.” He cuddled Mason closer, wrapped his arms around his shoulders and turned his head so that his lips pressed against his hair. “I don’t think you understand how much hearing what I mean to you makes me happy-at least a bit happier than I’ve been-and I can’t fathom how important you are to me. I need you Mason. So much. How can I fix this? I can’t..make myself undead for you. Without you close enough, though, I don’t really want to be happy. So you say my death scares you? This tension with us is scaring me; it scares me every minute of every day.” He kissed Mason’s temple and tried to shove aside the tension he was terrified of.

Emerson let himself relax, tried to forget that he was dead, and attempted to open himself up to being affectionate with Mason. He was comfortable with Mason; or he had been. He had to get that way again. In fact, Emerson actually needed it. He needed Mason like a drug addict needed drugs. He needed him like a girl who just had her heart broken needed chocolate. Mason was his home now. He couldn’t survive without him. Not like surviving was an issue but still. It would be a painful eternity without Mason. So Emerson set aside the past event that shook their relationship and made Mason lay down with him. He cupped his face, stroked his thumbs back and forth, admired the baby soft skin and smiled softly at him. “You know I love you, Mason Fisher. If I have to bulldoze the wall that wedged itself between us to get to you and what we had then so be it. I’ll do it.”

Emerson stroked a hand down Mason’s torso, squeezed his hip bone to keep his attention. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he finally stated, “Why are we keeping ourselves so distant? You’re not…angry at me, right?” He prayed that wasn’t the answer. He couldn’t take it if Mason was angry at him. “We’ve been through so much, Mase…we got over a lot….we can get over this, right? We have to.” Emerson bent his head and nuzzled into Mason’s neck, gently pecked his lips to the skin and sighed. They had to get over this. “You’re what I want,” he whispered, “what I need…”

This couldn’t be the end of it. They hadn’t gone through the fire and flames only to be stopped by something stupid like this. Especially when it was such a blessing. Mason didn’t want to say so, of course, but that’s what he thought. Now, nobody could take Emerson away. He wouldn’t get better, or be transferred. They could be together forever, and of course he was being too stupid to see past the death. How had Emerson gotten over it? They had found out at the same time, of course, but it was different for Mason. Deep down, he had always known what he was. Emerson…this was entirely new territory for him. He hadn’t even thought that Mason was dead. This could be fixed though. Things would be okay. Right? They had to be. If not…Mason didn’t know what he’d do. He couldn’t go incorporeal, not after everything that had happened to him. He also couldn’t just force himself to move on.

Or could he? Mason didn’t exactly know how the whole ghost thing worked. He was so terrible at it to begin with. Was there anything he could do right? Reading didn’t count. That just pulled him away from people, closed him off. So…did he actually have any talent? Any special characteristic? Emerson was the only good thing, the best thing, to happen to him. If he lost Emerson, he’d have nothing. Nothing.

Suddenly, an eternity was starting to feel like a very long time.

You stupid bastard, he thought, you stupid, hopeless bastard. He shouldn’t have come back. That wasn’t exactly his choice, but there you were. He should have just died and gone on to…wherever. Mason didn’t believe in all that crap. Belief made people do stupid things. In that moment, he realized that he had retreated back into his head again. It was so easy to get lost in his thoughts. There were so many, and he couldn’t do anything except think…pathetic. Hopeless. Stupid. That was him.

The touching still felt good, even if he knew he didn’t deserve it. But Mason still couldn’t get past it. Emerson was dead. Emerson wasn’t going to go onto college, and he wasn’t going to see his family again, or any of his friends. He wouldn’t be able to do any of the things he wanted. And that was Mason’s fault. It had to be. He was the one who had fallen in love with Emerson. Emerson probably just felt some obligation to be with him now. He wasn’t even the first. There had been Sam, and…who knows else. Anybody had a better claim. Mason relaxed into Emerson’s touch, but it didn’t bring him the same contentment it used to. “It was my fault,” he said dully. Might as well own up to it. “I heard the nurses talking. I…had to see for myself. I wanted to make sure, and now…” He shook his head slightly. How could he break it to Emerson? He wasn’t a good person. Emerson deserved better. So much better. Mason just didn’t know how to give it to him. Maybe one of the other ghosts would know? Louis and Lucas had been in the same situation, for a little bit. How did they get through it?

Alone. The word had never seemed so big before. But Mason didn’t have any other friends, nobody he could really trust. His last attempt at…reaching out had been met with violence. That had been his fault though, the fight with Sam. Everything was his fault. It was all starting to make sense. He was entirely to blame, for everything. It had been him all along. He reached out to Emerson, he brought him up to the roof, he hadn’t realized he was dead. How could he have been so stupid? It was pathetic, completely pathetic.

“I don’t want anything to change,” he murmured. Deep in his heart, he knew that wasn’t true. The only thing left to do was let Emerson go. He’d be able to see that, right? Once Mason explained it, Emerson would see. He’d realize that this whole thing was wrong, and they couldn’t be together. Mason felt guilty, guilty that Emerson had to die before he realized it. He couldn’t spend eternity with Emerson. The thought hurt, but he smiled a little. He could get over the hurt. He had forever to do it. But how would Emerson react? All the little things he was saying…oh, God, he would be crushed. Completely. Mason didn’t know if he had the heart to do that, not after the last time he had tried to leave Emerson. At the same time, he couldn’t stay trapped like this forever. It wasn’t fair to Emerson, to have him go through all of this.

Poor Emerson. He’d be hurt when Mason finally told him. And all his declarations of love weren’t making anything easier. So…wasn’t it time to ask if this was what he really wanted? Mason followed Emerson’s movements, lying down and curling into his side. All the touching, all this…physically it felt good. Comforting. Safe. But Mason couldn’t forget his idea. It was his fault. His fault Emerson was dead. Emerson thought he was in love. It was a mistake. All a huge mistake. How could he tell Emerson that? How could he even begin to make him understand? Mason let his eyes fall shut, and he nuzzled into Emerson’s side. Pathetic. Weak. He couldn’t even look at Emerson. But it had to be said. “Is this what you really want?”

Mason shifted slightly, glancing up at Emerson. “I’m not…I’m not good. You deserve someone better, someone who can love you the way you deserve. This…it’s hopeless.” He wanted to fix it. He couldn’t let Emerson go. “I don’t think I can get over this. I just…I can’t Emerson. You need someone better.” He had to. Emerson had to see. He deserved so much better than Mason. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that you had to find out like this. After…everything that happened.” It was terrible. So terrible. He wasn’t a good person. Emerson deserved better. How could he still be with him after this? “I wanted to fix it, I really did. But you need someone you deserve. Not…not me.” He was broken. Stuck somewhere between the living and the dead. He couldn’t even be a proper ghost. He didn’t have any other friends. He had nothing to give to Emerson, except his love. And even that wasn’t enough. He’d give Emerson the world if he could, but he couldn’t. That’s why he had to let go instead. He had to make Emerson leave, so he could be better. He could have a better…afterlife. Anything was better without Mason in the picture.