924 AF1.1 - (y/n)'s POV

I follow Emerald down the hall to her office. My body still felt slow and heavy. I still couldn't believe my eyes. Am I really following Emerald or is she just a delusion? It feels like I'm following a ghost.

It's been a rollercoaster ride, to say the least. From believing she's real to having to come crumbling down to following her down the hall to her office, unsure if she's actually real. I analyzed the way she walked, the way she carried herself, trying to find a discrepancy that would tell me she's a hallucination, but there was none. The sound of her feet hitting the ground, the faint scent distinct to her, everything was familiar.

"How did you sleep last night?" Emerald slowed her pace to walk beside me. She stared at me intently with curiosity in her eyes.

"Um... Good...?" The words left my mouth awkwardly. While my body wanted to believe Emerald really was walking next to me, my brain had shut the idea out. My mind was waiting for the woman to suddenly disappear into thin air as if she never existed. "I think they gave me some kind of sleeping pill..."

She nodded. "Did you take Thorazine?"

The word "Thorazine" pierced my ears like an arrow. I feel myself grit my teeth at the mention of the antipsychotic. I silently nod.

As we continued to walk down the hall, I recognize Dr. Arc's office as we pass by her door, indicating Emerald's office is just around the corner. Will it be bare or will it be furnished just as it was the first time I had entered? We rounded the corner and I stood in front of the office door, waiting for her to open the door.

"(y/n)?"

I turn to Emerald, who was farther down the hall, waiting for me to follow. I turn to her with a confused expression while pointing at her office door. "But..."

"Ah." Emerald gave me a knowing nod. "Since Dr. McCauly retired a few days ago, it was decided that I'd take his old space.

I stare at her in disbelief. "What?"

Emerald points down the hall. "It's down that way..." She continues to stare at me. I stare back with confused eyes. "Are you OK?"

"It... just moved?"

Emerald scratches the back of her neck. "Yeah... I'm still unpacking boxes, so don't mind the mess."

I turn back to the nameless door. "It just moved..."

"(y/n)? What's going on?"

I turn back to the doctor, still unsure of her existence. "I... I came by this morning... Everything was gone..." My hand shook as I remember the scene of the door opening to an empty room.

Emerald looks at me with a sympathetic frown. "Sorry about that. I should've put a note up on the door."

"But... You are real, right?"

_____

Third Person POV

Emerald opened her mouth to speak but paused when she saw (y/n)'s lost expression. "Y-Yeah... I'm real." At this point, she realized why (y/n) felt the need to touch her hand earlier. The man must've felt like he'd lost his mind the moment he saw her old office cleared out. Emerald mentally kicked herself for causing it.

"I thought..." (y/n) looked down at his feet and shook his head. "I thought the Thorazine kicked in and I had just been imagining you this whole time..."

Emerald cringed as she listened to (y/n)'s reasoning behind his strange behaviour earlier. She extended her hand towards (y/n), palm facing him. He nervously reached out and touched her hand, fearful of the possibility her hand, and by extension, Emerald herself would disappear and seize to exist. (y/n)'s hand shivered at the warm sensation at the point of contact. 

"I'm here, (y/n)." Emerald watched as his shaky hand slowly became flush with her own. "I'm sorry."

A fragile smile grew on (y/n)'s face as he slowly accepted Emerald's existence. "My best friend thinks I'm crazy now..." He managed to force a light chuckle. "Well, still thinks I'm crazy."

Emerald nodded, still plagued by the guilt from causing him unnecessary pain. She stood there silently, unsure of what to say. The thought of leaving a sign on the old office's door never crossed her mind. Most times a tech would escort a patient to a doctor's office. She wouldn't have expected one to set out to find them on their own. "I apologize (y/n)..." Emerald furrowed her brow in sympathy. "I hope I haven't lost your trust..."

(y/n) looked up at Emerald's eyes, slightly surprised by her apology. Usually, she'd try to avoid apologizing since it wasn't really her strong suit. Whenever she'd get into a fight with Mercury, Emerald would almost never apologize to him, even if she was wrong. She's always been stubborn. (y/n) assumed the apology came from being a professional in the workplace, especially when your job requires you to handle fragile minds.

"No..." (y/n) shook his head. "No, of course not... It's just..." He took a deep breath and squeezed Emerald's hand one last time before releasing it. "I'm relieved..."

Emerald analyzed (y/n) for a moment before heading to her new office. A typical adult who suffers from schizophrenia is often characterized by a lack of emotional expression, but after spending a few hours with (y/n), it was clear he was very expressive. Of course, this doesn't negate the diagnosis completely. Emerald simply took the information and stored in the back of her mind.

The two made their way to Emerald's new office. She opened the frosted door and invited (y/n) in. The moment (y/n) stepped into the office, he immediately picked up on the familiar hickory smell and breathed it in. The smell was comforting. The large bookshelves were set up behind Emerald's desk while the books were still in the process of being moved onto the shelves. Boxes of books sat next to the half-empty shelving units. (y/n) couldn't help but smile at the small Ursa Grimm figurine that stood on the corner of Emerald's desk.

"If it's too messy, we can take this somewhere else." Emerald offered.

"No, it's fine." (y/n) made his way to the chair across from the doctor's desk and took a seat. "I like it." For him, seeing the familiar environment was soothing, even if it was in the midst of being unpacked.

Emerald nodded and took a seat at her desk. She pulled one of the drawers open and pulled out (y/n)'s file. She popped the folder open and placed it on the desk. "How are you feeling?"

(y/n) gave a small smile. "Better than I was five minutes ago."

Emerald nodded, still feeling the residual guilt from earlier. "The blood tests from yesterday came in. It seems they're clear of drugs, so we can rule that out." Emerald said as she silently eyed over the contents of (y/n)'s file. "Which also means we're leaning towards a form of psychosis."

(y/n) silently nodded, knowing talking back or denying it wouldn't convince Emerald these memories weren't a delusion. He'd have to hope she'd realize this eventually.

"I'd like to quickly test your awareness if you don't mind."

"Sure."

"Alright." Emerald pulls out a piece of paper and hands (y/n) a pencil. "Draw me a clock."

(y/n) nods and takes the pencil from Emerald's hand.

"And label the numbers one through twelve."

He nods again and gets acquainted with the feeling of having a pencil in his hand again. It's been too long since he's held one. (y/n) takes the paper and quickly draws a circle and labelled the numbers on the face.

Finished, (y/n) put the pencil down and slid the paper towards the doctor. Emerald picks it up and stares at it curiously. "What's wrong?"

Emerald peeks over the paper to see (y/n) looking at her confused. "Nothing. You have good awareness."

(y/n) tilts his head. "Is that strange?"

Emerald nods and places the paper down. "It is, actually. Most people who suffer from some form of psychosis tend to bunch the numbers together. It's often quite hectic."

(y/n) shrugs. "Maybe it's not psychosis."

Emerald made a small face in response. (y/n) showed a lot of signs of someone who was affected by schizophrenia. Delusions, strange ideations, flights of ideas. The only issue was that his awareness was to the standard of any other healthy adult.

Emerald slid the paper back to (y/n). "Here. Keep this. I'd like you to draw as we talk." Art was always a window to the mind. People who suffered from schizophrenia often had wild imaginations. They would draw strange and frightening creatures varying from monsters with no eyes to a fish with legs. At times, people who were paranoid would illustrate very religious figures. The drawings would usually reflect what they see in their delusions. Emerald was curious about what (y/n) would draw.

"What do you want me to draw?" (y/n) picked up the pencil and brought the paper closer to him.

"Anything you want." 

"Anything?"

"Anything. Whatever you draw won't leave this room. Express yourself any way you wish."

(y/n) smiled and twiddled the pencil in his hand. If anyone hung around him long enough, they'd know exactly what he'd start drawing. (y/n) quickly got started on a sketch.

"I'd like you to tell me about these memories. When did they start?"

(y/n) knitted his eyebrows as he concentrated on his drawing. "Um... I don't think there was a definitive starting point to these memories. At least not one I can remember. As far as I know, they've always been there. I didn't really think it was strange until I was six or seven. Around then was when I realized I had these memories, unlike anyone else."

Emerald nodded as she picked up her clipboard to start jotting down notes. "Can you describe them? How detailed are they?"

(y/n) stayed silent for a moment, concentrated on a large sweeping line he was sketching onto the paper. "They're... I don't know. They vary. Some are intense and vivid while some are fuzzy and mundane. They feel like any other memory, I guess. It gets confusing sometimes... Like trying to figure out which ones I experienced in another life and not this one."

Emerald furrowed her brow. "How do you keep track of your current reality?"

(y/n) laughed a little as he stopped to scratch the back of his neck. "Agh... With notes, I guess... It's usually the morning memories that are the hardest to keep track of. It's like being super groggy and trying to straighten your bearings." (y/n) tapped the pencil on his chin, trying to find the words that would accurately describe the sensation. "My current reality is... more defined than the other memories. There's a flow to them. The memories from past lives are like snippets, y'know? Kinda like snippets of time with no context." He scratches the back of his neck again. "Does that make any sense?"

"I think so." Emerald quickly wrote some notes down as (y/n) turned his attention back to his drawing. "What are most of your memories about?"

"You." His eyes didn't leave the paper.

"Are they always about me?"

"No... but I remember those ones better."

Emerald nodded. "Why don't you tell me some of your memories then?"

(y/n) stopped drawing and looked up at the doctor. Emerald became slightly tense after seeing the adoration within his eyes. "You know those willow trees in the forests of Anima? The ones hanging over rivers?"

"The ones that look like rising smoke?"

"Yeah." (y/n) nodded before sketching some more. "At night, we'd spend hours on those trees laying on the leaves and staring up at the shattered moon. I'd teach you about the constellations and you'd pretend to be interested when in reality you just took the opportunity to sleep on my shoulder. You'd ask me to tell you a story about a constellation, so I'd tell it. By the time I finish a story, you'd be fast asleep." (y/n) chuckled a little. "You always said you liked the sound of my voice."

Emerald adopted a confused expression. She couldn't imagine herself sleeping on anyone's shoulder. (y/n) already demonstrated he knew things about her, but Emerald was pretty sure she wasn't the cuddly type. She'd admit (y/n) was rather attractive and... he had a nice voice... But she was pretty sure that wouldn't get her to cuddle. The proof started to add up in favour of delusional misidentification. Emerald started to worry about (y/n) becoming heartbroken if he realizes she couldn't be what he wanted her to be. "Please, continue."

(y/n)'s glance jumped between Emerald and his drawing a few times. "I uh... I have these memories that go back thousands of years and different realities. We've met in so many time periods. We've led tribes and rallied thousands of people together. Funnily enough, we almost never really understood each other." He chuckled. "But we'd still be drawn together."

Surely (y/n) had to understand how absurd these memories were. "Tribes?" Emerald questioned, but he didn't flinch.

"Yeah. During the times of constant war against the Grimm and years before the discovery of Dust. You had wolf pelts draped on your back and had tales of my people. Your tribe always considered my people falcons." (y/n) laughed. "Makes sense though. We wore these big feathered decorations and were fast and agile in battle. We even trained falcons for hunting and scouting."

"You don't find any of this odd?"

(y/n) shook his head. "Like I said, I have these memories that go back years into history. Some are mundane and others are elaborate. You once ruled your own kingdom, y'know?"

Emerald was stumped. (y/n) spoke and had the awareness of a healthy adult. How could he not see how absurd all of this was? 

(y/n) looked up and caught Emerald's confused face. "I know how crazy this sounds but... this is what I remember. Your kingdom was at war with Vale once. I was eventually sent over to Vacuo as a peace offering and your dad made me your personal guard. A way to show trust, I guess. Eventually, you ended up taking over his throne."

Emerald sat silently as she watched (y/n) continue to sketch. "Why don't you tell me a mundane memory?"

(y/n) let out an amused puff of air. "Like what? Waking up in the morning?"

"If that's what you want to talk about, sure."

(y/n) grinned. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm almost always awake before you. If you don't need to wake up, you just don't."

Emerald sighed internally. She'd give (y/n) that one. She knew she was bad on her days off. Cinder would always say she needed a thirteenth and fourteenth hour on the clock if Emerald wanted to get up before noon.

"I loved those days though... We'd lie there for hours. You'd sleep sprawled out on top of me so I couldn't get out without getting you off of me first, which was almost impossible by the way. We'd pretty much be there until hunger forced us out of bed. It might as well be a tradition in every reality together." (y/n) let out a small laugh. "Then we'd make our way to the kitchen and destroy it trying to make something. Eventually, we'd give up and make steak."

"I make a great steak..." Emerald said almost unconsciously with a subtle smile.

"I know..." Emerald caught herself off guard and quickly tried to compose herself. She quickly turned away and pushed down a blush that slowly rose to her face. She realized how easily the comfortable line escapes her mouth and immediately regretted it. The last thing Emerald wanted was for (y/n) to think she wanted more than a professional doctor-patient relationship. The adoration for her was clear in (y/n)'s voice. Obviously, this wasn't a fantasy to him.

Emerald frowned behind her clipboard in sympathy. (y/n) expressed his love for the young doctor and wore it on his sleeve like a badge of honour. If he really did believe in these memories, then it means he believes they'll be together in this reality as well. A pool of guilt formed in Emerald's stomach. She didn't want to give (y/n) a false hope. Emerald cleared her throat to bring her back on track. "Continue."

If the brushing off of the emotionally charged situation affected (y/n), he didn't let it show. "Cinder would always say we'd needed a thirteenth and fourteenth hour on the clock with how long we stayed in bed."

Emerald stiffened after those words. The way he mirrored what she said in her head not too long ago unnerved her. She slowly rubbed her temple while wincing a little.

"Headache?" (y/n) put his pencil down, noticing the doctor's discomfort.

"Huh?" Emerald paused her rubbing.

"You're rubbing your temples and squinting... You uh... you do that when you get a headache."

Emerald hadn't noticed the light throbbing in her head until (y/n) brought it up.

"You OK?"

"Yeah..." Without acknowledging his accurate statement, Emerald quickly changed the subject. She still didn't know how (y/n) knew what he did, but she hoped art would be a gateway to understanding it. "Can I see what you've been working on?"

(y/n) threw down a few more quick lines before and sliding the paper to the doctor. Emerald's eyes narrowed as she scanned over the image. (y/n) on the other hand, fumbled with the pencil in his hand nervously, unsure of how Emerald would interpret the drawing.

"Is this... us?" Emerald continued to look over (y/n)'s drawing.

"In the willow trees." (y/n) confirmed.

The drawing was really well done for something drawn so quickly. Detailed shading and differing line weights brought the picture to life. (y/n) depicted the two sitting among the willow tree's leaves with (y/n)'s arm extended out, pointing to the sky. Emerald was surprised by the skilled drawing done by him. She'd never seen a patient draw something so detailed and precise. Every drawing she's seen from a schizophrenic patient in the past were more reminiscent of an acid trip if anything.

"You're... very good." Emerald's eyes never left the page. The drawing of her that was in the image was extremely accurate; a small smile was on her lips, facing wherever (y/n) was pointing and her hair gently swayed in the wind.

"I've... had a lot of practice over the years... Do you like it?" Emerald felt the guilt build up again.

She glanced up from the paper to see (y/n) watching her with hopeful eyes. She couldn't lie, the image was beautiful. She simply nodded. After looking at the image a little longer, she felt her vision start to blur. Once again, Emerald placed a finger on her temple and placed the drawing down. "Why don't we call it a day."

_____

(y/n)'s POV

I lean against the reception wall, waiting for Ruby to pick up the phone. I absently tap my fingers on the black phone while half-listening to the person beside me complaining and asking for a "Flynt" to come and pick her up.

The phone rang a few times before it was picked up.

"(y/n)?" Ruby's voice was a little hesitant. I guess the events from earlier were still fresh in her mind.

"Hey, Rubes." I feel myself smile, excited to tell her the news.

"How are you feeling?" Her voice was small and shaky. She sounded like she'd break down with a flip of a switch.

I let out a small chuckle. "Ruby, don't freak out okay?"

"(y/n)?" Ruby's voice became a little more worried. I guess when you tell someone to not be worried, they become worried.

"Em's office... It just moved. Some other doctor retired and she took his old office." I excitedly waited for a response, but Ruby was silent on the other side of the line. "I'm serious, Rubes. She's really here. The minty hair, red eyes, the voice. It's gotta be her."

"(y/n)..." Ruby's voice was still unconvinced and worried.

"I know you think I'm still crazy, and honestly, I thought so too for a while, but now... This is totally different... You've gotta meet her."

"This... isn't healthy, (y/n)..."

I let out a reluctant sigh. I wasn't expecting Ruby to believe me over a simple phone call after all. "Look, don't worry about me tonight, alright? You don't have to believe me now, but I'll prove it to you tomorrow."

"But..." I hear Ruby sniffling on the other side of the call.

"Ruby, I'm OK! I'm really OK! So... you don't have to worry..."

An eery silence sat on the line for a while.

"You're gonna get hurt again..."

_____

A/N

Another shorter chapter. Next chapter should answer a few questions (hopefully). At the time of writing this (March 25th), we're almost at 10 votes and 200 views! 

3450 words