Epilogue:

It was still dark when Nico woke, the world outside, only a vague imprint against the sky. His hands shook. His hands shook a lot these days, and he knew it was the medication causing it. It made it impossible to sit still for long and kept his feet, tapping at a sickening rate against the floor.

It repressed his already non-existent appetite. Coupled with all the twitching, it made it impossible to keep any weight on. He still looked as painfully thin as he ever had.

It was hard to uncap the bottle of pills. He meant to measure them out into weekly medication schedule boxes, but he never did. The box stayed empty, taunting him from its place on the top of the dresser.

He swallowed the pills dry and the bitter aftertaste lingered. The mirror hanging over the dresser caught his eye, and before he could help it, he was staring at himself.

He had never really gotten that haircut he kept telling himself he needed. He pushed the strands away from his face with one hand. The circles under his eyes had lightened, but they were still there, showing up in every photograph. Everyone he knew thought he looked better, so he should believe them.

It was easier now to rationalize his thoughts. He was able to catch himself, able to remind himself that his reality wasn't true. He found himself differing to others a lot instead of believing himself. In a way, it almost felt like memory loss, even though he remembered everything just fine. It was strange that, though this was the best, most well adjusted he had ever been, he was being treated more delicately than ever. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Nico needed it.

He spent a lot of time in the corner of his apartment, sitting in an old chair with a coloring book. The repetitive, mindless motion of pencils calmed his mind. The sound against the page calmed his ears.

It had never worked as well as self harm. It didn't scratched the same itch, and it took much longer. The recycling bin was always crowded with pictures. He never kept them. They were a physical manifestation of his stress, the color spilling over the lines because of how badly his hands shook.

Despite all the progress he was making, it didn't feel like much. He had been unable to shake his avoidant behavior. Nico hadn't been able to keep a job for more than a few months. Sometimes he was the one to leave, because he couldn't stand the "mind-melting" stress. Other times he'd been called in because he "wasn't the right fit" for their company.

It had taken him an extra semester to graduate from high school. He had never finished college. After only a few semesters at the local community college, he had another breakdown just before finals and had spent eleven days inpatient. He spent almost all his free time wrapped in the quilt from the bed, staring out the window, watching the cars.

He wanted to talk to someone about them, but Nico's roommate, Clovis, was on a kind of medication that made him extremely tired. One evening, he was awake long enough for Nico to ask about the cars.

"Where do you think they're going?" Nico wondered. His words were soft, clinging to the cold glass and fogging it over.

There was a silence, as Clovis had rolled over in bed and squinted out the window.

"Lots of places," he finally answered. Some are going home. Some are going to work...other places too...I don't know."

Nico hadn't been satisfied with such a literal answer.

"Do you think they all know?" he asked.

"I think most of them. Maybe there's some guy driving around lost."

Nico nodded.

"And after."

It wasn't a question.

"After," Clovis echoed in the same tone.

Nico wasn't sure what he wanted to say next, because "after" was a question he couldn't answer.

"Do you want to go join them?" Nico finally asked.

Clovis had half shrugged, still lying down.

"That's the goal, isn't it?"

It had been years since that day, and Nico still didn't know what "after" was. He was the guy driving around lost. He had never thought he would be so stuck, no longer a child, but still trapped in his adolescence.

He looked at his hands, still shaking, curled around the edge of the dresser. He still wore the skull ring on his pointer finger, but now he wore another ring. It was a gold wedding band. He had been married almost two years ago, but it didn't feel real most of the time. Still, it was always the memory he defaulted to when his bad emotions began to overwhelm him. The memory was so worn out by this point, that Nico was sure that most of it wasn't real anymore, but it didn't bother him. The way it made him feel was still the same: that combination of stress, giddiness and elation that pushed everything else away, and even now, made his heart beat faster.

Sometimes he thought it was the only thing keeping his life from feeling empty. His days were filled with stuff, but so little of it seemed to matter. It felt like he was subsisting out of habit, still without any goal: no "after".

In the mirror, he saw the blankets on the bed shift. A tousled mess of curly blond hair poked out from under the quilt. Nico watched in the mirror as Will sat up, stretching before realizing that he was alone. He turned his head slightly and their eyes met through the mirror.

"Your hands again?" Mirror-Will asked.

"Yeah."

"What were you thinking of?"

"I was back in highschool."

"Where?"

"Inpatient. The first time."

He revisited the day often. He was sure Will was more than tired of hearing about it.

"Want to tell me about it?" Mirror-Will said.

Nico shrugged.

"It's always the same."

"It's too early to be up," Mirror-Will decided. "Come back to bed."

Nico could see him reaching out, and so he let himself be pulled away from his own mind and back into bed. Will curled around him, and as began stroking his hair lightly, Nico knew Will was trying to help him forget about whatever he had been thinking about.

"I love you," he whispered, his breath ruffling Nico's hair.

Will reminded him a lot. Whenever Nico was upset, on days Will came home to dozens of coloring pages scattered across the floor, or these long, extended thinking sessions. Nico never doubted that Will loved him, in fact, it was one of the few things he didn't question, but it was still always nice to hear. It was the one constant in an ever changing tide of feelings. It grounded him.

"I love you too."

"You good?" Will asked.

"Not right now."

Will pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade and went back combing through his hair.

"I love you."

Eventually the hands stopped moving through his hair and Will just held him, pressed into his chest, his breath ghosting over Nico's neck. He listened to the soft sound, as it slowed, and Will dropped off, back into sleep.

Will always insisted that Nico needed to find something for himself and that he shouldn't be the only good thing in his life. And Nico had tried, but it had been hard, especially when Will was so ready to pick him back up, and take him in. Nico knew if their places had been switched, he wouldn't have been able to keep up the seemingly never ending patience and comfort Will provided.

Will said he hadn't minded, that he liked taking care of people. Nico pointed out that he took care of people all day at work. Will had shrugged and said he really liked his job.

Nico knew Will was slowing any real progress, but he was always what Nico wanted most, and in times of distress, he was always the one he reached for. In a fucked up way, it worked, but Nico knew this still wasn't the way relationships were meant to be.

"A long time ago," Nico started. He waited until Will completely woke back up to hear the rest. "You told me that all this would be worth it one day."

Will hummed, the sound vibrating low in his chest.

"When is the day going to be?"

It was a long time before Will answered. He held Nico close, his hands slowly winding their way over him, and it meant more than any words. Nico could feel each individual indent long after Will's hands had stopped moving, and it was warm and reassuring. It was calming, softening the fear building up inside of him.

"I don't know," Will finally said. "But it is coming. It'll be so gradual you won't notice at the time. One day you'll look back and that's when you'll realize it."

"I've waited so long."

"I know."

Nico wondered if Will really knew what he was talking about. It didn't feel like it right now. He didn't know what would come after or what his "after" was going to be.

He found himself saying "I wish I could see it now," like an idiot, but Will immediately hugged him so tightly there wasn't room to say anything else.

"You will," Will said, and he sounded so excited, it was easy to believe. "We'll get there."

Nico decided he did believe it. He allowed himself to hope that everything was still on it's way. He wanted it. It was there, just out of reach for now.

Until then, all he could do was to keep moving forward.

-End-

AN: That's the end. I tried my best, so I hope you enjoyed it. I just wantta say fangz to all you goffs and preps for leavn me good reviews. Ya are amazing, and I'm sure ya all look just like Gerard Way. Special thanks to everyone who left me kind words of encouragement. They did more than you realize. And, lastly, to all the readers who stuck with this absolute trash fic. Love ya all.

Haru xx