Emma Watson Oneshots and Imagines Book Two

Death

(Time to cry!)

It all started when (Y/n) and Michael were driving home from a Lakers game. Everything was a blur as soon as a car hit theirs, and after that everything was different and everything had changed.

Emma was mess and her heart was broken. She would spend her days sitting in Michael's room and just looking at all of his stuff, not daring to move any of it. She had also gone through many of the family photo albums, and seeing his smile broke her heart because she would never see it again in person, she could only see it in pictures.

(Y/n) had blamed himself for everything that had happened. If he wasn't driving, or if they had taken a cab like Michael told him to, he would still be here, and his family would be happy.

Emma would still set up three plates for breakfast and dinner, often realizing her mistake once (Y/n) corrected her, and today was one of those days.

"Em, you set up three of them." He pointed out, and she looked at them. "Yes I know. One for you, one for me, and one for...one for Michael." Emma told him, remembering her mistake, and he shook his head. "He's not here.." He explained, and Emma stopped what she was doing. "Right. He's not here anymore." She whispered with her voice cracking before clearing the third plate and putting it back, tears falling down her cheeks furiously as she put it away.

(Y/n) had followed her into to the other room and enveloped Emma in a tight hug, letting her cry into his shoulder. He just held her in his arms while she sobbed for a while, rubbing her back softly.

Eventually she stopped crying and went back upstairs, walking into Michael's room. She picked up a Spider-Man toy he had gotten from a carnival and just held it in her hands, knowing it was one his favorite toys when he was younger, and still kept it out often. She glanced over at where his pillows were to see the orange and white stuffed cat she had gotten him before he was born sitting on his bed, and she burst into tears again.

"Hi." (Y/n) announced his presence, sitting next to Emma at the foot of the bed. "I know you're hurting Em, but maybe you should see someone?" He suggested, and she shook her head. "I'm fine." She responded, looking back down at the stuffed toy. "No you aren't, you still set up three plates and spend all your days up here crying. I know you miss him, I miss him too, but you need to just talk to someone who would understand." (Y/n) told her, but that clearly wasn't the right answer.

"Someone who understands?! Nobody does! He was my son! My baby boy! And now he's dead! He's gone! And he's never coming back! How is anyone supposed to understand? He was my whole world (Y/n), and now I'll never see him again all because of some idiot who drove while drunk! It's not fair! I didn't even get to say goodbye! You two left before I got back from set! I didn't see him at all that day and only to find out he was dead when I got that call from the hospital that night! It's not fair! Why did it have to be him? Why did you have to go to that stupid game? He didn't deserve what happened! Now he's dead and he's not coming back." She shouted, getting all of her anger out before crying again.

"This is why I think you should talk to someone, to let your feelings out and talk to a professional." He soothed while rubbing her back, and pressing a kiss onto her forehead. She sniffled and rested her head on his shoulder, nodding her head. "Is that a yes?" He asked, and she nodded again. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and they sat on the edge of Michael's bed for a little longer.

"Come on, let's go have some dinner." (Y/n) whispered, taking her hand and pulling her up before they left the room. It certainly wasn't going to be easy, but Emma would try her best to move on from her sons death, and (Y/n) would be there to support her every step of the way while he tried to move on as well. They would have each other to support them, and while nothing would ever be the same, they could try their best to be happy, because they knew that's what Michael would've wanted.