Written By Fate ||L Lawliet x Reader||

Chapter 25

Y/N stumbled into her apartment, barely managing to kick the door shut behind her. Her bag dropped to the floor with a dull thud, and she made her way straight to her desk. Her head was spinning, but she didn't care. The cocktails from earlier were doing their job, numbing her nerves, but only slightly.

She booted up her laptop and started typing furiously, entering vague descriptions of what she'd been experiencing: hallucinations, shadowy figure, seeing things others can't. Each search returned the same type of results—mental health forums, articles on schizophrenia, and medical advice pages.

Her blurry eyes scanned the words on the screen: Signs of Schizophrenia: Delusions, hallucinations, trouble distinguishing reality...

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she muttered, leaning back in her chair. Her head thumped against the wall, and she let out a frustrated sigh. She scrolled further, hoping for a better explanation, but the words all blurred together. "This can't be it. There's no way."

She slammed the laptop shut, sending a glass of water on her desk trembling. Her chest felt tight, her mind racing. Was she losing it? Could stress and exhaustion push her over the edge like this? No, it didn't make sense. This... thing she kept seeing felt too real to dismiss.

But logic wasn't winning this fight.

The next morning, Y/N woke up groggy and dehydrated, her head pounding from the drinks and the late-night spiral. She sat on the edge of her bed, holding her head in her hands. Something had to give. She couldn't keep going like this.

After staring at her phone for what felt like hours, she finally booked an appointment with a therapist.

The office was calm, decorated with soft blues and greys, and smelled faintly of lavender. Y/N sat in the waiting room, feeling oddly out of place. A magazine sat in her lap, but she wasn't reading it. Her foot tapped against the carpeted floor, the nerves making her restless.

"Ms. Y/N?" the receptionist called.

She stood up and followed them into a small, cozy room. The therapist, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, greeted her with a firm handshake and gestured for her to take a seat.

"So, what brings you here today?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands together.

Y/N hesitated. She'd rehearsed a version of the truth, one that left out the supernatural elements. "I've been... seeing things," she began cautiously. "And it's been happening more often lately. I can't focus. I can't sleep. And my job doesn't exactly make things easier."

"What kind of things are you seeing?"

She swallowed, choosing her words carefully. "A thing, creature like, it feels like I'm being watched by it. It's hard to explain. I know it sounds... crazy, but it spoke to me."

"It doesn't sound crazy," he assured her. It did sound crazy. "It sounds like you're under a lot of stress." 

Y/N nodded. "That's putting it lightly."

The therapist scribbled something in his notebook. "Do you feel like these experiences are connected to any specific event or environment? Maybe something at work?"

Y/N paused. "Maybe," she said vaguely. She wasn't about to tell him she was working on the most stressful case in the world. "It's just... overwhelming. I keep thinking it's in my head, but it's real. I know it is."

He studied her for a moment before speaking. "Stress and lack of rest can play tricks on the mind. But we don't have enough information yet to jump to conclusions. Have you experienced anything like this before?"