The MRS Diaries

Prologue

Disclaimer this is not my story, this was written by Alice_not_in_wonderland on archive of our own I just bought it here so Wattpad users can enjoy this amazing story

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Steph let her mouse hover over the file. Did she really want to open this? Matt had given her permission a little over a week ago, but with Ollie and videos and events it never felt like the right time. Even now, with Matthew finally asleep (the fact that it was out of sheer exhaustion more than anything else failed to escape her, but asleep was progress) and Ollie staying with a babysitter for the afternoon, she feels uneasy opening the documentation to what was quite possibly (definitely, if the nightmares are anything to go by) months of her husband's life.

Matthew. She remembers the day he came back like it was yesterday, the phone call she had received from an unknown number in Pennsylvania and only answered because she was desperate for any information as to where her husband had disappeared to. The apprehensive voice of a nurse on the other end speaking of a John Doe that just happened to have the same face and outfit he had been wearing the night he had left, promising to be back by midnight and then vanishing into thin air. She remembers the exact moment his eyes opened to look into hers, unfocused and wild and broken, and she realized for as similar as he looked to the man she had lost that night, the man that returned wasn't the same Matt.

She had begged him not to go, her mind whispers traitorously. They had theorized about the slaughterings together, tucked into each other's side while poring over news articles and interviews. The information on each one was practically nonexistent, most forums and websites filled with speculation instead of fact, but Game Theory was never quite known for giving up so they found what scraps of information each article had and tried to figure things out anyways. They had theorized, they had researched, they had done it all together so when he got the letter they both knew . She remembers the way she grabbed at him, one hand resting on her abdomen and the other clutching his hand as she begged him not to leave her, to stay, but then Rosanna had called Matthew and she knew Matthew well enough to know that for him, there wasn't a choice anymore.

With a deep breath, Stephanie opens the file, letting her headphones connect to her laptop and turning up the sound. Whatever had happened in those dark weeks, Matthew has given her permission to know. He is far from being able to tell her, not when he can barely say the names of those who didn't make it without slipping into a full-blown panic attack, but he has given her his heart (again) and trusts that she won't let it shatter.

The folder itself seems inconspicuous. It is simply titled "MRS" which makes little sense on its own, but she knows that Matthew trusts her to figure out anything that she needs to know. The file opens to a series of videos, all of which filmed on Matthew's phone. She opens the most recent file, one dated just a day before he uploaded the file to her computer and gave her permission to look through it.

"Hey Stephanie," Matt says, and her heart clenches at the dark circles under his eyes. It's evidently nighttime, and he's tucked into a corner of the recording closet with Skip by his side. "You're asleep right now, actually. I think Ollie tired you out."

He pauses to scratch Skip under the ear. "Course, it could be because it's two in the morning." His hand reaches up to tug through the matted curls of his hair, and for a moment his eyes look off camera, glazing over. Skip rubs up against his leg, bringing him back to the moment, and the smallest of smiles tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"I probably should've given you these a while back. It's just-" He struggles a bit with what to say, his hand pausing in carding through Skip's fur, much to the cat's dismay. "It doesn't matter. Not anymore."

He breathes a little self-deprecating laugh, eyes darkening as his head ducks down. "The videos are…weird. I think the files were screwed up a bit because of Ever-" he inhales sharply, eyes scrunching shut, before exhaling a shuddery breath and letting his shoulders drop back down. "Everlock. But the videos play well enough and I labeled them, so you know what order to watch them in."

He moves to turn off the camera, before stopping just short of the camera. His eyes, though guarded, are filled with an intense sort of warmth that makes her suck in a breath through her teeth. "Love you, Stephanie."

"I love you too, Matthew," she lets herself whisper, feeling a thread of something fragile and yet strong tug around her heart before the screen goes black. She blinks back a sheen of what might be tears from her eyes, scrolling down to find the first video that Matt had taken, one that dated to the day that he had left.

The video opens with a blast of sound that makes her lower the volume of her headphones with a wince. As the ringing in her ears subsides, she feels her throat tighten.

She never realized how much she missed listening to him sing.