Storms To Weather - M. Shadows fanfic

Part 4 - Healing

The ground was sodden, but he knelt anyway. His clothes were already clinging to his body from his walk in the rain, what was a little more wetness? He fumbled in his pocket for the little silver cat ornament he'd brought along, and set it atop of the granite.

"It's been a while," he whispered, running his fingers along the curled up cat. "I brought this along for you, I know it was one of your favourites," he smiled, sitting himself down. He leaned back against the stone, closing his eyes as he rested his head back. Sometimes he tried to imagine he was leaning against her back, the way they used to sit sometimes as she would get lost in a book and he in penning lyrics. Flecks of rain hit his face today though, keeping him locked into the present. He sighed, his fingers running through the blades of grass at his sides, "A whole fucking year. A whole year of loneliness."

Except, that wasn't completely true, was it? His friends had been there when he'd let them in, and he'd even made a new friend in Mariana, but none of that was quite the same as Elizabeth's company, of course. That was what he'd been missing. Her soft fingertips against his cheek, her sweet, earthy scent of her Jo Malone cologne, her love of houseplants despite the fact that she'd seldom remember to water them. Matt had been so grief stricken when she'd passed that any that had survived her poor standard of care had quickly withered away, just as their owner had.

"I miss you every day," he announced, opening his eyes. They wandered over the stones that surrounded him, so many of them old and weathered. Lizzie's stone would be that way one day, so worn that her name would barely be visible. Would the same happen to his memory of her? Would she one day be a blur of a face from the past? No. No, she wouldn't, he decided firmly. "I'll always miss you, but I'm doing my best to get by, just like you wanted. How the fuck am I supposed to actually live though, Liz? I don't get it. I tried googling it once – how long it would hurt for. I know, that's so dumb, right?" He laughed frustratedly. "God, I always fucking moan when I'm here. Perhaps I should change the subject."

He shuffled round the stone to face her name. Tracing his fingers over the letters, he felt a smile run over his lips.
"I made a new friend. You'd be proud, you always said I was antisocial," he teased, raising an eyebrow. "Remember Zach had a sister who lived in Florida? She came home. I haven't seen her since we were kids, before I even met you." He dropped his head as his fingers fell from the stone to his side. "We've hung out a few times. We usually end up cleaning the house – I'm not sure what that says about my life. She's really nice, though. You'd have liked her." He chuckled, "But then, you liked everyone. Always tried to see the good in them. Even that blonde psycho that Jimmy dated. You were so fiercely protective, though. Remember when they had that big argument, and then you called her a trout? A trout."

He suddenly found himself laughing loudly, uncontrollably, the sound that bellowed from his lungs resonating loudly around the cemetery. It sounded weird to him, almost alien, to hear such a positive noise being produced by his own body so freely.

"Jesus," he spluttered, running a hand through his soaking hair as he tried to get himself under control. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like this. It seemed like a distant memory. He was actually having difficulty stifling it. "Now I look insane," he complained through his snickering.

"Yeah, a little," came a second voice from behind him.

He jumped at the sudden intrusion on his private moment, whirling around and peeping over the stone. He came face to face with Brian and Heidi, arm in arm, taking shelter under a large umbrella, peering at him with concern. Heidi had a large bouquet of white lilies streaked with deep pink tucked under her other arm – Elizabeth's favourite.

"Matt!" she scolded, "You're soaking. You'll get sick."

"I'm okay," he protested weakly, realising just how wet his clothes had become. "I didn't think to bring an umbrella."

"Are you okay, bro?" Brian asked, his face still lined with worry.

"I'm fine, honestly," Matt insisted, sitting up onto his knees. "I was just... talking to Liz. Which is maybe weird actually."

"It's not," Heidi smiled, nudging Brian who was still frowning. "It's sweet. I was going to have a chat with her too. What were you talking about?"

Matt grinned, the memory nearly setting him off into a bout of laughter again, "That time she called The Psycho a trout."
Brian's face cracked as he guffawed, "She was a trout, though. It was an accurate description."

Heidi slapped his arm, "Oh, stop it, you two."

"You have to admit, Hei, it was funny," Brian insisted, watching the smile developing at the corner of her lips. "And then she stood there opening and closing her mouth, and she actually did look a bit like a trout."

Heidi giggled. "It was a little funny," she admitted. She pulled the bouquet out from under her arm and held them out to Matt. "Here, these are for Liz."

"She'd have loved them," he smiled, laying them on the grass in front of the grave. "I'd better go home and dry off."

"Don't let us interrupt your time with Lizzie. We can come back later," Brian offered, but Matt shook his head firmly.

"You want a lift?" Heidi asked, looking over his dripping clothes.

"I'm already wet," Matt shrugged, "I think I'll survive another fifteen minutes. Thank you, though."

He gave them a little wave and sauntered away in the rain. They watched him go until he'd disappeared through the cemetery gates.

"You think he was okay?" Brian asked, turning to his wife.

Heidi smiled, looking into his dark eyes, "Actually, he seemed better than he's seemed in a long while." She tilted her head in thought, "Don't you think things have been a little different lately?"

"I guess," Brian shrugged, giving it some thought. "He actually answered my message the other day. Normally he leaves me on read," he scowled.

"What a hard life you lead," Heidi teased. "Now, let's do what we came to do."

The pair stood together at Lizzie's grave, huddling under the umbrella, a quiet sense of gratitude washing over them as they leaned into each other.







Matt closed the door on the drab day, glad to be out of the rain. He climbed the stairs, stripping his wet clothes off and tossing them as he went, not caring where they ended up. As he stepped into the bathroom, he stripped off the last item and set the hot water running in the shower.

He emerged ten minutes later, clean and warm, and towelled himself off. He couldn't remember the last time he'd so willingly participated in tending to his personal hygiene. As he dressed himself in dry clothes, his phone chimed with a message. He pulled a tee over his head and wandered onto the landing to find it.

It had somehow survived sitting in the sopping wet pocket of his jeans, much to his surprise. He wiped off the screen and hit the lock button. A message from Mariana flashed up, and he eagerly opened it, his curiosity ablaze.

Hope you're okay today. Call me if you want to hang. I thought we could do something for Lizzie if you felt up to it?

Matt's eyebrows crinkled with curiosity. He was feeling surprisingly okay as it went, but it seemed poor taste to purposefully spend time with someone else on a day like today. It had been one whole year since Lizzie had taken her last breath; an anniversary of the unwanted variety. He thought of her tumbling waves of fiery red hair which she knotted on top of her head and her beaming smile as she fed him bites of perfect homemade cake. The sound of her laughter, the tone of her delicate voice as she spoke to him. The way her beauty radiated from every pore, even as she had laid in bed, to weak to answer him anymore.

Don't stop living just because I have to.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard on his phone screen as he reread the message over and over. He took a deep breath and felt his heartbeat pound in his ears as he finally tapped out a message.

That actually sounds like a good plan. Come on over.

He hit send, an odd feeling of calm settling around him. Doing something for Lizzie seemed like a nice idea. Why shouldn't he go out and celebrate her memory? What would be the point in staying home and moping? Lizzie wouldn't have appreciated it, that was for sure.








The doorbell rang out, signalling the arrival of Mariana. Matt opened the door with a smile, to find her on the other side, holding her bag over her head to take shelter from the rain.

"Did you walk?" he asked, taking in the spiked tips of her long jet black hair that she'd not quite managed to cover.

"Zacky keeps his keys stashed away somewhere secret since I drove his car," she replied sheepishly.

He stepped aside with a chuckle to let her in, "I see."

"How are you doing today? You seem in good spirits," she asked, looking him up and down.

"I'm alright," he nodded. "I went to see Liz this morning and it wasn't quite as heavy as I was expecting. I'm not sure what that means."

Mariana gave him a warm smile, "It doesn't mean anything, Matt. There's no right or wrong way to get through something like this, right?"

"I guess," he shrugged. "I just thought that perhaps I should be feeling sadder. I feel kind of guilty for not lying in bed all day and hiding from the world."

"Give yourself a break," she replied, playfully nudging him. "You're showered, you're ready to go. Do something awesome in her memory. That's as good an activity as any for today."

Matt screwed his face up, "What do I do though?" There was no manual for grieving, no handbook for surviving the death of a loved one. There certainly wasn't an activity sheet for a death anniversary. He looked at Mariana for any suggestions.

"What did Lizzie love?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in encouragement.

"Baking," Matt answered confidently with a nod. She waited for more, so he looked around hopefully, as though something might just jump out at him. As it so happened, things had been left the way she'd arranged them all that time ago, and so things did jump out at him. The painting on the wall that she'd acquired from a local artist, the bundled collection of scarves hanging near the door that she'd endlessly felt the need to add to, the small, sometimes hideous, ornaments that adorned every surface. Finally his eyes fell on the brown, lifeless leaves situated in a small pot in the corner.

"I know what I want to do," he smiled, grabbing a hoodie and pulling it over his head. He pulled a second one down and tossed it over to her. "Why don't women ever wear coats?"

"Because we thrive on stealing them from unsuspecting men," she quipped, adding a quick "thanks" as she pulled it over her head. It was ridiculously oversized on her petite frame, but she looked rather sweet for it. "Where are we going?"

"Garden centre," he answered, leading the way out of his front door.









They'd strolled around the aisles of blooms and the jungles of leaves for quite some time when he saw it, and now, nestled between them in the car was a leafy shrub peppered with orange flowers. It had felt like fate when he'd come across the tag; Busy Lizzie (Impatiens)

He'd plucked it from the display and turned the pot in his hands, looking at it from all angles. There were a variety of colours, but in the middle of them all had been an eye-catching burnt orange, reminding him so strongly of her hair.

Mariana had appeared at his side and given him a blinding smile. "Perfect," she'd beamed, cementing his decision to buy them.

She admired the pot between them, running her fingers over the leaves. "So, what should we do now?" she asked, pulling her feet up and crossing her legs as she looked over at him. "You said she loved baking, how about getting cake somewhere?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know," he paused, looking away. "There's only one bakery I'd ever go to, and it's closed now."

She placed her hand delicately on his arm. Her touch felt so genuine, her big emerald eyes looking up at him with such earnestness as she nodded. He felt the sudden tenseness ease off almost immediately when she didn't shy away from his emotion.

They'd spent a couple of hours together here and there since New Year's Day, usually when her mom was sending loaded Tupperware over to try and feed him up and she'd stop in for a coffee. Sometimes she'd breeze around with a broom or settle at the sink with the dishes, others they'd just sit at his table and chat about whatever came to their minds at the time. Never once did she back away from the subject of Lizzie when he got upset, instead talking him through his tears with the same light chatter that she always did. It was a refreshing change from people rushing to his side, desperate to stop the uncomfortable display of emotion that they weren't sure how to deal with.

His hand wandered up of its own accord, coming to rest over hers. He caught the nervous flutter of her lashes as their skin touched and his breath caught in his throat. He pulled his hand away sharply, snapping his palms onto the steering wheel as she went back to fiddling with the leaves on the plant between them.

"I know where to go," he announced, breaking the charged atmosphere between them.

She recovered almost instantly and gave him a dazzling smile, "Lead the way, Sanders."






Matt pulled in, parking at the kerbside. Mariana peeked out of the window and raised her eyebrows in delight.

"Ice cream?" she grinned. "I could go for ice cream. I'm fancying cookies n' cream."

He laughed, "I'm a birthday cake kind of guy myself."

They stepped out of the car and strolled into the parlour together, Mariana leading the way. As he fell into step behind her, he found himself revisiting the sparked touch between them, wondering why it had stirred something within him.
As they approached the counter, she turned and flashed him a beaming smile, and he found himself beaming back.

"I've been back in Huntington for, what, two months now?" she said, looking back at him, "And I still haven't been here yet."

"Seriously?" he asked, tilting his head. "Lizzie used to make me come here all the time."

They paused to order a tub each, Mariana also indulging in every topping available.

"What was her favourite?" she asked as they watched their frozen treats being scooped into little purple tubs.

Matt smiled, knowing the answer without even having think, "Moose Tracks."

"Oh yeah," Mariana nodded eagerly, "That's a good choice."

With each of them now clutching a tub of ice cream, Matt led them over to a table in the large window. They slipped their hoodies off and took their seats. They sat opposite each other, each digging into their dessert with enthusiasm.

"Lizzie always chose this window seat," Matt smiled, watching Mariana scoop a spoonful of ice cream from her tub. The toppings were escaping at every opportunity, and the table was quickly becoming littered with sprinkles, chopped nuts and chocolate chips as she lifted the spoon to her lips. Matt turned his attention to the street outside. "She liked to people watch," he continued, enjoying the scene playing out in his mind as he remembered the redhead pointing people out with her spoon and make up outrageous stories about them.

"It sounds like a good combination of activities," Mariana offered, giving him a nod. "Eating ice cream and people watching." She joined him in staring out of the window at the people passing by. They continued their daily lives, completely unaware that there were two strangers who were gawping out at them.

"I haven't been here since..." he trailed off, though she knew exactly what he meant. He looked over at her, coming face to face with her green eyes staring over at him. Her dark lashes framed the shades of emerald perfectly as she smiled and set down her spoon.

"A big moment then, right?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He nodded. "For sure," he answered slowly, dropping his own spoon down to his tub. He rotated the tub in his hands, suddenly losing his appetite. The ice cream turned in his stomach, leaving him with a nagging nausea. He tried to swallow the feeling away, but it stayed fast, making his heart race uncomfortably. What was he doing here?

"Are you okay?" Mariana asked, looking over at him with concern. "You've gone pale."

Without a word to her, he stood abruptly and staggered out of the shop, his breathing ragged. She jumped to her feet, tailing him out to the alley that ran to the side of the building.

"Matt," she called, coming to a halt at his side.

He bent over, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel the barbed teeth of anxiety snapping at him as his skin prickled uncomfortably with sweat. Mariana crouched down in front of him and looked up into his eyes.

"Hey," she pressed, reaching her hands up to his shoulders, "look at me. You're okay, you're okay." She squeezed his shoulders gently, trying to get him to focus on her. "You're safe," she reminded him softly, "it's just a feeling and it will pass. Slow breaths."

He tried to match her breathing, as she spoke softly, keeping his mind on the present. He felt the tears prick at his eyes as his legs trembled beneath him. Giving in to the weakness, he let his knees give way until he was kneeling on the floor, level with Mariana. She kept her hands on his shoulders, giving him soft spoken words of encouragement as he levelled out his breathing. He was embarrassed to find that his eyes were leaking tears profusely, but Mariana didn't seem to mind. Instead she fell quiet as he got himself under control and looked up at her through his brimming hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry," he uttered, wiping at his eyes ashamedly. "I don't know what happened."

"Don't apologise," she insisted, "nothing happened."

"I'm a fucking mess."

"You're human," she argued, giving him a gentle shake, "and there's nothing wrong with feeling this way."

He shook his head. "I'm confused about everything," he replied, searching her emeralds for something, though he wasn't sure what. He sighed deeply, "What the fuck are we doing down here on the floor?"

"I'm not sure," she answered, looking amused.

He wrapped his fingers around her arms and lifted her with him as he stood. She swayed a little on her feet as she regained her balance, her fingers tightening on his shoulders as she steadied herself. He felt his heart flutter at her touch.

"Sorry," she apologised quickly, pulling her hands away from him awkwardly. She gazed up into his eyes to find him looking at her with an odd expression on his face. "Are you okay?"

He pressed his lips together as he looked at the raven haired woman in front of him who still had a look of mild amusement on her face. "Do you think I'll ever love anyone again? Do you think anyone will ever love me again?"

Her smile faded, but she didn't even hesitate as she answered, "Of course they will." She paused for a moment before giving him a strange look, "They're already out there, dude. And you'll find them, when the time is right."

"When will that be?" he pressed. "Years? Decades?"

"Jesus, Matt," Mariana laughed, shaking her head. "It'll be whenever you're ready. It could be in a decade, it could be tomorrow," she shrugged.

He took a little step back from her, suddenly becoming aware of their close proximity. It was still raining outside, though neither of them had paid much attention as he'd rushed out and she'd followed, and they were both now looking bedraggled. As her hair gave into its natural wave and her clothes clung to her slim figure, she looked quite beautiful. Could it be today?

He shook the thought away, guiltily thinking of Lizzie's smiling face as he turned his attention back to the ice cream parlour that they'd fled so hastily. "We should go back in," he remarked, running a hand through his wet chestnut locks.

"Our ice cream's probably melted by now," Mariana replied, raising an eyebrow, but she led the way anyway.

Matt followed behind, wrapped up in his very conflicted thoughts.

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