Folie à Deux [Yandere Guardian x Abused Female Reader]

1. The Funeral.

A/N = authors note.
Are prefaced by this A/N, and are always in bold.

Y/N = your name.

L/N = last name.

Y/F/C = your favorite color.

E/C = your eye color.

H/C = your hair color.

S/C = your skin color.

Warning! This book contains some extremely dark subject matter. If you are sensitive to mental illness, gaslighting, paranoia, suicide, I recommend that you stop here as the book will only get more intense.

I do nothing by half-measures. This book is no exception. I wanted to write a book heavy about Shared Psychosis or Folie à Deux. I based the elements of this book on real cases, and as such, this book is not sugarcoated in regards to the phenomenon.

With that in mind, please do not come after me if you find the content of this book upsetting. This book may not be for you, but the controversial themes are intentional and I do not want you to report this book just because you disagree with the disturbing elements in it. It is just a story that I am writing for fun, and I do not want to deal with unnecessary troubles.

With that abnormally long disclaimer out of the way, I would like to thank you for continuing with this book. I hope you enjoy it.

~J. C. Coltt.~

. . .

Folie à Deux
[faw-lee a -dœ]

(Meaning 'madness for two'), is a psychiatric syndrome in which symptoms of a delusional belief, and sometimes hallucinations, are transmitted from one individual to another.

. . .

The autumn sun shone down brightly, without a single cloud in the sky. Y/N found the weather deceptively cheerful for such a somber day. The mourners gathered around the freshly dug grave, dressed all in black, shielding their eyes from the bright sun as they took turns saying their final goodbyes to the young man beneath the earth.

When Y/N's turn came she just stood at the foot of the grave, staring at her best friend's name carved into the headstone as her mind tried to comprehend that his body lay there too. Her eyes traced over the words again and again, Sean O'Dargan a wonderful son and light of many lives, trying to understand.

Trying to understand that her best friend was gone forever. Trying to understand why he had left her all alone in such a cruel world. She screwed up her face, attempting to keep from crying, but tears still slid down her cheeks. She closed her eyes, unable to look at Sean's grave side by side with all the others.

She wanted to scream, whether out of anger or pain she wasn't sure. She missed him, more than that, she needed him. She was always being picked on in school for being quiet, if she hadn't become friends with Sean she never would have lasted as long as she had. He was the only person who she trusted in her life, what was she supposed to do now that he was gone?

"Why did you leave me behind?" She sobbed, for once not caring about what the people around her thought, her sole focus on the grief building up in her chest. "This world is so cruel and heartless without you in it." She whispered. The sun luminated the green grass and the trees beginning to burst with autumn color, but it all looking graey to her without Sean.

"You loved it when it would rain," She said smiling through the pain as she recalled her friend's excited grin whenever it would begin to rain. He always seemed so happy and carefree, had it all been a lie? "I'd want to stay inside but you'd always make me come out and play with you in the puddles - I guess it's fitting that you'd be put to rest on a sunny day." She said with a bittersweet smile.

"Goodbye, Sean," she murmured, tracing the cool headstone with her fingers, and before she straightened up and walked away, using all of her resolve to keep from screaming up at the sky in anguish and loneliness.

. . .

Over time, most of the people left until there were just two figures left in the cemetery. Eamon O'Dargan stood at the foot of his son's grave blankly. He wasn't crying as the grief he felt cut much deeper than what could be expressed through any amount of crying.

He felt strangely numb, as though his body was not his own, like he was just a spectator observing someone else's life. The past few days he felt as though he had been moved about outside of his out control, as though he was nothing more than a lifeless marionette. It had all felt like a surreal dream that he would wake from at any moment, but as he stared down at his son's name carved into the stone it began to seep into his bones that this was a dream that he wouldn't wake from.

More a nightmare than a dream, the worst nightmare imaginable for any parent; the death of their child. He just wished he knew why? Why his son took his own life? He had done his best to be a good father, he loved his son and was happy to talk to him and listen to his problems whenever he could. Maybe he hadn't been around enough? He had taken on more work ever since he split from his wife. Maybe Sean wanted to live with his mom instead of him, even though she said that she was 'too busy' to even stay for the entirety of her own son's wake?

He hadn't even noticed that he had started crying until he felt a steady hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Eamon," he turned and looked into the face of his longtime friend and counselor for his son, Julien Ross. "How are you holding up?" He asked gently.

Eamon opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't find the words. What was he supposed to say having just put his teenage son to rest?

Julien gave his friend's shoulder a light squeeze, trying to communicate without words that he didn't have to force himself to say anything or put on an act, not for him.

"I can't imagine what you're going through," he said, his dark blonde eyebrows furrowing as his graey-blue eyes clouded over with empathy. "I would be destroyed if I lost Rowan or Sky," he reflected, think about his six-year-old son and his newborn daughter.

"But just know that I'm still here for you if you need anything," He continued, turning his attention back to the silently grieving father. "So please, don't hesitate to reach out if you need someone to talk to."

"Thanks, Julien," Eamon spoke for the first time since the wake as he locked eyes with his old friend and hesitantly embraced him.

"No problem man," Julien replied, patting his back before he pulled away. "It's what it means to be friends."

A/N

So that was the first chapter. A bit unusual to start a book of at such a low place but, I assure you, it is necessary for the unique course of this plot.

I would love to hear your thoughts on the first chapter, and

Until next time I'll see you on the other side

~J. C. Coltt.~