title: fragmented like glass.

summary: their puzzle pieces are cut and destroyed and maimed, and they don't fit anymore. MacySchrader.

rating: T, cause I tend to say "fuck" a lot.

pairing: MacySchrader, some Schrader/Sara


From a very young age, Macy learned that friends didn't exist.

There's always the selected few she allows to hang around her during lunch, but with the exception of them, there aren't many who can say that they know Macy Williams.

Macy thinks maybe (just maybe) it's because she doesn't let herself open up. That she pushes away and brings up walls.

But that's impossible because she's fucking Macy Williams, and she's perfect.



Macy's seven when she meets Schrader Jones. His hair falls into his left eye, and his smile stretches across his cheeks.

(He's kind of maybe perfect, just like her.)

He slides his lunch box into the seat across from her, placing his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

"I'm Schrader." He says somewhat proudly, but Macy can feel the floor beneath her trembling from his jiggling foot.

"Did I ask?" She responds, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together tight.

"I just thought you might want someone to sit with." Her heart pulses against her chest, and he's so very close that she can feel heat radiating off his body.

"Well, you thought wrong."

But still, she doesn't get up to leave. Neither does he, but she never really expected him to anyway.


"I think we should date." He tells her one lazy summer afternoon. They have a twisted friendship based on snarky remarks and bitter insults, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

Macy laughs.

"Why would you think that?" She responds (what she means to say is 'what took you so long?').

"Well... I don't know. We'd be good together, don't you think?"

She turns to him, sun slanting into her eyes and blonde hair spilling over her tanned shoulder.


Just 'No'. No explanation. He doesn't push it.

But his heart fractures like glass.


It takes one year, two months and a week for Schrader to get Macy on a date. It's the proudest fucking day of his life, he might add.

She's sick of his begging, but she's also a little sick of saying no.

So Macy turns to him sharply and hisses, "If I say yes will you leave me the fuck alone, Schrader?"

He nods eagerly and she runs her fingers through her hair, tugging at her scalp. He darts a hand out to lace around hers and she freezes temporarily, but-

her pinky curls around his, nails lightly scraping against the skin.

(Schrader thinks that this moment is absolutely, positively amazing.)


Schrader finds that Macy is jealous, possessive and controlling. She doesn't like his friends, and she can scream at him for hours on end without a break. Macy accuses him of flirting with Sara and he calls her obnoxious and demanding.

They look at each other, eyes wet and voices hoarse. She'll push her bottom lip into a pout, eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry." She hisses, low and quiet.

"Is it that hard for you to say?" He teases, nudging her in the side. Macy flinches away, but a smile pulls at the corners of her mouth.

She lets her head fall on his shoulder and looks up at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Can we go back to loving each other?" She asks, tongue poking between the gap in her two front teeth. Schrader lets his fingers dash across her cheekbones lightly.

He knows&She knows that they're not exactly happy, but they've always been good at pretending.


He thinks their happiest when they've escaped from anger and fights, and they're sitting cross legged on the grass with a picnic spread out in front of them.

She grins at him (her smile, a Macy smile) and offers a slice of bread coated in cheese. Chuckling, he accepts it and shivers when her nail runs along his skin.

Food, clothes and basket are discarded and the rest is forgotten in a rush of loving&need&desire.


Macy leans against the cool metal of his locker, shoulder bumping against the frame.

"Do you like her?" She spits, looking down as he pulls a History textbook from his the rack of books.

He sighs. It's been a routine lately; fight, scream, kiss&makeup.

(But her lip gloss is smudging and he's tasting a lot like those peppermint sticks Sara carries around with her.)

"Who, Mace? Who is it this time? Sara? Or maybe Lena? Or, ooh, Chip?" Her eyes narrow into aqua slits.

"You know who, Schrader."

"Oh, Voldemort?" He winks, pushing an elbow into her side. Macy flinches away, body tensed up tight.

"Don't fucking joke with me."

Fuck. He knows this is serious, now. There's a sense of finality around her, and her hands are situated on her hips. Fuckfuckfuck.

What'd he do this time? Was he too close to Anabeth? Maybe he accidentally brushed fingers with Kristen.

Whatever it was, he was fucking screwed.

"Who, Macy? Who are we talking about?"

She steps closer, eyes boring into his. She isn't screaming, which unsettles him. Instead, her eyes are watering and her clenched fists are shaking.

"Rhonda the Retard."

Schrader almost laughs. Macy is mad at him over Rhonda the Retard? He pushes past her and into the open hallway.

"That's it?" She screeches after him, voice echoing around the walls. "You're just going to walk away from me?"

"You're so fucking ridiculous!" He whirls around, and all he wants to do is kiss her but he just can't.

"Fine! We're over! Screw you, Schrader!"

(She doesn't mean it. She doesn't mean it. She doesn't mean it. She'll be back before tomorrow. She'll come crawling on her hands and knees. You'll be Schrader&Macy again, the golden couple.)



She hasn't come back.

Macy hasn't come back.

Oh god, he fucking misses her.


If someone asked Schrader right now what his favorite color was right now, he'd say Macy. Macy with brassy blonde hair that tumbles just so and big blue eyes that could convince him to do anything. If you asked, he would say that what he missed most about her was her smile. Secretive and shy, a glint of perfectly straight teeth.

Nobody bothers to ask, though.

Of course.


He looks at her like she's crazy when Macy first suggests playing a prank on Rhonda. She's linked pinkies with Sara at their cafeteria lunch table, Chip playing with his salad across from them. The space in front of her is empty, and Schrader can't help but think she's getting ohso thin as the days go on.

She rolls the sleeves of her shirt up (it hangs off her like it's ten sizes too big- she bought it last week) and begins tapping her nails against the table- a sign that everyone has to stop and listen to her.

"What are we doing for Halloween this year?" She asks, after clearing her throat. Sara and Chip exchange a nervous glance, and Schrader can see Chip's Adam's Apple bobbing against the skin on his throat.

"What do you mean, what are we doing? Aren't we just trick or treating?" Sara's voice is nasally, and she taps a painted nail against the thin metal of her headbrace tentatively. Macy laughs and flips her hair.

"Don't be a fucking loser, Sara. We're not going trick or treating. That's dumb." Sara's eyes flicker down to the floor, and Schrader wraps his fingers around hers under the table.

(this isn't good, this isn't planned. Sara doesn't feel warm and soft, doesn't smell like apples.)

"What about a prank?"

He's pretty sure everyone's heartbeat quickens.

"On who?" Chip dares to ask, still picking at the lettuce leaves in his dish. Macy crouches down low, shoulder bones sticking through her skin and her shirt.

"Rhonda the Retard." The hisses out Retard like it's a curse, satisfaction spreading across her face.

Schrader stares straight at her, trying to catch her eye with his, but she's locked gazes with Chip.

God, she's doing it again. She's daring them to speak up. So of course, everyone shuts their mouth and goes back to eating (or not).


Macy's pulling off her mask, and so is Schrader. Sara shakes her hair free, adjusting her head gear, to the left of them while Chip staggers over to Rhonda's unconscious form. She looms down close, uncertainty flicking across her features for a split moment

Rhonda wakes up, scrambling away in fear before they stop her. Macy makes some remark about it being a good prank, but Rhonda's sobbing, tears running down her dirt encrusted face and Schrader does what he does best. He holds her tight, ignoring Macy's death glares.

She's jealous. Fucking jealous, despite the fact that they've been broken up for four months.

Macy gives him one final pointed stare before storming off into the woods to clean up.


He hears her scream and his heart freezes in his chest. He knows, deep down, that this isn't a prank, not again, and that something's wrong. Macy, his Macy, is in trouble.

Schrader's leaving Rhonda and searching&hoping that maybe...

She collides with him, panic painted across her face. Her fingers lace with his instinctively, and she tugs on his hand.

They're running, and Sara's getting pulled away. Macy screams, but Schrader grabs her shoulders and they keep running.

His vision is becoming fragmented now, splintering off into roots and branches. He tightens his grip on Macy's hand as the zombies come closerclosercloser.

Rhonda's in the elevator and ohGOD his last chance. He remembers that it can only fit three people safely, and he's planning on shoving Macy in before him (because it's not worth living if she's not there) but Rhonda's going up.

She's fucking leaving them there, with zombies approaching. They come at all angles, bodies tilted to one angle as if there's pressure on one shoulder.

Macy's nails leave red welts in his hand, but he honestly couldn't care less.

(They die together, and it just seems right. It's a twisted fucking fairytale, but they're together at last.)

a/n: Come on. COME on. You ALL saw the sexual tension between them, don't front. So there are like six stories in this fandom, but whatever this was too much for me to handle so i got on my computer and i was all "TYPETYPETYPE". And seriously? Schrader and Macy SO had a thing. You can't deny. Just saying.