A/N- Whoot, my first ever (completed) fanfic! It's sort of a different take of things, and there might be some OOC-ness, so... hopefully it's not total rubbish. Reviews would be awesome, too. x3

&spoiler alert!

Disclaimer- Next to Normal is way too good to be anything of mine.

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"Acceptance"

The house was too big for just the two of them.

He watched what was left of the family, the father and daughter. He watched the two of them, looking so small and empty in the large house, heard the lonely echoes of their voices bounce off the walls. Ever since Diana had left, this place, which had once been so full of energy and drama, had become... calm. No, beyond calm – boring, lifeless.

Except for that little corner, the corner Dan and Natalie occupied, quietly comforting each other and soothing over the loss of Diana, the loss of a wife and mother. That little corner, at least, was still alive. But everywhere , everything else in the house, including him...

Was dead.

He watched the father and daughter in the sparse light of the table lamp, wishing he could step closer to them. Step into their little group, in their bright little ring. He wished he could step out of the cold shadows, step out of watching from the side, and join their family in the warm light. It wasn't the first time he'd wished for that – no. In fact, that was all he'd ever wanted, from the start. Was to be part of a family.

No. Not just any family – this family, his family, the one he'd been pulled away from a lifetime too soon.

He hadn't meant any of the other things that had happened. He hadn't, really, he hadn't! He didn't mean for Diana to constantly grieve over him, didn't mean for her to see him and become mentally unstable, didn't mean to become the nonexistent focus of her attention and deprive Natalie of a mother for sixteen years, didn't mean to cause Dan all the heartbreak and helplessness of watching his wife spiral down into depression, suicide, instability, insanity.

He didn't mean it. None of it, any of it. He hadn't meant to drive them apart, cause so much trouble, cause so much pain. He'd just wanted to feel like he was part of a family.

That's all he'd ever wanted. He didn't mean anything else that happened. Hadn't wanted any of it to happen. It wasn't really his fault, was it, for just wishing, wanting, hoping? None of what had happened had been intended, after all. He'd just wanted to be part of a family, a part of their close little connection.

At first, it'd seemed like he might have fit. Diana was the first – well, really, the only – to see him. That was the first step, all those years ago, the slight shock that ran across her face...

He'd waited patiently in the months that followed that, as Diana slowly began to come to grips with his 'existence'. As she began to recognize him, subconsciously, and smile through her shock whenever he appeared to her. And then the day everything seemed to just – click.

"My boy, my little boy, you're back," she'd sobbed. "How could you ever leave us?" She ran forward and embraced him – embraced air. And she hadn't noticed the nothingness between her outstretched arms.

And he had a mother. She talked to him, scolded him, worried for him when he was out too late. She made him sandwiches, always slipping in a cookie or two for her beloved son. He was happy then – he had a third of the family he wanted. And, back then, he was satisfied with just the third, assured that the others would come around.

But after so many years, Diana remained the only one who could see him, who could sense him. He'd hovered around the house often, lurking near his father and sister, hoping they would look and and see him. But Natalie always seemed to tense up slightly with anger and sadness and longing whenever he brushed by her. And Dan seemed to recoil a bit whenever he drew close. Diana, she remained the only one who could see him.

And then that night, his eighteenth birthday. He was sure something would happen that night, when Diana came out with a cake for him as he stood to the side. He had been so sure that Natalie and Dan – and that weird boy who smelled of illegal substances and turned sappy-eyed at the sight of Natalie – that they'd suddenly notice him. And they'd be a family, a happy, normal family.

Yeah. Right. He sighed, a sigh that would go unheard by everyone but him.

Happy, normal family? Hardly. Here they were now – Mother gone, struggling with what had developed into a chronic illness, father and daughter, alone and clearly hurting, fighting to keep their little desk lamp shining brightly in the dark. And him. In his usual spot, his presence undetected, but also clearly unwelcome.

They'd made that much clear to him. The family – or, at least, the two members left of it – they didn't want him, and would do anything to be rid of all memory and mention of him. They went as far as sending Diana to that crazy rock star doctor, they ran electricity through her like she was a mere incandescent lightbulb, hid his music box, refused to mention him, wanted to send Diana back for more zapping after she began to see him again.

He'd been angry at them, at first. He'd been hurt and angry – did they hate him that much? The family he still considered to be his hated him?

No. No, it couldn't have been that. At least, not for Dan. Dan had seen him, after so long, and if only for just a few minutes. Dan had seen him, recognized him, and he'd seen no hate of him in the father's – in his father's, in Dad's – eyes. Only fear. And fatigue. And a sort of pleading in his father's eyes, asking him to stop torturing them with his insistence on existence, asking him why he had to do that to Diana.

And he understood now. They didn't necessarily hate him. Just the things he'd caused, the things he hadn't meant. And there was a difference, there was.

Yes...

There was another difference, too. It was obvious, really – he didn't belong. And all his attempts to belong had been like trying to fit a piece from the wrong box into the puzzle.

He'd tried anyway, though. He'd tried so hard to assert himself, to make his piece fit – fit, blast it! – into the family. He'd tried so hard, wishing, wanting, hoping. That was all. Surely there was no crime in that?

No. Who was he kidding? He'd destroyed his family in an attempt to become part of it. And, intended or not, all that had happened it was entirely his doing. He was the one who'd tried to force himself upon them, when it was clear he was no longer a part of them, or their community, or even their world. He'd tried, though, tried too hard. The puzzle had broke. Worse than that – it was his fault it had broke, all his fault, and no one else's.

And, despite realizing all that, he still took a tentative step towards the father and daughter in their circle of light, still holding on to a last shred of conviction that they would see him, recognize him, welcome him into their circle.

Natalie turned slowly, and then stopped to stare pointedly at a shadow. She could see him, now. The last one, she finally could. There were hints of anger in her expression, but for the most part, it was sadness, pain, pity. Pitying him?

Sister, Natalie... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just –

Her gaze was surprisingly calm, level, but still hard. "We weren't the ones who couldn't accept your death," she said quietly. "Not even Mom. It was you all along. Gabe."