Fumbling Towards (Flowers and Forever) [2/2]
Part One
Despite their tendency to land themselves in life-or-death situations, things are somehow easier on the road. Brendon's so busy worrying about living from one day to the next, about not dying from an alien attack (or angry victims, or Spencer before his morning coffee), that he doesn't have time to think about who or what he had to give up to be here. Living in the hectic way that they do, time rushes past, days into weeks, weeks into months. At one point they run into Fall Out Boy again, which is great. Mostly because Panic!'s cash is starting to run low again, which means it's time to have Ryan sell some new gadget or gewgaw to Pete. Or maybe just force Pete to cough up some more dough for one of the old ones. They mostly just leave the forcible removal of money from Pete Wentz's pocketbook to Spencer, and the generally conning of Wentz to Ryan (it's the big eyes that do it, Brendon maintains, no one can really resist Ryan when he turns his big brown eyes on them and starts speaking earnestly). When the two bands part ways again, Panic! are definitely feeling flush. Seeing as how it's mid November, a band meeting is held, during which control of the money is cleverly wrested away from Ryan and distributed evenly amongst the four of them for the purpose of finally doing the Christmas shopping they've put off for so long. Once they've stopped off with Jon's family so he can check in and drop off their gifts (Mrs. Walker insists they stay for Thanksgiving, and Brendon swears he's never eaten so much in his life), they decide it's time to head back to Vegas.
It's over fifteen hundred miles from Chicago to Vegas the short way, and they have a tendency to get distracted, to take detours, so it's past the middle of December and already winter by the time they finally find themselves driving west out of Flagstaff. Jon and Brendon are singing loudly along to the soundtrack of Rent in spite of Ryan's protests that Brendon's been playing it almost constantly for nearly two weeks now. They're in the middle of a rousing rendition of 'La Vie Bohème' when Brendon gets a text from Shane that simply reads, ahahahahaha ducks. It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, and when he sends back a tentative, What, all he gets in reply is a YouTube url. Next to him, Spencer's phone chimes. When Spencer checks it, it's a text from Brent, the same url that Shane just sent Brendon, though this time it's followed up by a, You coming back soon right? Might have a situation, don't tell Cabbabies. Brendon and Spencer raise eyebrows at each other and share a look, then Brendon's leaning over the seat in front of them, grabbing the laptop out of Jon's lap. Jon offers a token protest, but then he's too busy turning and craning his neck, trying to see.
The video on YouTube is clearly one Shane shot, and at first Brendon and Spencer are too busy laughing to explain anything to Jon, though once it's played through, they turn the computer and restart the video so he can see too. It starts out showing The Cab and Brent poking around near the edge of what's probably Lake Mead, not doing much of anything. Cash wanders off to the side, out of the frame, and then, half a beat later, he's running back, dozens of Mallards chase after him, flying and running, quacking up a storm. It honestly is hilarious, and once he's made sure Jon's seen it through, Brendon turns the laptop back around and plays it again.
"I don't see why Brent thought this was important," Spencer huffs, though he's clearly suppressing a grin.
Brendon's about to reply when something catches his eye, and he automatically hits the space bar, pausing the video mid-frame. "What's that?" he asks, gesturing to a smudge in the background. When the ducks started going after Cash, Shane turned to film it better, and there's. There's something not right about that landscape.
"It's a tree," Spencer says, sparing the screen a quick glance.
"Next to Lake Mead?" Brendon clearly doubts the logic behind this.
"Someone could have planted it," Ryan says from the front. He sounds a little peeved, probably because everyone in the car except him has seen the video, since he has to pay attention to the road.
"It's the wrong shape for a tree," Brendon stubbornly insists. "Brent sent us the link for this thinking something was off. Something serious enough he didn't want to look into it with The Cab." Which, right, Brendon totally gets. The Cab are great guys, very awesome, but he wouldn't want to be Brent, running after them and trying to keep them out of trouble. He definitely wouldn't want to be Brent, trying to explain to the parents of one of the Cabbabies how their son accidentally got eaten by aliens, oops. It's a little frightening how The Cab seem to have imprinted on Brent, following him around like he's their mama duck and they're his ducklings.
Spencer chews his lip thoughtfully. "Well. Good thing we're headed back to Vegas, huh?"
"What's so weird about a tree next to a lake?" Jon wants to know. He reaches for the laptop, so Brendon goes ahead and passes it back. "Lakes mean water, water means plants, trees are plants." Brendon frowns, not following Jon's logic at first. It takes a moment for it to click, and then, yeah, he supposes Jon might think that. Sometimes Brendon forgets that Jon hasn't always been with them, that he's from back east, where they have real lakes.
"Mead is a man-made reservoir," Ryan explains, "and it's in the desert. It doesn't ever get full enough to overflow and soak the banks, so there aren't really any more plants than you'd expect to find in the area if the lake wasn't there. Plus, we've been in a drought for a while now - the water level's been dropping for years."
"Maybe it's a... droopy cactus?" Jon suggests, tilting his head to the side and studying the screen.
"Saguaros don't grow wild in Nevada," Ryan says, finally chancing a glance at the laptop as traffic hits a slow spot. "And there isn't any other species of cacti that would grow like that."
Brendon's about to put in his two bits when Spencer shushes them all because he's got Brent on the phone. There's a rapid-fire conversation, most of which Brendon misses because he's known Brent and the Smiths for years, sure, but that doesn't mean he actually understands them all the time. When Spencer gets off the phone, he huffs and tugs at his hair, clearly irritated. "Apparently there've been vague reports of a 'Loch Mead monster' over the last couple months. Brent took the kids and Shane out to look into it, figuring it was probably just another Weevil. He only caught a glimpse of it when ducks went after Cash, and that's just because he was already looking in that direction when the ruckus started, but he thinks this is big, way bigger than a Weevil. Big enough he didn't say anything, just got Shane and the Alexes out of there before they saw anything. Fuck. Why does this stuff always happen close to home?"
"Could be a rift in time and space. I think I read something about them in the classified sections of the UNIT website. There's some group in England that's supposedly studying one way up above London," Ryan says vaguely. "The whole thing sounds a little too much like a poor plot device like the Hellmouth from Buffy, though, honestly."
"Ryan. It was a rhetorical question," Spencer grinds out, and Brendon and Jon snicker at each other. Sometimes (frequently) the Smiths are hilarious.
"So, what? Are we heading to UNLV and picking up Brent, then checking out Mead? We've got enough time, right? It's only the twenty-third," Brendon says.
Spencer shakes his head. "Brent said to just head straight to the lake without him. He's finished with finals, but he's worried that if we bother to pick him up and then check this out, there's too good chance that Cash and the Alexes'll try to tag along. Seriously, Brendon, what were you thinking, telling them to get in touch him? Now he's gone all weird and protective over them." Brendon shrugs, but doesn't bother to answer, since he figures this is probably just another of Spencer's rhetorical questions.
Lake Mead is actually along the route they're currently on, so they just keep on along the forty to the ninety-three, and only a couple hours have passed since Spencer's call with Brent when they finally get there. Though Brent's reliable, knows what to look for, the guys don't expect to find much in the way of unusual anything as they get closer to the water. They make their way to Echo Bay, the campground closest to where Brent saw the whatever-it-was with Shane and The Cab. A few families are there, though not too many - it's two days to Christmas, most people want to spend the time with at home or with relatives, not freezing their butts off in the cold desert winter - and half a dozen college kids. The guys pretend not to notice the odd looks Black Belinda receives.
They really want to be further south, but it's late enough in the day that they figure screw it, they can stop now, get some sleep, be nice and rested for any hiking they have to do tomorrow. Brendon insists they build a campfire so they can roast marshmallows later, since that's what you do when you're camping. Not that he's allowed to, since the other guys have banned him from playing with fire, though he can usually get Ryan to toast marshmallows for him, if he makes big enough puppy eyes. Once they have the fire going, Spencer starts on dinner, cooking it over the fire so that they don't get any weird looks about cooking in the back of their hearse. Ryan's in a mood, so Brendon grabs Jon and goes to question the other campers while they wait for dinner. They might be lacking Brent and his thing, but people like Jon, they feel at ease around him, tend to open up. People like Brendon too, but usually because he reminds them of an annoying little brother. Brendon's not entirely pleased by this, and he tries to discourage that perception.
It seems that Brent was right about there being talk of a "Loch Mead monster." The college kids are only there because they hope to see it, which Brendon thinks is kind of weird, though Jon insists it isn't, muttering something about, "Nerdy, conspiracy theorist, anti-government college kids," and shooting them suspicious looks. Brendon and the others aren't used to people being aware and accepting of the things they hunt down. They don't say it outright, but the general consensus between them is that it's probably best that they don't admit that's why they're there too. Better to not encourage the rumors, particularly since they're not even sure if this thing (if it is real) has any ill-intentions. Some aliens just end up in the wrong place at the wrong time, like Veronica. Others, like Andy, come to Earth just looking for a place to live their lives. Though, okay, maybe Andy is a bad example of that - Brendon's pretty sure that if Andy could manage to spark an anarchical, anti-establishment movement, he would. Fortunately, Pete's enough of a handful that it probably won't happen anytime soon. Hopefully.
The next morning they tumble out of the hearse sometime around nine with packs full of water bottles, beef jerky, and these odd little devices that Ryan whipped up while Spencer was driving the other day and is currently calling "stun sticks," for lack of a better name. They wave to the college kids (a sleepy looking lot, apparently they haven't yet mastered how to make coffee over a campfire), lock up the car, and head south. Brendon pokes around a bit with his head, but either the water disrupts thoughts, or there's nothing odd living under the surface of the lake. Or maybe, it's shielded. That happens sometimes too. When he tries to explain this to the others, Ryan just rolls his eyes and mutters something about useless psychics, which Brendon feels is horribly unfair and that Ryan's really not in any position to speak, seeing as how it's not like he has any sort of psychic talent. Brendon kicks at the ground a lot and grumbles about stupid Smiths being overly-critical of things they don't really understand.
At noon, they break for lunch, and Brendon eats the last peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and Ryan has to eat the honey and marshmallow one. It is a small act of rebellion, but Brendon savors it for the victory he knows it to be. His methods of revenge are subtle, but sweet. Oh so sweet. Particularly when Brendon's used extra honey to make the sandwich, heh.
Since they're slow and boring, the others are still eating. Bored, Brendon wanders down to the water's edge to amuse himself while he waits. He's just poking around, singing to himself as he turns over rocks and examines scrubby little desert plants, when something burst out of the water, nearly knocking him over. "Um," is all Brendon can think to say as he lies on the ground, staring up into huge, grey-green eyes set deep in a mottled green-brown face that has to be at least half as long as Brendon is tall. "I mean you no harm? Please don't eat me?" he tries after a few beats, smiling tentatively upwards. He gives a small, sketchy wave.
The alien (because it has to be an alien, the only other possibility is that it's like, a dinosaur or something, which would be impossible) tilts its head to the side and makes a thrumming noise, nudging Brendon's chest with its nose. It isn't an unkind gesture, and Brendon laughs with delight, grinning up at it. He's getting vague impressions of fish rocks birds cool blue sound and Brendon knows, he knows the reason its decided to poke its head up now, with him, is because he was singing. When they get back to town, he'll have to ask the Alex that sings - DeLeon, Brendon thinks - if he was singing when Brent brought The Cab here.
"...Brendon?" a shaky voice calls from further up the bank, and Brendon grins, a thrill of happiness running through him. Ryan may complain about Brendon being useless, but he's always ready and willing to provide backup if Brendon needs it. Brendon's eyes flick to the side, and sure enough, there's Spencer, creeping along the ground, face set it a look of grim determination and stun stick in hand. From where he's standing, Brendon can't see Jon without turning his head, but he can sense where Jon is, standing behind Ryan, holding Ryan by the shoulders, keeping him from doing anything rash and foolish.
"I'm fine, it's cool, everything's cool," Brendon calls out, projecting a wave of reassurance under the words. "It just wants me to keep on singing. Who knew dinosaurs were fans of 'Rubber Ducky, You're the One'?" He grins and carefully, ever so carefully gets to his feet and resumes singing. This time, the alien thrums along with him, harmonizing.
"Plesiosaurs aren't dinosaurs," Ryan grumbles, sounding less tense, less on edge. Brendon can feel him moving closer. "Just because they were large, Mesozoic reptiles and contemporaries of the dinosaurs doesn't make them dinosaurs. They're from a completely different Superorder. Anyway, it looks like Thalassiodracon, which was a pliosaur and not a plesiosaur. Only it's too big for Thalassiodracon..."
"Ryan," Spencer says very carefully, "that's all well and good, but. What is an impossible prehistoric creature doing in a man-made lake? That thing is big enough that people should have noticed it a long time ago."
"Maybe it only just arrived?" Jon suggests. "It seems pretty harmless. At least, Brendon looks like he's having a good time bonding with it, if nothing else."
Jon's right on that account, because Brendon is having a good time bonding. He's finished the song, and the alien's lowered its head so Brendon can stroke it while he croons softly. The skin feels more leathery than scaly, and it's warm under his hand, so he's thinking this probably isn't a reptile at all. He's still picking up vague images from it, and there aren't any words, at least, none that he can really understand, but he's getting the impression that it's not because this isn't an intelligent being. "I think Jon might be onto something," Brendon says quietly, keeping his voice pitched low and soothing. "It doesn't feel angry or dangerous or anything like that. Actually, if anything, it seems a bit, well." Brendon's not quite sure how to say this.
"A bit what?" Spencer asks encouragingly.
Brendon bites his lip. "Okay, so. I know this might sound a bit crazy? But I think it might be a baby. That hatched here. Like... Okay, so it remembers a dark place? A cramped, dark place with smooth walls, only it just remembers it in a really vague, abstract way. Which, alright, doesn't mean much of anything at all, since hey, deep water is dark. But then there's a sort of... a breaking, a feeling of completion, and being able to stretch out and poke around, finally. It doesn't seem to mean any harm, it's just curious about things is all."
"Shit," Spencer groans, sounding annoyed. "You mean there's a breeding population in there? Ugh, there is no way we're equipped to handle this as we are now. You know as soon as the government or UNIT or someone finds out about this, they're going to rush over here and try to cut them up and see how they tick."
Unfortunately, this is probably true. None of them have very strong faith in the ability of the U.S. government to deal with aliens in a peaceful, non-threatening, non-invasive manner. And from what they've gathered, UNIT isn't much better a lot of the time. "Well, um. Actually? I don't think that's so much of a problem? The breeding population thing, I mean," Brendon says. "I think it's just the one. It's really... it seems lonely, and a little scared. It likes fish, and birds, and plants, they taste good. But it doesn't have any... 'friends' is the best term, I guess." The actual mental impression is more like, big thing like me good thoughts, but "friends" will work for now. "I'm guessing it's slightly telepathic - I'm hearing it better than I hear you three, like how I can hear Bob better - and it's been trying to find a- a 'mother,' or something, because its lonely, but it can't." Brendon sighs and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I guess that's not much help."
"1948," is Ryan's sudden sharp, focused pronouncement.
"What?"
"In 1948, a B-29 bomber crashed in Overton Arm of Lake Mead. The mission the plane had been on was classified, so the crash was hushed up and details weren't released until fifty years later," he rattles off. Glancing at Spencer, Ryan grins. "Remember? There was a big hubbub about it summer before sophomore year? Anyway, the official story is that the plane was studying the solar variation of the sun, but what if it wasn't that? What if it was actually transporting something top secret?"
"Like a giant, alien egg?" Brendon suggests excitedly.
"Uh, hate to break it to you? But most eggs would rot after sixty years, not hatch," Jon points out. "And I don't think the government would just leave it at the bottom of the lake if it thought it might be an alien egg."
Ryan sighs a sigh of long suffering. "Alien egg, Jon. It doesn't have to follow Earth rules. Also, the government might've assumed it was destroyed, or they couldn't find it, or they didn't realize it was an egg and not just an odd rock."
"Plus, look at the size of it, and it's still a baby," Brendon pipes up. "Elephant gestation lasts twenty-two months, while the incubation period for ostriches is, like, twice the length of what it is for chickens - large offspring often need longer periods of time to develop. Since it's clearly meant to be a water-dwelling, it probably doesn't matter that it wasn't incubated by a parent." The others stare at him, and Brendon glares. "So what if I actually listen to Brent when he rambles on about what he's learning in his classes? It's interesting stuff."
"None of which helps to answer the question of what do we're going do about Nessie here," Spencer says after a couple beats, getting them back on track. "It can't stay here - it's practically right next door to Vegas, and besides, Mead isn't meant to sustain a lifeform of this size. Plus, it's probably just going to grow even bigger - it really needs a larger body of water." He rubs his face and groans. "Ugh. We did not need this the day before Christmas. Mom's going to kill us if we don't show up tomorrow, and there's no way we can take care of this in less than twenty-four hours."
This, unfortunately, is true. Even Ryan has to admit that he needs at least two days to come up with a teleporter or a shrink-ray (the two best solutions they can think of at the moment), and even more time than that to test them so he doesn't accidentally make sushi out of Nessie (Spencer's name sticks, despite Brendon's quiet campaign for "Meady"). In the end, they resort to having Brendon try to telepathically instruct Nessie to stay out of sight of other humans and away from the shore for the next few days. He's not entirely sure how much Nessie understands, but Brendon crosses his fingers and tries to hope for the best. The drive from Mead to Summerlin is a quiet one, they're all too concerned about Nessie's fate to be much in the holiday spirit, though they try put on brave faces when they arrive at the Smiths'. They're greeted not just by Ryan and Spencer's family, but by Brent and The Cab as well, as Brent's method of distraction seems to've apparently taken the form of band practice.
"You're late," Mrs. Smith accuses when she finally releases a still-blushing Spencer from a hug (Brendon's still grinning from his; moms are awesome). "We thought you'd be here yesterday."
"Yeah, well. We had to look into something over at Lake Mead," Spencer mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. It's kind of amazing, Brendon thinks, that the Smith brothers think nothing of talking about their adventures with aliens with their parents. Of course, these are the people who raised Ryan, and Ryan's not exactly what you might call normal. Aliens probably seem practically mundane to them by now.
"You mean the Loch Mead monster?" DeLeon asks excitedly, popping up over Johnson's shoulder. "We were totally over there the other day, and we didn't see anything, but the ducks were acting weird and they attacked Cash - it was awesome! Shane caught it on video and everything!"
"Dude, it was way weird," Cash says suddenly. "Shane put it online and apparently a lot of people have been watching it? I mean, this weird guy in a leather jacket even stopped me on the street and totally quizzed me about it today! He wasn't even local! Like, English or Australian or something." He shakes his head. "Just weird."
After dinner, Brent and the Alexes play some of The Cab's stuff, and Brendon and Jon and Spencer give feedback while running errands for Ryan, who's apparently decided that a shrink-ray is the way to go. "Much easier to test and make sure I get it right than a teleporter. Besides, then we'd need a really big body of freshwater, since we don't know if Nessie can handle saltwater, and probably the only place big enough nearby are the Great Lakes, and there are way too many people near them for Nessie to be safe," Ryan explains as he connects this circuit to that one with his sonic thingamabob.
In the end, whether or not the shrink-ray works proves and entirely moot point, because when they return to the lake on the twenty-sixth, they can't find Nessie. Brendon sings himself hoarse and pushes his psychic abilities to their limits, while Ryan quickly constructs a sonar device and scans the water, but no matter what they do, they can't seem to find the alien. Ryan increases the range and precision of his sonar, and they spend the next two days circling the entire lake, but to no avail. Nessie seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet, or at least out of Lake Mead. "Maybe it found a way to go home?" Jon suggests awkwardly, patting Brendon on the shoulder as Spencer drives them away, west towards California where hopefully sun and palm trees will be enough to cheer them up (they don't expect them to be).
"Or maybe the government found it and cut it up into itty-bitty pieces," Brendon says morosely. "We should've never left! If we'd stayed, this wouldn't of happened."
"We can't know that for sure."
"It was just a baby."
Spencer sighs and reaches over to rub Brendon's shoulder. "You can't save them all, Brendon. You can only try."
Next to Brendon, Ryan makes an upset noise and scoots closer. Sighing, Brendon curls around him, glad that at least Ryan understands and isn't trying to justify their shortcomings.
Life moves on and things for the band continue as usual, if with a slightly more melancholy mood about them, at least for the first couple of weeks back on the road. After that, they're much too busy ensuring their continued survival to spend too much time worrying over might-have-beens. Still, Brendon doesn't doubt that their inability to save Nessie from whatever unknown fate befell her in part inspires Jon to suggest a couple months later that they might want to try taking a break. Cooling their heels for a bit.
Somehow, "cooling their heels" translates to getting off the road, and they end up renting a cabin in the mountains just forty minutes, an hour outside of Vegas. Brendon claims he has nothing to do with the location, and that's probably mostly true, except for how he unintentionally influences people sometimes with his brain. He needs to talk to Bob Bryar about that, honestly - it's bad enough that he's still having troubles shielding out other people's thoughts, he doesn't need to accidentally tell them what to think as well. The other guys give him indulgent smiles when Brendon tries to explain all this, how they could totally stay somewhere else - they don't even have to be in Nevada! - and Spencer pats him on the head. All of which leads Brendon to think that maybe he and Cash weren't nearly as discreet as they thought they were being last August.
They've only been in the cabin for two, three days when Brendon's phone quacks to let him know he has a new text from Cash. He'd be surprised he even gets service up here in the middle of nowhere, except they've found that they get service everywhere with the phones Ryan builds. Which is actually to be expected, what with how Ryan never does anything in halves.
Cash's message is simple - our 3rd show 2nite win - and makes Brendon smile. In his mind, it's somewhat ironic that while Brent's the one who decided to stay the course and stick to the safe path by continuing on with college right away, he's also the first member of their band to perform live. Granted, it's with another band, but still. It's the concept of the thing. Awesome, Brendon sends back, still smiling to himself. Where you playing? he sends after a minute's thought. Since they figure they'll be here for a while, they haven't bothered to tell anyone they're in the area yet. Brendon thinks it might be fun to show up at the show unannounced just because he can.
He gets the details from Cash and scrambles down off the roof of the cabin, clambering in through the window. "Hey, hey," Brendon calls out as he crashes down the stairs, "who wants to go to a show with me? The Cab's playing tonight."
"Ugh, no thanks. They're a boyband," Ryan says with shudder, not lifting his eyes from his book.
Brendon rolls his eyes. "Hate to break it to you, Smith, but we're a boyband too. C'mon, someone needs to come with me, you won't let me drive the car."
Jon lifts his head from Spencer's lap. "Well, maybe..." he starts to say, but Spencer's already shaking his head.
"We're staying in tonight," Spencer says firmly. "You and I have plans, Walker."
"We do? Oh! Right, we do." Jon smiles slowly up at Spencer, who smiles right on back. It's kind of disgusting, Brendon thinks fondly.
"Ryan, c'moooon," Brendon pleads, bouncing over to flop down next to Ryan and tug his book away from his face. "We can watch Brent play, see how he's doing on guitar. It'll be awesome, promise." Ryan holds out until Brendon reminds him that if he stays at the cabin, he's going to be stuck listening to Spencer and Jon have noisy sex all night. As this is not something that appeals to Ryan anymore than it appeals to Brendon, it proves a very effective argument.
The show is amazing, made even better by the fact that Brendon knows the band. Of course, he knows other bands too, but not like he knows this one, and besides, that's Brent up there. Wow. Brendon isn't sure if it's because The Cab are pushing him to practice more, or if he's pushing them to practice more in hopes of keeping them away from aliens, but Brent seems better on guitar than he ever was on bass, and Brendon can feel his chest swelling with pride. When the band finally finishes their set, stumbling off the stage and laughing like crazy, Brendon grabs Cash and pulls him in for a hungry kiss before he can say anything.
"Hi," Brendon says a bit breathlessly when they finally part for air, "you've gotten really good."
"You think? Dude, you should have told me you were coming, I didn't even know you guys were in the area," Cash says happily, and Brendon grins. He's flying high on excitement and adrenaline, and he hardly feels guilty when he slings an arm around Cash's shoulders and drags him off so they can catch up in private, abandoning Ryan to the rest of The Cab and Brent.
Probably. Probably Brendon's thing with Cash would've just stayed that - a thing. Normally, it wouldn't have amounted to much, since Brendon's always on the road, and Cash is still in high school and all. Only then there's the cabin. The cabin's fine for the first week, and aside from the one show, Brendon feels no need to go into town, to be anywhere other than with his band, up in the mountains.
Then the second week starts, and things start to get. Itchy. Spencer's snapping more often, Jon's starting whenever a twig snaps, Ryan's complaining about the lack of parts, and Brendon. Brendon is getting antsy from the quiet. He's used to quiet - the quiet of the inside of Black Belinda, the quiet of a country road in the middle of nowhere, the quiet of when his shields are working properly like they sometimes do, the quiet of a small town with a population of less than a hundred - but this is different. This is just the softest whispers of just a handful of other mental voices, this is quiet that goes on and on for days, and it makes Brendon uneasy and anxious.
It doesn't help when, at the end of the second week, Spencer's snapping combines with Jon's twitchiness to create a massive, explosive yelling match and Brendon and Ryan both escape the car. Ryan slides into the driver's seat without thinking. "I. Susie has a dance recital today, I think," he says shakily. "You want to-"
"Yeah, sure, yeah, I love Susie's dancing, just fucking drive already," Brendon babbles, buckling his seatbelt as Ryan puts the car in gear and heads down the mountain.
They're just intending to go to Susie's recital, but then Shane is there (he's apparently got a deal with Mrs. Smith where he films all of Susie's recitals in exchange for money and home cooked meals), and he's come straight from filming the Cabbabies Weevil-capturing activities. The only member of The Cab that has an actual car is Brent, who's got a class today, so Cash and the Alexes are sitting mostly-patiently next to Shane, waiting for Susie's recital to finish so that Shane can take them home. Brendon means to watch Susie, honestly he does, but then Cash smirks at him, and Brendon can't just let that go, because it's totally a challenge, and Brendon Urie doesn't back down from a challenge.
Jon and Spencer fluctuate between loud fights and tense, uneasy truces, and Brendon and Ryan find themselves fleeing the cabin and the mountain more and more often. Somehow, they keep running into The Cab, or Shane, or Brent, or some combination of those.
Somehow, between all the time they spend together, Brendon and Cash's thing starts to look like it could become something more. Brendon's about to say something, about to do something, to point it out-
And then May is ending and Brent's finishing his finals and suddenly they're all packing up and piling back into the hearse and heading out again, swearing to never speak of the cabin again. They're saying their goodbyes, hugging Ryan and Spencer's family, high-fiving Shane, fist-bumping the Alexes. Brendon's standing in front of Cash, trying to find the words, to work out how to say them, when Ryan steps up, grabs Cash's shoulder, and says, "Your band is getting pretty good. You find yourselves an actual guitarist instead of stealing ours, and I'll put in a good word for you with Pete."
Cash's jaw drops and he gapes. "Pete. Pete as in Pete Wentz? Dude. Dude, seriously, that'd be, wow, that'd fucking great, oh my god. I. Shane has this cousin, okay, who he says is bitchin' on guitar and who's supposed to come visit soon and is looking for a band and oh my god, Smith. Pete Wentz? You are seriously the best ever," he babbles, oblivious to Ryan going stiff when Cash hugs him enthusiastically. Glancing over Ryan's shoulder, Cash notices Brendon standing there, looking a little stunned. "Oh my fucking god, Bden, can you believe this?" he asks excitedly, and Brendon can't help but smile, because that's Cash.
"You've gotten really good," Brendon says encouragingly. "You and the Alexes. If Pete doesn't sign you, he's crazy." He gives Cash a high-five, then trudges off to the car, feeling a little glad for Ryan's intrusion on the moment. If Ryan hadn't come then, Brendon probably would've said something he'd really regret, something about feelings and forevers and things that are really, really stupid to even think in the same sentence as Cash Colligan.
Brent climbs in behind the wheel, Jon sliding in next to him, and the Smiths pile into the back with Brendon, sandwiching him between them, and Brendon relaxes. Takes a deep breath, lets it out. "C'mon," Brendon crows, slinging his arms around Ryan and Spencer and leaning forward, grinning, "let's get this show on the road." Brent laughs and starts the ignition, and they peel out of Vegas, leaving all their worries and woes behind them.
Despite their tendency to land themselves in life-or-death situations, things are somehow easier on the road. Brendon's so busy worrying about living from one day to the next, about not dying from an alien attack (or angry victims, or Spencer before his morning coffee), that he doesn't have time to think about who or what he had to give up to be here. Living in the hectic way that they do, time rushes past, days into weeks, weeks into months. At one point they run into Fall Out Boy again, which is great. Mostly because Panic!'s cash is starting to run low again, which means it's time to have Ryan sell some new gadget or gewgaw to Pete. Or maybe just force Pete to cough up some more dough for one of the old ones. They mostly just leave the forcible removal of money from Pete Wentz's pocketbook to Spencer, and the generally conning of Wentz to Ryan (it's the big eyes that do it, Brendon maintains, no one can really resist Ryan when he turns his big brown eyes on them and starts speaking earnestly). When the two bands part ways again, Panic! are definitely feeling flush. Seeing as how it's mid November, a band meeting is held, during which control of the money is cleverly wrested away from Ryan and distributed evenly amongst the four of them for the purpose of finally doing the Christmas shopping they've put off for so long. Once they've stopped off with Jon's family so he can check in and drop off their gifts (Mrs. Walker insists they stay for Thanksgiving, and Brendon swears he's never eaten so much in his life), they decide it's time to head back to Vegas.
It's over fifteen hundred miles from Chicago to Vegas the short way, and they have a tendency to get distracted, to take detours, so it's past the middle of December and already winter by the time they finally find themselves driving west out of Flagstaff. Jon and Brendon are singing loudly along to the soundtrack of Rent in spite of Ryan's protests that Brendon's been playing it almost constantly for nearly two weeks now. They're in the middle of a rousing rendition of 'La Vie Bohème' when Brendon gets a text from Shane that simply reads, ahahahahaha ducks. It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, and when he sends back a tentative, What, all he gets in reply is a YouTube url. Next to him, Spencer's phone chimes. When Spencer checks it, it's a text from Brent, the same url that Shane just sent Brendon, though this time it's followed up by a, You coming back soon right? Might have a situation, don't tell Cabbabies. Brendon and Spencer raise eyebrows at each other and share a look, then Brendon's leaning over the seat in front of them, grabbing the laptop out of Jon's lap. Jon offers a token protest, but then he's too busy turning and craning his neck, trying to see.
The video on YouTube is clearly one Shane shot, and at first Brendon and Spencer are too busy laughing to explain anything to Jon, though once it's played through, they turn the computer and restart the video so he can see too. It starts out showing The Cab and Brent poking around near the edge of what's probably Lake Mead, not doing much of anything. Cash wanders off to the side, out of the frame, and then, half a beat later, he's running back, dozens of Mallards chase after him, flying and running, quacking up a storm. It honestly is hilarious, and once he's made sure Jon's seen it through, Brendon turns the laptop back around and plays it again.
"I don't see why Brent thought this was important," Spencer huffs, though he's clearly suppressing a grin.
Brendon's about to reply when something catches his eye, and he automatically hits the space bar, pausing the video mid-frame. "What's that?" he asks, gesturing to a smudge in the background. When the ducks started going after Cash, Shane turned to film it better, and there's. There's something not right about that landscape.
"It's a tree," Spencer says, sparing the screen a quick glance.
"Next to Lake Mead?" Brendon clearly doubts the logic behind this.
"Someone could have planted it," Ryan says from the front. He sounds a little peeved, probably because everyone in the car except him has seen the video, since he has to pay attention to the road.
"It's the wrong shape for a tree," Brendon stubbornly insists. "Brent sent us the link for this thinking something was off. Something serious enough he didn't want to look into it with The Cab." Which, right, Brendon totally gets. The Cab are great guys, very awesome, but he wouldn't want to be Brent, running after them and trying to keep them out of trouble. He definitely wouldn't want to be Brent, trying to explain to the parents of one of the Cabbabies how their son accidentally got eaten by aliens, oops. It's a little frightening how The Cab seem to have imprinted on Brent, following him around like he's their mama duck and they're his ducklings.
Spencer chews his lip thoughtfully. "Well. Good thing we're headed back to Vegas, huh?"
"What's so weird about a tree next to a lake?" Jon wants to know. He reaches for the laptop, so Brendon goes ahead and passes it back. "Lakes mean water, water means plants, trees are plants." Brendon frowns, not following Jon's logic at first. It takes a moment for it to click, and then, yeah, he supposes Jon might think that. Sometimes Brendon forgets that Jon hasn't always been with them, that he's from back east, where they have real lakes.
"Mead is a man-made reservoir," Ryan explains, "and it's in the desert. It doesn't ever get full enough to overflow and soak the banks, so there aren't really any more plants than you'd expect to find in the area if the lake wasn't there. Plus, we've been in a drought for a while now - the water level's been dropping for years."
"Maybe it's a... droopy cactus?" Jon suggests, tilting his head to the side and studying the screen.
"Saguaros don't grow wild in Nevada," Ryan says, finally chancing a glance at the laptop as traffic hits a slow spot. "And there isn't any other species of cacti that would grow like that."
Brendon's about to put in his two bits when Spencer shushes them all because he's got Brent on the phone. There's a rapid-fire conversation, most of which Brendon misses because he's known Brent and the Smiths for years, sure, but that doesn't mean he actually understands them all the time. When Spencer gets off the phone, he huffs and tugs at his hair, clearly irritated. "Apparently there've been vague reports of a 'Loch Mead monster' over the last couple months. Brent took the kids and Shane out to look into it, figuring it was probably just another Weevil. He only caught a glimpse of it when ducks went after Cash, and that's just because he was already looking in that direction when the ruckus started, but he thinks this is big, way bigger than a Weevil. Big enough he didn't say anything, just got Shane and the Alexes out of there before they saw anything. Fuck. Why does this stuff always happen close to home?"
"Could be a rift in time and space. I think I read something about them in the classified sections of the UNIT website. There's some group in England that's supposedly studying one way up above London," Ryan says vaguely. "The whole thing sounds a little too much like a poor plot device like the Hellmouth from Buffy, though, honestly."
"Ryan. It was a rhetorical question," Spencer grinds out, and Brendon and Jon snicker at each other. Sometimes (frequently) the Smiths are hilarious.
"So, what? Are we heading to UNLV and picking up Brent, then checking out Mead? We've got enough time, right? It's only the twenty-third," Brendon says.
Spencer shakes his head. "Brent said to just head straight to the lake without him. He's finished with finals, but he's worried that if we bother to pick him up and then check this out, there's too good chance that Cash and the Alexes'll try to tag along. Seriously, Brendon, what were you thinking, telling them to get in touch him? Now he's gone all weird and protective over them." Brendon shrugs, but doesn't bother to answer, since he figures this is probably just another of Spencer's rhetorical questions.
Lake Mead is actually along the route they're currently on, so they just keep on along the forty to the ninety-three, and only a couple hours have passed since Spencer's call with Brent when they finally get there. Though Brent's reliable, knows what to look for, the guys don't expect to find much in the way of unusual anything as they get closer to the water. They make their way to Echo Bay, the campground closest to where Brent saw the whatever-it-was with Shane and The Cab. A few families are there, though not too many - it's two days to Christmas, most people want to spend the time with at home or with relatives, not freezing their butts off in the cold desert winter - and half a dozen college kids. The guys pretend not to notice the odd looks Black Belinda receives.
They really want to be further south, but it's late enough in the day that they figure screw it, they can stop now, get some sleep, be nice and rested for any hiking they have to do tomorrow. Brendon insists they build a campfire so they can roast marshmallows later, since that's what you do when you're camping. Not that he's allowed to, since the other guys have banned him from playing with fire, though he can usually get Ryan to toast marshmallows for him, if he makes big enough puppy eyes. Once they have the fire going, Spencer starts on dinner, cooking it over the fire so that they don't get any weird looks about cooking in the back of their hearse. Ryan's in a mood, so Brendon grabs Jon and goes to question the other campers while they wait for dinner. They might be lacking Brent and his thing, but people like Jon, they feel at ease around him, tend to open up. People like Brendon too, but usually because he reminds them of an annoying little brother. Brendon's not entirely pleased by this, and he tries to discourage that perception.
It seems that Brent was right about there being talk of a "Loch Mead monster." The college kids are only there because they hope to see it, which Brendon thinks is kind of weird, though Jon insists it isn't, muttering something about, "Nerdy, conspiracy theorist, anti-government college kids," and shooting them suspicious looks. Brendon and the others aren't used to people being aware and accepting of the things they hunt down. They don't say it outright, but the general consensus between them is that it's probably best that they don't admit that's why they're there too. Better to not encourage the rumors, particularly since they're not even sure if this thing (if it is real) has any ill-intentions. Some aliens just end up in the wrong place at the wrong time, like Veronica. Others, like Andy, come to Earth just looking for a place to live their lives. Though, okay, maybe Andy is a bad example of that - Brendon's pretty sure that if Andy could manage to spark an anarchical, anti-establishment movement, he would. Fortunately, Pete's enough of a handful that it probably won't happen anytime soon. Hopefully.
The next morning they tumble out of the hearse sometime around nine with packs full of water bottles, beef jerky, and these odd little devices that Ryan whipped up while Spencer was driving the other day and is currently calling "stun sticks," for lack of a better name. They wave to the college kids (a sleepy looking lot, apparently they haven't yet mastered how to make coffee over a campfire), lock up the car, and head south. Brendon pokes around a bit with his head, but either the water disrupts thoughts, or there's nothing odd living under the surface of the lake. Or maybe, it's shielded. That happens sometimes too. When he tries to explain this to the others, Ryan just rolls his eyes and mutters something about useless psychics, which Brendon feels is horribly unfair and that Ryan's really not in any position to speak, seeing as how it's not like he has any sort of psychic talent. Brendon kicks at the ground a lot and grumbles about stupid Smiths being overly-critical of things they don't really understand.
At noon, they break for lunch, and Brendon eats the last peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and Ryan has to eat the honey and marshmallow one. It is a small act of rebellion, but Brendon savors it for the victory he knows it to be. His methods of revenge are subtle, but sweet. Oh so sweet. Particularly when Brendon's used extra honey to make the sandwich, heh.
Since they're slow and boring, the others are still eating. Bored, Brendon wanders down to the water's edge to amuse himself while he waits. He's just poking around, singing to himself as he turns over rocks and examines scrubby little desert plants, when something burst out of the water, nearly knocking him over. "Um," is all Brendon can think to say as he lies on the ground, staring up into huge, grey-green eyes set deep in a mottled green-brown face that has to be at least half as long as Brendon is tall. "I mean you no harm? Please don't eat me?" he tries after a few beats, smiling tentatively upwards. He gives a small, sketchy wave.
The alien (because it has to be an alien, the only other possibility is that it's like, a dinosaur or something, which would be impossible) tilts its head to the side and makes a thrumming noise, nudging Brendon's chest with its nose. It isn't an unkind gesture, and Brendon laughs with delight, grinning up at it. He's getting vague impressions of fish rocks birds cool blue sound and Brendon knows, he knows the reason its decided to poke its head up now, with him, is because he was singing. When they get back to town, he'll have to ask the Alex that sings - DeLeon, Brendon thinks - if he was singing when Brent brought The Cab here.
"...Brendon?" a shaky voice calls from further up the bank, and Brendon grins, a thrill of happiness running through him. Ryan may complain about Brendon being useless, but he's always ready and willing to provide backup if Brendon needs it. Brendon's eyes flick to the side, and sure enough, there's Spencer, creeping along the ground, face set it a look of grim determination and stun stick in hand. From where he's standing, Brendon can't see Jon without turning his head, but he can sense where Jon is, standing behind Ryan, holding Ryan by the shoulders, keeping him from doing anything rash and foolish.
"I'm fine, it's cool, everything's cool," Brendon calls out, projecting a wave of reassurance under the words. "It just wants me to keep on singing. Who knew dinosaurs were fans of 'Rubber Ducky, You're the One'?" He grins and carefully, ever so carefully gets to his feet and resumes singing. This time, the alien thrums along with him, harmonizing.
"Plesiosaurs aren't dinosaurs," Ryan grumbles, sounding less tense, less on edge. Brendon can feel him moving closer. "Just because they were large, Mesozoic reptiles and contemporaries of the dinosaurs doesn't make them dinosaurs. They're from a completely different Superorder. Anyway, it looks like Thalassiodracon, which was a pliosaur and not a plesiosaur. Only it's too big for Thalassiodracon..."
"Ryan," Spencer says very carefully, "that's all well and good, but. What is an impossible prehistoric creature doing in a man-made lake? That thing is big enough that people should have noticed it a long time ago."
"Maybe it only just arrived?" Jon suggests. "It seems pretty harmless. At least, Brendon looks like he's having a good time bonding with it, if nothing else."
Jon's right on that account, because Brendon is having a good time bonding. He's finished the song, and the alien's lowered its head so Brendon can stroke it while he croons softly. The skin feels more leathery than scaly, and it's warm under his hand, so he's thinking this probably isn't a reptile at all. He's still picking up vague images from it, and there aren't any words, at least, none that he can really understand, but he's getting the impression that it's not because this isn't an intelligent being. "I think Jon might be onto something," Brendon says quietly, keeping his voice pitched low and soothing. "It doesn't feel angry or dangerous or anything like that. Actually, if anything, it seems a bit, well." Brendon's not quite sure how to say this.
"A bit what?" Spencer asks encouragingly.
Brendon bites his lip. "Okay, so. I know this might sound a bit crazy? But I think it might be a baby. That hatched here. Like... Okay, so it remembers a dark place? A cramped, dark place with smooth walls, only it just remembers it in a really vague, abstract way. Which, alright, doesn't mean much of anything at all, since hey, deep water is dark. But then there's a sort of... a breaking, a feeling of completion, and being able to stretch out and poke around, finally. It doesn't seem to mean any harm, it's just curious about things is all."
"Shit," Spencer groans, sounding annoyed. "You mean there's a breeding population in there? Ugh, there is no way we're equipped to handle this as we are now. You know as soon as the government or UNIT or someone finds out about this, they're going to rush over here and try to cut them up and see how they tick."
Unfortunately, this is probably true. None of them have very strong faith in the ability of the U.S. government to deal with aliens in a peaceful, non-threatening, non-invasive manner. And from what they've gathered, UNIT isn't much better a lot of the time. "Well, um. Actually? I don't think that's so much of a problem? The breeding population thing, I mean," Brendon says. "I think it's just the one. It's really... it seems lonely, and a little scared. It likes fish, and birds, and plants, they taste good. But it doesn't have any... 'friends' is the best term, I guess." The actual mental impression is more like, big thing like me good thoughts, but "friends" will work for now. "I'm guessing it's slightly telepathic - I'm hearing it better than I hear you three, like how I can hear Bob better - and it's been trying to find a- a 'mother,' or something, because its lonely, but it can't." Brendon sighs and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I guess that's not much help."
"1948," is Ryan's sudden sharp, focused pronouncement.
"What?"
"In 1948, a B-29 bomber crashed in Overton Arm of Lake Mead. The mission the plane had been on was classified, so the crash was hushed up and details weren't released until fifty years later," he rattles off. Glancing at Spencer, Ryan grins. "Remember? There was a big hubbub about it summer before sophomore year? Anyway, the official story is that the plane was studying the solar variation of the sun, but what if it wasn't that? What if it was actually transporting something top secret?"
"Like a giant, alien egg?" Brendon suggests excitedly.
"Uh, hate to break it to you? But most eggs would rot after sixty years, not hatch," Jon points out. "And I don't think the government would just leave it at the bottom of the lake if it thought it might be an alien egg."
Ryan sighs a sigh of long suffering. "Alien egg, Jon. It doesn't have to follow Earth rules. Also, the government might've assumed it was destroyed, or they couldn't find it, or they didn't realize it was an egg and not just an odd rock."
"Plus, look at the size of it, and it's still a baby," Brendon pipes up. "Elephant gestation lasts twenty-two months, while the incubation period for ostriches is, like, twice the length of what it is for chickens - large offspring often need longer periods of time to develop. Since it's clearly meant to be a water-dwelling, it probably doesn't matter that it wasn't incubated by a parent." The others stare at him, and Brendon glares. "So what if I actually listen to Brent when he rambles on about what he's learning in his classes? It's interesting stuff."
"None of which helps to answer the question of what do we're going do about Nessie here," Spencer says after a couple beats, getting them back on track. "It can't stay here - it's practically right next door to Vegas, and besides, Mead isn't meant to sustain a lifeform of this size. Plus, it's probably just going to grow even bigger - it really needs a larger body of water." He rubs his face and groans. "Ugh. We did not need this the day before Christmas. Mom's going to kill us if we don't show up tomorrow, and there's no way we can take care of this in less than twenty-four hours."
This, unfortunately, is true. Even Ryan has to admit that he needs at least two days to come up with a teleporter or a shrink-ray (the two best solutions they can think of at the moment), and even more time than that to test them so he doesn't accidentally make sushi out of Nessie (Spencer's name sticks, despite Brendon's quiet campaign for "Meady"). In the end, they resort to having Brendon try to telepathically instruct Nessie to stay out of sight of other humans and away from the shore for the next few days. He's not entirely sure how much Nessie understands, but Brendon crosses his fingers and tries to hope for the best. The drive from Mead to Summerlin is a quiet one, they're all too concerned about Nessie's fate to be much in the holiday spirit, though they try put on brave faces when they arrive at the Smiths'. They're greeted not just by Ryan and Spencer's family, but by Brent and The Cab as well, as Brent's method of distraction seems to've apparently taken the form of band practice.
"You're late," Mrs. Smith accuses when she finally releases a still-blushing Spencer from a hug (Brendon's still grinning from his; moms are awesome). "We thought you'd be here yesterday."
"Yeah, well. We had to look into something over at Lake Mead," Spencer mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. It's kind of amazing, Brendon thinks, that the Smith brothers think nothing of talking about their adventures with aliens with their parents. Of course, these are the people who raised Ryan, and Ryan's not exactly what you might call normal. Aliens probably seem practically mundane to them by now.
"You mean the Loch Mead monster?" DeLeon asks excitedly, popping up over Johnson's shoulder. "We were totally over there the other day, and we didn't see anything, but the ducks were acting weird and they attacked Cash - it was awesome! Shane caught it on video and everything!"
"Dude, it was way weird," Cash says suddenly. "Shane put it online and apparently a lot of people have been watching it? I mean, this weird guy in a leather jacket even stopped me on the street and totally quizzed me about it today! He wasn't even local! Like, English or Australian or something." He shakes his head. "Just weird."
After dinner, Brent and the Alexes play some of The Cab's stuff, and Brendon and Jon and Spencer give feedback while running errands for Ryan, who's apparently decided that a shrink-ray is the way to go. "Much easier to test and make sure I get it right than a teleporter. Besides, then we'd need a really big body of freshwater, since we don't know if Nessie can handle saltwater, and probably the only place big enough nearby are the Great Lakes, and there are way too many people near them for Nessie to be safe," Ryan explains as he connects this circuit to that one with his sonic thingamabob.
In the end, whether or not the shrink-ray works proves and entirely moot point, because when they return to the lake on the twenty-sixth, they can't find Nessie. Brendon sings himself hoarse and pushes his psychic abilities to their limits, while Ryan quickly constructs a sonar device and scans the water, but no matter what they do, they can't seem to find the alien. Ryan increases the range and precision of his sonar, and they spend the next two days circling the entire lake, but to no avail. Nessie seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet, or at least out of Lake Mead. "Maybe it found a way to go home?" Jon suggests awkwardly, patting Brendon on the shoulder as Spencer drives them away, west towards California where hopefully sun and palm trees will be enough to cheer them up (they don't expect them to be).
"Or maybe the government found it and cut it up into itty-bitty pieces," Brendon says morosely. "We should've never left! If we'd stayed, this wouldn't of happened."
"We can't know that for sure."
"It was just a baby."
Spencer sighs and reaches over to rub Brendon's shoulder. "You can't save them all, Brendon. You can only try."
Next to Brendon, Ryan makes an upset noise and scoots closer. Sighing, Brendon curls around him, glad that at least Ryan understands and isn't trying to justify their shortcomings.
Life moves on and things for the band continue as usual, if with a slightly more melancholy mood about them, at least for the first couple of weeks back on the road. After that, they're much too busy ensuring their continued survival to spend too much time worrying over might-have-beens. Still, Brendon doesn't doubt that their inability to save Nessie from whatever unknown fate befell her in part inspires Jon to suggest a couple months later that they might want to try taking a break. Cooling their heels for a bit.
Somehow, "cooling their heels" translates to getting off the road, and they end up renting a cabin in the mountains just forty minutes, an hour outside of Vegas. Brendon claims he has nothing to do with the location, and that's probably mostly true, except for how he unintentionally influences people sometimes with his brain. He needs to talk to Bob Bryar about that, honestly - it's bad enough that he's still having troubles shielding out other people's thoughts, he doesn't need to accidentally tell them what to think as well. The other guys give him indulgent smiles when Brendon tries to explain all this, how they could totally stay somewhere else - they don't even have to be in Nevada! - and Spencer pats him on the head. All of which leads Brendon to think that maybe he and Cash weren't nearly as discreet as they thought they were being last August.
They've only been in the cabin for two, three days when Brendon's phone quacks to let him know he has a new text from Cash. He'd be surprised he even gets service up here in the middle of nowhere, except they've found that they get service everywhere with the phones Ryan builds. Which is actually to be expected, what with how Ryan never does anything in halves.
Cash's message is simple - our 3rd show 2nite win - and makes Brendon smile. In his mind, it's somewhat ironic that while Brent's the one who decided to stay the course and stick to the safe path by continuing on with college right away, he's also the first member of their band to perform live. Granted, it's with another band, but still. It's the concept of the thing. Awesome, Brendon sends back, still smiling to himself. Where you playing? he sends after a minute's thought. Since they figure they'll be here for a while, they haven't bothered to tell anyone they're in the area yet. Brendon thinks it might be fun to show up at the show unannounced just because he can.
He gets the details from Cash and scrambles down off the roof of the cabin, clambering in through the window. "Hey, hey," Brendon calls out as he crashes down the stairs, "who wants to go to a show with me? The Cab's playing tonight."
"Ugh, no thanks. They're a boyband," Ryan says with shudder, not lifting his eyes from his book.
Brendon rolls his eyes. "Hate to break it to you, Smith, but we're a boyband too. C'mon, someone needs to come with me, you won't let me drive the car."
Jon lifts his head from Spencer's lap. "Well, maybe..." he starts to say, but Spencer's already shaking his head.
"We're staying in tonight," Spencer says firmly. "You and I have plans, Walker."
"We do? Oh! Right, we do." Jon smiles slowly up at Spencer, who smiles right on back. It's kind of disgusting, Brendon thinks fondly.
"Ryan, c'moooon," Brendon pleads, bouncing over to flop down next to Ryan and tug his book away from his face. "We can watch Brent play, see how he's doing on guitar. It'll be awesome, promise." Ryan holds out until Brendon reminds him that if he stays at the cabin, he's going to be stuck listening to Spencer and Jon have noisy sex all night. As this is not something that appeals to Ryan anymore than it appeals to Brendon, it proves a very effective argument.
The show is amazing, made even better by the fact that Brendon knows the band. Of course, he knows other bands too, but not like he knows this one, and besides, that's Brent up there. Wow. Brendon isn't sure if it's because The Cab are pushing him to practice more, or if he's pushing them to practice more in hopes of keeping them away from aliens, but Brent seems better on guitar than he ever was on bass, and Brendon can feel his chest swelling with pride. When the band finally finishes their set, stumbling off the stage and laughing like crazy, Brendon grabs Cash and pulls him in for a hungry kiss before he can say anything.
"Hi," Brendon says a bit breathlessly when they finally part for air, "you've gotten really good."
"You think? Dude, you should have told me you were coming, I didn't even know you guys were in the area," Cash says happily, and Brendon grins. He's flying high on excitement and adrenaline, and he hardly feels guilty when he slings an arm around Cash's shoulders and drags him off so they can catch up in private, abandoning Ryan to the rest of The Cab and Brent.
Probably. Probably Brendon's thing with Cash would've just stayed that - a thing. Normally, it wouldn't have amounted to much, since Brendon's always on the road, and Cash is still in high school and all. Only then there's the cabin. The cabin's fine for the first week, and aside from the one show, Brendon feels no need to go into town, to be anywhere other than with his band, up in the mountains.
Then the second week starts, and things start to get. Itchy. Spencer's snapping more often, Jon's starting whenever a twig snaps, Ryan's complaining about the lack of parts, and Brendon. Brendon is getting antsy from the quiet. He's used to quiet - the quiet of the inside of Black Belinda, the quiet of a country road in the middle of nowhere, the quiet of when his shields are working properly like they sometimes do, the quiet of a small town with a population of less than a hundred - but this is different. This is just the softest whispers of just a handful of other mental voices, this is quiet that goes on and on for days, and it makes Brendon uneasy and anxious.
It doesn't help when, at the end of the second week, Spencer's snapping combines with Jon's twitchiness to create a massive, explosive yelling match and Brendon and Ryan both escape the car. Ryan slides into the driver's seat without thinking. "I. Susie has a dance recital today, I think," he says shakily. "You want to-"
"Yeah, sure, yeah, I love Susie's dancing, just fucking drive already," Brendon babbles, buckling his seatbelt as Ryan puts the car in gear and heads down the mountain.
They're just intending to go to Susie's recital, but then Shane is there (he's apparently got a deal with Mrs. Smith where he films all of Susie's recitals in exchange for money and home cooked meals), and he's come straight from filming the Cabbabies Weevil-capturing activities. The only member of The Cab that has an actual car is Brent, who's got a class today, so Cash and the Alexes are sitting mostly-patiently next to Shane, waiting for Susie's recital to finish so that Shane can take them home. Brendon means to watch Susie, honestly he does, but then Cash smirks at him, and Brendon can't just let that go, because it's totally a challenge, and Brendon Urie doesn't back down from a challenge.
Jon and Spencer fluctuate between loud fights and tense, uneasy truces, and Brendon and Ryan find themselves fleeing the cabin and the mountain more and more often. Somehow, they keep running into The Cab, or Shane, or Brent, or some combination of those.
Somehow, between all the time they spend together, Brendon and Cash's thing starts to look like it could become something more. Brendon's about to say something, about to do something, to point it out-
And then May is ending and Brent's finishing his finals and suddenly they're all packing up and piling back into the hearse and heading out again, swearing to never speak of the cabin again. They're saying their goodbyes, hugging Ryan and Spencer's family, high-fiving Shane, fist-bumping the Alexes. Brendon's standing in front of Cash, trying to find the words, to work out how to say them, when Ryan steps up, grabs Cash's shoulder, and says, "Your band is getting pretty good. You find yourselves an actual guitarist instead of stealing ours, and I'll put in a good word for you with Pete."
Cash's jaw drops and he gapes. "Pete. Pete as in Pete Wentz? Dude. Dude, seriously, that'd be, wow, that'd fucking great, oh my god. I. Shane has this cousin, okay, who he says is bitchin' on guitar and who's supposed to come visit soon and is looking for a band and oh my god, Smith. Pete Wentz? You are seriously the best ever," he babbles, oblivious to Ryan going stiff when Cash hugs him enthusiastically. Glancing over Ryan's shoulder, Cash notices Brendon standing there, looking a little stunned. "Oh my fucking god, Bden, can you believe this?" he asks excitedly, and Brendon can't help but smile, because that's Cash.
"You've gotten really good," Brendon says encouragingly. "You and the Alexes. If Pete doesn't sign you, he's crazy." He gives Cash a high-five, then trudges off to the car, feeling a little glad for Ryan's intrusion on the moment. If Ryan hadn't come then, Brendon probably would've said something he'd really regret, something about feelings and forevers and things that are really, really stupid to even think in the same sentence as Cash Colligan.
Brent climbs in behind the wheel, Jon sliding in next to him, and the Smiths pile into the back with Brendon, sandwiching him between them, and Brendon relaxes. Takes a deep breath, lets it out. "C'mon," Brendon crows, slinging his arms around Ryan and Spencer and leaning forward, grinning, "let's get this show on the road." Brent laughs and starts the ignition, and they peel out of Vegas, leaving all their worries and woes behind them.