Ghost!Brendon/Ryan Chapter 2
Title: Morts ou Vivants [Ch. 2/?]
Author: Meeeee! cobrapandemic
Beta: mikeycway
Summary: Brendon should have listened to Travie. Now he’s dead too.
Pairing: ghost!Brendon/Ryan, eventual Spencer/Jon
Words: This Chapter: 1,515
A/N: This is based on a dream I had. I hope you love it!
::Chapter One::
BRENDON:
Brendon sort of half-hovers over the man's unconscious body, the slow song of: I'm dead and I killed him. I'm dead and I killed him, playing in his brain.
The fact that Brendon A) hasn't figured out where- as an...apparition- he is supposed to be. B) is freaked the fuck out. And C) is pretty sure the guy down there is going to refuse to help him, doesn't exactly make him want to call 911.
So Brendon opts to sit down and wait. Because if the dude isn't dead, he'll be getting up.
Brendon takes this time to scan the gentleman. The guy looks to be a little older than Brendon is...was. He has lightly tanned skin, long piano fingers, brown almost-wavy hair, and if Brendon remembers correctly, big honey eyes.
He's wearing a paisley head band that pushes his hair back, a brown vest over a light blue dress shirt, tight dark brown dress pants and a pair of brown suede boots. He looks like he stepped out of a Beatles musical video.
Brendon stares.
And stares.
Blinks.
And stares some more.
Brendon grows bored of staring within the minute because, c'mon, he's Brendon, and decides to go and visit his best friend down the hall. If there's anyone that knows about supernatural shit, it's Pete Wentz.
RYAN:
Ryan wakes up but refuses to actually open his eyes. There is no way there was a ghost- a hot ghost no less- in his brand new apartment. He doesn't know whether to call his landlord, a shrink or fucking Ghost Busters.
In a slow, deliberate fashion, Ryan opens each eye to a thin crack. There is a tiny bit of afternoon sun shining through the window but nothing else. No one else. Ryan does a mental happy dance to celebrate his non-insanity, then scowls at the fact that only insane people do mental happy dances.
Ryan is so fucked.
He pulls himself to his feet, clutching the edge of the door frame to stop the rushing vertigo. He realizes that he has managed a nasty scrape on the heel of his hand and trudges toward the kitchen to clean himself up.
The kitchen itself is the one thing about the place Ryan absolutely adores. The stoves are flat top, floors shiny white tile, counters and center island are marble and all of the appliances are stainless steel. It's perfect. Spencer would love it, Ryan tells himself.
Ryan doesn't realize he'd been speaking aloud until someone says:
"The kitchen was my favorite too."
Ryan whips around on his heel to see the...the...
He doesn't finish his thought as he promptly faints again.
BRENDON:
Brendon almost curses at the man's unconscious form on the tile floor. Really, the guy must be half fainting goat.
Brendon sort of wishes the guy would not faint upon seeing him. It would be nice to have a conversation with him, seeing as Pete thinks some dumb kids knocked on his door and ran off. Brendon frowns. His own best friend can't see him. But this random fainting beautiful man can. And did Brendon mention the guy on the floor is drop dead gorgeous? Yeah well...he is.
Brendon is looking out the window when the body beneath him begins to stir. He steps back far enough to avoid scaring the guy shitless as the man's honey eyes flutter open. God he's beautiful, Brendon muses.
"Could you maybe...not faint again? I kind of need your uh...help?" Brendon stutters out gently as if persuading a small child. The man blinks before standing wobbly. With his wide eyes and thin, shaking legs he resembles a new born baby deer. Brendon almost reaches out a hand to steady him but thinks better of it.
No need to give the guy another reason to pass out.
"Help with what?"
Brendon is the one to go wide-eyed now. He hadn't expected a response that quickly.
"With me uh... crossing over. I was thinking that maybe I can't cross over because I have to make amends or something. So like-"
"If I agree to help will you go away?" The guy intrudes and okay, Brendon will admit that his words stung a little. But help is help. Brendon is in no place to be picky.
"Yes. If you help I'll get out of your hair. Promise."
The guy stares Brendon up and down for maybe...three minutes before nodding.
"What do I need to do?" He asks, voice emotionless and robotic. It makes Brendon cringe.
"Alright well...first tell me your name." Brendon says almost cheerily, hoping to get some kind of emotion from this guy.
The guy, yet again, looks Brendon up and down before answering. "Ryan Ross."
Ryan. Ryan Ross. It's somehow fitting, Brendon thinks. He beams at Ryan.
"Right! Well, Ryan Ross. I just need you to make amends for me. Talk to a couple people. Tell them I'm sorry for...whatever. Simple." Brendon only says whatever because he's never been a particularly terrible person. Well, aside from occasionally taking Pete's shirts and forgetting to return them but Brendon doesn't count that as something worth repenting about.
Ryan looks sick and Brendon prays he doesn't faint a third time. That would suck. Luckily Ryan takes a deep breath, squaring his bony shoulders.
"Who do I amend with first?"
RYAN:
Ryan has not the slightest clue why or how he is doing this. All he knows is that he wants Brendon to disappear permanently before Spencer and the guys come. Because god knows Gerard would have a field day with a ghost around to entertain him.
Gerard, Ryan concludes, is psychotic.
Ryan finds himself a few doors down from his own, Brendon flanking him closely bringing about a chilling breeze along with him.
"So this is really important. Pete is my best friend. So don't screw this up." Brendon coaches as he knocks on the door. Ryan still doesn't know what the fuck he's doing helping a ghost. But he doesn't have much time to think because the door swings open.
In the doorway is the odd tattooed guy from earlier. He doesn't look happy at Ryan's presence. Lucky for tattoo man, Ryan doesn’t give a shit.
"What do you want, man?" The dude asks shortly, weight shifting from this foot to the other. Ryan narrows his eyes first at the man then at Brendon who happens to look like he's ten seconds from body slamming the guy to the ground.
"Are you Pete?"
The tattooed guy looks around as if there are hidden cameras watching from a near by corner. Ryan cocks his hip in a totally Spencer-way and waits.
"Why? Who wants to know?" He demands. Ryan looks over at Brendon who shrugs. What a fucking asshole he is. Not even willing to lend a fucking sentence. Bastard.
"I'm here to make amends for Brendon." Ryan says outright.
PETE:
O_o Wtf?!!
RYAN:
The Pete guy seems to be about to spontaneously combust from the news he's received so Ryan tries a different approach.
"Brendon really misses you and wants to say a few things- through me- before crossing over."
Brendon shifts a little further away from Ryan and Pete, face turning even more pale than it already is.
Pete surprisingly nods, opening the door further so that Ryan could come in. Brendon manages to slide in before it shuts.
Pete leads Ryan- and unknowingly Brendon- into a living room identical to Ryan's. He waves a lazy hand for Ryan to sit. Ryan obliges and sits, ignoring the smell of musk and dog. Brendon just hovers- as per usual- in the corner, letting Ryan handle everything.
"So, tell me again why you're here-" Pete stops, gesturing for a name.
"Ryan Ross."
"-Ryan Ross?" He finishes with a flourish and yeah. Definitely a flaming fag. But so is Ryan so...pot meet kettle.
"I came for Brendon. He died and-"
"Do you think you’re fucking funny, bastard? Did one of the Cobras put you up to this??!" Pete is standing now, glaring down at a confused Ryan.
"I-" Ryan looks to Brendon who looks twice as confused. Ryan flails his arms at Brendon and mouths, What the hell?
"Do you get off on this type of thing?! You're a sick fuck!" Pete shouts and okay, fuck this. Ryan stands, trumping Pete by a few inches. Pete doesn't back down though.
"I don't know what you're talking about man! Your best friend's ghost sent me here! The guy is trying to fucking cross over and you're not helping him!" Ryan is furious now because how did he get dragged into this shit?
Brendon is shaking, eyes flicking back and forth between Ryan and Pete.
Pete is shaking too but from pure, unadulterated anger.
"BRENDON IS NOT FUCKING DEAD!" Pete screams and okay, what?
"What?" Ryan and Brendon blurt simultaneously. Of course Pete only hears Ryan.
"Brendon isn't dead." Pete says again, flat... empty.
"Then where is he?"
Pete glares at Ryan.
"He's in a coma. Has been for eight weeks now."
And if ghosts could faint...Brendon would be hitting the floor.
****
A/N: I'm not really great at writing a real person story. I usually write book character fics so I'm new to this. That's basically why things are soooo epically simple. I just need to find my niche, okay? But I love you who are okay with my...amateur writing. So, thank you.