Ghost!Brendon/Ryan Chapter 4
Title: Morts ou Vivants [Ch. 4/?]
Author: Meeeee! cobrapandemic
Beta: cobrapandemic
Summary: Brendon should have listened to Travie. Now he’s dead too.
Pairing: ghost!Brendon/Ryan, eventual Spencer/Jon
Words: This Chapter: 2,698
A/N: This is based on a dream I had. I hope you love it!
::Chapter One:: ::Chapter Two:: ::Chapter Three::
BRENDON:
When Brendon comes to, he's back on the roof top. The sky is glowing with the pink of dawn and the cool fall wind is blowing his hair around wildly. Brendon absently brushes his hair from his face.
Then he freezes like a prostitute caught giving a blowjob because...how is his hair moving? Surely, if Brendon remembers correctly, which he's pretty fucking sure he does, his hair is NOT supposed to move.
Brendon looks closely at the long-curly blond hair hanging in his face.
What. The. Fuck.
With a disbelieving huff he manages to look down at himself. He's no longer wearing his own clothes. He has on khaki cargo pants that show off semi-hairy legs. Legs that are much longer and much more tan than he remembers. He has on a red tee shirt that exposes equally hairy arms. Arms that are pronounced, thick and muscular.
Brendon then reaches around his torso and feels the unmistakable tightness of a six pack. Of a man that works out everyday.
Brendon hasn't worked out a day in his life.
“Fuck...” He breathes out, the panic rising in his stomach like vomit. “Fuck...” And then he hears his voice. Really hears it. It's deeper. No longer the mid-soprano he remembers but a low alto.
Brendon screams.
Brendon screams and flails and screams and flails and screams. Then he stops- touches his ass. His formerly perfect, award-winning apple bottom ass. Realizes it's as flat as Ryan's voice- then he proceeds to pass out.
RYAN:
Ryan arrives home to find the apartment empty and he can't stop the sinking feeling he gets. He had always wanted to live alone and come home to peace and quiet and stillness. But this...this isn't right. Because Brendon isn't here disrupting Ryan's peace and quiet.
Brendon is gone and Ryan is scared.
“Bren?” He finds himself calling for the boy, hoping he's playing some ridiculous joke because he seems like the type to goof off. There's is no laughter though. Ryan runs a hand through his matted hair.
“Brendon?” He tries again, walking down the hall leading to the bedroom. Ryan leans his head carefully against the wooden door, clutching the brass handle tightly. Please, God, he prays.
Ryan twists the knob, praying that Brendon is just sleeping again like he had been the first day Ryan met him. Ryan isn't going to faint this time. He's going tell Brendon. Tell the beautiful doe-eyed boy that he loves him.
When Ryan opens the door, the bed is empty. Just a mess of sheets and dirty clothes.
And if anyone asks, anyone at all...
Ryan doesn't collapse onto the bed. Ryan doesn't curl into a ball. And Ryan most certainly does not bawl his eyes out.
BRENDON:
“Brendon...” Brendon hears Maja. The dirty, conniving angel that turned him into a fucking skater boy. He hears the bitch but...
He chooses to ignore her.
“Brendon Boyd-”
“Go. Away.” He grumbles. His head is throbbing and he could have sworn that his godly ass is no more. With shaking hands he reaches for his bottom, feels nothing, then opens his eyes. Maja is there, all holy blonde hair and bright blue eyes and Brendon would kill her if she weren't dead already.
“Give it back.” He says sternly, sitting up and getting in the angel's face. “Give it the fuck back! Right the fuck now! Take me back to Ryan!” He shouts, stomping his foot. Well, not his foot but...you get what he means.
“Brendon, calm down. Let me explain the rules.” Maja begins, touching Brendon's shoulder. He snatches away, scoffing in her direction. Maja is unfazed.
“The rules?! This isn't some kind of...” Brendon flails. “...twisted angel board game, okay?! This is my life!”
“I'm not playing a game with you, Brendon. I'm trying to help you. If you would just hear me out. Please?” Maja begs. Brendon is pretty sure she's lying again. Last time she said she would help he ended up like this.
“Help how? Why am I not me anymore?” He demands, standing finally to see where he is. He isn't on the roof of the apartment anymore but inside the apartments. Not his/Ryan's apartment. But another.
Maja makes a tiny gesture with her hands. “Oh! Because you Jace now! Jace Michael Sanders!” She tells Brendon as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
“Excuse me? I'm who?” Brendon asks, cringing against a voice that isn't his own.
Maja grabs his hand and pulls him to sit on a black leather sofa.
“Well, I went to the Big Guy and asked him if he could maybe create a diversion. Give you a little more time before your folks...you know...”
And Brendon doesn't know.
Maja continues. “...You...don't know about them pulling the plug?” She asks and Brendon knows he's pale. Stiff in the seat. His own parents? His own family?
“I've only been like this for a couple days!!” He shouts, and Maja looks so pained he thinks he's hurt her feelings.
“Brendon. Honey...it's been nearly three months.” She tells him. Seeing his confused and broken expression she adds, “Time flies when you're not alive.”
Brendon can't breathe. And it was never a problem before but in this new, living body, he has to breathe. He takes a deep breath, feeling his soul shake. This can't be happening.
“So..so what? What happens now?”
“Well, the Big Guy was able to get you two more weeks starting tomorrow. And in those two weeks, you have to make Ryan fall in love with you again. In this new form. But you can't tell him that its you.” Explains Maja. Brendon is now pacing the room grumbling obscenities under his breath.
“How the fuck am I going to do that? Hmm? If Ryan is in love with me, the real me, how is he ever going to fall for some random dude in two weeks?! That's impossible.” And it is. At least Brendon thinks it is.
“Brendon, you haven't even tried yet. Just...” Maja pushes her hair back tiredly and fishes a wallet and a set of keys from her back pockets. “Look, this is your new apartment, the keys to your new car, this is your new I.D. You're still living in Glenn Lakes, just a couple doors down from Ryan who is currently at work. Go there. Meet him. Make him love you. But you can't tell him it's you. You can not tell him.” She keeps emphasizing the “tell” and Brendon is about to cry from the sheer frustration of the situation.
“Maja, I-”
“Go. Bren. Don't tell.” She says, and then she's gone in a flush of white wings.
“Ugh! Bitch!” He shouts to the empty air. There's a sudden crash from behind him and Brendon turns to see the remnants of the pure white angel figurine that has magically fallen from the shelf.
He smirks, glad that Maja heard his insult.
RYAN:
It's been another week and still no Brendon.
Ryan has been having nightmares. Ones involving needles and screaming and the droll of dead heart monitors.
He's also been having dreams. Once involving beaches and puppies and Ryan holding Brendon and kissing Brendon and smiling and laughing with Brendon.
Ryan hates those dreams. He'd rather have the fucking nightmares.
Ryan has also given up on keeping Spencer away and decides to call him over from company. Of course, because calling Spencer means calling Gerard means calling Mikey, Ray, Frank, and Bob...
Ryan's house is full when he wakes up Monday morning for work.
Spencer is lounged across the sofa. Ray is all lengthy limbs and hair on the Laz-E-boy. Mikey and Bob are curled into one another on the loveseat and Gerard and Frank are a bunch of limbs on the floor. Ryan only smiles a little.
Smiling hurts too much.
The kitchen lights are still burning from the night before and the counters are covered end to end with empty pizza boxes, chip bags, soda cans and empty beer bottles. Last night was the closest Ryan has felt to complete since Brendon disappeared.
He almost feels guilty for being happy. He also feels guilty for not visiting the hospital. But what's the use? Brendon is dead. Why add fuel to the non-fire?
Ryan doesn't get food before he leaves the house, he just grabs his keys, cell and wallet. He leaves a note telling Spence to keep his apartment in one piece before heading to Starbucks for a busy Monday.
It's eight in the morning and the apartment building is awake, everyone rushing to get to work or school. Ryan just about collides face first with a couple residents as he makes his way to the elevator.
He's pressing the button to shut the doors when he hears yelling, recognizes it as Bill and sticks his foot in the doors to stop them. Bill comes running, panting, hands on knees and babbling to Ryan about being late for something. Ryan just steps aside and let's him into the elevator.
“God...shit I'm almost late for work. Fuck!” Bill says through clipped breaths. Ryan nods in his general direction, in no mood to talk.
“So, did you see the new guy in the building? He's pretty hot.” Bill inquires and Ryan makes a vague noise, watching the descending light illuminate the numbers. Floor 3...Floor 2...
“He's a blonde though. Really tall. He sort of reminds of that Brendon kid that used to live in your apartment.” Bill muses as the elevator dings open but Ryan doesn't move. He's frozen to the spot.
Bill turns around, giving Ryan an impatient look. “You coming?”
“How?” Ryan manages, following Bill closely. Bill looks at him once.
“How what?”
“How does the new guy remind you of Brendon? What's his name? Which apartment-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Little dude, relax. I'm just a pretty face. I can't keep up with all of your questions. Give me a sec, will ya?” William teases and pushes the doors open, letting Ryan step outside first.
“C'mon, Bill-”
“Alright, alright! The new guy is just all... jittery and shit. Like he drank 12 Red Bulls. Always grinning. Talks really fast. Just like that Brendon kid. And his name is Jace, I think. Lives a few doors down from you. Blonde hair, brown eyes...”
Ryan stops listening after Bill tells him where the Jace guy lives. That's all he really wanted to know.
“William, I have to get going. Jon'll flip shit if I'm late. But it was great talking to you.” Ryan says, patting Bill on the arm before rushing to his shitty car. Bill waves to him, still giving him that weird look.
The new guy is just all... jittery and shit...Always grinning. Talks really fast. Just like that Brendon kid.
Bill's word replay over and over again in Ryan's head on the way to the Bucks. They replay as he walks inside, clocks in, puts on his robe. When he makes the Blonde bitch, Stacey's, coffee consisting of more syrups than actual coffee, he hears Bill's words.
Just like that Brendon kid.
Ryan knows it's too good to be true. Knows it's impossible. But he met Brendon once. As a ghost. He fell in love with him as a ghost. That should have been impossible too.
Ryan is making his final coffee before his break, when the tiny bell tolls. He groans. He really isn't in the mood to make another coffee...
“Welcome to Starbucks, how can I help you this afternoon?” Ryan gives the tall blonde man the standard greeting. The tall blonde doesn't answer but stares at Ryan with big brown eyes. Big brown familiar eyes. Ryan shakes his head. Because no. He can't fall apart now.
“I said, how can I help you this afternoon?” Ryan repeats, politeness be damned. The guy seems to snap out of whatever trance he had been in and smiles, big and wide, at Ryan. It's a staggering smile. Ryan has to catch his breath.
“I'll just...hmm. I don't really know what I want.” He muses, leaning haphazardly against the counter. He looks to Ryan. Ryan glares. “What's good here?”
Ryan wants to slap this douche in the face. “Coffee.” Ryan mutters, monotone developing.
The guy smiles again, looking at Ryan like you look at your lost puppy when you find it. “I'll have that then please!” The guy exclaims.
“Fine.” Ryan stomps away from the counter and begins making a cup of black coffee, no sugar.
“So...you work here?” The asks. Ryan doesn't answer. “It seems like a nice job. I had a friend. That uhm...worked in a Starbucks, once. He didn't like his job either. I dunno why. I love people. But then again, Ry-Uhm...my friend wasn't really all that nice...I guess. To other people. Or me.”
Ryan ignores the guy's babbling, rummaging through a packing box for more cup caps.
“We didn't talk much when I was around him. But he was really pretty. He had the most amazing honey eyes. But I think he had a weak stomach because he fainted. Like a lot.”
Ryan is now back at the counter, staring at the blonde who happens to be twirling a strand of his hair around a finger.
“Here. That'll be 2.90.” Says Ryan, hip cocked oh-so-impatiently. He knows that if Jon sees him behaving this way, he will be fired. Or at least put on a probation period. He straightens up nimbly.
The blonde man sips his coffee and makes a puckering face. “Ugh. That's bitter.”
Ryan simply nods and waits for the 2.90 the guy owes. He doesn't get it.
“What's your name?”
Ryan eyes the man blankly because, what? Why is this guy even here? He comes in, has no idea what he wants to order, talks to Ryan about things Ryan doesn’t care about and now he's asking for Ryan's name.
“George.” Ryan half lies. The guy raises an eye brow but says nothing. If anything he looks skeptical.
“Nice to meet you, George. I'm Bre-uh... Jace.”
Ryan blinks now. Jace. This must be the new guy Bill had been talking about. I mean, there aren't that many guys named Jace in Vegas.
“Cool.” Ryan says to him, returning to staring absently at the counter. He wants to look at Jace though. Because Bill is right, he does act like Brendon. The set of his shoulders, the way he can't sit still. Those deep brown eyes.
No.
“I think we live in the same apartment. I think I saw you this morning or something.” Jace says, sipping from the cup again, making that puckered face. Ryan almost wants to giggle. Almost.
“Yeah. I suppose.”
“Mhm.” Jace grumbles, digging into the pocket of his khaki cargo pants. He puts a twenty on the counter and grabs Ryan's hand when he goes to make change.
“It's yours. A tips for great service.” He assures Ryan, giving him the biggest Brendon-like smile possible. Ryan almost jumps over the counter. Almost.
“Uh...Thanks.” He manages to call out as the guy leaves. Jace looks over his shoulder and Ryan doesn't see blonde hair and a tall frame. He sees big brown eyes and that warm smile.
“No problem, Ryan.” And then Jace is gone.
Ryan stares after him.
And if anyone asks...
He totally doesn't walk to the door and watch the man round the corner.
He totally doesn't slap himself to snap out of it.
He totally isn't looking forward to going back to the apartments to find Jace.
He totally isn't.
A/N: So, I wrote this chapter in my French class while the boy next to me babbled about his girlfriend. So, if it makes no sense, blame the guy I sit next to in French, haha! Okay, bye!