Recovery, chapter fourteen
summary: Ian dies of cancer. Anthony goes to a memorial service.
rating: pg-13
warnings: cursing and mentions of suicide.
“You’re gonna be nice, right?”
“No Ant, I’m gonna be a complete asshole.” Ian said from the passenger seat next to him. It was sunny out, yet chilly, and they both wore light jackets paired with nervous expressions.
“Very funny.” He swatted Ian playfully. “Just be on your best behavior, okay? I really like this girl.”
“Okay, okay.” Ian replied, and grew silent. There was a look on his face that made Anthony uneasy, something opposite what it should have been. Sadness? Jealousy? He hadn’t been hanging out with his good friend lately, not since he’d been spending so much time with his new girlfriend, and he was sure that was the problem.
“Anthony?” He heard Kalel’s voice and turned away from the window, where he had paused to look at the rain outside and think of days long gone. “It’s Tuesday.”
“I know.” Anthony said, looking back out the window. It was really pouring out, for one of the first times since Ian died. He hadn’t expected the hot, sunny weather that had followed Ian’s death; when someone important died in a movie, the whole world stood still and the clouds poured. Now it was just sunny, and the only one who was stood still was him.
“So you have to take your suit to the dry cleaners. For the memorial service, remember?” Kalel questioned him as she made up the bed.
“What? No.” Anthony shook his head.
“Ian’s service? The one I told you about in the car on the way home from the cemetery the other day?” When Anthony stayed silent, she continued. “Apparently his friend, a deacon I think, was out of town when he passed away, so now he’s holding a service. Cheryl invited us.”
“A deacon.” Anthony said slowly, taking in the new information.
“It’s a baptist thing. Like a priest but not as holy, I think.” Kalel finished with the bed and approached him carefully, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I know, it’s just at the- the will reading, I met that guy, I thought it already passed.” He didn’t mention to her that when he’d heard of it, he had no intention of going.
“Cheryl said you guys met, yeah, but apparently he did a lot of traveling so it had to be postponed. Rumor has it his church is in danger of shutting down.” She shrugged noncommittally.
He didn’t really know how to respond to that. A large part of him just couldn’t care anymore, but something deep inside him felt as though something was wrong.
“We really should go, Anthony, it would mean a lot to Cheryl.” She continued. “And if you can’t, I’ll do it without you, I get that this is hard.”
“I can do it.” Anthony muttered, though unsure he could. Kalel sighed, removed her hand from his shoulder, and left Anthony alone in the room. But he himself was already gone, thinking of an old memory.
They were at a picnic, which Anthony decided not to call ridiculous when Ian suggested it. Ian had said it would be the perfect way to meet and hang out with Kalel while they got to know each other, and though Anthony teased and called him a romantic, he had to admit it played out well.
Ian was polite upon meeting her, though a bit more quiet than usual. He asked her about where she was from, what she did, how she felt today, all the little things. They unpacked their picnic and ate on a blanket, shooing away the occasional bug. Anthony thought things were going well, though he wasn’t absolutely convinced.
The ice cream truck rang around and they helped themselves to the cold treats, and when Ian left them alone for a minute to grab some napkins, Anthony finally got to find out how Kalel felt about his greatest friend.
“I think he likes you.” He said, affectionately putting an arm around her shoulder.
“Oh really?” She smirked, then her smile became genuine. “Well, I like him, too.”
“Even though he has a bowl haircut?” Anthony questioned, and she giggled. “It can be pretty off-putting. Very distracting.”
She continued to giggle, shaking her head. “Even with the haircut.” She smiled and took a deep breath. They examined Ian across the park, stopping to pet a dog. Anthony couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“He’s not usually this quiet, ya know.” He sighed. “I think he’s just getting used to you. Soon we won’t be able to shut him up.”
“I’m okay with that.” She said, waving as Ian parted with the dog and his owner and made his way back to them. “It’s like we have a little hyperactive kid and we’re just really dysfunctional parents.”
“You’re calling me dysfunctional?” He gasped. “You’re the one always out with your drinking buddies. How could you do this to me? I’m your wife!”
Her laughter reverberated through the air, and the loving sound of it almost distracted Anthony from the temporary look of pain in Ian’s eyes.
***
He was filming the next day, though he had no idea what anymore. He never wrote anything, and he only learned his lines the day he had to say them. He’d been disconnected as of late; he didn’t know how the fans were dealing with the loss now, or if they liked the new workers, or if they were losing any subscribers. He didn’t want to know. He wanted to give up on Smosh, throw it away so its pathetic little life without Ian could end. But no, he stayed. Only because Ian might have wanted him to.
He met two of the new cast that day, distracting him from his bitterness but not exactly making him care about them. Howard, an overly-excited kid with curly, dirty brown hair and dark brown eyes, and Cassie, who was four-foot-nine and funny, but awkward at times. The only thing he knew about these new people in his life is that they were all short and terrific at making him miss his friend in some unconscious little way. And it was driving him mad.
***
One hand on his steering wheel, another pulling at his collar, Anthony detested being back in the suit he wore at Ian’s funeral, especially with the knowledge that he was going to another event just like it. But driving to the church he’d only passed by, never actually been too, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He had so little left of Ian; Smosh, the dying project he no longer cared for, Charlie, his new pet, and Cheryl, the woman who raised Ian, and in recent years, had almost become a mother to him. It was the first time that he actually regretted letting so much of Ian slip away.
“Anthony, it’s that one there.” Kalel piped up next to him, pointing to a little white church on the corner. He turned into the parking lot, stopping the car next to a sign that read Sacramento Baptist Church and staring at his hands for a moment.
“Anthony?” Kalel said his name quietly beside him. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah.” Anthony agreed flatly, though he didn’t really feel that was true.
They got out of the car and stepped inside, Anthony doing so with hitched breath. It was a simple building, with pews and white walls with the usual organs towards the pulpit that most churches have. Towards the front of the room, Anthony could clearly see the Deacon, whom he’d only met once before, speaking with Cheryl, and a jolt of pain went through him at the sight of her. She looked exponentially older every time they met, the poor thing coping with mourning almost as badly as he was.
“We should go say hi.” Kalel said, stepping forward, but Anthony stayed rooted to the spot, looking around at the people in the church.
It was crowded, yes, but mostly not with those he knew. He recognized some members of Smosh at a quick glance, and in the corner of the room spotted a familiar hawaiian shirt that he decided to avoid for the time being, but the rest were strangers, families with little kids and old women with large, pastel hats.
“Who are these people?” He questioned Kalel, fear creeping up into him without him quite realizing it. Did Ian know all these people without ever telling him? Are they more and more secrets?
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Let’s ask Cheryl.” She grabbed his hand and gave him a nod of reassurance, and together they made their way over to her, though nervousness increased in Anthony with every step he took.
“Good morning, you two.” Cheryl said, and hugged them both, Anthony’s arms shaking when they came around her torso.
“Hey, Cheryl.” Kalel smiled, pity in her eyes. “Who are all these people?”
“Church goers.” The Deacon said beside her. “Ian donated a lot to this place, and though many here did not know him, we’re all very grateful.”
Anthony felt himself untense with relief, finding something nice about one less lie to worry about.
“Kalel, why don’t you help me with those trays over there so people can get a bite to eat before the sermon?” Cheryl asked her politely, and they left together, forcing Anthony to stay behind with this man he barely knew.
“So, um, how’s the church doing then?” Anthony asked, both nervous about being there and curious about the status of the allegedly poor place.
“Well, our attendants are happy, and we’re doing the most we can for them to create a tight-knit community, so that’s all well and good.” He said, and Anthony, now hearing the man talk more, realized his voice was not just deep, but slightly comforting as well, and highly articulate. “Unfortunately, we’re not doing well in the financial sense.”
“What about donations? From these people, from Ian?” Anthony raised his brow.
“Ian’s donations during the last few months were incredibly helpful, but some unexpected difficulties occurred. They might not be enough to see us through this storm.” He looked over the crowd of chatting Christians solemnly.
“So everything he did...it didn’t help.” Anthony felt his nervous feeling replaced by some odd sadness, a distant sort of feeling.
“It boosted morale; that is quite helpful in my opinion. I think you should take a seat, I’ll be starting soon.”
Anthony nodded and scanned the room, eventually finding Kalel and taking a seat next to her on the pew. When he sensed someone sit beside him, he turned briefly to see a handsome and familiar man looking up to the Deacon, and upon looking quickly to his own lap, recalled that it was John Marrow, Ian’s doctor. Another secret he kept, one he discovered upon seeing Ian’s dead body very briefly in a hospital room, the last time he would ever see him.
“Good morning, everyone.” The Deacon said warmly to the crowd. “If you could please find your seats among the pews so we could get started, that would be greatly appreciated.”
The typical bumps, moans and groans that came with people taking their places was heard, and echoed in the church. Anthony was just thankful he wasn’t sitting behind an old woman with a giant hat.
“Thank you everyone. We’re all gathered here, in these hallowed walls, to celebrate a life, to mourn a death; Ian Hecox was only twenty-four years old when he succumbed to cancer, but what he gave to the world was worth years of joy, years beyond which the average man could ever live.
“The ever-caring son, Ian loved his mother dearly, and showed it frequently in his actions. He was always kind and caring to her, knowing she was a bright point in his life; for truly a nurturing mother is a kind gift from the Lord.”
Anthony heard soft murmurs of agreement from the crowd he sat in. Personally, he wondered if this was going to drag on.
“Then, as a young man, he teamed up with his best friend, and they created a company that changed the lives of many young people. They made videos that created joy, laughter, passion. Things that inspired creativity, brought happiness to young people who suffered from a lack of it. And that will be his legacy, and in the future people will look up to this man, and they will beam when they think of him, for he was a man who created laughter, and that is a beautiful thing.”
Anthony continued to stare at his lap, trying to keep his mind blank. He didn’t want to care, want to feel. There was a deep and long-lasting sadness inside him, and he wanted to feel no more excess pain than that. But he could feel a touch of pride hit him for just a moment, before he forced it away, not wanting to feel any more attachment to the fans or the crew. They weren’t as good without Ian, they were a reminder that he didn’t have someone he loved - maybe someone he was really in love with - any longer.
“During the last few months of Ian’s life, he came into this church continuously, donating games, office supplies, and even a bicycle, helping families in need flourish during hard times. His generous spirit helped people he never met, without hesitation, without selfishness. Though his faith is unknown to us, though we know not if he believed in the Lord, we can be certain that after his passing, he was greeted by Saint Peter with reverence upon walking through the gates of Heaven. May his soul find peace and absolution in the duration of his eternity in God’s Kingdom. Amen.”
The people seated around Anthony repeated the final word, heads bowed with respect. He fidgeted awkwardly in his seat.
“Now you may all stand if you wish, to speak among yourselves, to visit our snack table, or to come forward to the pulpit, where my podium and the walls behind me are adorned with photos of Ian, commemorating his life. This is not a sermon, this is a community gathered together for a friend, no need for formality.”
The audience hummed lightly with assorted laughter, and started to stand and walk around. Anthony felt Marrow leave his side, and watched him walk over to examine the photos.
“We should walk around, say hi.” Kalel leaned in and muttered to him. “Some of your work friends are here.”
Anthony looked over to Drew, Zach, Daniel and Brandon, a small group of various Smosh employees. He didn’t want to go over and say hello to any of them, but Brandon turned and waved, and he was left with no choice.
“Cheryl is calling me over, I’ll say hi to your friends later, okay?” And with that she stood and departed, leaving him alone to face his friends, those whose importance would never equal that of the man whose death they were mourning.
“Hey guys.” He nodded to all of them, sadness weighing him down too much for a polite smile. They all greeted him, and he fought to ignore the pity in their eyes.
“We were just talking about Ian. Deacon Franklin gave an interesting sermon there.” Drew said, his lips pursed and his brow raised slightly. Anthony got the sinking feeling that he was suspicious of something; maybe that Ian loved him, maybe that Anthony might love him back.
“I, um, I don’t think it was technically a sermon, more of a speech. Uh, actually, I just saw an old friend that I need to say hi to, I’ll catch up with you guys later.” He gave them a half wave and walked away quickly, towards a bright, familiar pattern.
“Afternoon, Kris.” He said, shaking the elder man’s hand and looking down to his Hawaiian print shirt.
“Hello, Anthony.” He smiled. “That looked like some very professional avoiding I just witnessed.”
“Oh.” Anthony felt his cheeks redden. “I just - there was something wrong. They know something.”
“What kind of something?” Kris questioned, taking a sip of water from the little plastic cup he no doubt received from the table where the few trays of food sat.
“Like...the kind of something we discussed on Monday.” Anthony lowered his voice.
“That’s a big something.” Kris gave a heavy sigh. “Do you still feel the same way about that particular something?”
“I don’t know. I guess.” He really didn’t know. Uncertainty gripped him every day, stabbing him uncomfortably at every moment he least expected it to come.
“But you won’t admit to anyone how you felt about him. Not his mother, not your friends?” He asked, tilting his head in earnest.
“I can’t. I just can’t.” He looked over to Cheryl and Kalel, chatting almost happily. He knew Kalel read the note, but she brushed it off, so maybe she just didn’t care. Maybe she already knew.
“He wants to talk to you.” Kris said, and when Anthony turned and gave him a questioning look, he clarified. “John. Ian’s doctor.”
They looked over to him, examining photos by the pulpit, face blank.
“Why should I?” Anthony asked, seeing no way for their conversation to end well.
“He’s my friend, Anthony. He’s broken up after loosing a patient. I don’t know what he wants to say to you, but whatever it is, he needs to say it.”
Anthony let out a breath, sad and tired of it all, then nodded to Kris, leaving him to approach Marrow instead. He reached the pulpit and stood next to the taller, tan man in silence, looking over the photos. He’d seen some of them before in Ian’s old house, pictures of him as a kid, then a teenager, then an adult. In the still photos that didn’t quite catch the glimmer in his eye, he looked vibrant, happy.
“I remember when he looked like that.” Marrow said, pointing to one of the photos. Anthony recognized it as the annual fourth of July block party, one year ago. They were both in it, holding half-eaten watermelon and bearing huge smiles.
“Towards the end though...” He pointed to another picture on the podium, in the opposite corner. Fourth of July, the recent one. Four days before he died. “He just didn’t look real anymore. He looked like he’d already left, but was just hanging on.”
Anthony stayed silent, staring at the picture. Ian was sitting in the rocking chair on his neighbor’s porch; he fondly recalled that Cheryl was friends with the neighbor, and when he picked up Ian to hang out with on summer nights, the two were sat in those chairs drinking tea and gossiping. It was supposed to be a happy place, a happy little thought, but now it was tainted by the sight of Ian’s illness. Ian was pale, his eyes were sunken and purple underneath, his hair flat and lacking shine, his skin starting to turn translucent and looking sweaty.
When Anthony looked at his friend before he died, he didn’t see this. He saw Ian just a little worse than usual. He had no idea. Hell, maybe his subconscious did know, and he just tried to shove it away. Towards the end he was suspicious that something was wrong, something more than the low blood pressure Ian told him he was suffering from, but he didn’t have the nerve to bring it up; he was scared to be right.
“He was supposed to go mid-June. It was a miracle he lasted that long.” Marrow commented, looking at the pictures of his former patient as a toddler.
“You know what would’ve been a miracle? If a doctor convinced him to get some chemo so he could live longer. Past twenty four years old, at least.” Anthony muttered to him through clenched teeth, anger rising in him.
“Let me talk to you outside. Please.” Marrow turned to him, his eyes pleading.
“Why?” Anthony asked flatly.
“I went on a leave of absence after he died. I was broken up. I grew fond of your friend; let me talk to you about him, explain myself. I’ll answer any question you have.”
Anthony stared at him a moment, thinking, then nodded stiffly, and they walked outside together, weaving in between running children and doting old ladies. It was cloudy outside, minutes from raining.
“Explain. Now.” Anthony spat at him when he got to the little brick walkway outside the church, distancing himself from the man.
“I had a sister. Katherine. I loved her dearly, like you loved Ian, though maybe in a different sense.” He started, then continued when Anthony didn’t respond. “She got sick when I was young, leukemia. I had to watch her struggle for over a year. It tore my family apart. When she died, I was so relieved she wasn’t hurting anymore, but my parents still grieved for years.”
“And?” Anthony asked quietly, his back turned to the man.
“And I couldn’t stop my baby sister from dying. But if I could go back, take a year of suffering away from my family, our friends, I would in an instant. If we could’ve just pretended things were okay-”
“Like Ian did.” Anthony turned to him. “Did you convince him to keep it a secret?”
“No. I just...didn’t tell him not to. I helped him, too. I wrote out a fake prescription for a low blood pressure medicine that didn’t exist, just to fool you.”
“In May.” Anthony recalled. “You sick bastard.”
He stared at him coldly, shaking with anger.
“Ian fainted in front of me. He was barely breathing, I thought he was gonna die in my fucking car. And you helped him cover that up?”
“I’m sorry.” He called out, his facial expression full of pain. “I thought-”
“I don’t fucking care what you thought!” Anthony yelled. “You helped him when he was sick, out of his head! He made a stupid decision and no one in the world tried to talk him out of it!”
“You don’t understand!” Marrow yelled back, tears in his eyes. For so long he tried to appear emotionless towards patients, only comforting and supportive, and unwillingly pitying in front of Ian. “You don’t know what it’s like to see some kid you barely know remind you so much of someone you loved and lost. To watch someone go from a healthy looking man, broken by bad news, to the boy you had to drive home because he was on the verge of collapsing, to see his house emptied out, prepared for death. I just wanted to spare his family some pain!”
“You didn’t, asshole!” Anthony shot back. “If I knew back in January, when he found out, then I could’ve prepared myself! We could have tried to help him!”
“It was too late to help him! He was too late for chemo and radiation, and a bunch of surgeries had less than 50 percent of a chance to help him, and they were too expensive, he wasn’t covered for them by his insurance, there was nothing that could be done!” He retorted, the tears starting to spill down his cheeks.
“Telling me! That’s what could’ve been done! So I could get used to living without him just a tiny fucking bit, so I could wake up without wanting to kill myself as badly as I want to do now, so he didn’t have to say the shit he did in a stupid little note! He said he loved me, maybe I could have been with him!”
“I don’t control my patients, Mr. Padilla, I-”
“Shut the fuck up about wanting to help him! You procrastinated, that’s what you did, you dropped the truth on us at the last second because you wanted to delay the pain, but you only made things worse!” He was breathing deeply, seething with anger.
“No, Anthony.” Marrow replied quietly, gone from enraged to stoic. “Ian did that. I only helped. He’s the one you want to yell at.”
And just like that, Anthony’s anger was gone, too. Because he did want to yell at Ian, he wanted to scream, but in the end he wanted Ian to say he was sorry, for them to hug it out and sit down and play video games and for everything to be okay again. But they could never.
“I’m sorry. I really am. Ian was a good man. But at least you understand why I did what I did.” Marrow sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. “Goodnight, Anthony. Maybe we’ll see each other again.”
And he walked past him into the parking lot, not looking him in the eye.
***
In the car, the sun shining, Ian stretched comfortably beside him. Anthony smiled fondly, then got up the nerve to ask what he’d been wondering about all day.
“Ian?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you like her?” Anthony felt his chest grow tight, worried about his answer.
“Yeah, totally, I think she’s cool.” He responded, looking out the window, but something in his voice prevented Anthony from sighing in relief.
“Are you sure? I really want you to like who I’m dating...or, at least, who I’m falling for.” Anthony, stopped at a light, looked over to him, and he stood straighter in his chair and removed his sunglasses.
“Ant, I would tell you if I didn’t like her. I think she’s cool, honestly. I wouldn’t lie to you like that, I love you.” But that usual little sparkle in his eye wasn’t there.
“Thanks, man.” Anthony said, and as the light turned green, he pondered why the sparkle was gone. Maybe Ian just realized they were finally growing up; he always had a penchant for being young.
Outside the church, it started to pour. Anthony, standing alone, wiped rain and tears from his cheeks.
“I love you, too.” He whispered to the air, but there was no response from Ian. There never would be.
A/N: ahaha, did you guys see how Ian called him Ant at the end and now no one will ever call him Ant the same way again? fun stuff. thanks for reading this chapter guys :)
rating: pg-13
warnings: cursing and mentions of suicide.
“You’re gonna be nice, right?”
“No Ant, I’m gonna be a complete asshole.” Ian said from the passenger seat next to him. It was sunny out, yet chilly, and they both wore light jackets paired with nervous expressions.
“Very funny.” He swatted Ian playfully. “Just be on your best behavior, okay? I really like this girl.”
“Okay, okay.” Ian replied, and grew silent. There was a look on his face that made Anthony uneasy, something opposite what it should have been. Sadness? Jealousy? He hadn’t been hanging out with his good friend lately, not since he’d been spending so much time with his new girlfriend, and he was sure that was the problem.
“Anthony?” He heard Kalel’s voice and turned away from the window, where he had paused to look at the rain outside and think of days long gone. “It’s Tuesday.”
“I know.” Anthony said, looking back out the window. It was really pouring out, for one of the first times since Ian died. He hadn’t expected the hot, sunny weather that had followed Ian’s death; when someone important died in a movie, the whole world stood still and the clouds poured. Now it was just sunny, and the only one who was stood still was him.
“So you have to take your suit to the dry cleaners. For the memorial service, remember?” Kalel questioned him as she made up the bed.
“What? No.” Anthony shook his head.
“Ian’s service? The one I told you about in the car on the way home from the cemetery the other day?” When Anthony stayed silent, she continued. “Apparently his friend, a deacon I think, was out of town when he passed away, so now he’s holding a service. Cheryl invited us.”
“A deacon.” Anthony said slowly, taking in the new information.
“It’s a baptist thing. Like a priest but not as holy, I think.” Kalel finished with the bed and approached him carefully, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I know, it’s just at the- the will reading, I met that guy, I thought it already passed.” He didn’t mention to her that when he’d heard of it, he had no intention of going.
“Cheryl said you guys met, yeah, but apparently he did a lot of traveling so it had to be postponed. Rumor has it his church is in danger of shutting down.” She shrugged noncommittally.
He didn’t really know how to respond to that. A large part of him just couldn’t care anymore, but something deep inside him felt as though something was wrong.
“We really should go, Anthony, it would mean a lot to Cheryl.” She continued. “And if you can’t, I’ll do it without you, I get that this is hard.”
“I can do it.” Anthony muttered, though unsure he could. Kalel sighed, removed her hand from his shoulder, and left Anthony alone in the room. But he himself was already gone, thinking of an old memory.
They were at a picnic, which Anthony decided not to call ridiculous when Ian suggested it. Ian had said it would be the perfect way to meet and hang out with Kalel while they got to know each other, and though Anthony teased and called him a romantic, he had to admit it played out well.
Ian was polite upon meeting her, though a bit more quiet than usual. He asked her about where she was from, what she did, how she felt today, all the little things. They unpacked their picnic and ate on a blanket, shooing away the occasional bug. Anthony thought things were going well, though he wasn’t absolutely convinced.
The ice cream truck rang around and they helped themselves to the cold treats, and when Ian left them alone for a minute to grab some napkins, Anthony finally got to find out how Kalel felt about his greatest friend.
“I think he likes you.” He said, affectionately putting an arm around her shoulder.
“Oh really?” She smirked, then her smile became genuine. “Well, I like him, too.”
“Even though he has a bowl haircut?” Anthony questioned, and she giggled. “It can be pretty off-putting. Very distracting.”
She continued to giggle, shaking her head. “Even with the haircut.” She smiled and took a deep breath. They examined Ian across the park, stopping to pet a dog. Anthony couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“He’s not usually this quiet, ya know.” He sighed. “I think he’s just getting used to you. Soon we won’t be able to shut him up.”
“I’m okay with that.” She said, waving as Ian parted with the dog and his owner and made his way back to them. “It’s like we have a little hyperactive kid and we’re just really dysfunctional parents.”
“You’re calling me dysfunctional?” He gasped. “You’re the one always out with your drinking buddies. How could you do this to me? I’m your wife!”
Her laughter reverberated through the air, and the loving sound of it almost distracted Anthony from the temporary look of pain in Ian’s eyes.
***
He was filming the next day, though he had no idea what anymore. He never wrote anything, and he only learned his lines the day he had to say them. He’d been disconnected as of late; he didn’t know how the fans were dealing with the loss now, or if they liked the new workers, or if they were losing any subscribers. He didn’t want to know. He wanted to give up on Smosh, throw it away so its pathetic little life without Ian could end. But no, he stayed. Only because Ian might have wanted him to.
He met two of the new cast that day, distracting him from his bitterness but not exactly making him care about them. Howard, an overly-excited kid with curly, dirty brown hair and dark brown eyes, and Cassie, who was four-foot-nine and funny, but awkward at times. The only thing he knew about these new people in his life is that they were all short and terrific at making him miss his friend in some unconscious little way. And it was driving him mad.
***
One hand on his steering wheel, another pulling at his collar, Anthony detested being back in the suit he wore at Ian’s funeral, especially with the knowledge that he was going to another event just like it. But driving to the church he’d only passed by, never actually been too, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He had so little left of Ian; Smosh, the dying project he no longer cared for, Charlie, his new pet, and Cheryl, the woman who raised Ian, and in recent years, had almost become a mother to him. It was the first time that he actually regretted letting so much of Ian slip away.
“Anthony, it’s that one there.” Kalel piped up next to him, pointing to a little white church on the corner. He turned into the parking lot, stopping the car next to a sign that read Sacramento Baptist Church and staring at his hands for a moment.
“Anthony?” Kalel said his name quietly beside him. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah.” Anthony agreed flatly, though he didn’t really feel that was true.
They got out of the car and stepped inside, Anthony doing so with hitched breath. It was a simple building, with pews and white walls with the usual organs towards the pulpit that most churches have. Towards the front of the room, Anthony could clearly see the Deacon, whom he’d only met once before, speaking with Cheryl, and a jolt of pain went through him at the sight of her. She looked exponentially older every time they met, the poor thing coping with mourning almost as badly as he was.
“We should go say hi.” Kalel said, stepping forward, but Anthony stayed rooted to the spot, looking around at the people in the church.
It was crowded, yes, but mostly not with those he knew. He recognized some members of Smosh at a quick glance, and in the corner of the room spotted a familiar hawaiian shirt that he decided to avoid for the time being, but the rest were strangers, families with little kids and old women with large, pastel hats.
“Who are these people?” He questioned Kalel, fear creeping up into him without him quite realizing it. Did Ian know all these people without ever telling him? Are they more and more secrets?
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Let’s ask Cheryl.” She grabbed his hand and gave him a nod of reassurance, and together they made their way over to her, though nervousness increased in Anthony with every step he took.
“Good morning, you two.” Cheryl said, and hugged them both, Anthony’s arms shaking when they came around her torso.
“Hey, Cheryl.” Kalel smiled, pity in her eyes. “Who are all these people?”
“Church goers.” The Deacon said beside her. “Ian donated a lot to this place, and though many here did not know him, we’re all very grateful.”
Anthony felt himself untense with relief, finding something nice about one less lie to worry about.
“Kalel, why don’t you help me with those trays over there so people can get a bite to eat before the sermon?” Cheryl asked her politely, and they left together, forcing Anthony to stay behind with this man he barely knew.
“So, um, how’s the church doing then?” Anthony asked, both nervous about being there and curious about the status of the allegedly poor place.
“Well, our attendants are happy, and we’re doing the most we can for them to create a tight-knit community, so that’s all well and good.” He said, and Anthony, now hearing the man talk more, realized his voice was not just deep, but slightly comforting as well, and highly articulate. “Unfortunately, we’re not doing well in the financial sense.”
“What about donations? From these people, from Ian?” Anthony raised his brow.
“Ian’s donations during the last few months were incredibly helpful, but some unexpected difficulties occurred. They might not be enough to see us through this storm.” He looked over the crowd of chatting Christians solemnly.
“So everything he did...it didn’t help.” Anthony felt his nervous feeling replaced by some odd sadness, a distant sort of feeling.
“It boosted morale; that is quite helpful in my opinion. I think you should take a seat, I’ll be starting soon.”
Anthony nodded and scanned the room, eventually finding Kalel and taking a seat next to her on the pew. When he sensed someone sit beside him, he turned briefly to see a handsome and familiar man looking up to the Deacon, and upon looking quickly to his own lap, recalled that it was John Marrow, Ian’s doctor. Another secret he kept, one he discovered upon seeing Ian’s dead body very briefly in a hospital room, the last time he would ever see him.
“Good morning, everyone.” The Deacon said warmly to the crowd. “If you could please find your seats among the pews so we could get started, that would be greatly appreciated.”
The typical bumps, moans and groans that came with people taking their places was heard, and echoed in the church. Anthony was just thankful he wasn’t sitting behind an old woman with a giant hat.
“Thank you everyone. We’re all gathered here, in these hallowed walls, to celebrate a life, to mourn a death; Ian Hecox was only twenty-four years old when he succumbed to cancer, but what he gave to the world was worth years of joy, years beyond which the average man could ever live.
“The ever-caring son, Ian loved his mother dearly, and showed it frequently in his actions. He was always kind and caring to her, knowing she was a bright point in his life; for truly a nurturing mother is a kind gift from the Lord.”
Anthony heard soft murmurs of agreement from the crowd he sat in. Personally, he wondered if this was going to drag on.
“Then, as a young man, he teamed up with his best friend, and they created a company that changed the lives of many young people. They made videos that created joy, laughter, passion. Things that inspired creativity, brought happiness to young people who suffered from a lack of it. And that will be his legacy, and in the future people will look up to this man, and they will beam when they think of him, for he was a man who created laughter, and that is a beautiful thing.”
Anthony continued to stare at his lap, trying to keep his mind blank. He didn’t want to care, want to feel. There was a deep and long-lasting sadness inside him, and he wanted to feel no more excess pain than that. But he could feel a touch of pride hit him for just a moment, before he forced it away, not wanting to feel any more attachment to the fans or the crew. They weren’t as good without Ian, they were a reminder that he didn’t have someone he loved - maybe someone he was really in love with - any longer.
“During the last few months of Ian’s life, he came into this church continuously, donating games, office supplies, and even a bicycle, helping families in need flourish during hard times. His generous spirit helped people he never met, without hesitation, without selfishness. Though his faith is unknown to us, though we know not if he believed in the Lord, we can be certain that after his passing, he was greeted by Saint Peter with reverence upon walking through the gates of Heaven. May his soul find peace and absolution in the duration of his eternity in God’s Kingdom. Amen.”
The people seated around Anthony repeated the final word, heads bowed with respect. He fidgeted awkwardly in his seat.
“Now you may all stand if you wish, to speak among yourselves, to visit our snack table, or to come forward to the pulpit, where my podium and the walls behind me are adorned with photos of Ian, commemorating his life. This is not a sermon, this is a community gathered together for a friend, no need for formality.”
The audience hummed lightly with assorted laughter, and started to stand and walk around. Anthony felt Marrow leave his side, and watched him walk over to examine the photos.
“We should walk around, say hi.” Kalel leaned in and muttered to him. “Some of your work friends are here.”
Anthony looked over to Drew, Zach, Daniel and Brandon, a small group of various Smosh employees. He didn’t want to go over and say hello to any of them, but Brandon turned and waved, and he was left with no choice.
“Cheryl is calling me over, I’ll say hi to your friends later, okay?” And with that she stood and departed, leaving him alone to face his friends, those whose importance would never equal that of the man whose death they were mourning.
“Hey guys.” He nodded to all of them, sadness weighing him down too much for a polite smile. They all greeted him, and he fought to ignore the pity in their eyes.
“We were just talking about Ian. Deacon Franklin gave an interesting sermon there.” Drew said, his lips pursed and his brow raised slightly. Anthony got the sinking feeling that he was suspicious of something; maybe that Ian loved him, maybe that Anthony might love him back.
“I, um, I don’t think it was technically a sermon, more of a speech. Uh, actually, I just saw an old friend that I need to say hi to, I’ll catch up with you guys later.” He gave them a half wave and walked away quickly, towards a bright, familiar pattern.
“Afternoon, Kris.” He said, shaking the elder man’s hand and looking down to his Hawaiian print shirt.
“Hello, Anthony.” He smiled. “That looked like some very professional avoiding I just witnessed.”
“Oh.” Anthony felt his cheeks redden. “I just - there was something wrong. They know something.”
“What kind of something?” Kris questioned, taking a sip of water from the little plastic cup he no doubt received from the table where the few trays of food sat.
“Like...the kind of something we discussed on Monday.” Anthony lowered his voice.
“That’s a big something.” Kris gave a heavy sigh. “Do you still feel the same way about that particular something?”
“I don’t know. I guess.” He really didn’t know. Uncertainty gripped him every day, stabbing him uncomfortably at every moment he least expected it to come.
“But you won’t admit to anyone how you felt about him. Not his mother, not your friends?” He asked, tilting his head in earnest.
“I can’t. I just can’t.” He looked over to Cheryl and Kalel, chatting almost happily. He knew Kalel read the note, but she brushed it off, so maybe she just didn’t care. Maybe she already knew.
“He wants to talk to you.” Kris said, and when Anthony turned and gave him a questioning look, he clarified. “John. Ian’s doctor.”
They looked over to him, examining photos by the pulpit, face blank.
“Why should I?” Anthony asked, seeing no way for their conversation to end well.
“He’s my friend, Anthony. He’s broken up after loosing a patient. I don’t know what he wants to say to you, but whatever it is, he needs to say it.”
Anthony let out a breath, sad and tired of it all, then nodded to Kris, leaving him to approach Marrow instead. He reached the pulpit and stood next to the taller, tan man in silence, looking over the photos. He’d seen some of them before in Ian’s old house, pictures of him as a kid, then a teenager, then an adult. In the still photos that didn’t quite catch the glimmer in his eye, he looked vibrant, happy.
“I remember when he looked like that.” Marrow said, pointing to one of the photos. Anthony recognized it as the annual fourth of July block party, one year ago. They were both in it, holding half-eaten watermelon and bearing huge smiles.
“Towards the end though...” He pointed to another picture on the podium, in the opposite corner. Fourth of July, the recent one. Four days before he died. “He just didn’t look real anymore. He looked like he’d already left, but was just hanging on.”
Anthony stayed silent, staring at the picture. Ian was sitting in the rocking chair on his neighbor’s porch; he fondly recalled that Cheryl was friends with the neighbor, and when he picked up Ian to hang out with on summer nights, the two were sat in those chairs drinking tea and gossiping. It was supposed to be a happy place, a happy little thought, but now it was tainted by the sight of Ian’s illness. Ian was pale, his eyes were sunken and purple underneath, his hair flat and lacking shine, his skin starting to turn translucent and looking sweaty.
When Anthony looked at his friend before he died, he didn’t see this. He saw Ian just a little worse than usual. He had no idea. Hell, maybe his subconscious did know, and he just tried to shove it away. Towards the end he was suspicious that something was wrong, something more than the low blood pressure Ian told him he was suffering from, but he didn’t have the nerve to bring it up; he was scared to be right.
“He was supposed to go mid-June. It was a miracle he lasted that long.” Marrow commented, looking at the pictures of his former patient as a toddler.
“You know what would’ve been a miracle? If a doctor convinced him to get some chemo so he could live longer. Past twenty four years old, at least.” Anthony muttered to him through clenched teeth, anger rising in him.
“Let me talk to you outside. Please.” Marrow turned to him, his eyes pleading.
“Why?” Anthony asked flatly.
“I went on a leave of absence after he died. I was broken up. I grew fond of your friend; let me talk to you about him, explain myself. I’ll answer any question you have.”
Anthony stared at him a moment, thinking, then nodded stiffly, and they walked outside together, weaving in between running children and doting old ladies. It was cloudy outside, minutes from raining.
“Explain. Now.” Anthony spat at him when he got to the little brick walkway outside the church, distancing himself from the man.
“I had a sister. Katherine. I loved her dearly, like you loved Ian, though maybe in a different sense.” He started, then continued when Anthony didn’t respond. “She got sick when I was young, leukemia. I had to watch her struggle for over a year. It tore my family apart. When she died, I was so relieved she wasn’t hurting anymore, but my parents still grieved for years.”
“And?” Anthony asked quietly, his back turned to the man.
“And I couldn’t stop my baby sister from dying. But if I could go back, take a year of suffering away from my family, our friends, I would in an instant. If we could’ve just pretended things were okay-”
“Like Ian did.” Anthony turned to him. “Did you convince him to keep it a secret?”
“No. I just...didn’t tell him not to. I helped him, too. I wrote out a fake prescription for a low blood pressure medicine that didn’t exist, just to fool you.”
“In May.” Anthony recalled. “You sick bastard.”
He stared at him coldly, shaking with anger.
“Ian fainted in front of me. He was barely breathing, I thought he was gonna die in my fucking car. And you helped him cover that up?”
“I’m sorry.” He called out, his facial expression full of pain. “I thought-”
“I don’t fucking care what you thought!” Anthony yelled. “You helped him when he was sick, out of his head! He made a stupid decision and no one in the world tried to talk him out of it!”
“You don’t understand!” Marrow yelled back, tears in his eyes. For so long he tried to appear emotionless towards patients, only comforting and supportive, and unwillingly pitying in front of Ian. “You don’t know what it’s like to see some kid you barely know remind you so much of someone you loved and lost. To watch someone go from a healthy looking man, broken by bad news, to the boy you had to drive home because he was on the verge of collapsing, to see his house emptied out, prepared for death. I just wanted to spare his family some pain!”
“You didn’t, asshole!” Anthony shot back. “If I knew back in January, when he found out, then I could’ve prepared myself! We could have tried to help him!”
“It was too late to help him! He was too late for chemo and radiation, and a bunch of surgeries had less than 50 percent of a chance to help him, and they were too expensive, he wasn’t covered for them by his insurance, there was nothing that could be done!” He retorted, the tears starting to spill down his cheeks.
“Telling me! That’s what could’ve been done! So I could get used to living without him just a tiny fucking bit, so I could wake up without wanting to kill myself as badly as I want to do now, so he didn’t have to say the shit he did in a stupid little note! He said he loved me, maybe I could have been with him!”
“I don’t control my patients, Mr. Padilla, I-”
“Shut the fuck up about wanting to help him! You procrastinated, that’s what you did, you dropped the truth on us at the last second because you wanted to delay the pain, but you only made things worse!” He was breathing deeply, seething with anger.
“No, Anthony.” Marrow replied quietly, gone from enraged to stoic. “Ian did that. I only helped. He’s the one you want to yell at.”
And just like that, Anthony’s anger was gone, too. Because he did want to yell at Ian, he wanted to scream, but in the end he wanted Ian to say he was sorry, for them to hug it out and sit down and play video games and for everything to be okay again. But they could never.
“I’m sorry. I really am. Ian was a good man. But at least you understand why I did what I did.” Marrow sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. “Goodnight, Anthony. Maybe we’ll see each other again.”
And he walked past him into the parking lot, not looking him in the eye.
***
In the car, the sun shining, Ian stretched comfortably beside him. Anthony smiled fondly, then got up the nerve to ask what he’d been wondering about all day.
“Ian?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you like her?” Anthony felt his chest grow tight, worried about his answer.
“Yeah, totally, I think she’s cool.” He responded, looking out the window, but something in his voice prevented Anthony from sighing in relief.
“Are you sure? I really want you to like who I’m dating...or, at least, who I’m falling for.” Anthony, stopped at a light, looked over to him, and he stood straighter in his chair and removed his sunglasses.
“Ant, I would tell you if I didn’t like her. I think she’s cool, honestly. I wouldn’t lie to you like that, I love you.” But that usual little sparkle in his eye wasn’t there.
“Thanks, man.” Anthony said, and as the light turned green, he pondered why the sparkle was gone. Maybe Ian just realized they were finally growing up; he always had a penchant for being young.
Outside the church, it started to pour. Anthony, standing alone, wiped rain and tears from his cheeks.
“I love you, too.” He whispered to the air, but there was no response from Ian. There never would be.
A/N: ahaha, did you guys see how Ian called him Ant at the end and now no one will ever call him Ant the same way again? fun stuff. thanks for reading this chapter guys :)