fic - daisy
title: daisy
pairing: brendon/ashlee, brendon/tom, brendon/ashlee/tom
disclaimer: this is complete and utter fiction, I own nothing. Lyric breaks belong to Brand New.
rating: Mature - language, sex, violence
word count: ~29,962
author's notes: written for bandomrarepair. Thanks and eternal gratitude to my beta and muse, overnighter, everything that works is thanks to her and everything that doesn't belongs to me.
summary: The world ends, but not for everyone.
- part one -
- part two -
It was sunny and warm as they drove through Pennsylvania, and it was Bronx's idea to stop and have a picnic.
They were in the middle of a stretch of farmland, and cows were roaming openly across the road.
It was quiet and peaceful, and for a few miles Brendon forgot that it was the end of the world.
Tom spread the quilt out on the ground. They'd scavenged it back in California during one of their temporary stays in a stranger's house. It was made of pink and blue swatches of cloth and Brendon liked to think it was made of a mother's leftover baby blankets for her kids, even if it did have a 'Made in China' label on the edge.
They didn't really want to take all the gear out to cook so Bronx passed out pudding cups and bottled soda while Ashlee dealt them all cards for a lazy game of poker to win back her losses from Bronx. She owed him approximately $647, 542 and all the butterscotch pudding cups, and he was threatening to collect when they hit New York.
Brendon couldn't really focus on the game, so he watched Bogart and Indie wrestling a few yards away from the blanket while Hemmy snored in his lap.
They wouldn't be playing if there were any hint of danger nearby, he knew, but he couldn’t relax. He worried about New York. Even if they did find others like them - alive and relatively sane -- if he couldn't feel good here in the calm, he doubted he could do it anywhere. He ached without Spencer, and it wasn't from the pain in his arm.
"Bren, come on, get your head in the game," Ashlee said, thumping his knee. "Your bet."
He glanced at his cards and frowned. He was getting better at bluffing. He tossed a few sporks into the middle and put his cards down again.
"What's eating you?" Tom asked softly.
"Nothing. It's just really beautiful here," Brendon said.
"Yeah. Kind of makes you forget," Tom replied.
"Yeah," Brendon said. He moved closer to lean his head on Tom's shoulder.
"No peeking, you cheater," Tom said, turning his cards away. Once he had them facedown in front of him, he slipped an arm around Brendon's waist.
"I don't have to cheat, I'm a master poker player," Brendon said.
"Royal flush. Take that suckers," Bronx announced.
"Oh my God, you're such a cheater!" Ashlee protested, pouncing on Bronx and tickling him into a giggling fit.
"You taught him how to cheat didn't you?" Brendon whispered, warm from the sun and from Tom's support.
Tom's lips tilted up for a second.
"Of course not, cheating is wrong."
"Of course," Brendon laughed.
"Give me some of your butterscotch pudding, something happened to mine," Tom said.
"Yeah, you ate it," Brendon said. He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest when Tom took the half-full cup out of his hand.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he could feel good again. Maybe they could be okay.
-----------------
As soon as they crossed the city limits into New York City, they started seeing neatly printed posters leading them to a 'Satisfaction Guaranteed Refuge'. Bronx had chattered excitedly while Tom kept his hand on Brendon's thigh so tightly his knuckles were white the further they went.
The men standing in the parking lot of the Hilton that Ashlee used to drive by on her way to Pete's apartment across town were the first people they'd seen without gray eyes since they'd found Tom.
Ashlee glanced around the bustling lobby, looking for the sign-in desk. Brendon squeezed her hand and she saw Tom's hand slip into Brendon's pocket. Bronx pulled the three of them toward the desk where a soldier was waiting.
They'd fucking made it.
"Welcome to New York. State and city of origin and names, and we'll see if anyone here matches up," the man said.
"Does that happen?" Brendon asked.
"A few times. Don't get your hopes up, I'm afraid. We're pretty disorganized. I'm not even a real soldier,” he confessed, handing over a long clipboard. “The uniform just helps people know where to sign in. Most of the military went down in the first wave, like everywhere else. We're just lucky we've got New York pretty clear of the Grays.. I'm Dennis, by the way."
"Thanks, Dennis, I'll sign us in," Tom said. "Are there, like, rooms available or do we need to set up the tent somewhere? We have dogs; they come with us wherever you put us."
"You'll all have to stay in the same room, but we've got power and even hot water, sometimes. Dogs are fine if they're housetrained. The restaurant is our clinic now, and we've got a few bona fide doctors in there even. We'll put you on the list for a checkup once you're logged and settled," Dennis said as Tom wrote their names in careful script.
"Good. Ashlee's pregnant," Tom said.
Brendon squeezed her hand.
"Congratulations. We'll move you to the top of the list," Dennis said, smiling at her kindly.
Bronx snatched his hand away and she glanced over to see why he was upset, but he was sprinting across the lobby.
"Bronx, come..." she started to say, then froze...
"Jesus," Brendon gasped when he recognized the man that had wrapped his arms around Bronx and was holding him tightly.
"Pete, fucking shit," Tom whispered.
Ashlee felt like she was going to pass out. Pete. He wasn't dead. Pete.
Dennis handed Tom a set of keys and a photocopied list of news briefs and basic rules of conduct but Ashlee couldn't look away from Pete and his long, shaggy hair and his laughing sobs as he clung to Bronx while Hemmy ran circles around them both.
"Go," Brendon whispered.
"Come with me," she replied. Tom took her free hand and the two men that had kept her and Bronx alive for the past few hellish months helped her remember how to walk.
Pete. Alive. She hadn't even let herself dream about this. He was alive...
Bronx was crying and she realized that she didn't remember him crying like that since...California. He was so strong.
"Pete Wentz, in the fucking flesh," Tom said, catching his attention.
Pete raised his eyes and she saw the moment he recognized her because everything stopped.
"Ashlee, oh my God..." Pete whispered.
"Hey," she managed before he crushed her in a hug. He kissed her face all over before finding her mouth.
She'd missed him so much and now...fuck...Pete.
-------------
Brendon thought he would have fallen down if Tom wasn't holding on to his hand.
"Conrad? Brendon? Fuck yeah," a voice said, tearing his eyes away from Ashlee and Pete's reunion.
Gabe Saporta was still freakishly tall and managed to embrace them both in one go.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Gabe whispered.
"What a long, strange trip it's been," Brendon said.
"I hear that. Brendon, please don't tell me that you brought your guitar," Gabe said, nodding at the guitar case.
"It's not...I'll show you guys later," Brendon said. It would be time to open the box soon.
"Anybody else from your side of the world?" Tom asked.
"Travie's here. Sleeping off a drunk upstairs. He helps with the burials and he gets a little wrung out. Like anybody isn't," Gabe said.
Pete pounced on Brendon from behind, pinning his arms at his side and spinning him around.
"Brendon, you fuck...thank you," Pete said breathlessly.
"You should be thanking Bronx, he's the brains behind all this. Me and Tommy are just the muscle. And Ashlee, well, she's from Texas," Brendon said shakily.
"Let's get upstairs so you guys can take a break," Gabe said.
"Get Travis, bring him to my room. You guys, none of you, are leaving my fucking sight today," Pete said. “Maybe ever again.”
Tom grabbed Brendon’s hand again and moved to his side, and they followed Gabe to the elevator. He felt Ashlee's hand slip into his other one and felt steady again.
But it didn't feel over. The journey had been too long and too many people were still dying for it to be over.
"I gave our apartment to some of the kids,” Pete confessed. “There were little ones -- babies and lost children -- and they were too skittish to stay here with all the people, so some of the nurses stay there with them. And I gave a lot of our clothes to the pool they have downstairs," Pete told Ashlee.
"I'm still getting used to the power being on," Ashlee said. “So it’s not like that upsets me.”
"There hasn't been anyone from California in a few weeks, so I think everybody is glad to see you," Gabe said.
"We didn't run into anybody...healthy," Tom said.
"What happened to your arm?" Gabe asked, turning to Brendon and nodding at the sling hanging loose around his neck.
"Brendon's gangsta now," Bronx said.
"The pups missed a crazy back in California. It's kind of fucked up," Brendon said.
"The bullet went into the bone and then the fucker wouldn't stop using it," Ashlee said.
"We're in here, 421," Pete said, unlocking the door. Bogart and Indie rushed in before the door was even fully open.
"They have to clear it first," Bronx said.
"They've saved our ass so many times that sometimes I think they're in charge," Tom said.
"They can't work the can opener yet, that's the only reason," Brendon said.
Bogart barked and they moved into the room.
"Don't listen to him, our dogs are awesome," Bronx said.
Brendon sat down on the clean bed and Tom carefully pulled the guitar strap over Brendon’s head and slid Brendon’s arm into the sling. He would have rolled his eyes but he appreciated Tom's attentiveness too much. Tom seemed to know when his arm was acting up.
"Is he..." Pete started to ask, then trailed off.
"He's fine. We all space sometimes," Ashlee said.
"Sorry," Brendon said. "I can't believe that...we made it here. That you're alive."
"Trust me, I didn't believe it either. I was in the club and...it was...just...everybody fell," Pete said.
"You gotta be shitting me," Travis said, skidding into the room with Gabe, his pick stuck in his wild hair.
"Hey, Travie," Tom said.
When they were all sitting down and Tom's hand was loosely tethered to his wrist, he picked up the guitar case and stretched it across their laps.
"Is it music time?" Pete asked.
"No. But I'm only opening it once. I'm not telling it more than once," Brendon said.
They were all silent even though he hadn't told anyone what was inside and Tom had to help him work the latches.
The sheet of paper with the names was a little smeared but he didn't need it. He remembered it all.
-------------
Ashlee felt too far away from Brendon, sitting across the room instead of on the bed, but Tom had him and she trusted Tom more than anyone else to take care of him. She had Pete and Brendon would have Tom when he was ready.
He'd never opened the case in front of her. He'd never even told her what was inside.
"I had an address book -- on paper because I always lost my phone. And when I realized what was going on; when Regan died and Shane tried to choke me," Brendon started in a low monotone, "I knew shit was bad. So I took my board and Bogie and Indie...because Dylan wouldn't leave them...I took them to the streets. Got a gun after the people got...more trigger-happy. And I went to the closest houses first."
Ashlee saw him slide the two wedding rings on his finger but she couldn't break the silence. He was only going to say it once, he’d said, and she believed him. She still sort of couldn’t believe he was finally going to tell her - tell all of them - what had happened.
He pulled out a gold watch with a scuffed face.
"Patrick. He was in the pool. Trohman was in the kitchen," he continued, pulling out a chain bracelet. He held them out and Pete's hand was shaking when he took them.
"Katy and Vicky T were together. And I found your Eric at an In and Out," Brendon said, pulling more jewelry from the box and handing it to Travis and Gabe.
"Damn, Bren..." Gabe whispered.
"Alex, Nate and Ryland were together. Eric, Ryan and Greenwald were in the studio," Brendon said, still in that blank voice. "Jon was there, too."
Tom turned his face into Brendon's shoulder and clenched Jon's guitar strap tightly in his hand.
Brendon met her gaze. "Jessica was at the end of your street. She was still in the car."
Ashlee shuddered when he dropped the cross necklace into her hand. Oh, God, her sister had been so close...
"I didn't find anyone else. And Ashlee and Bronx were the only ones I found alive. Sane," he said.
"What about Spencer?" Pete asked.
She saw Brendon's fingers skirt over a pair of drumsticks that were spattered with the brown of dried blood. Brendon shook his head an instant before he walked abruptly into the bathroom and closed the door.
"He even took Dylan's collar," Bronx whispered.
Tom reached down and closed the guitar case.
“Spencer’s gone,” he said.
"And Brendon doesn't have to talk about it again," Ashlee said firmly.
Bogart started scratching on the bathroom door and the toilet flushed a moment before Brendon walked out again.
"Are we good?" Brendon asked shakily.
"Yeah, Bden. All good," Travis whispered.
Tom embraced Brendon as soon as he sat down again but Brendon was stiff.
"Is there coffee in this place?" Brendon asked.
"No coffee. You had last shift driving. It's your turn to sleep," Ashlee said.
"But, dude, they have a total working Starbucks downstairs," Gabe said.
"Sleep first, we'll bring you a grande," Ashlee said.
"Can we crash here?" Tom asked.
Pete didn't hesitate at the 'we'. "Yeah, we'll step out..."
"We can sleep anywhere," Brendon answered. "Stay."
-------------
He woke up cold and realized that it was because there was air conditioning, and there were real lights on overhead. Tom's familiar nicotine breath was warm on his cheek and he recognized Bronx's soft snore from between them.
"She needs prenatal vitamins, and her iron was low with Bronx. Have you been spotting, baby?" Pete's voice was hushed and worried.
"No, Bren got me the same kind of vitamins I took with Bronx and they haven't let me lift anything in weeks," Ashlee said.
He hadn't thought about how Pete would react to his wife being pregnant with someone else's child. Brendon’s child.
"We've got an ultrasound in the clinic, we'll check it out. You're healthier than most of the women we get here," the old man in the white coat said.
Pete caught his eye, but Brendon didn't move. Then Pete smiled.
"Get up, loser, and let Dr. Jenkins look at your arm,” he said.
Brendon sat up, careful not to disturb Tom or Bronx, and moved stiffly to the bench beside Pete.
Pete looped an arm around his neck and leaned in close to his ear.
"You gave me my family back. Our family," he said, moving Brendon's hand across his lap to where Ashlee sat on his other side, pressing it over Ashlee's rounded stomach. "We're going to get our kids back to a life that isn't full of death. And you're probably the only person in the world that I'd want banging my wife when I couldn't."
He grinned again as Brendon groaned softly.
"Shut up," Ashlee giggled, thumping his ear.
"Seriously. We're alive, and that's all that matters, ever, okay?" Pete said.
"Let's see that arm, son," Dr. Jenkins said.
Brendon unzipped his hoodie and pushed up the sleeve of his t-shirt to show the angry scar.
The doctor was gentle, probing the sore spot and then down the length of his arm to his wrist.
"How's your movement?"
"Hurts like a bitch when I pick anything up, no matter how small. And if I use it too long -- like if I’m driving a distance -- it goes numb, thank God. My fingers don't always cooperate, either," Brendon admitted.
"He can't play guitar. Or piano," Ashlee whispered.
"I can shoot a gun," Brendon said. "I just can't aim it."
"We can probably fix it, get you some PT," the doctor said. "We'll do some x-rays at the clinic. We take patients over there a couple of times a week. We'll let you know when to meet us."
"They'll be there, Doc," Pete said.
"Get some rest, dinner's in an hour," the doctor said.
"My shift to sleep," Ashlee said, kissing Pete and squeezing Brendon's hand before taking his place on the bed.
"I don't know how you guys did it," Pete said quietly. "I've been here, safe, helping these guys get people together, but I’ve been safe and you've been...fighting and starving and..."
"We made it, Pete. Ashlee and Bronx, and Tom, they're fucking amazing."
"So are you, Bren. You came for them -- Hell, you looked for everyone. You fucking...you saved them."
"We saved each other," Brendon said. "If I hadn't found them... I needed them so much, Pete. I’m sorry . . ."
"But you did find them. And you found Tommy. And you found us again. The baby...it's a gift from whoever's left up there. You love her, you love my son and nothing that comes out of that is ever going to be a bad thing. We're all good," Pete said .
"And the baby..." Brendon whispered.
"You've been like a stepdad to Bronx for months, man. We're not taking your kid away from you. I don't think Ashlee's going to let you or Tom out of her sight any time soon anyway. Gabe and I were thinking about Spain, though" Pete said.
"What?" Brendon asked.
"Spain. They're one of the few countries that didn't take massive casualties. I have some money in Swiss accounts that can help with the rescue and...and we can give the kids, at least, a life," Pete said quietly.
"Why aren't you already there?" Brendon asked.
Pete turned the watch and bracelet that were now on his thin wrist, looking at Ashlee and Bronx on the bed.
"Yeah. I get it," Brendon said.
Pete nodded.
"It's a miracle. I still can’t believe you’re all here. I never really gave up hope, you know, but even I thought I was delusional."
Gabe peeked in the door and smiled brightly when he saw Brendon.
Now that he'd had some rest, Brendon could see the weariness behind Gabe's eyes. But he had a cup of coffee in his hand, which he swiftly transferred over to Brendon. He almost believed there was still a God when he took his first sip.
-------------
Ashlee felt steadier, finally, after a real shower with hot water, and clean clothes. Seeing Bronx and Pete laughing beside her at the table in the lounge was a scene she had never thought she'd see again.
She spotted Brendon out of the corner of her eye, sitting close beside Tom as Gabe gestured wildly across from them in conversation, making them both smile.
"Go on," Pete said to Bronx as he turned towards that side of the room. Bronx glanced at her for final permission, and she nodded. He smiled at her and hurried over to sit with Brendon and Tom, and she saw Pete’s eyes follow him, then linger on Tom, pressed up against Brendon.
"How long has that been going on?" he asked
"Probably since we got Tommy. The three of us -- we needed something to make us forget sometimes," she said. "But for Tom, I think, it’s more than that with Brendon. I don't think Brendon gets it yet, but Tom's in it for the long haul," she said.
Tom had his hand on the back of Brendon's neck, underneath his shaggy hair, keeping him close.
"Tom didn't have a Spencer, either," Pete said quietly. “I think Brendon probably just needs some time.”
"Yeah," Ashlee said. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again, that you would be here and alive. But I didn’t know, and I couldn’t let you go, not really. And here you are, . .” She paused for a moment to get her voice under control as she choked up before she nodded towards Brendon. “He knows Spencer's gone. I think... I think he had to kill him."
Pete pulled her close..
"We'll take care of him. Tommy, too. You're safe now, all of you. We'll have time to take care of the rest."
"Have...have you been here the whole time?" Ashlee asked.
"A while. I helped set things up where I could. People recognized me, you know? I tried to keep myself distracted by helping the people that showed up, hoping someone I knew would turn up.” He shook his head, and she felt his arms tighten around her. “Still had it better than some people. Jesus, Gabe and Travis came in looking like fucking POWs. Guns and ammo strapped on like they were in Mad Max or something. They were already in New York when it hit. Travie had been looking for his dog and Gabe, I'm not sure what he was doing when they hooked up. He's a little messed up," Pete said softly.
Ashlee glanced at him.
"Are you guys..."
Pete shrugged.
"Yeah. He's one of my best friends. You weren’t the only ones who...needed something."
"I get it. Is he okay?" Ashlee asked. “I mean, now that we’re here, did you want to . . you still could . . .”
Pete shook his head.
"He gets it. It hadn't happened in a while, even before you all got here. He's been getting better, and it isn’t the only thing that gets through to him anymore. And you're here now," Pete whispered, pulling her in for a kiss. "If I could let Bronx out of my sight for one minute, I'd take you upstairs and make love to you all night."
"Brendon and Tom can..." Ashlee started.
"I don't want them to, not yet. It's been too long.” He glanced around the lounge again, at the different small groups of families and friends gathered, and sighed. “All that time we spent separated, working to make money for our careers, and what does it matter now? The only thing that matters is my family. Nothing's more important than this, right now," Pete said. "We'll make time for the -- bedroom stuff -- later."
-------------
Brendon woke with a gasp, and the only thing keeping him from letting out a scream was the fact that he recognized the warm arms around him, and heard Tom's familiar whisper in his ear.
He hated the dreams.
They weren't even nightmares anymore, just memories of his life before everyone went supernova. Surfing, bowling with Shane and Regan. Making love to Spencer until they were both too sore to walk without limping.
"Yeah?" Tom murmured when he realized he was awake.
"Yeah. Okay," Brendon replied, winding his arm around Tom and twisting his fingers in Tom’s thin t-shirt. After a moment he turned his face into Tom’s chest.
Tom stroked his hair, his fingers rough against his scalp. "We're safe now, Bren."
"Safe. Yeah. Okay," Brendon whispered, but he couldn’t stop his shudder.
"What?" Tom whispered.
"Do you...do you think it'll ever be...okay again? Or do you think we'll all finally go crazy, too and start killing each other? Do you think...we'll ever be okay?"
Tom pulled him closer.
"Hey, we made it. Fuck knows why, but we made it through. And when the...sick ones finally kill each other off, or die off, we'll have our world back. And we'll find what happiness we can. What is it -- cup half empty, half full or whatever?"
Brendon snorted at Tom's fumbling attempt at a metaphor and Tom kissed his forehead
"I...I think we should talk. Soon," Tom said.
Brendon pulled away and looked up at him, feeling his stomach twist.
"What is it?" he asked. He felt Tom’s arms tighten as he pulled Brendon back down.
"It's nothing bad! I just...I want to tell you something before I lose my chance. So I can at least say it out loud once before you...move on or whatever," Tom mumbled.
"Tommy..." Brendon started. What was this?
Tom sighed.
"I love you. I...I don't want to be alone anymore and I don't want ... I don’t want to share you. I want us to have this. This is ours. And I know you're not ready, and I don't blame you for that, but...there it is. I want you, okay? More than just a fuckbuddy...more than just the last guy on the planet," Tom said. His eyes were bright in the dark room. "I just want you. I’ll take whatever you’ll give me, but I wanted you to know that."
Brendon didn't know what to say but Tom's eyes were so serious and fucking honest that Brendon almost couldn't look at him. He turned away, but Tom didn't let him leave the bed, keeping his arm anchored around Brendon’s waist.
"Please. Don't leave...I...it doesn't matter if you feel the same way, it's...I just had to tell you, okay?" Tom said.
"I know . . . I-- Shit, Tommy, don't make me say it...just...I..." Brendon wasn't even sure what he was trying to say, but Tom deserved an explanation, even if it was all Brendon could give him. He clutched at Tom’s arm, still wound around his waist. "I can't say it. I can’t watch you die, and everyone I ever -- they died, they all died, and I can't...don't make me say it. I don't want to say it when...I can't say it, but . . .."
He had a flash of memory, a splash of red against a baffled wall, and he remembered Spencer's grey-glazed eyes, and the way the blood dripping down onto the drum kit sounded like miniature beats. He couldn’t go through that again, he thought as he started to hyperventilate.
"Okay, Bren, okay,” Tom crooned. “Look at me, you don't have to, hey..."
His vision cleared and he recognized Tom's eyes and his mouth and his steady hands.
Tom was here. Tommy was always there.
He threw himself at Tom, pulling him into a two-armed hug, , no longer caring about the pain.
"I wish I could be who you really want," Brendon whispered.
"You don't have to wish for what you already are,” Tom said softly. Tom was shaking in his arms.
“And...you don't have to say it, ever,” Tom said urgently. "Just...don't leave me..."
"Oh, Tommy, I wouldn't, I..." Brendon trailed off, holding him tightly.
"I just wanted you to know, okay? I just...I think I'm more scared now that we’re here than I was when it was just us on the road. Then, I knew you needed me. Now -- I...I don't want to lose you."
"You won't. Ever. I promise," Brendon whispered.
"I'm here for you. As much as you’ll let me be," Tom murmured.
"I know. I just...can't."
"I know. I'll wait. This is enough for me. It'll always be enough," Tom said.
Brendon held on and tried not to fall.
"I won't leave you," Brendon reiterated. “Can that - can that be enough for now?”
Tom kissed him gently and Brendon closed his eyes and held on tighter.
-------------
Well if we take all these things
and we bury them fast
And we'll pray that they turn into seeds,
to roots and then grass
It'd be all right, it's all right,
it'd be easier that way.
-------------
Ashlee stretched out on the cot in the clinic and tried not to freak out as the doctors made their way over to her with the rolling ultrasound machine.
"Mom? You look scared," Bronx said. "You want me to go get Brendon?"
Pete glanced over at him from her other side, where he was holding her hand, a flash of hurt in his eyes.
"No, baby, I'm okay. Just nervous," she said, squeezing Pete’s hand in sympathy at the same time.
Bronx squeezed her arm.
"Okay. Don't be nervous."
"I'm sure the baby's fine," Pete said, scooting his chair closer and urging Bronx to share with him. After a minute, Bronx took him up on the offer, and Ashlee saw Pete’s shoulders relax.
"I hope so. I can't take losing anything else," she admitted.
"You won't, Mom," Bronx whispered.
"Little man's become the man of the house, huh?" Pete smiled.
"You should've heard him ream out Brendon when we told him about the baby," Ashlee said. “He might have a career with Planned Parenthood in his future, if there’s ever a Planned Parenthood again.”
"I didn't mean it," Bronx said, frowning. He looked at Pete. "I didn't mean it, Dad. I hurt Brendon."
"Hey, buddy, I'm sure he knows you didn't mean to hurt him. We all say things we don't mean sometimes. You were just defending your mom's honor," Pete said, surprised.
"It still wasn't fair. But Tommy says we all have to blow up sometimes," Bronx said.
Ashlee reached over and ruffled his hair. "You sure you want to be here for this?"
"Yeah, I want to see if there’s a little brother or a little sister in there," Bronx said. Pete put an arm around him and pulled him close.
What the fuck are you doing?
Tom's voice caught their attention from across the room and the whole place went silent for a few moments.
"I'll be right back, don't start without me," Pete said, catching the panic in her eyes as she reacted automatically to Tom’s distress.
Dude, chill. Seriously.
Brendon didn't sound upset in the least, and she felt her heart slow down in response.
The doctor appeared before Pete even stood up, though, and she had to force herself to let Brendon deal with Tom or vice versa.
They were grown men, and they had each other. She had to start to recognize that. The baby had to come first.
She answered the doctor's questions as calmly as she could, naming the vitamins she'd been taking and telling him about her lack of morning sickness -- all the things she'd told the other doctor.
"Your blood test says that you're almost five months along," the doctor said, putting down her clipboard and smiling kindly at Ashlee..
"I have no idea what day it even is," she admitted.
"The world ended seven months and three days ago ," Bronx said.
She wondered if she should be showing more. She wondered if it had happened the first time she had asked Brendon to fuck her. She wondered how many cigarettes she'd smoked with the tiny baby already inside her.
"Hey," Pete said, squeezing her hand.
"Yeah, okay. Is it okay?"
"Let's see," the doctor smiled, squeezing some gel into her hand.
"Go get Brendon now, he should see the first picture of his baby," Pete said to Bronx. When he hurried off, Pete moved to sit on the bed with her.
"Good idea," she said.
The doctor pushed her shirt up so she could get to Ashlee’s stomach, then pushed the cool probe across her abdomen, smearing the gel.
"Somewhere, there is a baby in here," the doctor said, even though the screen remained empty.
Bronx returned, pulling Tom by the hand with Brendon trailing behind in a new, stiff sling with splinted fingers.
"Ah, there we are. Looks like your baby's right on track, steady heartbeat, good size," the doctor smiled, raising a hand to point out the small blob on screen. "He or she is not cooperating, so I can’t tell you the sex with the way it's turned, but we'll keep an eye on it."
"Oh," Brendon whispered when Pete pulled him over to stand beside his side of the bed.
Bronx was grinning widely and turned to them.
"So it's okay?"
"Yeah, B, it's okay," Pete said. He didn't let go of her hand, but he elbowed Brendon. "Can you see?"
"Yeah," Brendon whispered. "I see it."
She closed her eyes, letting her relief show as tears trickled down her cheeks. She opened her eyes when Pete started to kiss her tears away and saw Brendon slip his hand into Tom's, sharing a secret smile with him.
"Congratulations," the doctor said.
"After everything that's happened, it's good to see some life coming into the world instead of just going out," Tom said softly.
"Hell yeah, Conrad, hell yeah," Pete murmured into her hair.
-------------
Brendon was dozing against Tom's shoulder in one of the dining-room booths, his stomach full of waffles and fresh eggs and his mind fuzzy from the new painkillers. Tommy had insisted that he take the full dose. Tom had been protective of them all, but after their conversation last night, he wasn't trying to hide his worry about Brendon anymore. When the doctor had injected him with an anti-inflammatory earlier, Tommy'd flipped out a little.
But the image of Brendon's tiny baby on the ultrasound had restored some calm to them all.
Tom and Travie's steady conversation was soothing him into sleep, and Bogart was snoring softly in his lap.
"Bren, hey, there's a girl over there staring holes into you," Tom said softly, tapping his good arm.
He blinked and tried to focus.
"Where?"
"Blonde by the desk," Tom said, nodding his chin towards her.
It took him a second to recognize her.
"Let me out," Brendon said with what little breath he could get out. Travis took Bogie out of his lap before Brendon knocked him to the floor.
Tom sensed the urgency and slid out, watching the girl warily as she approached.
"Brendon," Crystal said, hugging him before he could get fully to his feet and pushing him back a step into Tom.
"Shit, Crystal, are you okay? What..."
Oh, God. Spencer's baby sister.
"Yeah, but..." her eyes skimmed across the table. "He's not here, is he?"
He shook his head.
"I'm so sorry....Are you -- is Jackie okay? Ginger and Jeff?" Brendon asked.
She shook her head and he saw her fighting back tears, still holding onto him tightly.
"No. Mom...she fell at the beginning. Dad and Jackie...they...you know. If it hadn't been for Cory...we wouldn't have made it out..."
Brendon remembered Cory's name but couldn't place him.
"Thank God...shit, Crys..."
"Who would've guessed that my twin sister's hateful fiancé would end up saving my ass," she snorted, finally releasing him. "Oh, shit, you're hurt, what..."
Brendon felt Tom's hand steadying him from behind as Brendon shrugged off her question.
"It's bad everywhere. It's okay. Guys, this is Crystal. Spencer's sister," he said to the rest of the table.
"Shit, girl, sit down," Travie said, sliding over in the booth.
Brendon felt back and found Tom's hand. He didn't think he could handle this by himself.
"Oh God, Bogart," Crystal said, scooping up the small dog and hugging him despite his struggle at being jostled again out of his nap.
"How'd you get out? Were you in Vegas?" Travis asked.
"Yeah. We were all in town for my sister's wedding shower. And then when everything went down...Cory got me to the airport. There were a few people hiding out in some of the hangars. I think they were all waiting for a pilot. And Cory's ex-military - he used to fly F-16s. So I got to play copilot. We brought about fifteen people with us, we didn't want to wait too long," she said, looking at Brendon like he might disappear. “We’ve been here almost since the beginning. I don’t know how I missed you.”
Brendon sat down beside her, pulling Tom in with him despite his continued silence. Crystal slid in next to Brendon, crowding them all into the booth, and reached for his hand.
"We passed your parents' place on the way to the airport,” she said. “I'm sorry."
He nodded, and closed his eyes for a moment.
"Yeah, I -- we passed through Vegas. I checked and saw...all my family. There was no one at your parents’, though. I had hoped that meant . . .” he trailed off, and opened his eyes, catching her gaze. “Did you...you put flowers down?"
"Everywhere we passed, yeah. Had to do something, you know?" she said, shivering.
"Yeah," he said. All he'd done was close their eyes. He hadn’t even been able to say a prayer.
Tom squeezed his hand.
"Did you just get here?" she asked.
"Yeah. Me, Ashlee and Bronx were in California. We picked up Tommy somewhere in Utah. I checked your place in Vegas..." he repeated.
"We were at the Civic Center already. Shit, Brendon...it's just so good to see you - I kept seeing Pete Wentz but I avoided him. I was afraid to ask him. I just...kept praying..." Crystal said.
"I'm so sorry...I..." Brendon started.
"Hey," Tom whispered.
"You don't have to apologize. I know...I know how much you loved my brother. You'd have saved him if you could. That's the thing about this...virus or whatever the fuck it is, it didn't even give us the chance," Crystal said. "We just have to...make the best of what we have left."
Brendon didn't know how she'd feel about him clutching Tom's hand underneath the table, but he needed him too much to let go.
She waved over a well-built blond guy and her face relaxed.
"Cory, this is Brendon, he's...he was...my brother's boyfriend," she said. He raised an eyebrow and she just shook her head once, quickly.
Brendon shook his hand and smiled at him even though the past tense took his breath. God.
"Heard a lot of good things about you," Cory said, but he studied Brendon warily.
"You, too. Crys says you saved her life," Brendon managed.
Cory's eyes flickered over to her.
"Yeah, well, she kind of saved mine, too."
Crystal turned to him.
"Do you think Jackie would hate me?" she whispered.
He glanced between the two again. Oh.
"I think she'd be glad that you're taking care of each other," he said.
She smiled, blushing and letting her tears fall, and pulled him into another hug.
"Spencer would be happy for you, too," she murmured in his ear.
"Brendon, Daddy wants to talk to you upstairs," Bronx said, running up to the table.
"Everything all right?" he asked.
"Yeah, it’s about the baby. They've got more medical stuff to ask you about," Bronx said.
"Tell him we'll be right up," Brendon said, pausing to pet Hemmy before he hurried off behind Bronx again. Both the boy and the dogs had a bounce in their steps that he hadn't seen before.
"Baby?" Crystal asked.
"Ash and Bren were alone a while," Tom answered for him.
"Oh," she said softly. "Good for you guys. Babies are always good. Is Pete mad at you?"
"No, he gets it. It took us months to get across the country. And everyone's okay. We don't have time to be mad when we're too busy being alive," Tom answered.
"Yeah," Crystal nodded.
Brendon didn't really think he could handle much more conversation before he broke down but she turned to Tom, narrowing her eyes and giving him the Smith glare. God, it had been so long since he’d seen that face.
"You fuck him up and I will cut you,” she warned.
Tom smiled at her.
"Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before. I'm trying to stay on top of it."
"Good. Go talk. I'll get your room number from this tall dark gentleman," she said, nodding to Travie. "And we'll be seeing you later."
"Tell her about Spain," Tom said.
"Spain?" Cory asked.
"Spain," Travis stated. "Yes. Could use your input, dude, if you're really a pilot like Ms. Smith says. Buenos Dias and all that."
Brendon kissed her cheek, leaving her with Travis and the pilot and letting Tom guide him to the elevator.
"Hey, hey, you're shaking," Tom whispered, stopping him in the hallway.
"She's...she's alive..." Brendon said.
Tom hesitated but embraced him.
"She doesn't...hate me...she doesn't blame me..." he said, pinching his eyes closed.
Tom pushed his fingers through Brendon’s hair, as Brendon turned his face into Tom’s chest. "You did everything you could. Deep down, you know that."
"I killed him, Tommy...I killed him, and Shane and...I killed him, Tommy."
"He was dead before you had to do that. It wasn't him, Bren. You know it wasn't him. It was...he wouldn't have wanted to exist like that, if you’d left him alive to keep hurting people. He's...he's in a better place. You can't do this to yourself...you can't keep doing this to yourself. You have to remember all the parts, not just the end. That wasn't him and you know it," Tom murmured in his ear.
"Sorry...I'm..."
"Shh. Come on, let's go up and you can splash water on your face and sit down. I'll bring Pete to you," Tom said. "Okay?"
He nodded into Tom’s chest.
"Thank you. Yeah, let's do that. I don't want to flip out in front of everybody. And I think if I start crying, I won't be able to stop."
"Then we'll have to keep you from crying," Tom said. "Come on."
-------------
Ashlee knocked softly on Brendon and Tom's door, waiting for one of them to let her in.
It took a few minutes too long, and she half expected Tom to be naked when he opened the door, but he was fully clothed. He looked exhausted.
"What is it?" she asked immediately.
"He's just having a...moment. Spencer's sister's alive," Tom replied.
Ashlee huffed out a breath.
"Shit. The twins?"
"One of them," Tom said, nodding toward the bed where Brendon was curled on his side.
She paused long enough to give Tom a hug.
"What happened in the clinic today?" she asked, since it was the first time she’d seen them since then.
"Oh. That was nothing. The guy stuck this long-ass needle in his arm. It hurt him, but he handled it like a trooper, like it was nothing. But now I can't get him to stop shaking," Tom said.
"What did she say?" Ashlee asked.
"That it wasn't his fault. You know, the same stuff we tell him," Tom whispered. "But coming from her, I think it was too much."
"Give me a few minutes with him." Ashlee said, waiting for him to step outside before walking over to Brendon. She knelt on the bed and carefully put her hands on his arm. "Bren?"
"I'm okay," Brendon whispered, but even his voice was trembling.
"No, you're not. You're flipping out. Tommy said so," she replied.
"Tommy worries too much," Brendon said.
"No such thing these days," she replied. "Will you look at me?"
Brendon didn't move.
"Tom says he loves me. You're having my baby. Crystal's alive and she doesn't hate me. But...everything...shit, Ash. I think I might love Tommy back, but I shouldn’t. And I don't think I can be a father with so many people's blood on my hands. And I can't take Crys' forgiveness when I...I killed her brother. I can't...do any of this.."
She stopped waiting for him to roll over and curled up behind him, spooning him. She felt the warmth of the sheets and knew Tom had probably been in the same spot.
"Yes you can. You can do anything. You can skateboard around California with your tiny dogs and check on your friends. You can save a woman and her son from dying alone and give them hope. You can find love in a world filled with death and loss. You can give a girl who lost everything a family again."
"I...I don't know how much more I can take, Ash," Brendon said finally. He turned over so they were lying face to face. "I don't know if I can ever...be...enough."
"You saved us, Bren. Me and Bronx and Tom, you took care of us. Through everything. You've always been enough. You don't have to give anyone anything more than you already have. And you have to let us take care of you. We've been running on instinct and fear for so long that we have to remember how to live again without being terrified of dying."
Brendon shuddered and she pressed her forehead against his so he'd look at her.
"We have to appreciate the things we have left," she said.
"That's what Crystal said," Brendon said.
"Smart girl, obviously. Hey, everybody that knows you knows how much you and Spencer loved each other. And anybody that sees you with Tom knows that he loves you, too. You have to...you have to let Spencer go, Bren. You can't give up on your life because he's gone. You're still here. There aren't many people that got a second chance."
Brendon turned his face into her neck when she pulled him into a tight hug. "I guess we are pretty lucky."
"The luckiest," Ashlee said. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah. Thank you. Will you send Tommy back in? I think...we should probably talk."
"You both need to rest. We all do. I'm just going to go upstairs and have sex with my husband while my son wins us some goodies in the poker game he's got going on with Gabe and Travie," Ashlee said.
"That kid can do anything," Brendon smiled.
"Please get some rest. Call me if you need me," Ashlee said.
"I'm not calling you tonight. But you better make Pete give you some of that foreplay that you were deprived of for so long," Brendon said.
"Shut up," she laughed, sitting up.
"You should mention that foreplay stuff to Tom, too. Maybe I can get in on that action," he said, then smiled, the light a little stronger in his eyes.
"I'll put a word in for you," she promised, leaning down to kiss him gently. "Rest, okay?"
"You, too. You're sleeping for two, you know?" he said.
She let herself cup his cheek for an extra moment and he smiled. "We're okay. We'll be okay now."
She actually believed it now.
-------------
I will keep you safe and sound.
Does anybody remember back when you were very young,
did you ever think that you would be this blessed?
-------------
Epilogue
Tom stripped off his t-shirt and dropped it in the laundry pile, wrinkling his nose at the nasty smell from the pile of discarded clothes. He tried to remember whose turn it was to do the laundry this week.
"Tommy, seriously, can you put a leash on that kid? He's chasing the cows again," Gabe yelled from the kitchen.
He rolled his eyes, pulling the curtains back and seeing Spencer running through the yard with a shiny pinwheel Brendon had given to him before he left for work.
This was definitely not the life he thought he'd have.
He pushed the window up and let the breeze cool his skin, hot from the day's sun where he'd been helping Gabe and Travie set up the new satellite dish in town.
"Spencer Wentz! Get your ass in the house!" Tom yelled. The boy let out ringing laugh, his grin just as bright as his dad's and his blue eyes, like his mom's, shining from several yards away.
The kid was growing way too fast for Tom to process and he looked so much like Brendon that he wondered how Pete could deal with it every day.
But Pete treated Spencer just like he treated his biological kids, Bronx and his baby twins, Jessica and Patrick.
The kids had parents in every house on the street, even if the DNA was different.
Gabe and Travis shared the house at the end of the road, a kennel of dogs behind their house. All of the new arrivals got a free dog for protection.
Ashlee and Pete's house was right next door, close enough that they could hear the twins cry and hear Bronx's girlfriend sneaking out.
They hadn't gone to Spain after all.
Enough scientists had survived the apocalypse to research the Rapture -- as most people called it now - and figure out what had happened. It took a while for the news to spread about the mutated bacteria carried by spores from an algae bloom in the Pacific and blown around the world in the jet stream. It had fed off the pre-frontal cortex of the human brain, unlike anything they’d ever seen before, killing everything that made people human - personality, moral centers -- and leaving only sparse cognitive function and the instinct to survive.
It was too late to save the infected, but they’d managed to stop the spread, and to figure out a vaccine for those who still remained.
The science didn't matter to Tom.
What mattered to Tom was that the disease was gone, the mutated bacteria dying off as its hosts did. They'd stayed in Manhattan for a year -- making plans and waiting for the straggling Grays to die off.
Tom didn't think he'd ever grown up, not really, before the Rapture. Drinking, playing music, traveling, that had been his life. But here, he was a responsible adult.
He went downstairs and patted Gabe on the back and held the door open for Spencer to run into the house he shared with Brendon.
"Where's your keeper?" he demanded.
"Bronx said I could play outside," Spencer said, throwing his arms around Tom's legs breathlessly.
This was his life now. Husband, stepfather, town elder in a tiny town perched in what had once been Westchester County.
"You're not supposed to chase the cows, Spence. Did you step in cow poo?" Tom asked.
Gabe snorted.
"What? You said 'poo'," He protested. Spence rolled his eyes.
"He's not supposed to say 'shit'," Spencer said. "You know that, Uncle Gabey."
Tom had never been a 'kid' person before. But watching Spencer grow up meant everything to him now.
"Sorry, kid," Gabe said.
The door opened and Brendon walked in, smiling. Brendon was always smiling these days. It made Tom’s heart clench a little, still, every time he saw it, though.
"Hey," Brendon said, pulling him close and kissing him even though Gabe and Spencer made gagging noises behind them. "Why the shirtlessness? Is the AC not working?"
"Just got home. Satellite dish is online, though," Tom said.
"Hell yeah," Brendon said. "About time we're linked up full time with the rest of the world."
Tom released him and watched him crouch down to embrace his son.
"Missed you, Spence. What did you do all day?"
"I was playing with the cows but Daddy Tom made me stop," Spencer said, hugging him.
Spencer had lots of daddies, but he didn’t seem to mind.
"You shouldn't bother the cows, Spence. We need them for yummy milk. Where's your brother?" Brendon asked, hiding his smile.
"He's playing with Sally in his room again," Spence said.
"That kid, I swear he gets more play than any of us every did," Gabe said. "And I got a lot of play at that age."
"I want to play, too," Spencer said, misunderstanding and making them all laugh.
"Come on, kidlet, you can chase the dogs at my house all you want," Gabe said, standing up and scooping Spencer in his arms to balance him on his hip.
"Can I, Daddy B?" Spencer asked.
"Be home for dinner, both of you," Brendon said, sliding an arm around Tom.
"Yes, sir," Gabe and Spencer said, collapsing into giggles as soon as they were outside.
"How was your day?" Tom asked.
"Long. Had three new students today, though. I'm never going to get the hang of teaching math when I don't know it myself," Brendon said.
Tom snickered. Brendon was great with kids, so it hadn't taken much to get him to help with the school, but music was only one of the classes and he came home almost every day complaining about quadratic equations and periodic tables.
Tom loved it. He loved Brendon.
"Crystal graduated one today, the Harris kid. He's going to take over math classes so I can spend more time with the twins while Ashlee goes back full time at the clinic," Brendon said.
"Yeah?" Tom didn't fight his grin. "More time with the twins and with your sweaty boyfriend?"
"Maybe a little time with my boyfriend, when I'm not hanging out with you," Brendon joked.
Tom punched him in the shoulder. "Loser."
"You're a loser," Brendon said.
"I'm your loser," Tom said
Brendon laughed and pulled him close, kissing his neck sloppily. "Yeah, you're totally my bitch."
"In your dreams," Tom snorted.
"Yep, there, too," Brendon snickered. "Let's go get you cleaned up so I can get you dirty again."
-------------
Poll
pairing: brendon/ashlee, brendon/tom, brendon/ashlee/tom
disclaimer: this is complete and utter fiction, I own nothing. Lyric breaks belong to Brand New.
rating: Mature - language, sex, violence
word count: ~29,962
author's notes: written for bandomrarepair. Thanks and eternal gratitude to my beta and muse, overnighter, everything that works is thanks to her and everything that doesn't belongs to me.
summary: The world ends, but not for everyone.
- part one -
- part two -
It was sunny and warm as they drove through Pennsylvania, and it was Bronx's idea to stop and have a picnic.
They were in the middle of a stretch of farmland, and cows were roaming openly across the road.
It was quiet and peaceful, and for a few miles Brendon forgot that it was the end of the world.
Tom spread the quilt out on the ground. They'd scavenged it back in California during one of their temporary stays in a stranger's house. It was made of pink and blue swatches of cloth and Brendon liked to think it was made of a mother's leftover baby blankets for her kids, even if it did have a 'Made in China' label on the edge.
They didn't really want to take all the gear out to cook so Bronx passed out pudding cups and bottled soda while Ashlee dealt them all cards for a lazy game of poker to win back her losses from Bronx. She owed him approximately $647, 542 and all the butterscotch pudding cups, and he was threatening to collect when they hit New York.
Brendon couldn't really focus on the game, so he watched Bogart and Indie wrestling a few yards away from the blanket while Hemmy snored in his lap.
They wouldn't be playing if there were any hint of danger nearby, he knew, but he couldn’t relax. He worried about New York. Even if they did find others like them - alive and relatively sane -- if he couldn't feel good here in the calm, he doubted he could do it anywhere. He ached without Spencer, and it wasn't from the pain in his arm.
"Bren, come on, get your head in the game," Ashlee said, thumping his knee. "Your bet."
He glanced at his cards and frowned. He was getting better at bluffing. He tossed a few sporks into the middle and put his cards down again.
"What's eating you?" Tom asked softly.
"Nothing. It's just really beautiful here," Brendon said.
"Yeah. Kind of makes you forget," Tom replied.
"Yeah," Brendon said. He moved closer to lean his head on Tom's shoulder.
"No peeking, you cheater," Tom said, turning his cards away. Once he had them facedown in front of him, he slipped an arm around Brendon's waist.
"I don't have to cheat, I'm a master poker player," Brendon said.
"Royal flush. Take that suckers," Bronx announced.
"Oh my God, you're such a cheater!" Ashlee protested, pouncing on Bronx and tickling him into a giggling fit.
"You taught him how to cheat didn't you?" Brendon whispered, warm from the sun and from Tom's support.
Tom's lips tilted up for a second.
"Of course not, cheating is wrong."
"Of course," Brendon laughed.
"Give me some of your butterscotch pudding, something happened to mine," Tom said.
"Yeah, you ate it," Brendon said. He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest when Tom took the half-full cup out of his hand.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he could feel good again. Maybe they could be okay.
-----------------
As soon as they crossed the city limits into New York City, they started seeing neatly printed posters leading them to a 'Satisfaction Guaranteed Refuge'. Bronx had chattered excitedly while Tom kept his hand on Brendon's thigh so tightly his knuckles were white the further they went.
The men standing in the parking lot of the Hilton that Ashlee used to drive by on her way to Pete's apartment across town were the first people they'd seen without gray eyes since they'd found Tom.
Ashlee glanced around the bustling lobby, looking for the sign-in desk. Brendon squeezed her hand and she saw Tom's hand slip into Brendon's pocket. Bronx pulled the three of them toward the desk where a soldier was waiting.
They'd fucking made it.
"Welcome to New York. State and city of origin and names, and we'll see if anyone here matches up," the man said.
"Does that happen?" Brendon asked.
"A few times. Don't get your hopes up, I'm afraid. We're pretty disorganized. I'm not even a real soldier,” he confessed, handing over a long clipboard. “The uniform just helps people know where to sign in. Most of the military went down in the first wave, like everywhere else. We're just lucky we've got New York pretty clear of the Grays.. I'm Dennis, by the way."
"Thanks, Dennis, I'll sign us in," Tom said. "Are there, like, rooms available or do we need to set up the tent somewhere? We have dogs; they come with us wherever you put us."
"You'll all have to stay in the same room, but we've got power and even hot water, sometimes. Dogs are fine if they're housetrained. The restaurant is our clinic now, and we've got a few bona fide doctors in there even. We'll put you on the list for a checkup once you're logged and settled," Dennis said as Tom wrote their names in careful script.
"Good. Ashlee's pregnant," Tom said.
Brendon squeezed her hand.
"Congratulations. We'll move you to the top of the list," Dennis said, smiling at her kindly.
Bronx snatched his hand away and she glanced over to see why he was upset, but he was sprinting across the lobby.
"Bronx, come..." she started to say, then froze...
"Jesus," Brendon gasped when he recognized the man that had wrapped his arms around Bronx and was holding him tightly.
"Pete, fucking shit," Tom whispered.
Ashlee felt like she was going to pass out. Pete. He wasn't dead. Pete.
Dennis handed Tom a set of keys and a photocopied list of news briefs and basic rules of conduct but Ashlee couldn't look away from Pete and his long, shaggy hair and his laughing sobs as he clung to Bronx while Hemmy ran circles around them both.
"Go," Brendon whispered.
"Come with me," she replied. Tom took her free hand and the two men that had kept her and Bronx alive for the past few hellish months helped her remember how to walk.
Pete. Alive. She hadn't even let herself dream about this. He was alive...
Bronx was crying and she realized that she didn't remember him crying like that since...California. He was so strong.
"Pete Wentz, in the fucking flesh," Tom said, catching his attention.
Pete raised his eyes and she saw the moment he recognized her because everything stopped.
"Ashlee, oh my God..." Pete whispered.
"Hey," she managed before he crushed her in a hug. He kissed her face all over before finding her mouth.
She'd missed him so much and now...fuck...Pete.
-------------
Brendon thought he would have fallen down if Tom wasn't holding on to his hand.
"Conrad? Brendon? Fuck yeah," a voice said, tearing his eyes away from Ashlee and Pete's reunion.
Gabe Saporta was still freakishly tall and managed to embrace them both in one go.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Gabe whispered.
"What a long, strange trip it's been," Brendon said.
"I hear that. Brendon, please don't tell me that you brought your guitar," Gabe said, nodding at the guitar case.
"It's not...I'll show you guys later," Brendon said. It would be time to open the box soon.
"Anybody else from your side of the world?" Tom asked.
"Travie's here. Sleeping off a drunk upstairs. He helps with the burials and he gets a little wrung out. Like anybody isn't," Gabe said.
Pete pounced on Brendon from behind, pinning his arms at his side and spinning him around.
"Brendon, you fuck...thank you," Pete said breathlessly.
"You should be thanking Bronx, he's the brains behind all this. Me and Tommy are just the muscle. And Ashlee, well, she's from Texas," Brendon said shakily.
"Let's get upstairs so you guys can take a break," Gabe said.
"Get Travis, bring him to my room. You guys, none of you, are leaving my fucking sight today," Pete said. “Maybe ever again.”
Tom grabbed Brendon’s hand again and moved to his side, and they followed Gabe to the elevator. He felt Ashlee's hand slip into his other one and felt steady again.
But it didn't feel over. The journey had been too long and too many people were still dying for it to be over.
"I gave our apartment to some of the kids,” Pete confessed. “There were little ones -- babies and lost children -- and they were too skittish to stay here with all the people, so some of the nurses stay there with them. And I gave a lot of our clothes to the pool they have downstairs," Pete told Ashlee.
"I'm still getting used to the power being on," Ashlee said. “So it’s not like that upsets me.”
"There hasn't been anyone from California in a few weeks, so I think everybody is glad to see you," Gabe said.
"We didn't run into anybody...healthy," Tom said.
"What happened to your arm?" Gabe asked, turning to Brendon and nodding at the sling hanging loose around his neck.
"Brendon's gangsta now," Bronx said.
"The pups missed a crazy back in California. It's kind of fucked up," Brendon said.
"The bullet went into the bone and then the fucker wouldn't stop using it," Ashlee said.
"We're in here, 421," Pete said, unlocking the door. Bogart and Indie rushed in before the door was even fully open.
"They have to clear it first," Bronx said.
"They've saved our ass so many times that sometimes I think they're in charge," Tom said.
"They can't work the can opener yet, that's the only reason," Brendon said.
Bogart barked and they moved into the room.
"Don't listen to him, our dogs are awesome," Bronx said.
Brendon sat down on the clean bed and Tom carefully pulled the guitar strap over Brendon’s head and slid Brendon’s arm into the sling. He would have rolled his eyes but he appreciated Tom's attentiveness too much. Tom seemed to know when his arm was acting up.
"Is he..." Pete started to ask, then trailed off.
"He's fine. We all space sometimes," Ashlee said.
"Sorry," Brendon said. "I can't believe that...we made it here. That you're alive."
"Trust me, I didn't believe it either. I was in the club and...it was...just...everybody fell," Pete said.
"You gotta be shitting me," Travis said, skidding into the room with Gabe, his pick stuck in his wild hair.
"Hey, Travie," Tom said.
When they were all sitting down and Tom's hand was loosely tethered to his wrist, he picked up the guitar case and stretched it across their laps.
"Is it music time?" Pete asked.
"No. But I'm only opening it once. I'm not telling it more than once," Brendon said.
They were all silent even though he hadn't told anyone what was inside and Tom had to help him work the latches.
The sheet of paper with the names was a little smeared but he didn't need it. He remembered it all.
-------------
Ashlee felt too far away from Brendon, sitting across the room instead of on the bed, but Tom had him and she trusted Tom more than anyone else to take care of him. She had Pete and Brendon would have Tom when he was ready.
He'd never opened the case in front of her. He'd never even told her what was inside.
"I had an address book -- on paper because I always lost my phone. And when I realized what was going on; when Regan died and Shane tried to choke me," Brendon started in a low monotone, "I knew shit was bad. So I took my board and Bogie and Indie...because Dylan wouldn't leave them...I took them to the streets. Got a gun after the people got...more trigger-happy. And I went to the closest houses first."
Ashlee saw him slide the two wedding rings on his finger but she couldn't break the silence. He was only going to say it once, he’d said, and she believed him. She still sort of couldn’t believe he was finally going to tell her - tell all of them - what had happened.
He pulled out a gold watch with a scuffed face.
"Patrick. He was in the pool. Trohman was in the kitchen," he continued, pulling out a chain bracelet. He held them out and Pete's hand was shaking when he took them.
"Katy and Vicky T were together. And I found your Eric at an In and Out," Brendon said, pulling more jewelry from the box and handing it to Travis and Gabe.
"Damn, Bren..." Gabe whispered.
"Alex, Nate and Ryland were together. Eric, Ryan and Greenwald were in the studio," Brendon said, still in that blank voice. "Jon was there, too."
Tom turned his face into Brendon's shoulder and clenched Jon's guitar strap tightly in his hand.
Brendon met her gaze. "Jessica was at the end of your street. She was still in the car."
Ashlee shuddered when he dropped the cross necklace into her hand. Oh, God, her sister had been so close...
"I didn't find anyone else. And Ashlee and Bronx were the only ones I found alive. Sane," he said.
"What about Spencer?" Pete asked.
She saw Brendon's fingers skirt over a pair of drumsticks that were spattered with the brown of dried blood. Brendon shook his head an instant before he walked abruptly into the bathroom and closed the door.
"He even took Dylan's collar," Bronx whispered.
Tom reached down and closed the guitar case.
“Spencer’s gone,” he said.
"And Brendon doesn't have to talk about it again," Ashlee said firmly.
Bogart started scratching on the bathroom door and the toilet flushed a moment before Brendon walked out again.
"Are we good?" Brendon asked shakily.
"Yeah, Bden. All good," Travis whispered.
Tom embraced Brendon as soon as he sat down again but Brendon was stiff.
"Is there coffee in this place?" Brendon asked.
"No coffee. You had last shift driving. It's your turn to sleep," Ashlee said.
"But, dude, they have a total working Starbucks downstairs," Gabe said.
"Sleep first, we'll bring you a grande," Ashlee said.
"Can we crash here?" Tom asked.
Pete didn't hesitate at the 'we'. "Yeah, we'll step out..."
"We can sleep anywhere," Brendon answered. "Stay."
-------------
He woke up cold and realized that it was because there was air conditioning, and there were real lights on overhead. Tom's familiar nicotine breath was warm on his cheek and he recognized Bronx's soft snore from between them.
"She needs prenatal vitamins, and her iron was low with Bronx. Have you been spotting, baby?" Pete's voice was hushed and worried.
"No, Bren got me the same kind of vitamins I took with Bronx and they haven't let me lift anything in weeks," Ashlee said.
He hadn't thought about how Pete would react to his wife being pregnant with someone else's child. Brendon’s child.
"We've got an ultrasound in the clinic, we'll check it out. You're healthier than most of the women we get here," the old man in the white coat said.
Pete caught his eye, but Brendon didn't move. Then Pete smiled.
"Get up, loser, and let Dr. Jenkins look at your arm,” he said.
Brendon sat up, careful not to disturb Tom or Bronx, and moved stiffly to the bench beside Pete.
Pete looped an arm around his neck and leaned in close to his ear.
"You gave me my family back. Our family," he said, moving Brendon's hand across his lap to where Ashlee sat on his other side, pressing it over Ashlee's rounded stomach. "We're going to get our kids back to a life that isn't full of death. And you're probably the only person in the world that I'd want banging my wife when I couldn't."
He grinned again as Brendon groaned softly.
"Shut up," Ashlee giggled, thumping his ear.
"Seriously. We're alive, and that's all that matters, ever, okay?" Pete said.
"Let's see that arm, son," Dr. Jenkins said.
Brendon unzipped his hoodie and pushed up the sleeve of his t-shirt to show the angry scar.
The doctor was gentle, probing the sore spot and then down the length of his arm to his wrist.
"How's your movement?"
"Hurts like a bitch when I pick anything up, no matter how small. And if I use it too long -- like if I’m driving a distance -- it goes numb, thank God. My fingers don't always cooperate, either," Brendon admitted.
"He can't play guitar. Or piano," Ashlee whispered.
"I can shoot a gun," Brendon said. "I just can't aim it."
"We can probably fix it, get you some PT," the doctor said. "We'll do some x-rays at the clinic. We take patients over there a couple of times a week. We'll let you know when to meet us."
"They'll be there, Doc," Pete said.
"Get some rest, dinner's in an hour," the doctor said.
"My shift to sleep," Ashlee said, kissing Pete and squeezing Brendon's hand before taking his place on the bed.
"I don't know how you guys did it," Pete said quietly. "I've been here, safe, helping these guys get people together, but I’ve been safe and you've been...fighting and starving and..."
"We made it, Pete. Ashlee and Bronx, and Tom, they're fucking amazing."
"So are you, Bren. You came for them -- Hell, you looked for everyone. You fucking...you saved them."
"We saved each other," Brendon said. "If I hadn't found them... I needed them so much, Pete. I’m sorry . . ."
"But you did find them. And you found Tommy. And you found us again. The baby...it's a gift from whoever's left up there. You love her, you love my son and nothing that comes out of that is ever going to be a bad thing. We're all good," Pete said .
"And the baby..." Brendon whispered.
"You've been like a stepdad to Bronx for months, man. We're not taking your kid away from you. I don't think Ashlee's going to let you or Tom out of her sight any time soon anyway. Gabe and I were thinking about Spain, though" Pete said.
"What?" Brendon asked.
"Spain. They're one of the few countries that didn't take massive casualties. I have some money in Swiss accounts that can help with the rescue and...and we can give the kids, at least, a life," Pete said quietly.
"Why aren't you already there?" Brendon asked.
Pete turned the watch and bracelet that were now on his thin wrist, looking at Ashlee and Bronx on the bed.
"Yeah. I get it," Brendon said.
Pete nodded.
"It's a miracle. I still can’t believe you’re all here. I never really gave up hope, you know, but even I thought I was delusional."
Gabe peeked in the door and smiled brightly when he saw Brendon.
Now that he'd had some rest, Brendon could see the weariness behind Gabe's eyes. But he had a cup of coffee in his hand, which he swiftly transferred over to Brendon. He almost believed there was still a God when he took his first sip.
-------------
Ashlee felt steadier, finally, after a real shower with hot water, and clean clothes. Seeing Bronx and Pete laughing beside her at the table in the lounge was a scene she had never thought she'd see again.
She spotted Brendon out of the corner of her eye, sitting close beside Tom as Gabe gestured wildly across from them in conversation, making them both smile.
"Go on," Pete said to Bronx as he turned towards that side of the room. Bronx glanced at her for final permission, and she nodded. He smiled at her and hurried over to sit with Brendon and Tom, and she saw Pete’s eyes follow him, then linger on Tom, pressed up against Brendon.
"How long has that been going on?" he asked
"Probably since we got Tommy. The three of us -- we needed something to make us forget sometimes," she said. "But for Tom, I think, it’s more than that with Brendon. I don't think Brendon gets it yet, but Tom's in it for the long haul," she said.
Tom had his hand on the back of Brendon's neck, underneath his shaggy hair, keeping him close.
"Tom didn't have a Spencer, either," Pete said quietly. “I think Brendon probably just needs some time.”
"Yeah," Ashlee said. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again, that you would be here and alive. But I didn’t know, and I couldn’t let you go, not really. And here you are, . .” She paused for a moment to get her voice under control as she choked up before she nodded towards Brendon. “He knows Spencer's gone. I think... I think he had to kill him."
Pete pulled her close..
"We'll take care of him. Tommy, too. You're safe now, all of you. We'll have time to take care of the rest."
"Have...have you been here the whole time?" Ashlee asked.
"A while. I helped set things up where I could. People recognized me, you know? I tried to keep myself distracted by helping the people that showed up, hoping someone I knew would turn up.” He shook his head, and she felt his arms tighten around her. “Still had it better than some people. Jesus, Gabe and Travis came in looking like fucking POWs. Guns and ammo strapped on like they were in Mad Max or something. They were already in New York when it hit. Travie had been looking for his dog and Gabe, I'm not sure what he was doing when they hooked up. He's a little messed up," Pete said softly.
Ashlee glanced at him.
"Are you guys..."
Pete shrugged.
"Yeah. He's one of my best friends. You weren’t the only ones who...needed something."
"I get it. Is he okay?" Ashlee asked. “I mean, now that we’re here, did you want to . . you still could . . .”
Pete shook his head.
"He gets it. It hadn't happened in a while, even before you all got here. He's been getting better, and it isn’t the only thing that gets through to him anymore. And you're here now," Pete whispered, pulling her in for a kiss. "If I could let Bronx out of my sight for one minute, I'd take you upstairs and make love to you all night."
"Brendon and Tom can..." Ashlee started.
"I don't want them to, not yet. It's been too long.” He glanced around the lounge again, at the different small groups of families and friends gathered, and sighed. “All that time we spent separated, working to make money for our careers, and what does it matter now? The only thing that matters is my family. Nothing's more important than this, right now," Pete said. "We'll make time for the -- bedroom stuff -- later."
-------------
Brendon woke with a gasp, and the only thing keeping him from letting out a scream was the fact that he recognized the warm arms around him, and heard Tom's familiar whisper in his ear.
He hated the dreams.
They weren't even nightmares anymore, just memories of his life before everyone went supernova. Surfing, bowling with Shane and Regan. Making love to Spencer until they were both too sore to walk without limping.
"Yeah?" Tom murmured when he realized he was awake.
"Yeah. Okay," Brendon replied, winding his arm around Tom and twisting his fingers in Tom’s thin t-shirt. After a moment he turned his face into Tom’s chest.
Tom stroked his hair, his fingers rough against his scalp. "We're safe now, Bren."
"Safe. Yeah. Okay," Brendon whispered, but he couldn’t stop his shudder.
"What?" Tom whispered.
"Do you...do you think it'll ever be...okay again? Or do you think we'll all finally go crazy, too and start killing each other? Do you think...we'll ever be okay?"
Tom pulled him closer.
"Hey, we made it. Fuck knows why, but we made it through. And when the...sick ones finally kill each other off, or die off, we'll have our world back. And we'll find what happiness we can. What is it -- cup half empty, half full or whatever?"
Brendon snorted at Tom's fumbling attempt at a metaphor and Tom kissed his forehead
"I...I think we should talk. Soon," Tom said.
Brendon pulled away and looked up at him, feeling his stomach twist.
"What is it?" he asked. He felt Tom’s arms tighten as he pulled Brendon back down.
"It's nothing bad! I just...I want to tell you something before I lose my chance. So I can at least say it out loud once before you...move on or whatever," Tom mumbled.
"Tommy..." Brendon started. What was this?
Tom sighed.
"I love you. I...I don't want to be alone anymore and I don't want ... I don’t want to share you. I want us to have this. This is ours. And I know you're not ready, and I don't blame you for that, but...there it is. I want you, okay? More than just a fuckbuddy...more than just the last guy on the planet," Tom said. His eyes were bright in the dark room. "I just want you. I’ll take whatever you’ll give me, but I wanted you to know that."
Brendon didn't know what to say but Tom's eyes were so serious and fucking honest that Brendon almost couldn't look at him. He turned away, but Tom didn't let him leave the bed, keeping his arm anchored around Brendon’s waist.
"Please. Don't leave...I...it doesn't matter if you feel the same way, it's...I just had to tell you, okay?" Tom said.
"I know . . . I-- Shit, Tommy, don't make me say it...just...I..." Brendon wasn't even sure what he was trying to say, but Tom deserved an explanation, even if it was all Brendon could give him. He clutched at Tom’s arm, still wound around his waist. "I can't say it. I can’t watch you die, and everyone I ever -- they died, they all died, and I can't...don't make me say it. I don't want to say it when...I can't say it, but . . .."
He had a flash of memory, a splash of red against a baffled wall, and he remembered Spencer's grey-glazed eyes, and the way the blood dripping down onto the drum kit sounded like miniature beats. He couldn’t go through that again, he thought as he started to hyperventilate.
"Okay, Bren, okay,” Tom crooned. “Look at me, you don't have to, hey..."
His vision cleared and he recognized Tom's eyes and his mouth and his steady hands.
Tom was here. Tommy was always there.
He threw himself at Tom, pulling him into a two-armed hug, , no longer caring about the pain.
"I wish I could be who you really want," Brendon whispered.
"You don't have to wish for what you already are,” Tom said softly. Tom was shaking in his arms.
“And...you don't have to say it, ever,” Tom said urgently. "Just...don't leave me..."
"Oh, Tommy, I wouldn't, I..." Brendon trailed off, holding him tightly.
"I just wanted you to know, okay? I just...I think I'm more scared now that we’re here than I was when it was just us on the road. Then, I knew you needed me. Now -- I...I don't want to lose you."
"You won't. Ever. I promise," Brendon whispered.
"I'm here for you. As much as you’ll let me be," Tom murmured.
"I know. I just...can't."
"I know. I'll wait. This is enough for me. It'll always be enough," Tom said.
Brendon held on and tried not to fall.
"I won't leave you," Brendon reiterated. “Can that - can that be enough for now?”
Tom kissed him gently and Brendon closed his eyes and held on tighter.
-------------
Well if we take all these things
and we bury them fast
And we'll pray that they turn into seeds,
to roots and then grass
It'd be all right, it's all right,
it'd be easier that way.
-------------
Ashlee stretched out on the cot in the clinic and tried not to freak out as the doctors made their way over to her with the rolling ultrasound machine.
"Mom? You look scared," Bronx said. "You want me to go get Brendon?"
Pete glanced over at him from her other side, where he was holding her hand, a flash of hurt in his eyes.
"No, baby, I'm okay. Just nervous," she said, squeezing Pete’s hand in sympathy at the same time.
Bronx squeezed her arm.
"Okay. Don't be nervous."
"I'm sure the baby's fine," Pete said, scooting his chair closer and urging Bronx to share with him. After a minute, Bronx took him up on the offer, and Ashlee saw Pete’s shoulders relax.
"I hope so. I can't take losing anything else," she admitted.
"You won't, Mom," Bronx whispered.
"Little man's become the man of the house, huh?" Pete smiled.
"You should've heard him ream out Brendon when we told him about the baby," Ashlee said. “He might have a career with Planned Parenthood in his future, if there’s ever a Planned Parenthood again.”
"I didn't mean it," Bronx said, frowning. He looked at Pete. "I didn't mean it, Dad. I hurt Brendon."
"Hey, buddy, I'm sure he knows you didn't mean to hurt him. We all say things we don't mean sometimes. You were just defending your mom's honor," Pete said, surprised.
"It still wasn't fair. But Tommy says we all have to blow up sometimes," Bronx said.
Ashlee reached over and ruffled his hair. "You sure you want to be here for this?"
"Yeah, I want to see if there’s a little brother or a little sister in there," Bronx said. Pete put an arm around him and pulled him close.
What the fuck are you doing?
Tom's voice caught their attention from across the room and the whole place went silent for a few moments.
"I'll be right back, don't start without me," Pete said, catching the panic in her eyes as she reacted automatically to Tom’s distress.
Dude, chill. Seriously.
Brendon didn't sound upset in the least, and she felt her heart slow down in response.
The doctor appeared before Pete even stood up, though, and she had to force herself to let Brendon deal with Tom or vice versa.
They were grown men, and they had each other. She had to start to recognize that. The baby had to come first.
She answered the doctor's questions as calmly as she could, naming the vitamins she'd been taking and telling him about her lack of morning sickness -- all the things she'd told the other doctor.
"Your blood test says that you're almost five months along," the doctor said, putting down her clipboard and smiling kindly at Ashlee..
"I have no idea what day it even is," she admitted.
"The world ended seven months and three days ago ," Bronx said.
She wondered if she should be showing more. She wondered if it had happened the first time she had asked Brendon to fuck her. She wondered how many cigarettes she'd smoked with the tiny baby already inside her.
"Hey," Pete said, squeezing her hand.
"Yeah, okay. Is it okay?"
"Let's see," the doctor smiled, squeezing some gel into her hand.
"Go get Brendon now, he should see the first picture of his baby," Pete said to Bronx. When he hurried off, Pete moved to sit on the bed with her.
"Good idea," she said.
The doctor pushed her shirt up so she could get to Ashlee’s stomach, then pushed the cool probe across her abdomen, smearing the gel.
"Somewhere, there is a baby in here," the doctor said, even though the screen remained empty.
Bronx returned, pulling Tom by the hand with Brendon trailing behind in a new, stiff sling with splinted fingers.
"Ah, there we are. Looks like your baby's right on track, steady heartbeat, good size," the doctor smiled, raising a hand to point out the small blob on screen. "He or she is not cooperating, so I can’t tell you the sex with the way it's turned, but we'll keep an eye on it."
"Oh," Brendon whispered when Pete pulled him over to stand beside his side of the bed.
Bronx was grinning widely and turned to them.
"So it's okay?"
"Yeah, B, it's okay," Pete said. He didn't let go of her hand, but he elbowed Brendon. "Can you see?"
"Yeah," Brendon whispered. "I see it."
She closed her eyes, letting her relief show as tears trickled down her cheeks. She opened her eyes when Pete started to kiss her tears away and saw Brendon slip his hand into Tom's, sharing a secret smile with him.
"Congratulations," the doctor said.
"After everything that's happened, it's good to see some life coming into the world instead of just going out," Tom said softly.
"Hell yeah, Conrad, hell yeah," Pete murmured into her hair.
-------------
Brendon was dozing against Tom's shoulder in one of the dining-room booths, his stomach full of waffles and fresh eggs and his mind fuzzy from the new painkillers. Tommy had insisted that he take the full dose. Tom had been protective of them all, but after their conversation last night, he wasn't trying to hide his worry about Brendon anymore. When the doctor had injected him with an anti-inflammatory earlier, Tommy'd flipped out a little.
But the image of Brendon's tiny baby on the ultrasound had restored some calm to them all.
Tom and Travie's steady conversation was soothing him into sleep, and Bogart was snoring softly in his lap.
"Bren, hey, there's a girl over there staring holes into you," Tom said softly, tapping his good arm.
He blinked and tried to focus.
"Where?"
"Blonde by the desk," Tom said, nodding his chin towards her.
It took him a second to recognize her.
"Let me out," Brendon said with what little breath he could get out. Travis took Bogie out of his lap before Brendon knocked him to the floor.
Tom sensed the urgency and slid out, watching the girl warily as she approached.
"Brendon," Crystal said, hugging him before he could get fully to his feet and pushing him back a step into Tom.
"Shit, Crystal, are you okay? What..."
Oh, God. Spencer's baby sister.
"Yeah, but..." her eyes skimmed across the table. "He's not here, is he?"
He shook his head.
"I'm so sorry....Are you -- is Jackie okay? Ginger and Jeff?" Brendon asked.
She shook her head and he saw her fighting back tears, still holding onto him tightly.
"No. Mom...she fell at the beginning. Dad and Jackie...they...you know. If it hadn't been for Cory...we wouldn't have made it out..."
Brendon remembered Cory's name but couldn't place him.
"Thank God...shit, Crys..."
"Who would've guessed that my twin sister's hateful fiancé would end up saving my ass," she snorted, finally releasing him. "Oh, shit, you're hurt, what..."
Brendon felt Tom's hand steadying him from behind as Brendon shrugged off her question.
"It's bad everywhere. It's okay. Guys, this is Crystal. Spencer's sister," he said to the rest of the table.
"Shit, girl, sit down," Travie said, sliding over in the booth.
Brendon felt back and found Tom's hand. He didn't think he could handle this by himself.
"Oh God, Bogart," Crystal said, scooping up the small dog and hugging him despite his struggle at being jostled again out of his nap.
"How'd you get out? Were you in Vegas?" Travis asked.
"Yeah. We were all in town for my sister's wedding shower. And then when everything went down...Cory got me to the airport. There were a few people hiding out in some of the hangars. I think they were all waiting for a pilot. And Cory's ex-military - he used to fly F-16s. So I got to play copilot. We brought about fifteen people with us, we didn't want to wait too long," she said, looking at Brendon like he might disappear. “We’ve been here almost since the beginning. I don’t know how I missed you.”
Brendon sat down beside her, pulling Tom in with him despite his continued silence. Crystal slid in next to Brendon, crowding them all into the booth, and reached for his hand.
"We passed your parents' place on the way to the airport,” she said. “I'm sorry."
He nodded, and closed his eyes for a moment.
"Yeah, I -- we passed through Vegas. I checked and saw...all my family. There was no one at your parents’, though. I had hoped that meant . . .” he trailed off, and opened his eyes, catching her gaze. “Did you...you put flowers down?"
"Everywhere we passed, yeah. Had to do something, you know?" she said, shivering.
"Yeah," he said. All he'd done was close their eyes. He hadn’t even been able to say a prayer.
Tom squeezed his hand.
"Did you just get here?" she asked.
"Yeah. Me, Ashlee and Bronx were in California. We picked up Tommy somewhere in Utah. I checked your place in Vegas..." he repeated.
"We were at the Civic Center already. Shit, Brendon...it's just so good to see you - I kept seeing Pete Wentz but I avoided him. I was afraid to ask him. I just...kept praying..." Crystal said.
"I'm so sorry...I..." Brendon started.
"Hey," Tom whispered.
"You don't have to apologize. I know...I know how much you loved my brother. You'd have saved him if you could. That's the thing about this...virus or whatever the fuck it is, it didn't even give us the chance," Crystal said. "We just have to...make the best of what we have left."
Brendon didn't know how she'd feel about him clutching Tom's hand underneath the table, but he needed him too much to let go.
She waved over a well-built blond guy and her face relaxed.
"Cory, this is Brendon, he's...he was...my brother's boyfriend," she said. He raised an eyebrow and she just shook her head once, quickly.
Brendon shook his hand and smiled at him even though the past tense took his breath. God.
"Heard a lot of good things about you," Cory said, but he studied Brendon warily.
"You, too. Crys says you saved her life," Brendon managed.
Cory's eyes flickered over to her.
"Yeah, well, she kind of saved mine, too."
Crystal turned to him.
"Do you think Jackie would hate me?" she whispered.
He glanced between the two again. Oh.
"I think she'd be glad that you're taking care of each other," he said.
She smiled, blushing and letting her tears fall, and pulled him into another hug.
"Spencer would be happy for you, too," she murmured in his ear.
"Brendon, Daddy wants to talk to you upstairs," Bronx said, running up to the table.
"Everything all right?" he asked.
"Yeah, it’s about the baby. They've got more medical stuff to ask you about," Bronx said.
"Tell him we'll be right up," Brendon said, pausing to pet Hemmy before he hurried off behind Bronx again. Both the boy and the dogs had a bounce in their steps that he hadn't seen before.
"Baby?" Crystal asked.
"Ash and Bren were alone a while," Tom answered for him.
"Oh," she said softly. "Good for you guys. Babies are always good. Is Pete mad at you?"
"No, he gets it. It took us months to get across the country. And everyone's okay. We don't have time to be mad when we're too busy being alive," Tom answered.
"Yeah," Crystal nodded.
Brendon didn't really think he could handle much more conversation before he broke down but she turned to Tom, narrowing her eyes and giving him the Smith glare. God, it had been so long since he’d seen that face.
"You fuck him up and I will cut you,” she warned.
Tom smiled at her.
"Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before. I'm trying to stay on top of it."
"Good. Go talk. I'll get your room number from this tall dark gentleman," she said, nodding to Travie. "And we'll be seeing you later."
"Tell her about Spain," Tom said.
"Spain?" Cory asked.
"Spain," Travis stated. "Yes. Could use your input, dude, if you're really a pilot like Ms. Smith says. Buenos Dias and all that."
Brendon kissed her cheek, leaving her with Travis and the pilot and letting Tom guide him to the elevator.
"Hey, hey, you're shaking," Tom whispered, stopping him in the hallway.
"She's...she's alive..." Brendon said.
Tom hesitated but embraced him.
"She doesn't...hate me...she doesn't blame me..." he said, pinching his eyes closed.
Tom pushed his fingers through Brendon’s hair, as Brendon turned his face into Tom’s chest. "You did everything you could. Deep down, you know that."
"I killed him, Tommy...I killed him, and Shane and...I killed him, Tommy."
"He was dead before you had to do that. It wasn't him, Bren. You know it wasn't him. It was...he wouldn't have wanted to exist like that, if you’d left him alive to keep hurting people. He's...he's in a better place. You can't do this to yourself...you can't keep doing this to yourself. You have to remember all the parts, not just the end. That wasn't him and you know it," Tom murmured in his ear.
"Sorry...I'm..."
"Shh. Come on, let's go up and you can splash water on your face and sit down. I'll bring Pete to you," Tom said. "Okay?"
He nodded into Tom’s chest.
"Thank you. Yeah, let's do that. I don't want to flip out in front of everybody. And I think if I start crying, I won't be able to stop."
"Then we'll have to keep you from crying," Tom said. "Come on."
-------------
Ashlee knocked softly on Brendon and Tom's door, waiting for one of them to let her in.
It took a few minutes too long, and she half expected Tom to be naked when he opened the door, but he was fully clothed. He looked exhausted.
"What is it?" she asked immediately.
"He's just having a...moment. Spencer's sister's alive," Tom replied.
Ashlee huffed out a breath.
"Shit. The twins?"
"One of them," Tom said, nodding toward the bed where Brendon was curled on his side.
She paused long enough to give Tom a hug.
"What happened in the clinic today?" she asked, since it was the first time she’d seen them since then.
"Oh. That was nothing. The guy stuck this long-ass needle in his arm. It hurt him, but he handled it like a trooper, like it was nothing. But now I can't get him to stop shaking," Tom said.
"What did she say?" Ashlee asked.
"That it wasn't his fault. You know, the same stuff we tell him," Tom whispered. "But coming from her, I think it was too much."
"Give me a few minutes with him." Ashlee said, waiting for him to step outside before walking over to Brendon. She knelt on the bed and carefully put her hands on his arm. "Bren?"
"I'm okay," Brendon whispered, but even his voice was trembling.
"No, you're not. You're flipping out. Tommy said so," she replied.
"Tommy worries too much," Brendon said.
"No such thing these days," she replied. "Will you look at me?"
Brendon didn't move.
"Tom says he loves me. You're having my baby. Crystal's alive and she doesn't hate me. But...everything...shit, Ash. I think I might love Tommy back, but I shouldn’t. And I don't think I can be a father with so many people's blood on my hands. And I can't take Crys' forgiveness when I...I killed her brother. I can't...do any of this.."
She stopped waiting for him to roll over and curled up behind him, spooning him. She felt the warmth of the sheets and knew Tom had probably been in the same spot.
"Yes you can. You can do anything. You can skateboard around California with your tiny dogs and check on your friends. You can save a woman and her son from dying alone and give them hope. You can find love in a world filled with death and loss. You can give a girl who lost everything a family again."
"I...I don't know how much more I can take, Ash," Brendon said finally. He turned over so they were lying face to face. "I don't know if I can ever...be...enough."
"You saved us, Bren. Me and Bronx and Tom, you took care of us. Through everything. You've always been enough. You don't have to give anyone anything more than you already have. And you have to let us take care of you. We've been running on instinct and fear for so long that we have to remember how to live again without being terrified of dying."
Brendon shuddered and she pressed her forehead against his so he'd look at her.
"We have to appreciate the things we have left," she said.
"That's what Crystal said," Brendon said.
"Smart girl, obviously. Hey, everybody that knows you knows how much you and Spencer loved each other. And anybody that sees you with Tom knows that he loves you, too. You have to...you have to let Spencer go, Bren. You can't give up on your life because he's gone. You're still here. There aren't many people that got a second chance."
Brendon turned his face into her neck when she pulled him into a tight hug. "I guess we are pretty lucky."
"The luckiest," Ashlee said. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah. Thank you. Will you send Tommy back in? I think...we should probably talk."
"You both need to rest. We all do. I'm just going to go upstairs and have sex with my husband while my son wins us some goodies in the poker game he's got going on with Gabe and Travie," Ashlee said.
"That kid can do anything," Brendon smiled.
"Please get some rest. Call me if you need me," Ashlee said.
"I'm not calling you tonight. But you better make Pete give you some of that foreplay that you were deprived of for so long," Brendon said.
"Shut up," she laughed, sitting up.
"You should mention that foreplay stuff to Tom, too. Maybe I can get in on that action," he said, then smiled, the light a little stronger in his eyes.
"I'll put a word in for you," she promised, leaning down to kiss him gently. "Rest, okay?"
"You, too. You're sleeping for two, you know?" he said.
She let herself cup his cheek for an extra moment and he smiled. "We're okay. We'll be okay now."
She actually believed it now.
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I will keep you safe and sound.
Does anybody remember back when you were very young,
did you ever think that you would be this blessed?
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Epilogue
Tom stripped off his t-shirt and dropped it in the laundry pile, wrinkling his nose at the nasty smell from the pile of discarded clothes. He tried to remember whose turn it was to do the laundry this week.
"Tommy, seriously, can you put a leash on that kid? He's chasing the cows again," Gabe yelled from the kitchen.
He rolled his eyes, pulling the curtains back and seeing Spencer running through the yard with a shiny pinwheel Brendon had given to him before he left for work.
This was definitely not the life he thought he'd have.
He pushed the window up and let the breeze cool his skin, hot from the day's sun where he'd been helping Gabe and Travie set up the new satellite dish in town.
"Spencer Wentz! Get your ass in the house!" Tom yelled. The boy let out ringing laugh, his grin just as bright as his dad's and his blue eyes, like his mom's, shining from several yards away.
The kid was growing way too fast for Tom to process and he looked so much like Brendon that he wondered how Pete could deal with it every day.
But Pete treated Spencer just like he treated his biological kids, Bronx and his baby twins, Jessica and Patrick.
The kids had parents in every house on the street, even if the DNA was different.
Gabe and Travis shared the house at the end of the road, a kennel of dogs behind their house. All of the new arrivals got a free dog for protection.
Ashlee and Pete's house was right next door, close enough that they could hear the twins cry and hear Bronx's girlfriend sneaking out.
They hadn't gone to Spain after all.
Enough scientists had survived the apocalypse to research the Rapture -- as most people called it now - and figure out what had happened. It took a while for the news to spread about the mutated bacteria carried by spores from an algae bloom in the Pacific and blown around the world in the jet stream. It had fed off the pre-frontal cortex of the human brain, unlike anything they’d ever seen before, killing everything that made people human - personality, moral centers -- and leaving only sparse cognitive function and the instinct to survive.
It was too late to save the infected, but they’d managed to stop the spread, and to figure out a vaccine for those who still remained.
The science didn't matter to Tom.
What mattered to Tom was that the disease was gone, the mutated bacteria dying off as its hosts did. They'd stayed in Manhattan for a year -- making plans and waiting for the straggling Grays to die off.
Tom didn't think he'd ever grown up, not really, before the Rapture. Drinking, playing music, traveling, that had been his life. But here, he was a responsible adult.
He went downstairs and patted Gabe on the back and held the door open for Spencer to run into the house he shared with Brendon.
"Where's your keeper?" he demanded.
"Bronx said I could play outside," Spencer said, throwing his arms around Tom's legs breathlessly.
This was his life now. Husband, stepfather, town elder in a tiny town perched in what had once been Westchester County.
"You're not supposed to chase the cows, Spence. Did you step in cow poo?" Tom asked.
Gabe snorted.
"What? You said 'poo'," He protested. Spence rolled his eyes.
"He's not supposed to say 'shit'," Spencer said. "You know that, Uncle Gabey."
Tom had never been a 'kid' person before. But watching Spencer grow up meant everything to him now.
"Sorry, kid," Gabe said.
The door opened and Brendon walked in, smiling. Brendon was always smiling these days. It made Tom’s heart clench a little, still, every time he saw it, though.
"Hey," Brendon said, pulling him close and kissing him even though Gabe and Spencer made gagging noises behind them. "Why the shirtlessness? Is the AC not working?"
"Just got home. Satellite dish is online, though," Tom said.
"Hell yeah," Brendon said. "About time we're linked up full time with the rest of the world."
Tom released him and watched him crouch down to embrace his son.
"Missed you, Spence. What did you do all day?"
"I was playing with the cows but Daddy Tom made me stop," Spencer said, hugging him.
Spencer had lots of daddies, but he didn’t seem to mind.
"You shouldn't bother the cows, Spence. We need them for yummy milk. Where's your brother?" Brendon asked, hiding his smile.
"He's playing with Sally in his room again," Spence said.
"That kid, I swear he gets more play than any of us every did," Gabe said. "And I got a lot of play at that age."
"I want to play, too," Spencer said, misunderstanding and making them all laugh.
"Come on, kidlet, you can chase the dogs at my house all you want," Gabe said, standing up and scooping Spencer in his arms to balance him on his hip.
"Can I, Daddy B?" Spencer asked.
"Be home for dinner, both of you," Brendon said, sliding an arm around Tom.
"Yes, sir," Gabe and Spencer said, collapsing into giggles as soon as they were outside.
"How was your day?" Tom asked.
"Long. Had three new students today, though. I'm never going to get the hang of teaching math when I don't know it myself," Brendon said.
Tom snickered. Brendon was great with kids, so it hadn't taken much to get him to help with the school, but music was only one of the classes and he came home almost every day complaining about quadratic equations and periodic tables.
Tom loved it. He loved Brendon.
"Crystal graduated one today, the Harris kid. He's going to take over math classes so I can spend more time with the twins while Ashlee goes back full time at the clinic," Brendon said.
"Yeah?" Tom didn't fight his grin. "More time with the twins and with your sweaty boyfriend?"
"Maybe a little time with my boyfriend, when I'm not hanging out with you," Brendon joked.
Tom punched him in the shoulder. "Loser."
"You're a loser," Brendon said.
"I'm your loser," Tom said
Brendon laughed and pulled him close, kissing his neck sloppily. "Yeah, you're totally my bitch."
"In your dreams," Tom snorted.
"Yep, there, too," Brendon snickered. "Let's go get you cleaned up so I can get you dirty again."
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Poll