Remaining Relevant .:Two:.
Title: Remaining Relevant .:Two:.
Author: neverxnever
Rating: Pg13- R
Pairing: Ghost!Brendon/Ryan, various others mentioned
POV: Third
Summary: Sequel to Heedless in Rain. Brendon’s dead, he’s lost his love, his friends can’t seem to move on. And what happens when the psychopathic murderer who killed him shows up again?
Chapter Summary: Gabe looks absolutely frazzled when he jogs up to Brendon’s tombstone, hands balled into fists and eyes vacant of anything except utter, disbelieving confusion. Brendon’s never seen him like this before. He’s instantly there, pinching the fabric of Gabe’s hoodie in his fingers and looking worried.
Disclaimer: I do not own/know anyone mentioned in this piece of FICTION.
Author Notes: At the end, bbz.
-Prologue- [1]
Chapter Two
Four days pass without incident. Brendon gets several visitors (and how was he lucky enough to have had such great friends? He feels increasingly bad about blowing them off to spend time with Ryan while he was alive) and Gabe seems to have kept his promise. His lips have stayed sealed and Frank has no clue. No one has a clue. Not even Jon, who knows ghosts exist. Even has one living above his place of business.
While these four days seem to drag on forever and are relatively uneventful, Brendon counts them as good days. He could live the rest of eternity doing nothing at all if it meant nothing tragic happening.
But, as the sun peaks over the horizon and colors everything gold, Brendon feels it. The thickness in the air that only means bad news is coming.
And then.
Then Brendon finds out that Gabe is the messenger.
Gabe looks absolutely frazzled when he jogs up to Brendon’s tombstone, hands balled into fists and eyes vacant of anything except utter, disbelieving confusion. Brendon’s never seen him like this before. He’s instantly there, pinching the fabric of Gabe’s hoodie in his fingers and looking worried.
“Brendon,” Gabe gasps, sounding like he just emerged from a pool of cold water. His voice is strained, and now that Brendon looks closer, he can see the purple under Gabe’s eyes. He’s been up all night, obviously. “It’s awful. Look.”
Gabe reaches into his pocket and pulls out the folded, wrinkled page of a newspaper. He stuffs it as quickly as possible into Brendon’s hands and then squeezes his eyes shut like he expects to be slapped.
Brendon gives him a funny look, a cross between amusement and puzzlement, and then unfolds the paper and lets his eyes sweep the page.
Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III was found dead last night…
Brendon doesn’t even bother with the rest. He looks up sharply, jaw clenched. “It was Gerard,” he says, but it sounds more like a growl than anything. How could anyone be so heartless…?
Gabe nods, but urges, “Brendon, look.” He leans over to point out a particular paragraph. Brendon swallows past his sudden, boiling anger, only to have it rise again as he reads on.
The police have taken Jon Walker into custody as the prime suspect. His fingerprints were found on one of the two murder weapons, a pistol, which was carelessly thrown into the dumpster outside his bookstore. Which happens to be right next to crime scene...
“They can’t seriously think Jon did it,” Brendon mumbles, fighting to control his abject horror as he stares at the tiny, black and white picture of Pete, and the even tinier one of Jon. “Jon… he wouldn’t. And if he did he wouldn’t leave the fucking murder weapon lying around.”
“I know that,” Gabe whispers, and then gently plucks the paper from Brendon’s hands. He stares blankly down at the smiling Pete as he adds, a bit louder, “They’re having the funeral tomorrow. There’s no body to bury, but I’m sure they’ll do something to preserve his memory.”
Brendon’s eyebrows come together and he bites his lip. “No body to bury?” he asks slowly, hoping he misheard.
Gabe nods stiffly. “They say he was… unrecognizable. There was a knife involved, apparently.”
It’s like a punch to the stomach to hear that. To hear that Gerard is carrying out his twisted fantasies, exacting his fucked up revenge in the bloodiest way possible.
Brendon’s thoughts fly to Spencer, and to Patrick, who are probably worried and crushed and confused and suddenly alone. And who will Gerard kill next? Why haven’t the cops caught him yet? When will Gerard find his way to Frank, or poor, blind Ryan?
-
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Brendon thinks he’s being sneaky, but Ryan seems totally unsurprised at his suddenly being there, right next to him.
Ryan nods, frowning. He absently pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “I don’t think Jon did it.”
“I don’t either,” Brendon agrees, refraining from saying what he really wants to say. He wants to tell Ryan everything that happened. Everything about Gerard and the ghost and his own death, except that would kind of let on to the fact that he’s a fucking ghost. “He’s too nice.”
Ryan hums his agreement, the sound almost blending in with the buzzing of the bees around them. They’re standing far away from the crowd of mourners, both hoping not to be noticed but for different reasons.
Brendon glances sideways at Ryan, and freezes. “What’s that?” he asks before he can help himself. “Shit, what happened?”
Ryan seems to instinctively know what Brendon’s talking about. He quickly covers the dark bruise on his cheekbone, though Brendon’s clearly already seen it. “I ran into… something,” Ryan lies, and not very well. “You know. That happens when you can’t see anything.” The laugh that follows sounds as hollow as it possibly could.
“Ryan, I…” Brendon starts, but trails off. He quickly has to remind himself that he barely knows this boy, and that there’s no real foundation there yet that would justify him asking to be trusted. “Um, okay.”
“Okay?” Ryan repeats, sounding surprised. He drops his hand back to his side. “You believe me?”
Brendon smiles despite himself. “No,” he admits. “But, you know. It’s your story to tell and all that jazz.”
Ryan breathes a sigh of relief that Brendon isn’t going to question him.
-
Thirty minutes later there are only a few remaining stragglers in the cemetery. Brendon can tell from a distance who they are. Patrick, Frank, Gabe, Spencer and William. Gabe is clearly doing his part to lighten the mood, as no one has broken down into tears yet. Brendon remembers Gabe doing the same at his funeral.
“I should go say hi…” Ryan says unsurely. “Shouldn’t I?” He tilts his head in Brendon’s direction.
Brendon shrugs. “Maybe. It would be polite.”
Ryan gingerly touches the bruise on his cheek and bites his lip. “What if…” he starts, and then stops. He drops his hand. “Who’s that?” he asks instead, and Brendon looks up.
Frank is walking toward them, waving and smiling a little. Not as genuinely as usual, maybe, but it’s a smile all the same.
“Shit,” Brendon curses, and then says quickly, “I’ve got to go. See you later.” He doesn’t give Ryan time to answer before he turns away from Frank and walks a little ways before allowing himself to vanish. He can only hope Frank didn’t get close enough to see his face.
“Who were you just talking to?” Frank asks curiously when he reaches Ryan.
“Brendon. He’s really nice,” Ryan says simply. Frank looks confused.
“Wait, Brendon? Did he just move here or something?” When Ryan shrugs, Frank adds, “I knew a Brendon. He was my best friend.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, he was murdered. Just like Pete, and just like Mikey.”
Ryan frowns sympathetically. “I heard about your friend Mikey. I’m sorry.”
Frank shrugs like it’s nothing and runs a hand through his hair. “So how are you liking it here so far?” he asks to change the subject. It works and Ryan starts talking enthusiastically about how nice everyone is and how pretty the town is, etc. etc. etc. Brendon tunes them out and watches as Patrick hugs Spencer, and the two of them say their last goodbyes to Pete.
-
An- OMG ANOTHER DEATH. I swear I’m not actually evil.
Feedback is lovely ♥
Author: neverxnever
Rating: Pg13- R
Pairing: Ghost!Brendon/Ryan, various others mentioned
POV: Third
Summary: Sequel to Heedless in Rain. Brendon’s dead, he’s lost his love, his friends can’t seem to move on. And what happens when the psychopathic murderer who killed him shows up again?
Chapter Summary: Gabe looks absolutely frazzled when he jogs up to Brendon’s tombstone, hands balled into fists and eyes vacant of anything except utter, disbelieving confusion. Brendon’s never seen him like this before. He’s instantly there, pinching the fabric of Gabe’s hoodie in his fingers and looking worried.
Disclaimer: I do not own/know anyone mentioned in this piece of FICTION.
Author Notes: At the end, bbz.
-Prologue- [1]
Chapter Two
Four days pass without incident. Brendon gets several visitors (and how was he lucky enough to have had such great friends? He feels increasingly bad about blowing them off to spend time with Ryan while he was alive) and Gabe seems to have kept his promise. His lips have stayed sealed and Frank has no clue. No one has a clue. Not even Jon, who knows ghosts exist. Even has one living above his place of business.
While these four days seem to drag on forever and are relatively uneventful, Brendon counts them as good days. He could live the rest of eternity doing nothing at all if it meant nothing tragic happening.
But, as the sun peaks over the horizon and colors everything gold, Brendon feels it. The thickness in the air that only means bad news is coming.
And then.
Then Brendon finds out that Gabe is the messenger.
Gabe looks absolutely frazzled when he jogs up to Brendon’s tombstone, hands balled into fists and eyes vacant of anything except utter, disbelieving confusion. Brendon’s never seen him like this before. He’s instantly there, pinching the fabric of Gabe’s hoodie in his fingers and looking worried.
“Brendon,” Gabe gasps, sounding like he just emerged from a pool of cold water. His voice is strained, and now that Brendon looks closer, he can see the purple under Gabe’s eyes. He’s been up all night, obviously. “It’s awful. Look.”
Gabe reaches into his pocket and pulls out the folded, wrinkled page of a newspaper. He stuffs it as quickly as possible into Brendon’s hands and then squeezes his eyes shut like he expects to be slapped.
Brendon gives him a funny look, a cross between amusement and puzzlement, and then unfolds the paper and lets his eyes sweep the page.
Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III was found dead last night…
Brendon doesn’t even bother with the rest. He looks up sharply, jaw clenched. “It was Gerard,” he says, but it sounds more like a growl than anything. How could anyone be so heartless…?
Gabe nods, but urges, “Brendon, look.” He leans over to point out a particular paragraph. Brendon swallows past his sudden, boiling anger, only to have it rise again as he reads on.
The police have taken Jon Walker into custody as the prime suspect. His fingerprints were found on one of the two murder weapons, a pistol, which was carelessly thrown into the dumpster outside his bookstore. Which happens to be right next to crime scene...
“They can’t seriously think Jon did it,” Brendon mumbles, fighting to control his abject horror as he stares at the tiny, black and white picture of Pete, and the even tinier one of Jon. “Jon… he wouldn’t. And if he did he wouldn’t leave the fucking murder weapon lying around.”
“I know that,” Gabe whispers, and then gently plucks the paper from Brendon’s hands. He stares blankly down at the smiling Pete as he adds, a bit louder, “They’re having the funeral tomorrow. There’s no body to bury, but I’m sure they’ll do something to preserve his memory.”
Brendon’s eyebrows come together and he bites his lip. “No body to bury?” he asks slowly, hoping he misheard.
Gabe nods stiffly. “They say he was… unrecognizable. There was a knife involved, apparently.”
It’s like a punch to the stomach to hear that. To hear that Gerard is carrying out his twisted fantasies, exacting his fucked up revenge in the bloodiest way possible.
Brendon’s thoughts fly to Spencer, and to Patrick, who are probably worried and crushed and confused and suddenly alone. And who will Gerard kill next? Why haven’t the cops caught him yet? When will Gerard find his way to Frank, or poor, blind Ryan?
-
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Brendon thinks he’s being sneaky, but Ryan seems totally unsurprised at his suddenly being there, right next to him.
Ryan nods, frowning. He absently pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “I don’t think Jon did it.”
“I don’t either,” Brendon agrees, refraining from saying what he really wants to say. He wants to tell Ryan everything that happened. Everything about Gerard and the ghost and his own death, except that would kind of let on to the fact that he’s a fucking ghost. “He’s too nice.”
Ryan hums his agreement, the sound almost blending in with the buzzing of the bees around them. They’re standing far away from the crowd of mourners, both hoping not to be noticed but for different reasons.
Brendon glances sideways at Ryan, and freezes. “What’s that?” he asks before he can help himself. “Shit, what happened?”
Ryan seems to instinctively know what Brendon’s talking about. He quickly covers the dark bruise on his cheekbone, though Brendon’s clearly already seen it. “I ran into… something,” Ryan lies, and not very well. “You know. That happens when you can’t see anything.” The laugh that follows sounds as hollow as it possibly could.
“Ryan, I…” Brendon starts, but trails off. He quickly has to remind himself that he barely knows this boy, and that there’s no real foundation there yet that would justify him asking to be trusted. “Um, okay.”
“Okay?” Ryan repeats, sounding surprised. He drops his hand back to his side. “You believe me?”
Brendon smiles despite himself. “No,” he admits. “But, you know. It’s your story to tell and all that jazz.”
Ryan breathes a sigh of relief that Brendon isn’t going to question him.
-
Thirty minutes later there are only a few remaining stragglers in the cemetery. Brendon can tell from a distance who they are. Patrick, Frank, Gabe, Spencer and William. Gabe is clearly doing his part to lighten the mood, as no one has broken down into tears yet. Brendon remembers Gabe doing the same at his funeral.
“I should go say hi…” Ryan says unsurely. “Shouldn’t I?” He tilts his head in Brendon’s direction.
Brendon shrugs. “Maybe. It would be polite.”
Ryan gingerly touches the bruise on his cheek and bites his lip. “What if…” he starts, and then stops. He drops his hand. “Who’s that?” he asks instead, and Brendon looks up.
Frank is walking toward them, waving and smiling a little. Not as genuinely as usual, maybe, but it’s a smile all the same.
“Shit,” Brendon curses, and then says quickly, “I’ve got to go. See you later.” He doesn’t give Ryan time to answer before he turns away from Frank and walks a little ways before allowing himself to vanish. He can only hope Frank didn’t get close enough to see his face.
“Who were you just talking to?” Frank asks curiously when he reaches Ryan.
“Brendon. He’s really nice,” Ryan says simply. Frank looks confused.
“Wait, Brendon? Did he just move here or something?” When Ryan shrugs, Frank adds, “I knew a Brendon. He was my best friend.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, he was murdered. Just like Pete, and just like Mikey.”
Ryan frowns sympathetically. “I heard about your friend Mikey. I’m sorry.”
Frank shrugs like it’s nothing and runs a hand through his hair. “So how are you liking it here so far?” he asks to change the subject. It works and Ryan starts talking enthusiastically about how nice everyone is and how pretty the town is, etc. etc. etc. Brendon tunes them out and watches as Patrick hugs Spencer, and the two of them say their last goodbyes to Pete.
-
An- OMG ANOTHER DEATH. I swear I’m not actually evil.
Feedback is lovely ♥