Echoes
Title: Echoes
Author: creepylicious/alles_luege
Pairing: Chad/Patrick, Gerard/Ghost
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Roadtrip fic with ghosts.
Ghost was still looking at the man in the window. “I'm sorry,” he said eventually.
“What for?” the man asked, inhaling sharply.
“That you're stuck here with someone who doesn't love you anymore like you want him to,” Ghost said and then bit his lip, because people didn't always want to hear these things. Even dead people didn't want to hear these things. Especially dead people. Maybe. He wasn't sure.
The man exhaled another lungful of smoke. He sighed. “Yeah, I'm sorry too.” He sounded resigned.
Warning(s): ghosts
Author’s Notes: American Horror Story/Lost Souls/Bandom crossover.
Word Count: 15.252
Beta: slashaddx
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real
ONE
Wake up to the sound of music
~1~
Ghost woke to the soft caress of winter-sunshine on his skin. It felt like a hesitant lover's touch. The pillow smelled of summer-flowers, but it was only in his head. He knew it didn't make it less real. His body felt heavy like it does after sleeping too long. He turned to the window with his eyes still closed and chased the dream he could taste at the tip of his tongue.
Something made a loud noise downstairs and he opened his eyes startled.
“Shit, oh fuck!” Steve's voice was sharp in the gentle winter sun.
He sat up. “You okay?” he yelled, just loud enough to be heard.
“I'm getting sick of the house,” Steve replied and it didn't mean he was sick of Ghost's house, even if he still thought of it as his grandmother's, but simply that he needed to be on the road again. Maybe they both needed it. “Ghost?”
“I'm up,” Ghost said, still looking at the sky just out of reach, behind the glass.
“Can we go for coffee?”
“Is there money in the jar?” Ghost asked back, his toes curling and uncurling on the cold hardwood floor.
“Enough for a cup or two,” Steve answered.
“Yeah, let's go out for coffee,” he replied, but it was so quiet that Steve couldn't possibly have heard it.
~+~
“Coffee, oh thank fucking god,” Gerard said, grabbing the mug from the counter.
“Fucker,” Frank scowled at him. Frank would forgive Gerard. He always did.
“I had the weirdest dream,” Gerard said.
“Coming from you, it means something,” Frank answered, lighting a cigarette. He opened the window of the small kitchen too, so Ray wouldn't bitch about his breakfast tasting like ashes.
“I was walking down an old road and there were all these trees and like, plants and shit-”
“And we know how much you love trees and shit,” Frank threw in. Gerard ignored him. Frank was still a bit bitchy about the coffee thing, even if he was pouring a cup for himself right now.
Gerard waved his hand in a universal gesture that said 'shut up' with a please at the end, maybe. Frank rolled his eyes and took a drag of his cigarette.
“You wanna hear it or not?” he asked.
“Go on.”
“And there was this person-”
“Person?” Frank wanted to know, he was grinning.
“Is this about one of your weird porn magazines?” Mikey asked, stumbling into the kitchen. Gerard gave him a look and then handed his mug over without a word. “Thanks,” Mikey said sitting down at the table.
“No, and they aren't weird.”
“Whatever.”
Gerard bit on his nail and looked out of the window. “Person, because I have no idea if it was a boy or not. I mean, I'm not sure.”
“What do your guts tell you?” Mikey asked in his calm Mikey voice.
“Really?” Frank asked. He was grinning and would be laughing out loud in a few seconds, but Gerard could ignore it now that Mikey was up and had coffee in his system. They could talk it out so it would make sense in Gerard's head.
“A boy,” Gerard answered. Mikey nodded. Frank leaned against the kitchen counter: one hip against the sharp edge of it. It would most likely bruise and look badass. Frank wore bruises like jewelry. “I knew him in my dream. I knew his name and we were walking until we weren't anymore. There was this like a fair or something? Or a carnival, but the old ones, you know? He sat down and all the people were really douchey and giving him looks trying to decide if he was a girl or not and I was really pissed off,” he waved his hand, realizing he wasn't holding a cigarette he went back to nibbling on his thumb.
“Gerard,” Mikey said.
“I don't even know,” Gerard answered.
Mikey nodded like he got it and more times than not Mikey really did. Mikey got up and poured the rest of the coffee into two mugs, he handed one to Gerard and Gee nodded his thanks. Frank finished his morning cigarette and threw the butt out of the window. Gerard briefly thought about giving him the speech for that one, but he was doing it too more often than not. And if he tried to save every little blade of grass on top of everything else, he would go insane. He just sighed.
“I'll think of it next time,” Frank said and he sounded sincere.
It’ll have to do, Gerard thought, nodding.
~2~
Ghost inhaled the aroma of the coffee and it brought back a wave of memories. Warm, fuzzy memories. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply once more. He could feel Steve watching him, but then Steve was always watching him. He sat the mug on the table carefully and looked over at Steve.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay, what?” Steve wanted to know.
“Okay, let’s hit the road.”
Steve sighed in relief. He was glad, Ghost knew, that they could leave Missing Mile again. It was home, but sometimes the familiarity of it all was too much for Steve to bear.
Sometimes it was too much for Ghost too, but Ghost could never escape himself or the things that entered his life without being invited. Steve’s eyes lingered a few seconds too long on Ghost’s face before he looked away again. He was staring out of the window. Steve changed, but then that’s life for you. Nothing ever stays the same.
“Tomorrow?” Steve asked, still not looking away from the pavement outside. There were men playing chess outside on the sidewalk in the morning winter chill, but Ghost was pretty sure Steve wasn’t paying attention to that.
“Yes,” he answered softly. For some reason that startled Steve and he looked back with a sharp movement of his body. It nearly made Ghost back away, but he didn’t. He couldn’t, didn’t know how.
Steve took a deep breath. “Okay.”
~+~
There was this nagging feeling at the back of Gerard’s head, like he needed to be somewhere where he was not, but then he felt that way way too often. It was how he dealt with his issues. (Good thing the whole being a rock-star thing turned out okay for them.) The bus rocked into a halt and he looked out of the window. Grass and pavement and in the distance a few trees. Nothing he hasn’t seen before. It all felt the same after a while.
“Did we break down?” Frank said from somewhere around the small table.
“We did not,” Ray answered, but Gerard knew Ray, it was Ray’s ‘I am not dealing with this’ voice. He and Christa had a fight just yesterday and Ray was still, well, not himself.
“I think we did,” Mikey threw in. He didn’t even look up from his cellphone. Gerard put his comic away; he wasn’t reading it anyway and got up.
“I’m gonna check with the driver.”
“I’m coming with!” Frank said, jumping to his feet. Frank hated to be still and every excuse to not be confined was a good one. Gerard would bet everything that Frank wished for something to happen just so he could get out of the damn bus. Gerard wouldn’t mind it either.
The bus broke down. They were stranded. More or less.
“Nothing we can do,” Mikey said and shrugged.
“Yeah, no. I’m calling someone to get us. I need to meet up with Christa, guys.” Ray was already on the phone and Gerard was sure he would get them out of the middle of nowhere. And soon, because that's what Ray did. They were on their way back anyway. The thing was, Gerard wasn’t sure he wanted to get back home. Usually after a tour he did, but this time he just wasn’t sure.
“Gee?” Mikey asked softly his long fingers curling around Gerard’s shoulder.
“I want to go on a road trip,” he answered.
“Now,” Mikey said.
Gerard nodded, even if it wasn’t a question.
Mikey leaned into him, looking out of the window. “What are you looking for?” he wanted to know. It was just a whisper.
“Something,” Gerard answered and then, because it wasn’t something at all, “Someone.”
Mikey nodded. “Want company?”
“Yeah.” There would never be a day when Gerard didn't want to be with Mikey on whatever adventure he was. But it was good to know that Mikey still wanted to follow him wherever his brain or feeling or muse led him.
~3~
The car made noises the whole time from Missing Mile to wherever they were right now. On the other hand the car always made noises, not very reassuring ones either.
“Piece of shit!” Steve said and kicked the car for good measure. Ghost leaned against it and felt it shudder as Steve let out his anger. He closed his eyes and soaked up the sun and wind. There was a hint of salt in the air. It was still freaking cold.
“We’re near the ocean,” he said and felt Steve turn to him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, maybe we should just find a room,” Ghost said and he didn’t even know why he said it. But on the other hand, their car was broken, it would be night soon and he was hungry.
“I’m starving.”
“How much cash do we have?” Ghost asked.
“Enough,” Steve answered, which wasn’t a real answer at all, but Ghost would take it, because that’s how it was between them. And besides Ghost didn’t like money. Didn’t like to care about it either. He trusted Steve to make this work for them. He guessed that Steve did the same in return.
“There is a bed and breakfast a few miles ahead.”
“Ocean view, hmm?” Steve asked and didn’t bother asking how Ghost knew this stuff. Not like he used to do before. Things have changed, Ghost wasn't sure if for the better, but you couldn't always tell these things. Not even Ghost.
Ghost turned and smiled at Steve. “Ocean view.”
~+~
Gerard took a sharp turn on a gravel road and Mikey gave him a look. It was Mikey’s WTF look.
“I don’t know,” Gerard answered.
Mikey nodded. He rolled with it because he was Mikey and because he was a bit worried.
“I’m starving,” Mikey said as they passed an abandoned car.
“Yeah, me too. We should find a diner or something.”
Mikey turned to him and smiled. “At least you’re still eating.”
“I need coffee and a cigarette too,” Gerard said. It was the truth, but Mikey was right, this wasn't one of his fits where he abandon everything and just concentrated to fucking finish the painting, the song, the panel, or whatever he was working on at the moment. This here was more of a journey maybe. He wasn't sure. It didn't feel too urgent. But urgent enough to get a car and hit the road right now.
~4~
Ghost woke to the sound of music and Steve’s scent in his nose. Steve’s fingers were tightening in Ghost worn shirt as Ghost breathed and tried to detangle himself from Steve. He took a shallow breath and then another, watched Steve’s eyelashes move with it and Steve slowly relaxed his grip on the shirt. He rolled carefully away, stood up and took a deeper breath. He cocked his head, listening. The music was still there.
Sometimes it was only in his head, but this wasn’t. This was coming from outside. He took the few steps to the wall that connected them to another room and pressed his ear against it.
Someone was singing. There was the sound of water too: someone was singing in the shower. Ghost smiled and held his breath. His hand splayed against the wall, like it wanted to connect with whoever was on the other side of the wall. He breathed softly and as quietly as he could, closed his eyes and listened. Sometimes it was just enough to enjoy someone else's voice.
~+~
Gerard stopped singing and leaned against the wall, his hand splayed out against the tile. He looked at it as if it weren’t a part of himself. His breath hitched and then he shook his head, because what the fuck, seriously. What the fuck? He rinsed and stepped out of the shower. He needed coffee and something to eat. A bagel would be awesome. Or something really sweet. He could hear Mikey on the other side of the door, doing something. Gerard had no idea, actually what his brother was doing. Texting, maybe, putting on clothes, packing their bags.
He rubbed at his hair, combed it with his fingers and then looked back to the shower, the wall that connected them with another room. He ran his fingers against it, along it, like he would with a person and then smiled. He was truly fucked up.
~5~
Steve was giving him a look over the rim of the coffee mug.
Ghost shrugged. “We have no other option.”
“No,” Steve said and there was steel in his voice. Ghost knew that tone. It was hard to argue with that tone. That was the tone in which Steve had told the priest to fuck off or he would tear his black heart out.
Ghost sighed and took a piece of croissant between his fingers, turned it this way and that before he put it in his mouth.
“It’s not only a car,” Steve said like he needed to get that across to Ghost. He didn’t. Ghost knew it wasn’t only a car to Steve. No matter what Steve liked to call the car, he loved that thing more than anything else, maybe except his guitar or Ghost.
Ghost nodded and ripped another soft piece off of the croissant. He dipped it into his hot chocolate, blew on it and then ate it. Chewing slowly and carefully. He was waiting. He didn’t know for what or whom, but he was waiting.
Steve drank in silence.
They just knew each other too well.
~+~
Something giddy was doing something funny in Gerard’s guts. It was like the feeling just before they got on stage, a bit like the high during a really fucking great show. It was anticipation. He threw his shirt into his bag and took a last look at the room. No, they got everything. Mikey was leaning against the door. Phone in one hand, cigarette in the other. He was waiting Gerard out. He was always waiting Gerard out.
“So, Frank asks what we’re doing.”
“Road trip, I bet Frank knows what a road trip is,” Gerard answered, grabbing his bag and making a noise of thanks as Mikey handed his smoke over.
Mikey didn’t roll his eyes, but Gerard knew it was a close thing. “Yeah, it was more about when we’ll be back and if we got him presents.”
“No idea and no. We could go down to the shore and grab a few shells?”
“That’s so romantic,” Mikey mocked.
Gerard smiled. “We could paint them later and send them via mail.”
“I think Alicia would like that, actually,” Mikey answered. He stepped out of the room and into the corridor. They could smell coffee from downstairs and Gerard’s stomach made a noise. He was hungry again.
They got their coffee in the kitchen, it was fresh and delicious and Gerard took a mug outside onto the porch where other guests were sitting. He caught strands of pale hair out of the corner of his eye and turned sharply, splashing coffee onto the wood at his feet.
“Gee?” Mikey asked beside him, exhaling smoke and handing him a croissant.
“Nothing, I just- nothing.” He took the croissant and shook his head. This was getting ridiculous.
“Can we hit the road again after breakfast?”
“What about the shells?” Gerard asked, taking a sip of coffee. It tasted rich and delicious.
Mikey shrugged.
When they reached the car there were seashells on the hood. Just lying there arranged in a circle.
“Strange,” Mikey said, scooping them up.
Gerard took a pale white one with a pink streak into his hand and turned it so he could look at it better in the morning sun.
“Yeah.” But they were beautiful.
TWO
I miss the summer dawn
~1~
It was still cold in the mornings, but it got better after breakfast and coffee or chocolate for Ghost. He trusted Steve when he said they had enough cash to get them to another state maybe even two. Enough for tea and gas at least. Maybe not enough for motel rooms or food, but Ghost was sure someone, something would cross their paths and they would get by. Ghost trusted in the world to take care of him if he really needed it.
He was watching the sea and the horizon and waited. Steve was leaning against the car, he was waiting too. The mechanic they met during breakfast was off to get a spare part and they didn't have to pay for. .
“I have no idea how you do that,” Steve said, exhaling smoke.
“It just happens. I have no control over the world or the people who are living in it,” Ghost answered. He slung his too big cardigan tighter around his body and buried his fingers in the wool. Here on the beach it was even colder than on the porch.
“Maybe it's a karma thing,” Steve mused.
“Maybe,” Ghost allowed. It was as good an explanation as any. He tried to be a good person. Most people did in Ghost's experience. Even Steve though Steve was so full of flaws.
“Good thing that we met the mechanic. I have no idea what we would've done otherwise.”
Ghost nodded. He didn't either, but then he never really thought they would be stranded at the bed and breakfast. Somehow life went on. Ghost was pretty sure Steve and the car would die at the same time. He tried not to think about it too much.
~+~
Gerard played with the shells while Mikey was driving. They looked really freaking pretty. It would be a shame to paint them and send to someone. He wanted to keep them. Mikey smiled, just a lift of his lip at the corner. Gerard could see it in profile.
“You want to keep them and probably make a necklace out of them, don't you?”
“A lamp,” Gerard joked.
Mikey smiled fully now. “You can, you know.”
“What? Make a lamp?”
Mikey rolled his eyes. “Keep them. I have no idea who the hell left them on the hood of the car, but they look like they're meant for you.”
“Strange, isn't it? How can they be meant for me?” Gerard asked, but he was feeling it too. He brushed a finger down the side of a shell and it felt fragile and sharp, but smooth too, under his fingertip.
Mikey shrugged. “After the Paramour I believe in everything.” Mikey said it without a shudder, Gerard knew because he was watching his brother. The Paramour was a bitter taste in Mikey's mouth. A dark streak in his system. And Gerard was feeling less guilty for it every day. He didn't know what it meant. Maybe that they were moving on after all. Because it was the only thing to do when you were alive.
“This seems different.”
“I know, that's why I don't call you crazy and am driving the car to destination: I don't freaking know, but I need to get there.”
Gerard laughed. He loved Mikey. He set one shell aside and held it up to the window. It was nearly translucent in the sun. “This one we're going to mail to Alice at the next town,” he said.
Mikey looked over briefly and nodded. “It's beautiful.”
It was.
~2~
It was still freaking cold, but the air was changing and so was the smell. The ocean never ever smelled the same in different places. Ghost let the wind run through his fingers as Steve drove just a bit above the speed limit. Strands of Ghost's hair were caught and blown out of the car window. He didn't mind.
“So, where are we going?” he asked, turning his head to look at Steve's profile.
“A guy who knows a guy who knows a guy called while you were busy talking to trees -”
Ghost rolled his eyes. “Suck my aura, Steve.”
Steve smiled “and there is an open gig for food and a bed in a hole in a wall club in Los Angeles. If you're interested.”
“Los Angeles,” Ghost repeated and tasted the words on his tongue. He’d never been to Los Angeles before. New York has been weird and oddly fascinating, but he wasn't so sure about Los Angeles.
“Something wrong?” Steve asked.
“No,” Ghost answered, because there wasn't anything wrong with Los Angeles per se. There were evil things everywhere. Even Missing Mile had a haunted house. Ghost never even stepped on the porch because it gave him the creeps even as a child.
Steve gave him a quick searching look, but Ghost really couldn't put his finger on the feeling he had. It wasn't doom, it was something else. He shrugged.
“Los Angeles it is then?” Steve was watching the road again, but the decision was Ghost's.
“Yeah, Los Angeles it is.”
~+~
“Sooner or later we'll have to move to L.A.,” Mikey said, he was gripping his coffee-mug like a lifeline. Gerard was doing the same, so he wasn't judging. He groaned. He didn't want to talk about it again. He liked Jersey. It was home. Gritty, filthy home. What the hell should he be doing in L.A. State of sunshine? “That's Florida,” Mikey said as Gerard voiced his concern.
Gerard rolled his eyes. “It's still fucking sunny, Mikey.”
“They have better sushi in L.A. than in Jersey, Gee.”
“They have better sushi in Japan than in L.A. and I don't see you buying a house there.”
“It would be hard to jam with you guys when I was living in Japan, but you're right, they have the best sushi there,” Mikey said, taking a sip of his coffee. He was drumming his fingers against the cheap porcelain. He needed a cigarette, but there was a big fat 'no smoking' sign just above their heads and Gerard wasn't such a rock-star douche to try and light up in here - neither was Mikey for that matter.
Gerard sighed. “I guess we could stop by and visit people or whatever,” Gerard gave in. He waved a waitress down for more coffee.
“We need coffee for the road too and something to eat.”
“They don't have sushi here,” Gerard said with a grin.
Mikey gave him a look that said: you were funnier once upon a time. “We'll take the pastries then,” he answered.
“We need to stop for gas too. Soon.”
“I saw a gas-station when we drove into the parking lot,” Mikey said absentmindedly.
“Good. I don't want to get stranded in the middle of nowhere and have to hitch hike.”
Mikey looked up from his coffee and grinned. “I would try to save you.”
“We need to stop watching the Urban Legend movies,” Gerard sighed.
“As if that would ever happen,” Mikey gave back and Gerard smiled at him.
~3~
The club was small and dark, the kind where kids got drunk on watered down beer way too fast. It reminded Ghost of their youth. Of course he and Steve drank more often at the cemetery than in a club - never mind that Missing Mile didn't have a 'club'. And the beer wasn't watered down at all. Ghost could recall the summer days of his youth perfectly. Sitting with his back against a tree or a gravestone, feeling the grass or earth under his fingertips. Steve a warm bubbling presence beside him. Talking a mile a minute about how they were going to make it big.
“Makes you fucking nostalgic,” Steve said behind him. Ghost could feel Steve's body warmth against his skin.
“Yeah,” he answered softly. It did make him fucking nostalgic, but then nearly everything did if he was in the right mood.
“I'm going to talk to the manager about food and a room, you don't wanna come with, do you?” He smirked.
Ghost shook his head. He didn't like to deal with stuff like that. “I'm going to hug some trees,” he said and Steve laughed before he patted Ghost on the shoulder and went off to find the manager's office.
Ghost looked around for a minute or two and then stepped outside again. The back alley was split in dark and light by the half-wall in the middle near the trash-cans. Ghost took a careful breath and closed his eyes. Nothing here but him. Nothing lurking in the shadows. Sometimes he was sick of waiting for something to find him. Sometimes he felt tired and old.
~+~
Gerard was tired but couldn't really sleep. Mikey was breathing slowly and regularly in the other bed. Probably dreaming of Alicia, he thought and got up. Carefully not to wake his brother. He grabbed a jacket, his sketchbook, a pen and a few of the shells and went to sit outside on the balcony. It was rickety and didn't look very safe, but it didn't look like it would break down any second either. He sat down on one of the chairs and lit a cigarette. There was just enough light to sketch stuff if he felt like it. He didn't, but sometimes inspiration struck anyway, so it was good to have a pencil and paper close. He put the sketchbook aside and leaned against the back of the chair.
They would be in L.A. tomorrow. Gerard was sure Mikey would want to stay with Pete. Gerard himself wasn't so sure. He didn't dislike Pete, but he didn't think he could deal with Wentz now either. He was in a weird mood, searching desperately for something and discovering the meaning of life (or something) in the process. Wasn't that what road trips were for? To discover your inner self? A purpose in life? He had a purpose and maybe the touring was a giant road trip, a soul-searching quest on its own. He did get his life together, he mused. So the point was a valid one. He breathed out smoke and looked up at the sky, his other hand playing absentmindedly with the shells. They made tiny noises, not like bells or stones. It was a hollow noise, but not sad. He couldn't describe it, but wanted to desperately. He took another drag of his cigarette. Seemed inspiration didn't strike, but the insomnia was still partying hard. Gerard closed his eyes and listened to the noises of the night. Sometimes it helped to calm the insomnia down. Sometimes it didn't, but it helped to pass the time to when it was okay to be awake and have the first blissful cup of coffee.
~4~
Ghost leaned his head against the wall and listened to Steve take a shower in the bathroom. The walls were really fucking thin. Like paper, he thought.
Something was at the back of his head. A niggling feeling to move, get out of the room, but he felt tired and he knew that Steve slept better when he had a warm body beside him. Ghost slept better when he knew Steve was able to sleep. After everything that had happen with Ann, Ghost wasn't even wondering about Steve's need to feel a human being close by in the dead hours of the night.
He closed his eyes and tried to remember the song he heard at the bed and breakfast near the ocean. It wasn't something he heard before he was sure, but that didn't mean it wasn't a popular song. Ghost wasn't really up to date with the stuff that was playing on the radio. Besides radios tended to play whatever the hell they wanted when Ghost was near. He remembered a six-hour drive with Steve where they had to listen to 50's rock until Steve killed the engine in a parking lot for the night. That was before Ann.
“You're thinking too loud,” Steve said and Ghost looked up. Steve was only wearing shorts and a towel with which he was drying his hair. Droplets of water were running down the planes and hollows of his body from his neck to his hipbones where they disappeared in the boxer-shorts and left wet patches.
“I can't help it,” Ghost shrugged.
“Shower's free.”
“Thanks. I got us food...” Ghost said, gesturing to the bedside table.
“Crisps and soda, how refreshing.”
“They were out of Mars and Snickers.”
“M&M's?” Steve asked, sitting down on the bed. They had two, but there was no way they would use them.
“Somewhere in that pile,” Ghost answered stripping. He threw his clothes onto the floor and opened the bathroom door. Inside was hot and damp, but it smelled like Steve's shampoo. Ghost felt instantly calmer.
~+~
“Did you even sleep?” Mikey rubbed his belly and Gerard shook his head, then nodded, because he had slept. A bit. It still counted. “Is that an 'a bit'?” Mikey asked. He stretched. Gerard heard his joints pop.
“Yeah. I feel a comeback of the insomnia,” Gerard joked.
Mikey didn't find it funny. Not even a little bit, Gerard could read it on his face. “Shower and then coffee?” he asked.
Gerard made a face. “I'll get the coffee, you can take the first shower.”
“You need it more,” Mikey answered, but there was no heat behind his words. Mikey thought that showering was a waste of time if you didn't have much of it. Thing was, they did have enough time. They were on a break. They could do whatever they wanted.
“I'll take a quick one when I have coffee in my system, Mikes. I am awake way too long - I don't even know how I function.”
Mikey rolled his eyes, but stripped his shirt on threw it in the direction of their bags. “Fine. We need to do laundry.”
“Okay,” Gerard said and left the room before Mikey could start on how Pete had a washing machine. Gerard was sure that Pete had one. Hell, he had one too. Back at the apartment where he didn't live enough days in the year to call it home. Where no one waited for him. Sometimes he thought it's a fancy and way too expensive canvas storage room. Still cheaper than buying a house or renting something in L. fucking A. he thought.
He got coffee from a diner nearby and when he came back Mikey was toweling his hair with one hand and talking to someone on the phone with the other. He abandoned the towel for the cup of hot fresh coffee when Gerard handed it over.
Gerard raised an eyebrow in question. Mikey mouthed 'Pete'. Of course.
~5~
They had scored another gig in Los Angeles two days later for actual cash. Steve was feeling pleased with himself and Ghost was okay with staying a bit longer too. They could go sightseeing and try to find a place to stay, because their room was already rented out to someone else.
“You could try to work some of your magic,” Steve joked.
Ghost tilted his head up so he could soak up the sun and didn't tell Steve that it just didn't work like that. Steve's hand brushed his and he intertwined their fingers on the warm surface of the bench they were sitting on. When he concentrated he could hear the ocean. Maybe it was in his head, but it sounded awfully real. He squeezed Steve's fingers. “It'll turn out alright,” Steve said softly. There was a 'this time' unspoken there, but Ghost heard it anyway. Sometimes they didn't need the words.
Ghost really wanted to believe him.
~+~
Gerard was still on the fence about staying at Pete's.
“It's just that there is so much in my head,” he said and Mikey nodded, because he knew how that felt.
“We don't have to, you know.”
“I know, but you can. We don't have to share every minute of every day with each other. There was a time I was able to live without you, you know?” Gerard asked teasingly.
Mikey rolled his eyes and pressed closer to Gerard, so they touched from shoulder to knee. “That's because you didn't know what you were missing. And you didn't really live anyway before I was born.”
It was kind of true, was the thing. The first clear memories he had were about mom being pregnant and Mikey kicking in her belly and them singing him something. Sometimes mom played the piano and Helena sang. Sometimes Gerard was allowed to paint shapes and stick figures on her stretched skin with Nivea as she was reading on the couch. The windows wide open to let the summer air in. Real life began after Mikey was born. When Gerard could hold his hand and play with his fingers. Wondering about the tiny feet and toes and how delicate they looked and pink. Helena sketching them for Gerard so he could pin them over his bed as a reminder that he wasn't alone anymore.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“I would stay with you at a hotel,” Mikey said.
Gerard closed his eyes and just felt his brother's warmth against his own skin where their bodies touched without the barrier of clothes. “You don't have to. I'll be alright on my own. You'll be alright on your own.”
“We will be,” Mikey said, grabbing for Gerard's hand and squeezing his fingers for a second or thirty. Gerard wasn't counting and time became something else when he was with Mikey anyway.
continue
Author: creepylicious/alles_luege
Pairing: Chad/Patrick, Gerard/Ghost
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Roadtrip fic with ghosts.
Ghost was still looking at the man in the window. “I'm sorry,” he said eventually.
“What for?” the man asked, inhaling sharply.
“That you're stuck here with someone who doesn't love you anymore like you want him to,” Ghost said and then bit his lip, because people didn't always want to hear these things. Even dead people didn't want to hear these things. Especially dead people. Maybe. He wasn't sure.
The man exhaled another lungful of smoke. He sighed. “Yeah, I'm sorry too.” He sounded resigned.
Warning(s): ghosts
Author’s Notes: American Horror Story/Lost Souls/Bandom crossover.
Word Count: 15.252
Beta: slashaddx
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real
ONE
Wake up to the sound of music
~1~
Ghost woke to the soft caress of winter-sunshine on his skin. It felt like a hesitant lover's touch. The pillow smelled of summer-flowers, but it was only in his head. He knew it didn't make it less real. His body felt heavy like it does after sleeping too long. He turned to the window with his eyes still closed and chased the dream he could taste at the tip of his tongue.
Something made a loud noise downstairs and he opened his eyes startled.
“Shit, oh fuck!” Steve's voice was sharp in the gentle winter sun.
He sat up. “You okay?” he yelled, just loud enough to be heard.
“I'm getting sick of the house,” Steve replied and it didn't mean he was sick of Ghost's house, even if he still thought of it as his grandmother's, but simply that he needed to be on the road again. Maybe they both needed it. “Ghost?”
“I'm up,” Ghost said, still looking at the sky just out of reach, behind the glass.
“Can we go for coffee?”
“Is there money in the jar?” Ghost asked back, his toes curling and uncurling on the cold hardwood floor.
“Enough for a cup or two,” Steve answered.
“Yeah, let's go out for coffee,” he replied, but it was so quiet that Steve couldn't possibly have heard it.
~+~
“Coffee, oh thank fucking god,” Gerard said, grabbing the mug from the counter.
“Fucker,” Frank scowled at him. Frank would forgive Gerard. He always did.
“I had the weirdest dream,” Gerard said.
“Coming from you, it means something,” Frank answered, lighting a cigarette. He opened the window of the small kitchen too, so Ray wouldn't bitch about his breakfast tasting like ashes.
“I was walking down an old road and there were all these trees and like, plants and shit-”
“And we know how much you love trees and shit,” Frank threw in. Gerard ignored him. Frank was still a bit bitchy about the coffee thing, even if he was pouring a cup for himself right now.
Gerard waved his hand in a universal gesture that said 'shut up' with a please at the end, maybe. Frank rolled his eyes and took a drag of his cigarette.
“You wanna hear it or not?” he asked.
“Go on.”
“And there was this person-”
“Person?” Frank wanted to know, he was grinning.
“Is this about one of your weird porn magazines?” Mikey asked, stumbling into the kitchen. Gerard gave him a look and then handed his mug over without a word. “Thanks,” Mikey said sitting down at the table.
“No, and they aren't weird.”
“Whatever.”
Gerard bit on his nail and looked out of the window. “Person, because I have no idea if it was a boy or not. I mean, I'm not sure.”
“What do your guts tell you?” Mikey asked in his calm Mikey voice.
“Really?” Frank asked. He was grinning and would be laughing out loud in a few seconds, but Gerard could ignore it now that Mikey was up and had coffee in his system. They could talk it out so it would make sense in Gerard's head.
“A boy,” Gerard answered. Mikey nodded. Frank leaned against the kitchen counter: one hip against the sharp edge of it. It would most likely bruise and look badass. Frank wore bruises like jewelry. “I knew him in my dream. I knew his name and we were walking until we weren't anymore. There was this like a fair or something? Or a carnival, but the old ones, you know? He sat down and all the people were really douchey and giving him looks trying to decide if he was a girl or not and I was really pissed off,” he waved his hand, realizing he wasn't holding a cigarette he went back to nibbling on his thumb.
“Gerard,” Mikey said.
“I don't even know,” Gerard answered.
Mikey nodded like he got it and more times than not Mikey really did. Mikey got up and poured the rest of the coffee into two mugs, he handed one to Gerard and Gee nodded his thanks. Frank finished his morning cigarette and threw the butt out of the window. Gerard briefly thought about giving him the speech for that one, but he was doing it too more often than not. And if he tried to save every little blade of grass on top of everything else, he would go insane. He just sighed.
“I'll think of it next time,” Frank said and he sounded sincere.
It’ll have to do, Gerard thought, nodding.
~2~
Ghost inhaled the aroma of the coffee and it brought back a wave of memories. Warm, fuzzy memories. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply once more. He could feel Steve watching him, but then Steve was always watching him. He sat the mug on the table carefully and looked over at Steve.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay, what?” Steve wanted to know.
“Okay, let’s hit the road.”
Steve sighed in relief. He was glad, Ghost knew, that they could leave Missing Mile again. It was home, but sometimes the familiarity of it all was too much for Steve to bear.
Sometimes it was too much for Ghost too, but Ghost could never escape himself or the things that entered his life without being invited. Steve’s eyes lingered a few seconds too long on Ghost’s face before he looked away again. He was staring out of the window. Steve changed, but then that’s life for you. Nothing ever stays the same.
“Tomorrow?” Steve asked, still not looking away from the pavement outside. There were men playing chess outside on the sidewalk in the morning winter chill, but Ghost was pretty sure Steve wasn’t paying attention to that.
“Yes,” he answered softly. For some reason that startled Steve and he looked back with a sharp movement of his body. It nearly made Ghost back away, but he didn’t. He couldn’t, didn’t know how.
Steve took a deep breath. “Okay.”
~+~
There was this nagging feeling at the back of Gerard’s head, like he needed to be somewhere where he was not, but then he felt that way way too often. It was how he dealt with his issues. (Good thing the whole being a rock-star thing turned out okay for them.) The bus rocked into a halt and he looked out of the window. Grass and pavement and in the distance a few trees. Nothing he hasn’t seen before. It all felt the same after a while.
“Did we break down?” Frank said from somewhere around the small table.
“We did not,” Ray answered, but Gerard knew Ray, it was Ray’s ‘I am not dealing with this’ voice. He and Christa had a fight just yesterday and Ray was still, well, not himself.
“I think we did,” Mikey threw in. He didn’t even look up from his cellphone. Gerard put his comic away; he wasn’t reading it anyway and got up.
“I’m gonna check with the driver.”
“I’m coming with!” Frank said, jumping to his feet. Frank hated to be still and every excuse to not be confined was a good one. Gerard would bet everything that Frank wished for something to happen just so he could get out of the damn bus. Gerard wouldn’t mind it either.
The bus broke down. They were stranded. More or less.
“Nothing we can do,” Mikey said and shrugged.
“Yeah, no. I’m calling someone to get us. I need to meet up with Christa, guys.” Ray was already on the phone and Gerard was sure he would get them out of the middle of nowhere. And soon, because that's what Ray did. They were on their way back anyway. The thing was, Gerard wasn’t sure he wanted to get back home. Usually after a tour he did, but this time he just wasn’t sure.
“Gee?” Mikey asked softly his long fingers curling around Gerard’s shoulder.
“I want to go on a road trip,” he answered.
“Now,” Mikey said.
Gerard nodded, even if it wasn’t a question.
Mikey leaned into him, looking out of the window. “What are you looking for?” he wanted to know. It was just a whisper.
“Something,” Gerard answered and then, because it wasn’t something at all, “Someone.”
Mikey nodded. “Want company?”
“Yeah.” There would never be a day when Gerard didn't want to be with Mikey on whatever adventure he was. But it was good to know that Mikey still wanted to follow him wherever his brain or feeling or muse led him.
~3~
The car made noises the whole time from Missing Mile to wherever they were right now. On the other hand the car always made noises, not very reassuring ones either.
“Piece of shit!” Steve said and kicked the car for good measure. Ghost leaned against it and felt it shudder as Steve let out his anger. He closed his eyes and soaked up the sun and wind. There was a hint of salt in the air. It was still freaking cold.
“We’re near the ocean,” he said and felt Steve turn to him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, maybe we should just find a room,” Ghost said and he didn’t even know why he said it. But on the other hand, their car was broken, it would be night soon and he was hungry.
“I’m starving.”
“How much cash do we have?” Ghost asked.
“Enough,” Steve answered, which wasn’t a real answer at all, but Ghost would take it, because that’s how it was between them. And besides Ghost didn’t like money. Didn’t like to care about it either. He trusted Steve to make this work for them. He guessed that Steve did the same in return.
“There is a bed and breakfast a few miles ahead.”
“Ocean view, hmm?” Steve asked and didn’t bother asking how Ghost knew this stuff. Not like he used to do before. Things have changed, Ghost wasn't sure if for the better, but you couldn't always tell these things. Not even Ghost.
Ghost turned and smiled at Steve. “Ocean view.”
~+~
Gerard took a sharp turn on a gravel road and Mikey gave him a look. It was Mikey’s WTF look.
“I don’t know,” Gerard answered.
Mikey nodded. He rolled with it because he was Mikey and because he was a bit worried.
“I’m starving,” Mikey said as they passed an abandoned car.
“Yeah, me too. We should find a diner or something.”
Mikey turned to him and smiled. “At least you’re still eating.”
“I need coffee and a cigarette too,” Gerard said. It was the truth, but Mikey was right, this wasn't one of his fits where he abandon everything and just concentrated to fucking finish the painting, the song, the panel, or whatever he was working on at the moment. This here was more of a journey maybe. He wasn't sure. It didn't feel too urgent. But urgent enough to get a car and hit the road right now.
~4~
Ghost woke to the sound of music and Steve’s scent in his nose. Steve’s fingers were tightening in Ghost worn shirt as Ghost breathed and tried to detangle himself from Steve. He took a shallow breath and then another, watched Steve’s eyelashes move with it and Steve slowly relaxed his grip on the shirt. He rolled carefully away, stood up and took a deeper breath. He cocked his head, listening. The music was still there.
Sometimes it was only in his head, but this wasn’t. This was coming from outside. He took the few steps to the wall that connected them to another room and pressed his ear against it.
Someone was singing. There was the sound of water too: someone was singing in the shower. Ghost smiled and held his breath. His hand splayed against the wall, like it wanted to connect with whoever was on the other side of the wall. He breathed softly and as quietly as he could, closed his eyes and listened. Sometimes it was just enough to enjoy someone else's voice.
~+~
Gerard stopped singing and leaned against the wall, his hand splayed out against the tile. He looked at it as if it weren’t a part of himself. His breath hitched and then he shook his head, because what the fuck, seriously. What the fuck? He rinsed and stepped out of the shower. He needed coffee and something to eat. A bagel would be awesome. Or something really sweet. He could hear Mikey on the other side of the door, doing something. Gerard had no idea, actually what his brother was doing. Texting, maybe, putting on clothes, packing their bags.
He rubbed at his hair, combed it with his fingers and then looked back to the shower, the wall that connected them with another room. He ran his fingers against it, along it, like he would with a person and then smiled. He was truly fucked up.
~5~
Steve was giving him a look over the rim of the coffee mug.
Ghost shrugged. “We have no other option.”
“No,” Steve said and there was steel in his voice. Ghost knew that tone. It was hard to argue with that tone. That was the tone in which Steve had told the priest to fuck off or he would tear his black heart out.
Ghost sighed and took a piece of croissant between his fingers, turned it this way and that before he put it in his mouth.
“It’s not only a car,” Steve said like he needed to get that across to Ghost. He didn’t. Ghost knew it wasn’t only a car to Steve. No matter what Steve liked to call the car, he loved that thing more than anything else, maybe except his guitar or Ghost.
Ghost nodded and ripped another soft piece off of the croissant. He dipped it into his hot chocolate, blew on it and then ate it. Chewing slowly and carefully. He was waiting. He didn’t know for what or whom, but he was waiting.
Steve drank in silence.
They just knew each other too well.
~+~
Something giddy was doing something funny in Gerard’s guts. It was like the feeling just before they got on stage, a bit like the high during a really fucking great show. It was anticipation. He threw his shirt into his bag and took a last look at the room. No, they got everything. Mikey was leaning against the door. Phone in one hand, cigarette in the other. He was waiting Gerard out. He was always waiting Gerard out.
“So, Frank asks what we’re doing.”
“Road trip, I bet Frank knows what a road trip is,” Gerard answered, grabbing his bag and making a noise of thanks as Mikey handed his smoke over.
Mikey didn’t roll his eyes, but Gerard knew it was a close thing. “Yeah, it was more about when we’ll be back and if we got him presents.”
“No idea and no. We could go down to the shore and grab a few shells?”
“That’s so romantic,” Mikey mocked.
Gerard smiled. “We could paint them later and send them via mail.”
“I think Alicia would like that, actually,” Mikey answered. He stepped out of the room and into the corridor. They could smell coffee from downstairs and Gerard’s stomach made a noise. He was hungry again.
They got their coffee in the kitchen, it was fresh and delicious and Gerard took a mug outside onto the porch where other guests were sitting. He caught strands of pale hair out of the corner of his eye and turned sharply, splashing coffee onto the wood at his feet.
“Gee?” Mikey asked beside him, exhaling smoke and handing him a croissant.
“Nothing, I just- nothing.” He took the croissant and shook his head. This was getting ridiculous.
“Can we hit the road again after breakfast?”
“What about the shells?” Gerard asked, taking a sip of coffee. It tasted rich and delicious.
Mikey shrugged.
When they reached the car there were seashells on the hood. Just lying there arranged in a circle.
“Strange,” Mikey said, scooping them up.
Gerard took a pale white one with a pink streak into his hand and turned it so he could look at it better in the morning sun.
“Yeah.” But they were beautiful.
TWO
I miss the summer dawn
~1~
It was still cold in the mornings, but it got better after breakfast and coffee or chocolate for Ghost. He trusted Steve when he said they had enough cash to get them to another state maybe even two. Enough for tea and gas at least. Maybe not enough for motel rooms or food, but Ghost was sure someone, something would cross their paths and they would get by. Ghost trusted in the world to take care of him if he really needed it.
He was watching the sea and the horizon and waited. Steve was leaning against the car, he was waiting too. The mechanic they met during breakfast was off to get a spare part and they didn't have to pay for. .
“I have no idea how you do that,” Steve said, exhaling smoke.
“It just happens. I have no control over the world or the people who are living in it,” Ghost answered. He slung his too big cardigan tighter around his body and buried his fingers in the wool. Here on the beach it was even colder than on the porch.
“Maybe it's a karma thing,” Steve mused.
“Maybe,” Ghost allowed. It was as good an explanation as any. He tried to be a good person. Most people did in Ghost's experience. Even Steve though Steve was so full of flaws.
“Good thing that we met the mechanic. I have no idea what we would've done otherwise.”
Ghost nodded. He didn't either, but then he never really thought they would be stranded at the bed and breakfast. Somehow life went on. Ghost was pretty sure Steve and the car would die at the same time. He tried not to think about it too much.
~+~
Gerard played with the shells while Mikey was driving. They looked really freaking pretty. It would be a shame to paint them and send to someone. He wanted to keep them. Mikey smiled, just a lift of his lip at the corner. Gerard could see it in profile.
“You want to keep them and probably make a necklace out of them, don't you?”
“A lamp,” Gerard joked.
Mikey smiled fully now. “You can, you know.”
“What? Make a lamp?”
Mikey rolled his eyes. “Keep them. I have no idea who the hell left them on the hood of the car, but they look like they're meant for you.”
“Strange, isn't it? How can they be meant for me?” Gerard asked, but he was feeling it too. He brushed a finger down the side of a shell and it felt fragile and sharp, but smooth too, under his fingertip.
Mikey shrugged. “After the Paramour I believe in everything.” Mikey said it without a shudder, Gerard knew because he was watching his brother. The Paramour was a bitter taste in Mikey's mouth. A dark streak in his system. And Gerard was feeling less guilty for it every day. He didn't know what it meant. Maybe that they were moving on after all. Because it was the only thing to do when you were alive.
“This seems different.”
“I know, that's why I don't call you crazy and am driving the car to destination: I don't freaking know, but I need to get there.”
Gerard laughed. He loved Mikey. He set one shell aside and held it up to the window. It was nearly translucent in the sun. “This one we're going to mail to Alice at the next town,” he said.
Mikey looked over briefly and nodded. “It's beautiful.”
It was.
~2~
It was still freaking cold, but the air was changing and so was the smell. The ocean never ever smelled the same in different places. Ghost let the wind run through his fingers as Steve drove just a bit above the speed limit. Strands of Ghost's hair were caught and blown out of the car window. He didn't mind.
“So, where are we going?” he asked, turning his head to look at Steve's profile.
“A guy who knows a guy who knows a guy called while you were busy talking to trees -”
Ghost rolled his eyes. “Suck my aura, Steve.”
Steve smiled “and there is an open gig for food and a bed in a hole in a wall club in Los Angeles. If you're interested.”
“Los Angeles,” Ghost repeated and tasted the words on his tongue. He’d never been to Los Angeles before. New York has been weird and oddly fascinating, but he wasn't so sure about Los Angeles.
“Something wrong?” Steve asked.
“No,” Ghost answered, because there wasn't anything wrong with Los Angeles per se. There were evil things everywhere. Even Missing Mile had a haunted house. Ghost never even stepped on the porch because it gave him the creeps even as a child.
Steve gave him a quick searching look, but Ghost really couldn't put his finger on the feeling he had. It wasn't doom, it was something else. He shrugged.
“Los Angeles it is then?” Steve was watching the road again, but the decision was Ghost's.
“Yeah, Los Angeles it is.”
~+~
“Sooner or later we'll have to move to L.A.,” Mikey said, he was gripping his coffee-mug like a lifeline. Gerard was doing the same, so he wasn't judging. He groaned. He didn't want to talk about it again. He liked Jersey. It was home. Gritty, filthy home. What the hell should he be doing in L.A. State of sunshine? “That's Florida,” Mikey said as Gerard voiced his concern.
Gerard rolled his eyes. “It's still fucking sunny, Mikey.”
“They have better sushi in L.A. than in Jersey, Gee.”
“They have better sushi in Japan than in L.A. and I don't see you buying a house there.”
“It would be hard to jam with you guys when I was living in Japan, but you're right, they have the best sushi there,” Mikey said, taking a sip of his coffee. He was drumming his fingers against the cheap porcelain. He needed a cigarette, but there was a big fat 'no smoking' sign just above their heads and Gerard wasn't such a rock-star douche to try and light up in here - neither was Mikey for that matter.
Gerard sighed. “I guess we could stop by and visit people or whatever,” Gerard gave in. He waved a waitress down for more coffee.
“We need coffee for the road too and something to eat.”
“They don't have sushi here,” Gerard said with a grin.
Mikey gave him a look that said: you were funnier once upon a time. “We'll take the pastries then,” he answered.
“We need to stop for gas too. Soon.”
“I saw a gas-station when we drove into the parking lot,” Mikey said absentmindedly.
“Good. I don't want to get stranded in the middle of nowhere and have to hitch hike.”
Mikey looked up from his coffee and grinned. “I would try to save you.”
“We need to stop watching the Urban Legend movies,” Gerard sighed.
“As if that would ever happen,” Mikey gave back and Gerard smiled at him.
~3~
The club was small and dark, the kind where kids got drunk on watered down beer way too fast. It reminded Ghost of their youth. Of course he and Steve drank more often at the cemetery than in a club - never mind that Missing Mile didn't have a 'club'. And the beer wasn't watered down at all. Ghost could recall the summer days of his youth perfectly. Sitting with his back against a tree or a gravestone, feeling the grass or earth under his fingertips. Steve a warm bubbling presence beside him. Talking a mile a minute about how they were going to make it big.
“Makes you fucking nostalgic,” Steve said behind him. Ghost could feel Steve's body warmth against his skin.
“Yeah,” he answered softly. It did make him fucking nostalgic, but then nearly everything did if he was in the right mood.
“I'm going to talk to the manager about food and a room, you don't wanna come with, do you?” He smirked.
Ghost shook his head. He didn't like to deal with stuff like that. “I'm going to hug some trees,” he said and Steve laughed before he patted Ghost on the shoulder and went off to find the manager's office.
Ghost looked around for a minute or two and then stepped outside again. The back alley was split in dark and light by the half-wall in the middle near the trash-cans. Ghost took a careful breath and closed his eyes. Nothing here but him. Nothing lurking in the shadows. Sometimes he was sick of waiting for something to find him. Sometimes he felt tired and old.
~+~
Gerard was tired but couldn't really sleep. Mikey was breathing slowly and regularly in the other bed. Probably dreaming of Alicia, he thought and got up. Carefully not to wake his brother. He grabbed a jacket, his sketchbook, a pen and a few of the shells and went to sit outside on the balcony. It was rickety and didn't look very safe, but it didn't look like it would break down any second either. He sat down on one of the chairs and lit a cigarette. There was just enough light to sketch stuff if he felt like it. He didn't, but sometimes inspiration struck anyway, so it was good to have a pencil and paper close. He put the sketchbook aside and leaned against the back of the chair.
They would be in L.A. tomorrow. Gerard was sure Mikey would want to stay with Pete. Gerard himself wasn't so sure. He didn't dislike Pete, but he didn't think he could deal with Wentz now either. He was in a weird mood, searching desperately for something and discovering the meaning of life (or something) in the process. Wasn't that what road trips were for? To discover your inner self? A purpose in life? He had a purpose and maybe the touring was a giant road trip, a soul-searching quest on its own. He did get his life together, he mused. So the point was a valid one. He breathed out smoke and looked up at the sky, his other hand playing absentmindedly with the shells. They made tiny noises, not like bells or stones. It was a hollow noise, but not sad. He couldn't describe it, but wanted to desperately. He took another drag of his cigarette. Seemed inspiration didn't strike, but the insomnia was still partying hard. Gerard closed his eyes and listened to the noises of the night. Sometimes it helped to calm the insomnia down. Sometimes it didn't, but it helped to pass the time to when it was okay to be awake and have the first blissful cup of coffee.
~4~
Ghost leaned his head against the wall and listened to Steve take a shower in the bathroom. The walls were really fucking thin. Like paper, he thought.
Something was at the back of his head. A niggling feeling to move, get out of the room, but he felt tired and he knew that Steve slept better when he had a warm body beside him. Ghost slept better when he knew Steve was able to sleep. After everything that had happen with Ann, Ghost wasn't even wondering about Steve's need to feel a human being close by in the dead hours of the night.
He closed his eyes and tried to remember the song he heard at the bed and breakfast near the ocean. It wasn't something he heard before he was sure, but that didn't mean it wasn't a popular song. Ghost wasn't really up to date with the stuff that was playing on the radio. Besides radios tended to play whatever the hell they wanted when Ghost was near. He remembered a six-hour drive with Steve where they had to listen to 50's rock until Steve killed the engine in a parking lot for the night. That was before Ann.
“You're thinking too loud,” Steve said and Ghost looked up. Steve was only wearing shorts and a towel with which he was drying his hair. Droplets of water were running down the planes and hollows of his body from his neck to his hipbones where they disappeared in the boxer-shorts and left wet patches.
“I can't help it,” Ghost shrugged.
“Shower's free.”
“Thanks. I got us food...” Ghost said, gesturing to the bedside table.
“Crisps and soda, how refreshing.”
“They were out of Mars and Snickers.”
“M&M's?” Steve asked, sitting down on the bed. They had two, but there was no way they would use them.
“Somewhere in that pile,” Ghost answered stripping. He threw his clothes onto the floor and opened the bathroom door. Inside was hot and damp, but it smelled like Steve's shampoo. Ghost felt instantly calmer.
~+~
“Did you even sleep?” Mikey rubbed his belly and Gerard shook his head, then nodded, because he had slept. A bit. It still counted. “Is that an 'a bit'?” Mikey asked. He stretched. Gerard heard his joints pop.
“Yeah. I feel a comeback of the insomnia,” Gerard joked.
Mikey didn't find it funny. Not even a little bit, Gerard could read it on his face. “Shower and then coffee?” he asked.
Gerard made a face. “I'll get the coffee, you can take the first shower.”
“You need it more,” Mikey answered, but there was no heat behind his words. Mikey thought that showering was a waste of time if you didn't have much of it. Thing was, they did have enough time. They were on a break. They could do whatever they wanted.
“I'll take a quick one when I have coffee in my system, Mikes. I am awake way too long - I don't even know how I function.”
Mikey rolled his eyes, but stripped his shirt on threw it in the direction of their bags. “Fine. We need to do laundry.”
“Okay,” Gerard said and left the room before Mikey could start on how Pete had a washing machine. Gerard was sure that Pete had one. Hell, he had one too. Back at the apartment where he didn't live enough days in the year to call it home. Where no one waited for him. Sometimes he thought it's a fancy and way too expensive canvas storage room. Still cheaper than buying a house or renting something in L. fucking A. he thought.
He got coffee from a diner nearby and when he came back Mikey was toweling his hair with one hand and talking to someone on the phone with the other. He abandoned the towel for the cup of hot fresh coffee when Gerard handed it over.
Gerard raised an eyebrow in question. Mikey mouthed 'Pete'. Of course.
~5~
They had scored another gig in Los Angeles two days later for actual cash. Steve was feeling pleased with himself and Ghost was okay with staying a bit longer too. They could go sightseeing and try to find a place to stay, because their room was already rented out to someone else.
“You could try to work some of your magic,” Steve joked.
Ghost tilted his head up so he could soak up the sun and didn't tell Steve that it just didn't work like that. Steve's hand brushed his and he intertwined their fingers on the warm surface of the bench they were sitting on. When he concentrated he could hear the ocean. Maybe it was in his head, but it sounded awfully real. He squeezed Steve's fingers. “It'll turn out alright,” Steve said softly. There was a 'this time' unspoken there, but Ghost heard it anyway. Sometimes they didn't need the words.
Ghost really wanted to believe him.
~+~
Gerard was still on the fence about staying at Pete's.
“It's just that there is so much in my head,” he said and Mikey nodded, because he knew how that felt.
“We don't have to, you know.”
“I know, but you can. We don't have to share every minute of every day with each other. There was a time I was able to live without you, you know?” Gerard asked teasingly.
Mikey rolled his eyes and pressed closer to Gerard, so they touched from shoulder to knee. “That's because you didn't know what you were missing. And you didn't really live anyway before I was born.”
It was kind of true, was the thing. The first clear memories he had were about mom being pregnant and Mikey kicking in her belly and them singing him something. Sometimes mom played the piano and Helena sang. Sometimes Gerard was allowed to paint shapes and stick figures on her stretched skin with Nivea as she was reading on the couch. The windows wide open to let the summer air in. Real life began after Mikey was born. When Gerard could hold his hand and play with his fingers. Wondering about the tiny feet and toes and how delicate they looked and pink. Helena sketching them for Gerard so he could pin them over his bed as a reminder that he wasn't alone anymore.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“I would stay with you at a hotel,” Mikey said.
Gerard closed his eyes and just felt his brother's warmth against his own skin where their bodies touched without the barrier of clothes. “You don't have to. I'll be alright on my own. You'll be alright on your own.”
“We will be,” Mikey said, grabbing for Gerard's hand and squeezing his fingers for a second or thirty. Gerard wasn't counting and time became something else when he was with Mikey anyway.
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