Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's a quiet autumn day and the light from the single high window is muted, cold and colorless. Gee sits on the edge of his rickety desk, feet dangling, and stares at the body in his bed, his body.

It's the dumbest thing he's ever done.

He'd been exhausted, too many sleepless nights watching the shadows on the ceiling, too many fears and doubts circling in his head, a slow spiral of uselessness and depression that was swallowing him whole.

All he'd wanted was some sleep; they were scheduled to leave for Japan in a few days and Gee just wanted to sleep before throwing himself into the whirlwind of touring for the new album.

Gee'd washed the pills down with vodka, something he knew he wasn't supposed do. The bottle had been closest, though, and he'd just been too fucking tired to get up and find something else.

Too stupid for words.

He swings his legs idly and smokes another cigarette, watching his body and wondering why he doesn't feel anything.

The next few days are a blur, dark strangers traipsing in and out of his basement. They sift through the messy detritus of his life, looking through his sketchbooks, reading the words scribbled onto the backs of envelopes. All of his hopes, his dreams.

He thinks he should feel naked, exposed, having strangers rifle through his belongings, leaving behind invisible fingerprints. So young, someone murmurs. There's a distant sense of twisting shame in his belly, but he shrugs it away.

Gee sees Mikey, a flash of his pale face as Mikey tries to push his way into the basement, calling out Gee's name. The dark strangers keep Mikey out, speak to him in whispers, and lead him back upstairs.

He sits on his desk and watches his mom shuffle through his closet, dig through the mounds of clothes on the floor until she finds his second best pair of slacks, the suit jacket he'd found at a thrift store in L.A., and a tie he'd stolen from Frank. She adds his favorite Iron Maiden shirt to the pile before breaking down, sitting on the edge of his bed and holding his clothes to her cheek. "Oh, Gee," she says, her voice cracking. Her face looks vulnerable without the usual layers of makeup and Gee thinks she looks beautiful.

Gee wants to curl up in her arms and let her hold him, press kisses to his hair and promise him that everything will be all right.

Nothing is ever going to be all right again.

He watches her and smokes cigarettes. And waits.

Gee feels a pull, pushing away the strange inertia that's plagued him since he woke, and he climbs up the stairs to the main part of the house. It's so silent that he can hear the big grandfather clock ticking in the hallway.

The Ways are a typical Jersey family and the house is usually filled with family and friends, loud and raucous. The kitchen is the heart of their home and right now, it's quiet. It sends a chill down Gee's back.

The last time it was like this was when Elena died.

The realization is blinding. "Oh," he sighs.

Gee drifts for a while, and when he notices his surroundings again, he's at the cemetery. It's drizzling and cold, perfectly choreographed weather for his funeral. He couldn't have planned it better if he'd tried.

He sees the crowd gathered around the grave; his eyes pick out Frank, Ray, Otter, huddled together. Ray has his arm slung around Frank, holding him close. Frank's shoulders are hunched miserably and he's tight against Ray's side.

"He's gonna get sick," Gee mutters to himself. He wants to move closer, but he doesn't think he can bear not being able to touch, to feel their warmth. He's so cold now.

The three of them are drenched and unhappy; Otter looks uncomfortable and lost, like he's not sure he really belongs here, among friends and family. Gee wonders how much longer they would have lasted with Otter's obvious discontent.

He sees Mikey and winces. Gee's pretty sure he's been sedated, from the way he's leaning heavily against their dad. He's staring sightless at the grave, and Gee wishes that he could undo everything that's happened. "I'm sorry," he says, the words sharp and unforgiving in his mouth. "So fucking sorry."

"Gee."

He turns in surprise. "Grandma?"

"Hey, kiddo." Elena looks exactly the way he remembers, wide smile and beautiful eyes. "Who else were you expecting?"

"I. . .no one, I guess."

She holds out her hand and jerks her head. "Time to hit the road, Gee, unless you've got something better to do."

"Do I have a choice?" he asks bitterly.

She looks at him. "Of course you do. You can choose to stay here and haunt your friends and family, watching them move on with their lives without you." She shrugs. "I don't recommend it as a lifestyle choice, but it's your call."

Gee chokes on a snort of laughter.

"Oh, Gee," Elena says, wrapping her arms around him in a hard hug.

He leans against her like he did when he was a kid, grateful that he can feel her. The numbness surrounding him starts to fade away, like mist in the morning. Gee leans down and presses his face into her neck, breath catching on a sob. "Grandma—"

She rubs circles on his back, the way she's always comforted him. "Let's go, Gee."

"Okay." He wipes at his eyes and looks back at Mikey, his hand instinctively lifting in a wave.

Mikey's eyes sharpen and he looks surprised.

Gee catches his breath. Mikey sees him. "I'm sorry," he says, and somehow Mikey can hear him. "I love you."

Mikey stares at him for a long, long time, expressionless. Gee can tell he's pissed off at what Gee's done, that he's trying to find it in him to forgive Gee for what he's done.

In the end, Mikey just shrugs. "Love you, too," he mouths, and relief makes Gee's knees wobble for just a second before Elena tugs on his hand and leads him away.

-fin-