This is an updated version of the story, edited so that things make more sense, and that it flows better.

This is a Black Veil Brides crossover. So far, Gerard is the only one who shows up, but maybe if I take this further, then the rest of the guys are going to show up? I own pretty much nothing but the plotline...


"Can't go on like this..." Ashley muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. It'd been a month. A month since he could claim that his precious Andy belonged to him. Against his will, tears started to well up in his eyes. "Not again, dammit." Trying to think of happy memories only brought him further down. The happiest ones he had, ironically, were full of Andy.

Then, like a dam breaking, the tears started, falling one by one. Within moments, they were a continuous stream, and his breaths were coming out in short, painful gasps. "Why did you leave?" he yelled, to no one in particular. The sound reverberated around the tiny bathroom. Then Gerard, the voice he'd been hearing in his head since a little Andy left, piped up. "You know exactly why."

"I was fucking trying to stop!" Ashley screamed in response, shoving the hair out of his face, where it clung stubbornly to his cheeks with tears darkened by makeup. "We've been over this before." Gerard let out a sigh, like punctuation at the end of the sentence.

"But I can't fucking fix it. He fucking said that he hates me..." Just saying it made it all too real. Ashley pulled his knees against his chest, rocking back and forth, shaking from the sobs.

"So? You know that he's fucking bipolar at best."

"He called me a crazy, obsessive stalker!"

"What?"

"Yeah..."

There was silence for a minute, before Ashley continued, "You know Gerard, I can't go on like this."

"What?" As much as a disembodied voice can be shocked, Gerard was apparently shocked into disbelief. "You heard me." Ashley retorted, getting up and walking out of the bathroom abruptly. Gerard was now starting to hope that things were going to get better.

From the bathroom, the Outlaw walked into his bedroom, where, on his desk, there was a box made of seashells. Inside of it was every single song or poem that Andy had ever written for him. He yanked them out, letting them spill onto his desk haphazardly. Below it lay a razor, still brand new in the cardboard wrapper.

"Ashley?" Gerard asked, unsure. He went ignored, as the deadly weapon was slipped into a pocket, and the young man walked out the door.

"Just forget about it! What about that phrase that you're always saying? Never give in!" Gerard piped up, trying to offer advice like he always did.

"Shut up Gerard."

The few blocks between Ashley's house and Andy's house was quickly walked, Gerard pleading with him the whole way, to forget about it, to turn back. He even went as far as telling Ashley that he had left the oven on. Nothing worked, and the voice was ignored.

Walking up the driveway to Andy's house, a rare smile crossed Ashley's features. He hadn't smiled in over a month. The movement felt unusual after so long, and he was more than willing to bet it looked more like a grimace than an actual smile.

Instead of knocking on the front door, he circled around to the back of the house. He saw the door that he knew lead into Andy's room. His twisted grin unfaltering, he reached into his pocket, taking out his weapon. He ripped off the cardboard. His blood was pounding in his ears, and he could hear Gerard screaming in his head, "No! Don't do it! Drop it!"

"It'll all be over soon." Ashley whispered. Inside the room, he could hear the sound of a television. No doubt that Andy was in there. He rolled up his sleeves. His left arm was littered with scars, from wrist to elbow. He choked back a sob, remembering one day how Andy had told him how much it broke his heart to see them. In fact, that was the only reason that he'd ever wanted to stop, knowing that if he kept doing it, he kept breaking Andy's heart.

Shaking the thought, along with tears, away from his eyes, he lifted the blade over his arm. A silver flash, before the blinding pain. His right arm was slit along the vein, from the wrist, to the crook of his arm. He could feel it burning, and it took everything in him to keep from doubling up and falling to the floor, clutching the arm against him and screaming out in pain. Looking down, he could see the pure white flesh. Then, there was blood.

It came in a sudden gush, hot and bright red, cascading down his arm in rivulets, some of it dripping onto his jeans and shoes. Nearly perfectly rounded drops stained the concrete. The unimaginable pain came every time he tried to move his fingers. "You can still turn back!" Gerard pleaded with him.

"No, I can't." With that, Ashley stepped forward, knocking on the door with his left hand. Hearing someone move inside, coming towards the door, he grabbed the blade in his right hand, trying not to scream in pain. As the lock clicked in preparation for the door to open, he dug the blade into his left arm, mirroring the damage on his right. This time, it was even worse.

The moment the cut was made, his fingers left the slick blade fall as the door opened. In the silence, the steel made a loud clink on the ground.

"What the fuck do you want?" Andy snarled.

"I'm sorry, Andy."

"I don't fucking care, go take your cry for attention to someone else who actually gives a fuck." The taller of the two spat, before slamming the door shut. Or at least, he tried to. Ashley's foot was blocking the path of the door. "Move your foot before I break it."

"It doesn't matter, I'm already dying."

"What?"

Ashley only lifted his arms, an apologetic smile twitching across his face. Then, the last of his strength left him, and he pitched forward.

Andy had been staring in shock, but seeing the other man start to fall, he reacted in time to catch him before he hit the ground. Their eyes met for just a moment.

"I still love you." Then, brown eyes slid closed, for the last time. Those were his final words to Andy, and the last he would ever say in the world of the living.

"Come on, wake up." Andy muttered.

There was no response.

"Ashley?" Andy asked, shaking him slightly, worried. His head just rolled limply. "No...come on... wake up..." Andy said, shaking him vigorously. It was like shaking a rag doll. The other man wasn't breathing. It was then that Andy realized how much blood there was, covering them both. There was no way that Ashley could've survived.

"NO!"

He clung to Ashley's corpse, as if trying to restore him to life. "I'm fucking sorry." he whispered. The tears began to fall, taking Andy's mascara down with them. Andy fell to his knees, taking the corpse with him. He wiped a tear away from Ashley's cheek, leaving a thin train of blood. Holding back sobs, he held up his dead lover's face, and pressed a final kiss to his slowly cooling lips. His fingers left 3 semi-even streaks, on both sides of his face, running from his cheeks, down his neck. It'd be a sight that would haunt his every waking moment, and his dreams, too.

His precious Ashley, dead, bloodless, streaks of his own blood on his face, and on Andy's hands.

Notes