"When you'd cry, I'd wipe away all of your tears,
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears.
And I held your hand through all of these years,
But you still have all of me."
My Immortal - Evanescence We all crammed into the backseat of the car, and to my surprise, Ashley didn’t groan in protest when he had to sit beside me. It makes me hopeful that our chat this morning was our first, awkward baby step towards being friends.

“Ash, I think once all this rain dries up, I’m going to take you out and teach you to drive.” My Dad says once we’re stopped at the intersection where Andy crashed. I look out the window at the hauntingly familiar scene.

“Okay,” I agreed, “I’d like to get my license soon.”

I caught his cheerful brown eyes in the rearview mirror and returned a genuine smile.

No matter what was going on around me, my mind kept going back to the night prior. So much had happened, and there was a lot of information for me to sort through. First, what happened to Jinxx, Jake and CC? They were so certainly fighting with Ashley for details, and then suddenly their minds are blank and they can’t remember anything that happened fifteen minutes prior.

Second, Andy’s almost murder scene. It’s a grizzly spot in my memory, and it has it’s own place in the part of my mind titled nightmares. It terrifies me, and gives me chills that Andy, the cheerful ray of shining sunlight beside me now, had ever once done something like that. He once hated everything about himself enough that he wanted to exterminate himself, and give the bullies what they wanted just so no one else was punished with his existence.

I peek over at him now, and his blue eyes are tired, circled in a thick ring of eyeliner, yet those eerily glowing orbs still held the essence of joy. He doesn’t seem to be thinking about the same things as me.

Thinking about him feels awkward with Ashley sitting to my immediate right, arms crossed tightly across a bare chest he rarely bothered himself with covering. I took the opportunity to peek over at his hand, searching for the tattoos, but to my dismay, they were both covered in heavy leather biker gloves. I wonder if Andy has also noticed that detail? I don’t remember physically seeing any ink adorning his fingers, has Andy possibly noticed?

We pulled up into the church parking lot, and out of curiosity, I looked across the street, trying to see Jinxx’s house. I saw what I assumed was his home, directly across the street. It had a small front porch, two story, and was a tiny vintage. It looked like it’d seen many repainting sessions, each time a new color. It was currently sporting a murky mint green. I wondered idly if Jinxx had painted it that color himself.

Climbing out, the cold, damp wind hit my face immediately, making me shiver. I pull my jacket tighter around my arms, and walked briskly to the front doors of the chapel. We were one of the first few to arrive.

Dad held the door open for me and mom, and unknowingly, two other ghosts. We slipped inside, and hesitated by the door. I looked around the room and spotted Pastor Davis, speaking with a tall middle aged man. After a second glance, I recognized him as Andy’s Dad, Chris.

I wanted to leave the poor man to his privacy, but he was standing just close enough for me to overhear. I could walk away, but then it’d be obvious to my parents that something was wrong, since I have no physical reason to move further away.

“And how have you been feeling? Since the loss of your son, Andrew.” Father Davis inquired in his soft, kind voice. Chris looked like he hadn’t slept in a while, dark purple circles ringing under his eyes, making him look like he was surviving solely on caffine, sleeping pills and the support of those around him.

“Honestly, it’s been difficult... Harder than I ever would have imagined.” He frowned, “Andy was our only son, so full of life and potential... It just feels impossible to imagine him gone for good.”

“He has found his place with the Lord, I promise you.” Father Davis placed a hand firmly on Chris’s shoulder. I didn’t think Andy’s parents were religious before.

Andy seemingly read my mind, by saying “Damn... Mom and Dad never went to church, they never had a religion... Is this what loss does to someone?”

“Looks like to me poor Chris just wants something to believe in.” Ashley spoke up to my surprise. His eyes weren’t filled with hate or malice like in the past, instead they were soft and sympathetic.

Andy’s mood darkened, like a cloud had just settled above him and was taking a royal piss on his hunched shoulders. He looked down at the navy blue commercial carpet, eyes dull and regretful again. Pain was becoming one of his newest moods.

I reached for his arm a little, but he tugged it away. I wasn’t hurt by actions, just surprised. I dropped my arms back to my sides, and redirected my attention elsewhere, anywhere else but Chris.

We went to take a seat, sitting in the back pews. I crossed my knees, and stared straight ahead, pretending to be studying the big cross up on the stage behind the podium, but really, I was watching Andy carefully. No matter what turns our relationship took, I would always love him dearly and protect him like family.

He seemed to curl into himself as the minutes passed, eyes growing more and more distant until he looked like he was physically in pain.

“Is he okay?” I whisper to Ashley, nudging him a little. He leaned back to see what I meant, and narrowed his eyes in concern when he saw Andy’s torn expression, clutched fists, and eyes staring ahead at seemingly nothing.

“I’m not sure.” He admitted, getting up to move down to sit on Andy’s other side, leaning in front of him, trying to get his attention by speaking to him and making contact. Andy looked at him, but didn’t respond. Ashley hugged him tightly, and he didn’t return the gesture. He sat there stiffly, accepting what was happening to him.

“C’mon, man, you’re okay.” Ashley assured him again, only gaining a swift shake of the head from Andy.

“I’m not.” He disagreed stubbornly. “I did this. I drug my parents through fucking hell before I died, they didn’t deserve this, no one does.”

“No, you’re right. But you can’t blame yourself for everything. It’s not going to change anything, and it’ll only make you feel worse.”

Andy snorted, narrowing his eyes at him. “Ever since you got back, you’ve been an angry mess, and now you’re telling me that it’s not going to fix anything? Go fuck yourself, Ashley.”

To my surprise, Ashley didn’t get huffy and walk out. He sighed, regained his composure, and tried again.

It’s difficult to watch a scene like this unfolding with an adequate amount of concern without scaring those around you. It kills me to pull my gaze away and stare straight ahead.

I hear Andy curse at Ashley, and he abruptly stands, which wrenches my gaze away from whatever I was pretending to stare at to look at him. He’s running his fingers through his hair, and his eyes are wide, and terrified.

“Andy...” I whisper to him, but he won’t look at me now. He’s lost in his own head, and it’s scaring me. “Ashley, what’s wrong with him?” I whisper, but Ashley won’t respond. He’s standing in front of Andy, trying to convince him to follow him elsewhere.

“Ash, make an excuse, meet me in the hall.” Ashley shouts over his shoulder, firmly tugging a terror stricken Andy through the rows of seats.

“Uh...” I hesitated, wrecking my mind for a good excuse that could give me a few minutes of freedom to work with. “I’m not feeling well. I’ll be back.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” My Mom asked, worried.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be right back.” I promise, getting up and squeezing past them, and moving as swiftly and calmly as I can towards the bathroom. Once I’m out of sight of the arriving guests, I make a mad dash down the hallway, shouting for Andy and Ashley in a hushed voice.

“Over here!” Ashley shouts, and I look up to see him standing by the back exit door, it’s cracked open a bit. As I get closer, I notice Andy crouched by his feet, head in his hands, the wind gently tossing his hair.

“Is he okay?”

“Panic attack, I think.” Ashley explained with a frown, “fuck, being dead doesn’t take away half the crap you had to deal with when you were alive.” He sighs, then crouches beside Andy, and gives his shoulder a squeeze. “How are you doing, bud?”

I’m taken back by the sudden kind, gentle nature of Ashley. He hadn’t been like this ever since I’d met him... Which is starting to make me feel like I heavily misjudged him.

“I’m fine.” Andy mumbled, his voice low and hesitant. I hang back, part of me wanted to run up and hug him, the other half wanted to give him some space to handle his problems. Sometimes having someone hanging all over you is the opposite of helpful.

“Okay.” I reply quietly, hesitating a few steps back, feeling unsure of what to do next. “Do you want a hug?...”

He was quiet while he thought.

“...Yes.” He pouted a little, forcing a small, sympathetic smile out of me.

I approached him and sat behind him, securing him around the ribs tightly, hugging his arms and resting my face against his shoulder blade.

“I don’t have anything to say.” I admit, “I wish I had something profound to say, but I don’t.”

He reaches up and pats my hand resting on his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay.” He whispers.

I look up at Ashley, and he’s concerned. He stands leaning against the wall by the door, arms crossed across his chest and his face unreadable.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Kind of.” He shrugs, “Just feels like everything is piling up, and I have no means to fight back. All I can do is sit here and take what comes. I can’t tell you how many times I wish I’d moved on.”

My heart tightens with a sting of shock and pain. I hide the betrayal from my expression and force his words out of my head before I can overthink them.

He doesn’t amend his sentence, he just leaves it like that, and I accept it reluctantly. There are some things our relationship and a few jokes can’t fix, and there’s still things about him that are very private. I can respect his secrets, however, if he’d share a little more about his past, I think I could help him better.

“I have to get back.” I whisper after another moment passes wordlessly, “or my Mom will come looking for me. Come back if you’re feeling better, and if not, I’ll find you after. Feel better, love.” I pull away from him, look at his face, and peck him on the cheek before getting up and leaving.

I feel the icy chill spreading across my lips even as I sit back down at the now crowded pew with my parents. The room is dimly lit by candles, which add a nice effect to the worship feel of the chapel. Everyone’s heads are already bowed in a prayer led by Father Davis as I sit down. Luckily, I’m not the only one up and about, there’s a mother with two crying children making a bee-line for the exit, her face flushed red in embarrassment from whatever outburst had come prior to my return.

I sit down, quickly bow my head, and join in on a familiar prayer, meanwhile silently praying for Andy.

Notes

I went to Colorado yesterday for Mothers Day, and wrote three more chapters on the way, intending to update when I got home, however, the power went out a half hour after I got back and was out until this morning.

Also, the night before I left, I streamed Halsey's 'Badlands' album in it's entirety, thinking I wouldn't like it much, and OH MY GOD I WAS WRONG. It's so good! And I noticed a few lyrics that matched up awesomely to this story, so I'll be using those as fuel to write. Lyrics like "California never felt like home to me until I had you on the open road." really stuck out to me haha. Okay, weird ramble over.

And do not fear! This story as a nice, long life ahead of it. :)

Shoutouts!

- Cannible Cat
- Batsy's Robin