brittany its really good chris/guy love aawwww x

the way its formated or whatever its kinda confusing sorry lol

lol thanks

I Will Try To Fix You is AMAZING!!

Sometimes the site makes stuff weird. If you're copying the story from Word (like I do), just add two spaces in between paragraphs.

OMG :sweatdrop:

 

 

OMG :stunned::dead:

 

Finally some slashyness!!! WOAH Amy your writing is not bad at all, it maybe be a bit simple, but hell, Prettyboy just cracks me up, LOL :lol:

 

I'm sorry the next chapter of my story takes so long, but recently I feel like shit (which is oftentimes an incentive for me to write something depressing lol :uhoh:) but this time I have trouble with writing. So Kyra, please be a little more patient and don't kill me :uhoh2:

 

:smug::smug::lol:

 

thanks Thalia and Kyra;)yeah its simple but oh well:D

 

yaay you're going to post your next chapter soon:D:D

@Juliana-:stunned::bigcry:

 

you're a great writer!!!!:hug:oh wow poor Guy

:sweatdrop:at the end:heart:

 

:bomb:waiting patiently for next chapter:wideeyed:

@ Kyra lol I will remember that :D

Some Kind of Ghost I dont know why I am calling it that but....W/e I like the song lol

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Guy’s PoV

 

I woke with a start. I sat up gasping for breath and I could feel cold sweat run down my neck. Oh no, not again! I thought. I fall back on my pillow with a groan, and roll onto my side. Damn these dreams, why does this keep happening? I thought I was over this, over him! I felt like crying, in a way. The dreams weren’t sad, far from it, but the way the dreams made me feel, complete, happy and wanted. That made me sad. Because I knew the feelings that I had for Chris would never be returned.

All I wanted was sleep, and dreams free from Chris. I worked very hard to keep my feelings for him a secret, and I kept them buried deep down inside me for a very long time. I honestly do not remember when feelings for Chris emerged. I just remember that one day he grabbed my face and kissed me on the forehead, like he does with Jonny and Will and my heart thumped hard in my chest and I wished he would never let go. I now try to shy away from his touch, but sometimes I catch myself smiling or laughing when he invades my space. I watch the way it is when he hugs and kisses Jonny and sometimes Will and my heart aches with jealousy. It seems so easy, effortless. There are no signs of a struggle to hide emotions. Just my band mates joking and laughing. Happy. I lay there pitying myself when I am startled by my phone ringing. I check the caller ID: Chris. Great, just what I need. I thought. I answered.

“Hello?” I said, my voice heavy with lack of sleep.

“Guy? Where are you? Get the fuck down here, we need to set up and practice for tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay I am coming! Shit.” My voice cracked at the last word.

Chris chuckled. “Hurry.” He said and hung up. I set down my phone and quickly got dressed. I paused confused. Shit, I don’t remember where I am supposed to meet them. God Dammit.

 

Hoooray for another wonderfully written Chris&Guy fanfic! :dance:

 

I think I'm going to die of slashy-fangirl-ism if you guys keep posting like that! :uhoh: :lol:

 

Maaaaaaybe. :D

 

OOOooooohhh... KAY hmm let me think! :D:thinking:

i love these slashy fics lol :P x

I normally like Chris/Jonny love but I really am liking on Guy right now lol

:lol:^^^^^

 

@Brittany::sweatdrop::stunned:told you you'd do great!!!!I love it cant wait for the nex t chapter!!!!:heart::heart:it!!!!!wowow its good though short:lol::dance:

Brittany, Some Kind of Ghost is awesome! See? You have to write more, it's really good and yeah the spaces disappear when I paste my texts in here.

 

Waiting for more chapters now;)

:lol:^^^^^

 

@Brittany::sweatdrop::stunned:told you you'd do great!!!!I love it cant wait for the nex t chapter!!!!

 

Lol thanks. i am working on the next chapter. but i dont really know where the story is going to go lol.

:dance:

L I B E R A T I O N

CHAPTER 7

 

I think this is my favorite chapter.

 

 

 

Three weeks later, we did get together. Will and Marianne brought a ton of old movies, and Chris brought the sweets. I just brought myself, but I figured it was good enough. Apart from us, Jonny’s brother (whom I didn’t know too well) was there. Chloe put Violet to bed early and offered to get some beer for the rest of us, but Jonny half-jokingly told her not to bother. If he couldn’t drink, neither could we.

 

Normally, I liked to have fun at get-togethers, but tonight was different. I sat on the couch towards the window, refusing to engage anyone. Will tried sitting with me for a while, but I wasn’t in good enough humor to take up his offers at conversation. I just felt horrible. I felt horrible for being there, I felt horrible for being invited, and I felt horrible for the fact that Jonny was still limping. They said it might go away completely, but on the other hand, they said it might stick with him forever. His bruises hadn’t gone away either. Mine were mostly faded reminders of the night of the accident, but his were more blatant.

 

Every time I saw them, I was reminded of when I thought I’d never talk to him again. When I thought I’d killed him. I felt as if I might lose him again, and the thought terrified me. For the first time, I’d experienced just how fleeting and delicate life was...how easy it was to lose a friend. Sure, I’d been to funerals before, but they’d always been relatives whom I hadn’t known so well. But Jonny...he was one of my closest friends; the one I shared my personal problems with. He was the one who was always there to hold my head above the violent waters.

 

“What’s wrong, sad sack?” asked Jonny, hobbling over to sit on the edge of the couch. My chest tightened, and I focused on the sound of Marianne and Chloe laughing with each other in the adjoining room.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You’ve been sitting here the whole night, Guy.” I looked up at him slowly.

 

“I’m just tired.”

 

“Are your ribs bothering you still? You’re so fucking pale...”

 

“No. No, I’m okay.” I insisted, waving a hand dismissively. “What about you?”

 

“Ah...I’m alright.” he said, shrugging. “Then again, some stuff still hurts. But hey, at least I can still play.” He strummed a few notes on an invisible guitar. “We’ll be touring again in no time.”

 

“Don’t rush it.” I reminded, picking up a can of Pepsi from the table. I looked at it and shook my head. “What’s with this, man? Pepsi? You know I only drink Coke.”

 

“What,” said Jonny, waggling his eyebrows. “Has snorting it gone out of fashion?” he finished, cracking himself up. I laughed despite myself.

 

“Oh, Jon!” called Chris suddenly from the kitchen. “Come ’ere, man, I need help.”

 

“If it has to do with the stove, you’d better call Will. He’s the cook.” Jonny looked at the drummer, who shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll be right there.”

 

I offered my arm to help him, but Jonny shook his head and made his way to the kitchen himself. Chloe and Marianne had drifted out from the other room, and were now sorting through the movies Marianne had brought. I waited a few minutes, watching the ladies discussing their favorite ‘chick flicks’ and the most handsome actors in them. Will and Jon’s brother shared a look of mild disgust, but I couldn’t really be bothered.

 

Finally, I decided to check out what was going on in the kitchen. I strolled across the floor and down the short hall to its doorway. But as I got a glance through the door, I panicked and pressed myself against the wall. Chris and Jonny were talking, but not in the way they normally would. Chris looked shaky and upset, and Jonny’s arms were crossed in what looked like frustration. Their mouths moved quickly, but their voices were muted so I hadn’t understood what they were saying. I did notice, however, that Jonny had been leaning against the counter to keep himself steady.

 

I, of course, headed straight back into the living room. I didn’t want to know what they’d been doing, and I told myself I didn’t care. Somehow, though, I knew it had to do with the crash. What else could make them look so downcast and anxious? I sat back in my spot, and jumped slightly as I realized Marianne was trying to ask me something.

 

“Guy!” she laughed. “Which do you prefer; Bridget Jones’ Diary or Sweet Home Alabama?”

 

“Uh...I dunno.” I muttered. “I’ve never seen the first.”

 

The rest of the evening passed slowly. Once more I was distracted by my longtime friend; suffocating guilt. Jonny and Chris eventually rejoined us, and they seemed to be back to normal. Whatever normal was. We ate on and off for two hours or so, watching football on the television because the women couldn’t agree on a movie. Eventually, the atmosphere began to dwindle and Jonny’s brother left. Will and Marianne headed out an hour later. Chloe fell asleep on the couch, so I moved myself to sit in the kitchen. Chris insisted on sleeping over, so he was invading the shower upstairs. Jonny sat on the couch next to his wife, watching a late night special on World War I.

 

I picked at a bowl of ice cream, listening to the muted sounds of airplanes and machine guns. Eventually, the noise of the TV stopped altogether and I heard Jonny shuffling down the hallway in my direction. I kept my eyes locked on the quickly melting ice cream as he entered the room. “Are you planning on leaving, or do you want to stay?” he asked.

 

I grinned a little, still not looking up. “You wanna get rid of me?”

 

“No! No, of course not. I’m just wondering. You’ve been so...detached. What’s wrong?” he pressed, leaning across the table to look at me. I shook my head, licking some of my dessert off the spoon.

 

“I’m fine. And if you want, I’ll leave soon.”

 

“No.” He sounded tired, and not willing to put up with my foul mood. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked again, frowning. “Tell me your problems.”

 

“My problems? I nearly killed you.” I snapped, chuckling bitterly. “I could’ve...I...” My smile faltered painfully. I felt my throat tightening dangerously, and I finally looked up to see Jonny’s horrified expression. I pushed the bowl away and crossed my arms protectively around my chest. “Jon, I’m sorry.”

 

“Please, don’t...”

 

“I should’ve paid better attention to the road, but...” I was beginning to ramble.

 

“It wasn’t...”

 

“It’s my fault you’re like this, whatever pain you’re in is my fault!”

 

“No it’s not.” he corrected firmly. “They told me that you saved that girl. Would you rather she had died instead?” I shook my head wordlessly. “Answer me, Guy.”

 

“No.”

 

“Look at me.” he commanded, his voice thick. I shook my head and glanced away, trembling. “Come on...” He took my head firmly in his hands, forced me to face him, and his features twisted in pain. “Oh, god...Look at you.” he mused aloud, probably noticing the dark circles under my eyes. “When was the last time you’ve slept?”

 

“What about you?” I asked, my vision starting to blur. “When was the last time you’ve slept?”

 

He swallowed. “It’s hard.”

 

“Why?”

 

“The pain.”

 

I nodded. “My fault.”

 

Jonny shook his head again. “We were in there together.” he whispered, his hold tightening. “I could have seen her sooner, but I didn’t. She could’ve looked before she crossed the street, but she didn’t. That doesn’t make it your fault.”

 

For the first time, I began to believe him. “I don’t know what I would’ve done...if you’d...” My voice cracked and I had to stop speaking. To my distress, Jonny’s shoulders shook slightly as he breathed, and a tear spilled over from his eye.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I thought you were getting through this...I thought you were okay.” I shook my head and pulled away from him, running a hand forcefully through my hair. I hadn’t meant to upset my friend, and I wished I could’ve kept my mouth shut about the fucking crash. But then, slowly, Jonny pulled me forward and hugged me tightly. He was trembling, and I could hear the tears behind his uneven breathing. “I’m so sorry, Guy...”

 

My face twisted with emotion as he held me, but it wasn’t caused by his embrace. He had simply told me the things I’d been waiting to hear from him; the things he needed to reinforce in order for me to start releasing some of the burden I carried. Gradually, I buried myself into him, drinking in his familiar scent. He was alive, and he wasn’t going to leave. He wasn’t blaming me, and he didn’t hate me.

 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I whispered, a few tears dripping to my chin. He pressed his cheek against my hair, rubbing my back gently.

 

“Same here.”

 

A minute or two later, he made a small noise of discomfort, and I pulled quickly away. I could tell I was beginning to hurt him. He looked evenly back at me, deeply apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re in pain.”

 

“I’m sorry.” he repeated helplessly.

 

I shook my head and took his hand in mine, as if we were kids sealing a deal. “It’s not your fault.” I echoed, my voice a bit stronger. “Just tell me where the medication is.”

 

“The cabinet. No... the one to your left.” he admitted. I got up stiffly and rummaged through the things in the cupboard, feeling intrusive. Eventually, I managed to fish out the pills and I wiped my eyes on my sleeve before I turned around. I tossed them to him, and then got a bottle of water from the fridge. “Thank you.”

 

I paused, watching him carefully count out two pills. “You’re welcome.”

 

 

awwwwwww i love liberation it so sweet

your a really good writer when the chapters are done

u should put it as a book sorta thingy :P really gd xx

aww kyra!!! so sweet, and so well written!! keep up the great work!!! :clap:!!

L I B E R A T I O N

CHAPTER 7

 

I think this is my favorite chapter.

 

 

 

Three weeks later, we did get together. Will and Marianne brought a ton of old movies, and Chris brought the sweets. I just brought myself, but I figured it was good enough. Apart from us, Jonny’s brother (whom I didn’t know too well) was there. Chloe put Violet to bed early and offered to get some beer for the rest of us, but Jonny half-jokingly told her not to bother. If he couldn’t drink, neither could we.

 

Normally, I liked to have fun at get-togethers, but tonight was different. I sat on the couch towards the window, refusing to engage anyone. Will tried sitting with me for a while, but I wasn’t in good enough humor to take up his offers at conversation. I just felt horrible. I felt horrible for being there, I felt horrible for being invited, and I felt horrible for the fact that Jonny was still limping. They said it might go away completely, but on the other hand, they said it might stick with him forever. His bruises hadn’t gone away either. Mine were mostly faded reminders of the night of the accident, but his were more blatant.

 

Every time I saw them, I was reminded of when I thought I’d never talk to him again. When I thought I’d killed him. I felt as if I might lose him again, and the thought terrified me. For the first time, I’d experienced just how fleeting and delicate life was...how easy it was to lose a friend. Sure, I’d been to funerals before, but they’d always been relatives whom I hadn’t known so well. But Jonny...he was one of my closest friends; the one I shared my personal problems with. He was the one who was always there to hold my head above the violent waters.

 

“What’s wrong, sad sack?” asked Jonny, hobbling over to sit on the edge of the couch. My chest tightened, and I focused on the sound of Marianne and Chloe laughing with each other in the adjoining room.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You’ve been sitting here the whole night, Guy.” I looked up at him slowly.

 

“I’m just tired.”

 

“Are your ribs bothering you still? You’re so fucking pale...”

 

“No. No, I’m okay.” I insisted, waving a hand dismissively. “What about you?”

 

“Ah...I’m alright.” he said, shrugging. “Then again, some stuff still hurts. But hey, at least I can still play.” He strummed a few notes on an invisible guitar. “We’ll be touring again in no time.”

 

“Don’t rush it.” I reminded, picking up a can of Pepsi from the table. I looked at it and shook my head. “What’s with this, man? Pepsi? You know I only drink Coke.”

 

“What,” said Jonny, waggling his eyebrows. “Has snorting it gone out of fashion?” he finished, cracking himself up. I laughed despite myself.

 

“Oh, Jon!” called Chris suddenly from the kitchen. “Come ’ere, man, I need help.”

 

“If it has to do with the stove, you’d better call Will. He’s the cook.” Jonny looked at the drummer, who shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll be right there.”

 

I offered my arm to help him, but Jonny shook his head and made his way to the kitchen himself. Chloe and Marianne had drifted out from the other room, and were now sorting through the movies Marianne had brought. I waited a few minutes, watching the ladies discussing their favorite ‘chick flicks’ and the most handsome actors in them. Will and Jon’s brother shared a look of mild disgust, but I couldn’t really be bothered.

 

Finally, I decided to check out what was going on in the kitchen. I strolled across the floor and down the short hall to its doorway. But as I got a glance through the door, I panicked and pressed myself against the wall. Chris and Jonny were talking, but not in the way they normally would. Chris looked shaky and upset, and Jonny’s arms were crossed in what looked like frustration. Their mouths moved quickly, but their voices were muted so I hadn’t understood what they were saying. I did notice, however, that Jonny had been leaning against the counter to keep himself steady.

 

I, of course, headed straight back into the living room. I didn’t want to know what they’d been doing, and I told myself I didn’t care. Somehow, though, I knew it had to do with the crash. What else could make them look so downcast and anxious? I sat back in my spot, and jumped slightly as I realized Marianne was trying to ask me something.

 

“Guy!” she laughed. “Which do you prefer; Bridget Jones’ Diary or Sweet Home Alabama?”

 

“Uh...I dunno.” I muttered. “I’ve never seen the first.”

 

The rest of the evening passed slowly. Once more I was distracted by my longtime friend; suffocating guilt. Jonny and Chris eventually rejoined us, and they seemed to be back to normal. Whatever normal was. We ate on and off for two hours or so, watching football on the television because the women couldn’t agree on a movie. Eventually, the atmosphere began to dwindle and Jonny’s brother left. Will and Marianne headed out an hour later. Chloe fell asleep on the couch, so I moved myself to sit in the kitchen. Chris insisted on sleeping over, so he was invading the shower upstairs. Jonny sat on the couch next to his wife, watching a late night special on World War I.

 

I picked at a bowl of ice cream, listening to the muted sounds of airplanes and machine guns. Eventually, the noise of the TV stopped altogether and I heard Jonny shuffling down the hallway in my direction. I kept my eyes locked on the quickly melting ice cream as he entered the room. “Are you planning on leaving, or do you want to stay?” he asked.

 

I grinned a little, still not looking up. “You wanna get rid of me?”

 

“No! No, of course not. I’m just wondering. You’ve been so...detached. What’s wrong?” he pressed, leaning across the table to look at me. I shook my head, licking some of my dessert off the spoon.

 

“I’m fine. And if you want, I’ll leave soon.”

 

“No.” He sounded tired, and not willing to put up with my foul mood. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked again, frowning. “Tell me your problems.”

 

“My problems? I nearly killed you.” I snapped, chuckling bitterly. “I could’ve...I...” My smile faltered painfully. I felt my throat tightening dangerously, and I finally looked up to see Jonny’s horrified expression. I pushed the bowl away and crossed my arms protectively around my chest. “Jon, I’m sorry.”

 

“Please, don’t...”

 

“I should’ve paid better attention to the road, but...” I was beginning to ramble.

 

“It wasn’t...”

 

“It’s my fault you’re like this, whatever pain you’re in is my fault!”

 

“No it’s not.” he corrected firmly. “They told me that you saved that girl. Would you rather she had died instead?” I shook my head wordlessly. “Answer me, Guy.”

 

“No.”

 

“Look at me.” he commanded, his voice thick. I shook my head and glanced away, trembling. “Come on...” He took my head firmly in his hands, forced me to face him, and his features twisted in pain. “Oh, god...Look at you.” he mused aloud, probably noticing the dark circles under my eyes. “When was the last time you’ve slept?”

 

“What about you?” I asked, my vision starting to blur. “When was the last time you’ve slept?”

 

He swallowed. “It’s hard.”

 

“Why?”

 

“The pain.”

 

I nodded. “My fault.”

 

Jonny shook his head again. “We were in there together.” he whispered, his hold tightening. “I could have seen her sooner, but I didn’t. She could’ve looked before she crossed the street, but she didn’t. That doesn’t make it your fault.”

 

For the first time, I began to believe him. “I don’t know what I would’ve done...if you’d...” My voice cracked and I had to stop speaking. To my distress, Jonny’s shoulders shook slightly as he breathed, and a tear spilled over from his eye.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I thought you were getting through this...I thought you were okay.” I shook my head and pulled away from him, running a hand forcefully through my hair. I hadn’t meant to upset my friend, and I wished I could’ve kept my mouth shut about the fucking crash. But then, slowly, Jonny pulled me forward and hugged me tightly. He was trembling, and I could hear the tears behind his uneven breathing. “I’m so sorry, Guy...”

 

My face twisted with emotion as he held me, but it wasn’t caused by his embrace. He had simply told me the things I’d been waiting to hear from him; the things he needed to reinforce in order for me to start releasing some of the burden I carried. Gradually, I buried myself into him, drinking in his familiar scent. He was alive, and he wasn’t going to leave. He wasn’t blaming me, and he didn’t hate me.

 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I whispered, a few tears dripping to my chin. He pressed his cheek against my hair, rubbing my back gently.

 

“Same here.”

 

A minute or two later, he made a small noise of discomfort, and I pulled quickly away. I could tell I was beginning to hurt him. He looked evenly back at me, deeply apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re in pain.”

 

“I’m sorry.” he repeated helplessly.

 

I shook my head and took his hand in mine, as if we were kids sealing a deal. “It’s not your fault.” I echoed, my voice a bit stronger. “Just tell me where the medication is.”

 

“The cabinet. No... the one to your left.” he admitted. I got up stiffly and rummaged through the things in the cupboard, feeling intrusive. Eventually, I managed to fish out the pills and I wiped my eyes on my sleeve before I turned around. I tossed them to him, and then got a bottle of water from the fridge. “Thank you.”

 

I paused, watching him carefully count out two pills. “You’re welcome.”

 

 

*sits at the edge of her chair* OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOGGMGG !!!!! :bomb:

 

 

 

 

Sorry I'm not able to say anything intelligent :dead:

That's okay. :P

 

And I know you people aren't going to like this too much, but

that was the last chapter. The only thing left is the epilogue.

 

:toilet:

:shocked2::shocked2::bigcry::bigcry::bigcry:!!!!

:shame:

That's okay. :P

 

And I know you people aren't going to like this too much, but

that was the last chapter. The only thing left is the epilogue.

 

:toilet:

 

:stunned:

 

 

Did you just say

 

last

 

LAST

 

Chapter...!?

 

...

 

COME OUT OF THE TOILET YOOUUUUUU ...awesome story writer :blush:

Well it's okay I think, because I think I couldn't bear any more angstyness :uhoh: Your story makes me want to cuddle those two poor men :\

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't think I comment here enough.

 

But, I read pretty much all of the stories here. Great job guys.

 

PS. Do we get to find out what C&J were talking about in the kitchen?

thalia... :laugh4:!!!

L I B E R A T I O N[/color][/size][/font]

CHAPTER 7

 

I think this is my favorite chapter.

 

 

 

Three weeks later, we did get together. Will and Marianne brought a ton of old movies, and Chris brought the sweets. I just brought myself, but I figured it was good enough. Apart from us, Jonny’s brother (whom I didn’t know too well) was there. Chloe put Violet to bed early and offered to get some beer for the rest of us, but Jonny half-jokingly told her not to bother. If he couldn’t drink, neither could we.

 

Normally, I liked to have fun at get-togethers, but tonight was different. I sat on the couch towards the window, refusing to engage anyone. Will tried sitting with me for a while, but I wasn’t in good enough humor to take up his offers at conversation. I just felt horrible. I felt horrible for being there, I felt horrible for being invited, and I felt horrible for the fact that Jonny was still limping. They said it might go away completely, but on the other hand, they said it might stick with him forever. His bruises hadn’t gone away either. Mine were mostly faded reminders of the night of the accident, but his were more blatant.

 

Every time I saw them, I was reminded of when I thought I’d never talk to him again. When I thought I’d killed him. I felt as if I might lose him again, and the thought terrified me. For the first time, I’d experienced just how fleeting and delicate life was...how easy it was to lose a friend. Sure, I’d been to funerals before, but they’d always been relatives whom I hadn’t known so well. But Jonny...he was one of my closest friends; the one I shared my personal problems with. He was the one who was always there to hold my head above the violent waters.

 

“What’s wrong, sad sack?” asked Jonny, hobbling over to sit on the edge of the couch. My chest tightened, and I focused on the sound of Marianne and Chloe laughing with each other in the adjoining room.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You’ve been sitting here the whole night, Guy.” I looked up at him slowly.

 

“I’m just tired.”

 

“Are your ribs bothering you still? You’re so fucking pale...”

 

“No. No, I’m okay.” I insisted, waving a hand dismissively. “What about you?”

 

“Ah...I’m alright.” he said, shrugging. “Then again, some stuff still hurts. But hey, at least I can still play.” He strummed a few notes on an invisible guitar. “We’ll be touring again in no time.”

 

“Don’t rush it.” I reminded, picking up a can of Pepsi from the table. I looked at it and shook my head. “What’s with this, man? Pepsi? You know I only drink Coke.”

 

“What,” said Jonny, waggling his eyebrows. “Has snorting it gone out of fashion?” he finished, cracking himself up. I laughed despite myself.

 

“Oh, Jon!” called Chris suddenly from the kitchen. “Come ’ere, man, I need help.”

 

“If it has to do with the stove, you’d better call Will. He’s the cook.” Jonny looked at the drummer, who shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll be right there.”

 

I offered my arm to help him, but Jonny shook his head and made his way to the kitchen himself. Chloe and Marianne had drifted out from the other room, and were now sorting through the movies Marianne had brought. I waited a few minutes, watching the ladies discussing their favorite ‘chick flicks’ and the most handsome actors in them. Will and Jon’s brother shared a look of mild disgust, but I couldn’t really be bothered.

 

Finally, I decided to check out what was going on in the kitchen. I strolled across the floor and down the short hall to its doorway. But as I got a glance through the door, I panicked and pressed myself against the wall. Chris and Jonny were talking, but not in the way they normally would. Chris looked shaky and upset, and Jonny’s arms were crossed in what looked like frustration. Their mouths moved quickly, but their voices were muted so I hadn’t understood what they were saying. I did notice, however, that Jonny had been leaning against the counter to keep himself steady.

 

I, of course, headed straight back into the living room. I didn’t want to know what they’d been doing, and I told myself I didn’t care. Somehow, though, I knew it had to do with the crash. What else could make them look so downcast and anxious? I sat back in my spot, and jumped slightly as I realized Marianne was trying to ask me something.

 

“Guy!” she laughed. “Which do you prefer; Bridget Jones’ Diary or Sweet Home Alabama?”

 

“Uh...I dunno.” I muttered. “I’ve never seen the first.”

 

The rest of the evening passed slowly. Once more I was distracted by my longtime friend; suffocating guilt. Jonny and Chris eventually rejoined us, and they seemed to be back to normal. Whatever normal was. We ate on and off for two hours or so, watching football on the television because the women couldn’t agree on a movie. Eventually, the atmosphere began to dwindle and Jonny’s brother left. Will and Marianne headed out an hour later. Chloe fell asleep on the couch, so I moved myself to sit in the kitchen. Chris insisted on sleeping over, so he was invading the shower upstairs. Jonny sat on the couch next to his wife, watching a late night special on World War I.

 

I picked at a bowl of ice cream, listening to the muted sounds of airplanes and machine guns. Eventually, the noise of the TV stopped altogether and I heard Jonny shuffling down the hallway in my direction. I kept my eyes locked on the quickly melting ice cream as he entered the room. “Are you planning on leaving, or do you want to stay?” he asked.

 

I grinned a little, still not looking up. “You wanna get rid of me?”

 

“No! No, of course not. I’m just wondering. You’ve been so...detached. What’s wrong?” he pressed, leaning across the table to look at me. I shook my head, licking some of my dessert off the spoon.

 

“I’m fine. And if you want, I’ll leave soon.”

 

“No.” He sounded tired, and not willing to put up with my foul mood. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked again, frowning. “Tell me your problems.”

 

“My problems? I nearly killed you.” I snapped, chuckling bitterly. “I could’ve...I...” My smile faltered painfully. I felt my throat tightening dangerously, and I finally looked up to see Jonny’s horrified expression. I pushed the bowl away and crossed my arms protectively around my chest. “Jon, I’m sorry.”

 

“Please, don’t...”

 

“I should’ve paid better attention to the road, but...” I was beginning to ramble.

 

“It wasn’t...”

 

“It’s my fault you’re like this, whatever pain you’re in is my fault!”

 

“No it’s not.” he corrected firmly. “They told me that you saved that girl. Would you rather she had died instead?” I shook my head wordlessly. “Answer me, Guy.”

 

“No.”

 

“Look at me.” he commanded, his voice thick. I shook my head and glanced away, trembling. “Come on...” He took my head firmly in his hands, forced me to face him, and his features twisted in pain. “Oh, god...Look at you.” he mused aloud, probably noticing the dark circles under my eyes. “When was the last time you’ve slept?”

 

“What about you?” I asked, my vision starting to blur. “When was the last time you’ve slept?”

 

He swallowed. “It’s hard.”

 

“Why?”

 

“The pain.”

 

I nodded. “My fault.”

 

Jonny shook his head again. “We were in there together.” he whispered, his hold tightening. “I could have seen her sooner, but I didn’t. She could’ve looked before she crossed the street, but she didn’t. That doesn’t make it your fault.”

 

For the first time, I began to believe him. “I don’t know what I would’ve done...if you’d...” My voice cracked and I had to stop speaking. To my distress, Jonny’s shoulders shook slightly as he breathed, and a tear spilled over from his eye.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I thought you were getting through this...I thought you were okay.” I shook my head and pulled away from him, running a hand forcefully through my hair. I hadn’t meant to upset my friend, and I wished I could’ve kept my mouth shut about the fucking crash. But then, slowly, Jonny pulled me forward and hugged me tightly. He was trembling, and I could hear the tears behind his uneven breathing. “I’m so sorry, Guy...”

 

My face twisted with emotion as he held me, but it wasn’t caused by his embrace. He had simply told me the things I’d been waiting to hear from him; the things he needed to reinforce in order for me to start releasing some of the burden I carried. Gradually, I buried myself into him, drinking in his familiar scent. He was alive, and he wasn’t going to leave. He wasn’t blaming me, and he didn’t hate me.

 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I whispered, a few tears dripping to my chin. He pressed his cheek against my hair, rubbing my back gently.

 

“Same here.”

 

A minute or two later, he made a small noise of discomfort, and I pulled quickly away. I could tell I was beginning to hurt him. He looked evenly back at me, deeply apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re in pain.”

 

“I’m sorry.” he repeated helplessly.

 

I shook my head and took his hand in mine, as if we were kids sealing a deal. “It’s not your fault.” I echoed, my voice a bit stronger. “Just tell me where the medication is.”

 

“The cabinet. No... the one to your left.” he admitted. I got up stiffly and rummaged through the things in the cupboard, feeling intrusive. Eventually, I managed to fish out the pills and I wiped my eyes on my sleeve before I turned around. I tossed them to him, and then got a bottle of water from the fridge. “Thank you.”

 

I paused, watching him carefully count out two pills. “You’re welcome.”

 

 

I LOVE this story it is SOO good Kyra! :D