Things aren't going so well on Earth, so Chris and Jonny decide to leave. But their plan doesn't work exactly like they thought it would.
It's a slash fic!
---
It was May. The time of year when things warm up and blossom in preparation for summer. Brown turns to green, and gray turns to blue. Rain fills the world, but only for a short while. Then the sun comes out, and the children play in the streets, their parents watching joyously from afar.
It started in April. Five weeks of nonstop, no holds barred guerrilla warfare. Seemingly every country on the planet took part. Bombs dropped every few hours, and a dusty cloud of smoke clogged the air. Bodies, both dead and alive, were strewn across the ground. No one was safe, and after a few short days it became every man for himself. Even the children weren't protected from the violent attacks on mankind. The cause of the war was unknown, but by this point it was insignificant anyway.
Just down the road from a small bridge in London was a collapsed apartment building. The building had been home to many occupants, namely one Chris Martin. When the building was crashed into by a small aircraft, it fell in an instant. One minute the building was fine, the people inside sitting in the misled comfort of their dwellings, and literally two seconds later it was gone. A simple blink would have caused any onlooker to miss it. Of course, in a world like this, no one dared to blink.
Chris saw the whole thing. He had just returned from a trip down the road to see his friend, who he was afraid had been killed, and as he looked up at the building, preparing to cross the street, it collapsed. He threw the box he was holding (given to him by the aforementioned friend) and ran to help anyone who had survived. He could hear the cries of a few younger children, probably no older than five years, but they remained faceless throughout his search. A few other kind pedestrians lent their hands as well, but not even a group of the strongest men in the world could help the victims. It was a lost cause.
With nowhere else to go, Chris returned to his friend's house. On any other occasion, he'd have thanked his stars to be alive, to not have been in that building at the time of the crash. He wasn't thankful, though. Really, surviving anything in this world did no more good than dying. You might make it past one explosion, past one missed bullet, but there's no saying that another one wont find its way to you five seconds later. He forgot the box on the street, though by the time he remembered it had probably been snatched up already. People will take anything they can get their hands on when they have almost nothing left, even if they're not sure what something is. If they see it just laying there, and no one else has taken it, it's theirs.
It was just a box of mementos anyway. A few souvenirs remnant from the early days of his band. They were nice to have, but completely useless and an awful encumbrance in this age. He still had his band members anyway, and that was enough. As long as they made it through everything together, or perhaps stuck together in death, then Chris was satisfied. As long as they were together.
But two of his band mates he hadn't spoken to in weeks. Guy Berryman, the devilishly handsome bassist, was somewhere in the deserts of Africa, hiding from the Egyptian soldiers and turning tricks in the local village for food. Without his looks, he'd have starved or probably been killed in a matter of days. As a drummer, Will Champion had an acute sense of rhythm, and was able to lead a vast group of troops around the English countryside in hopes of defending his homeland. They'd been successful on a number of occasions, so Chris wasn't too worried about him. Regardless, they'd still not spoken to each other since just after the war started.
He and Jonny stayed together, though. They had to. Jonny Buckland, the sweet and generous guitar player, was the only person Chris ever really loved. He could deal without contact between Guy and Will and himself, but if he went a day without talking to Jonny he'd panic. It's not that he didn't think Jonny could survive on his own, just that he wanted to make sure that Jonny was alive at all times. If anything did happen to him, then Chris would definitely not take any precautions to stay alive. Hell, he'd probably walk out into open fire without thinking twice.
So he and Jonny stayed together, just down the road from each other. Every day Chris walked from his apartment to Jonny's, until it collapsed, of course. Then they shared Jonny's apartment. They rarely went outside, even though there was no guarantee that staying inside would be safer. They just didn't feel the need to make contact with the outside world.
“Jonny, do you remember that plan we came up with, last week I think?” Chris asked as he and Jonny sat on the floor of the apartment one day, eating what was probably their dinner.
“You mean... if things don't work out?” Jonny vaguely asked as he swallowed a bit of his food. Chris swirled his fork around in the bowl of rice he had. Rice was mostly all they could eat. All they could find to eat.
“What if we just did it now?” Chris suggested. Jonny placed his own bowl down on the floor and moved over to where Chris was sitting. He looked deeply into Chris's eyes and nodded.
“We... we could. What about Guy and Will?”
“I've been thinking it over, and... there's no guarantee we'll see them again, even after all of this ends. If it ends,” he added. “I just think that there's really no point in doing all of this anymore.”
Jonny sat silently for a few moments, thinking. Eventually he nodded again and said, “Tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow's good.” Chris shoved aside his bowl, too sick to eat now. Everything was so hard to grasp. Never in his thirty-two years of existence did he think that something like this would happen. That some situation would put him in such distress that he would even consider doing what he and Jonny were about to do.
The next day they took the five minute walk to the small bridge. The water below it was murky and had been tinted red with blood. Countless numbers of bodies had fallen into the river, but almost all of them had been carried away, leaving behind only a hint of color. Chris and Jonny both stood next to the railing, looking down. As far as either of them knew, the only people who had taken the journey down were those who had not done so on purpose. Until now.
“I can't believe we're doing this,” Jonny said as he grabbed Chris's hand.
“What else are we gonna do, Jonny? There's nothing left here worth staying for, and... I have faith. We'll be together forever now, and nothing can potentially destroy that.” Chris lifted his arm and kissed Jonny's hand. “We'll be safe, love.”
“Let's do it.” Chris climbed the step of the railing, and when he balanced himself he held his hand out to help Jonny up. Once Jonny stood beside him, Chris closed his eyes. Then he opened them back and kissed Jonny as passionately as he could.
“Just in case,” he whispered as he linked arms with Jonny. “Here goes nothing. On three?”
“One...”
“... two...”
Just as a giant van came bustling down the road, they both shouted, “Three!” and leapt forward.
-
The pearly gates of Heaven where nothing like Chris had imagined. Nothing bad, though; they were actually pearlier than he had ever dreamed. He couldn't believe he was actually there, that all those years of preaching he heard had not been incorrect after all. He stood, mouth agape, marveling at the sight before him. For a second he didn't realise that Jonny wasn't with him. He didn't think much of it, though, and just passed it off as nothing.
“Excuse me, sir,” a voice said. A boisterous man with long brown hair and an eye patch stood to the left of Chris, his hands clasped together in a friendly sort of way. He was wearing billowing black pants and a white shirt that seemed to ruffle a bit. He was also smiling, and his gap-toothed grin frightened Chris a little. “Welcome.”
“Thanks,” Chris said. He tried to hold back his thoughts, but it proved to be an impossible task in the afterlife. “Are you a... pirate?”
The man simply laughed. “No, but I get that a lot. Name's Pete.”
“Oh. I'm Chris.”
“Yeah, I know,” Pete said. “Listen, from the minute we've spent together chatting, and from the years I've watched you from up here, you seem like a nice guy.”
“Well, thank you.”
“But you don't belong here.” Pete placed a giant hand on Chris's shoulder and led him to a small podium. A paper was laying on top of the surface, and Chris immediately understood what he meant.“See this? This is my list.”
“I'm not on it,” Chris somberly said. “It's because I was with Jonny, wasn't it?”
“No, no,” Pete reassured him. “Love is love, we don't care about that.” Chris breathed a sigh of relief. “It's because you killed yourself. That actually is frowned upon.”
At that very moment, everything came crashing down on Chris. His mind was completely overwhelmed by the prior events of his life and now death. He and Jonny jumped so they could escape the horrors of the previous world and be together in the next. Now, because of that, he wasn't allowed in. And suddenly, Jonny's absence became so much more important.
“Where's Jonny?” he asked.
“I'm sorry, I can't answer any more of your questions,” Pete apologized. “It's time for you to leave.”
“Leave and go where?”
“I think you know the answer to that. Sorry, Chris.”
Everything turned white, and the picture of Pete and his pearly gates faded. There was just nothing. It was like this for what Chris felt was a few minutes. During that time, he thought about what had happened. He killed himself. He was in the afterlife now. He wasn't allowed into Heaven. Most importantly, he had no clue where Jonny was.
Maybe Jonny had gotten there first? And he would have been denied, too. So... wherever this next place was gonna be, which Chris was pretty sure he knew where, Jonny would probably be there when he arrived, smiling and being as gorgeous as he always was. Their afterlife wouldn't be as ideal as they planned, but they'd still be together.
The white flickered into black. There was still nothing. Nothing visible, anyway.
“Chris, Chris! My main man,” a booming voice said.
“Main man?” Chris asked.
“Welcome,” the voice announced, and suddenly everything was lit up. A man with fiery red hair and piercing yellow eyes, sitting recumbently on a sort of throne, spoke, “To my domain.”
Chris looked around. Hell was nothing like he thought it would be. It actually didn't seem so bad. There weren't any people being tortured, there weren't any giant parties of flames dancing around and heating up the place. In fact, there wasn't much of anything. Besides Chris and Satan, no one else was around. They were on some sort of platform, Satan sitting in his throne, and everything else was just darkness.
“This is it?” Chris asked, still looking around.
“I'm a very simple man, yes,” Satan chuckled. Chris thought it was odd for a man like that to do such a thing. “Now, onto more pressing matters. You're here.”
“Yes, I am.” Satan flashed him a devious smile.
“I know what you want to ask, Chris, and I have your answer.”
“Where is he?”
“Not here,” he laughed. “Obviously.”
“Where is he?” Chris repeated, trying not to lose his patience.
“A place I think you're very familiar with.”
“Where?”
“Why should I tell you?” Satan asked, crinkling his nose. “What's in it for me?”
“Right... I don't have anything. You can't take my soul, right, because I'm already here?”
“A very true point you've made, Chris.” He sat up a bit in his throne, which Chris could now see was black with red satin draped over the seat. “I can't take your soul. But I can do something else.”
Chris swallowed. Naturally, he was quite intimidated. “What's that?” Satan once again flashed his devious smile.
“I can challenge you to the most testing of games. If you win, I'll tell you where he is and maybe even let you see him. If I win,” he said, standing up and walking over to Chris, “well, you'll see.” He gave a quick wink.
“Fine.”
“Excellent,” Satan grinned.
-
“That's not fair!” Satan yelled. “You cheated!”
“I did not!” Chris yelled back.
“It's all that yoga you do. You had an unfair advantage.”
“How is that unfair? You're Satan, surely you could have made it so I'd lose!”
“I... I could have,” Satan replied. “But that would also be cheating.”
“I don't see why you'd choose to play Twister, anyway,” Chris said. “You could have at least challenged me to Monopoly. I'm horrible at that game.”
“Maybe I should have challenged you to shutting the hell up,” Satan retorted. “You'd have lost that one for sure.”
“I probably would have!” Chris agreed. “Anyway, will you please tell me where Jonny is?”
Satan sighed. “I still think you cheated... but fine.”
“Thank you.”
“Earth.”
“Earth?” Chris dumbly repeated.
“Earth. University College Hospital in London, to be precise.” Remarking Chris's vacant stare, he added, “He's still alive.”
“He...” Chris couldn't speak. His mouth had gone completely dry.
“He survived the fall. A group of people passing by saw you two, realized he was still alive, and took him to the hospital. I think he's still in a coma, actually.”
“No... no...” Chris repeated. “But we're supposed to... to be together.”
“You wanted to be together,” Satan corrected. “If you were supposed to be together, you'd be together.”
“So, what, then? I just stay here, and Jonny stays there, and we'll never see each other again?” Chris cried.
What is this? Satan thought. This kid comes in, crying about his lost love, and you're gonna feel sorry for him? Who do you think you are, Jesus?
“It looks that way,” he said. Dammit... if he doesn't stop crying I'm gonna have to punch him... Ah, who am I kidding? Then I'll feel worse.
“Is this my punishment?”
“I suppose so.” Don't do it. Don't feel bad for him. If you do it, I'll hit you.
Chris sniffed, wiping away the tears from his eyes. “But what about when Jonny dies?”
“What do you mean?”
“When he dies, wont he end up here, too? So then I'll get to see him.”
Without thinking, Satan said, “You could see him now.” Shit! Aggravated with himself, Satan closed his eyes and felt his hand smack hard into his face.
“I could?”
Satan took a few moments to accurately prepare his response. He wasn't going to make any more slip-ups. “It is possible for you to return to Earth for a short period of time to visit him. You wont be alive, mind, and no one will be able to see you, but it is possible.”
“You wouldn't want to let me go, would you?” Chris asked, the hope building up inside of him. To see Jonny again would be so wonderful, even if they couldn't interact.
“Rematch,” Satan said. “We play one more game, and you can go if you win.”
“Do I get to pick what we play?”
“Of course not!”
“Well... OK,” Chris said, defeated. “But just remember, you'll probably lose if we play Twister again.”
-
Forty minutes later, after a rousing game of Battleship, Chris was being sent back to Earth. His second victory had not come as much of a surprise to Satan, though he was still reluctant to send Chris back. In the end, though, his tiny portion of kindness got the better of him.
When Chris landed, he was on top of the bridge where he and Jonny had jumped. It was weird now to look at the water and think that some of that blood was his. He wondered just how long it had been since he died, and if the people who had taken Jonny to the hospital had taken his body as well. Probably not.
He only had a vague idea of where the hospital was. He'd never been there before, but he recalled passing it every day that he drove to his parents' house. His parents... they'd be so disappointed if they knew he ended up going to Hell. As he began to walk down the bridge, he felt a twinge of guilt. Of course, there was no way that they would find out. Even if they were dead, there was probably very little chance of them finding out Chris's whereabouts.
It took him nearly two hours to walk to the hospital. Along the way he watched the world around him, witnessed several murders and was oddly glad that he killed himself. The world was not meant to be in such a state. Or maybe it was. Maybe this was all some sort of divine intervention. He kinda hoped it wasn't.
The doors of the hospital were open, but Chris soon found that it didn't matter. As he was not alive, he was not tangible, and could therefore drift through any obstacle that got in his way. Like doors.
Jonny's room was on the second floor, tucked away behind the wave of injured people who surfed on the sea of stretchers lining the hallways. The room was nearly empty, save for Jonny's bed and the few machines he was hooked up to. Chris had no idea what any of the numbers or symbols on the machines meant, but he assumed that Jonny was at least alive. Several of his limbs were poorly wrapped in makeshift casts, and his face was torn with lacerations. Chris cautiously moved towards his body. Despite all the cuts and bruises, to him Jonny still looked beautiful. He reached out to touch the face of his love, only to be sadly reminded of the fact that he wasn't real.
“I'm sorry, Jonny,” he whispered. “None of this was meant to happen. We were supposed to die together. If I knew you were gonna survive... I just wanted everything to be OK.”
“It is OK, Chris,” Jonny's voice said. But Jonny was still unconscious, and his mouth hadn't moved at all. Chris shifted slightly closer to Jonny.
“Jonny?”
“Don't blame yourself, it's not your fault.”
“It was my idea,” Chris muttered.
“And I went along with it. Because I wanted to be with you. Neither of us could control what happened.”
“Does it hurt?”
“I don't know, I can't feel anything.”
“Where are you?”
“Turn around.” Chris turned, and behind him was Jonny, standing upright and looking as he had before they parted. Chris slowly walked over to him.
“Are you real?” he asked.
“As real as you are.” Chris took a second to think this over, before remembering that he wasn't real. Which meant Jonny wasn't either. He took a chance and threw himself at Jonny, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight.
“Oh, Jonny!” he said as Jonny returned his embrace. “Wait... what does this mean?”
“I'm not sure, but... I don't think I'll last much longer,” Jonny replied. No sooner than the words left his mouth did an alarming beeping noise protrude from the machines on the other side of the room. A few nurses dressed in their scrubs ran in and tried to preform a number of resuscitations, but to no avail. Chris and Jonny watched on as the nurses called time of death.
“I guess you were right,” Chris said.
Suddenly, everything went black. Chris spun around and felt the air surrounding him, but there was nothing there. Panic set in once again. He got to see Jonny, which was what he wanted, and he was glad that he did. He would have been upset to never see Jonny again after that, but he would have been much more OK with that if he had gotten the chance to say goodbye. After all, that's what he went back to Earth to do. Now he was just in this oblivion, alone and confused. He had been jerked away from the living world, and even though Jonny had died, they were still not together. Chris wasn't even sure where he was. Everything was pitch black.
Was he back in Hell? It would have made some sense, but he thought that by now Satan would have revealed himself once more. Or maybe he wouldn't get the chance to meet up with Satan again. Perhaps this was his Hell. Emptiness and confusion. He wondered where Jonny had gone to; if Jonny was also in total darkness.
Then, out of pure hope, he gathered his air and shouted a tumultuous, “Jonny!” But there was no answer. Chris sank down into himself as he lost his hope. He wanted to let the tears drop from his eyes, but they wouldn't come. Complete emptiness.
A gust of wind came from nowhere and ruffled Chris's curls. Chris stood still. Another gust rushed past him. He stood still. A third gust came and knocked him back until he was just flying. Flying through the darkness.
He landed a short while later, on the darkness, it seemed. There was something under his feet, but he couldn't see it. He felt it, though, and it felt solid and firm, almost like a road or sidewalk. Or floor. He moved his foot around. The sole of his shoe slid a bit, and he concluded that it must have been some sort of floor. But he still couldn't see it.
Another wind, or perhaps the same wind that pushed him, brought an object to his feet. It was a paper, folded horizontally and stamped with a Chris~. He bent down to reach the paper, but he couldn't grab it. He tried again. The paper just slipped through his hand.
His panic and confusion, along with his slightly tired state, caused him to easily lose his patience. “What is this, some kind of sick joke?” he screeched into the darkness. He didn't honestly expect an answer, and he didn't get one, either. His last attempt at grabbing the paper was a fail, and as soon as his hand passed through, the sheet set itself on fire. And just like that, it was gone.
The fire left a mark, though, on the floor. It was yellow and scuffed a bit. Chris realised this must have been the floor. Only a small portion of it was visible. He moved his foot into the spot, and as he did so the color spread. It spread as far as it could, until everything was yellow. Chris temporarily forgot his panic and chuckled at the coincidence.
He took a few steps and wondered if there was anything else to be discovered. The yellow was no more calming than the darkness had been. If only he had any small clue as to where his was, he might have been a bit happier.
A boisterous laugh emerged from the distance. The hope that Chris had lost slowly crept its way back into his body.
“Hello?” Chris called out.
“Hey, man,” a voice said. It sounded familiar, but Chris couldn't exactly put his finger on it.
“Who are you?”
“Come on, you don't recognize your good old friend?” the voice laughed.
“No, I don't.”
“Don't be so serious man, this is the afterlife, remember? Take a chill pill.”
“Do you know where Jonny is?”
“Jonny?” More laughing. “Of course. But do you know where Jonny is?” Chris had the sudden vision of a drunk man stumbling around somewhere as he conversed with Chris. Maybe it was his uncle.
“No, if I knew where Jonny was I wouldn't be asking you.”
“Of course you wouldn't,” the voice said. “Very reasonable argument. You'd like to see him again?”
“Yes, please,” Chris said.
“I think I can arrange that,” the voice replied. “Listen, I've been watching you some more, and you really are a nice guy. It's a shame.”
“What's a shame?” Chris asked. Then, for some reason, he knew exactly who he was talking to. “Pete?”
“Hey, how ya doin'?” Pete shouted in Chris's ear as he magically appeared by his side, causing Chris to jump a bit. “Pete's the name, yeah.”
“Can you explain to me what's going on?”
“Yes.”
“... Are you going to explain to me what's going on?”
“Not yet. Come on, we've got places to go.” Pete grabbed Chris's arm with his giant hand and pulled him away from his spot. In a fraction of a second, they'd traveled to somewhere completely different. This time there was no emptiness at all. They were in a sort of room still, but it was filled with stacks of oddly shaped boxes. Upon closer inspection, Chris realised these were guitar cases.
“Jonny,” he said without thinking.
“Hmm?” a voice said from behind a nearby stack. “Wait, someone else is here?”
“Jonny, I'm here!” Chris shouted. Jonny peeked out from behind the stack. As soon as he saw Chris his jaw dropped.
“Oh... Chris...” Jonny ran to Chris and held him tight. “I thought I'd never see you again.”
“I know, me too,” Chris said. “But we're here now.”
“Yeah, wherever 'here' is.”
“Oh, about that!” Pete chimed in. “You guys need to do something for me.”
“What's that?” Chris asked.
“Look at each other.” Chris and Jonny each set their eyes on the other and smiled. “Now think of one place. Just one place.”
The guitar-filled room dissolved and gave way to a small town road with a single building standing proudly. Pete had disappeared, too. Chris and Jonny walked up to the building, which they both had immediately recognized.
“This is our old dorm,” Chris said.
“Where we first lived together,” Jonny added.
“Is this where you thought of, too?” Chris asked, turning to Jonny. Jonny nodded.
“Enjoy, you two,” Pete's voice rang from the sky.
“What is this?” Chris asked.
“Your afterlife.”
“Our afterlife?”
“Chris, there is no such thing as Heaven and Hell. Sorry to break it to you, but it's true. There is, however, an afterlife. Until it's perfect, there may be some slight drawbacks and you might end up being completely miserable, but in the end you stay where your heart desires. And your hearts desired each other. That's what you got. Enjoy.”
“Thank you!” Chris shouted, but by then he was certain that Pete was gone. He turned to Jonny and smiled. “It is perfect.”
“Come on,” Jonny said, grabbing Chris's arm and leading him towards the entrance of the building. “Let's go spend the rest of our afterlives together.”
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