CHRIS needs to tell Jonny something, but what Jonny has to say to him is much more troubling.
It's a slash fic!
---
For the first time in his life, Chris was dressed in a decent outfit, one that didn't make him look like he was homeless. A navy blue button-up shirt, perhaps the only one he'd ever owned, was clinging to his torso while his favorite pinstriped pants ran the length of his strong legs. He'd left his trainers and cap at home, exchanging them for black dress shoes and a black dress hat, which he had tilted slightly to the left, to match. The sleeves of the button-up were rolled halfway up his forearms, and he kept nervously messing with the skin they left exposed. He sat patiently- as patiently as he could, at least- outside of the three-story apartment building and under the poor illumination of the streetlights. A shadowed figure walked down the sidewalk. Just the figure Chris needed to see.
He remained seated, though, wondering if Jonny would even notice he was there. It was a test of sorts, because if Jonny didn't see him, then it probably spoke wonders of their relationship. The shadow moved closer until the poor illumination splashed over it and Jonny came out of the dark.
"Chris," Jonny said without any prior greeting. Chris looked up with his nervous eyes and was relieved for one tiny second, before the anxiety flooded back. "We need to talk."
"Yeah, I actually have something to tell you," Chris began, before Jonny grabbed his wrist and pulled him up.
"It might sound a bit selfish, but I think what I need to say is more important right now." Chris looked into Jonny's eyes and could see the seriousness behind the pale green. It worried him a little. "Come on, we can't talk here."
Jonny raced off in the direction opposite of where he had entered, and Chris followed as quickly as he could before the darkness swallowed them both. Chris could barely make out the outline of the other man, but managed to stay with him for several blocks. Once they were a safe distance away from the poorly illuminated sidewalk, Jonny stopped and spoke to Chris in a hushed voice.
"When I was out earlier... I ran into someone," he said, glancing around the darkness in a bit of a panic. Chris watch him sharply, pained to see Jonny in such a state, knowing that at that particular moment he couldn't help. Not until he knew what was going on, at least. "Someone I don't know, right, but he was a scary-looking guy right off the bat."
"What happened?" Chris asked, intent on using his reliability as the only form of help he could offer.
"He... I don't really know how to put it..." While Jonny searched for the words, a sickened feeling rose in Chris's stomach. There were a million ways for Jonny to end that sentence, and judging by the quiet voice and hurried tone, none of them were good. "He offered me a job."
"A job?" Chris dumbly repeated.
"I didn't take it, don't worry. Mostly because of what the job was." Jonny raised his hand to his mouth and bit down on his fingernail.
"What job was it?"
"An, uh..." Jonny chewed his nail a bit longer, then looked at Chris with fleeting eyes. "An assassin."
The words hit Chris, but they left almost no impression. "Assassin?" he asked, quite confused. Why would anyone hire Jonny as an assassin?
"That's what I thought, too," Jonny said. Then he hesitated, sighed deeply and continued, "It gets worse."
"How?" Chris asked, though he didn't really want to know the answer.
"I was asked to kill you." This time the words left a much deeper impression. A crater, almost.
"What?" was all that his jumbled brain could come up with as a response. This was nowhere near the way he expected the night to go. His eyes widened as he searched through the dark for Jonny's face. It had to be a joke, seriously. There was no way someone would even think to hire such a sweet and kind man as Jonny to be an assassin. And to kill him? It had to be a joke.
Jonny moved closer to Chris so that each could see the other's face. There was no hint of drollness in Jonny's expression, which led Chris to believe that he wasn't lying. Jonny painfully looked over Chris's face, and twisted his mouth in agony.
"I wish I wasn't telling you the truth. I wish that none of it had happened, but it did," he said apologetically. "Someone's out to get you, Chris."
"How do you know that guy was serious?" Chris asked. He was in so much denial. Sure, he could be a huge pain in the ass at times, but not enough to be wanted dead. And there didn't seem to be any other fitting explanation. He never hurt anyone. He never even tried to hurt anyone.
Jonny uncomfortably scratched the back of his neck, and said, "When someone asks you to kill someone else, and waves a hundred grand in your face, they're probably serious." Chris stared at the ground, frantically trying to comprehend this new information, and Jonny felt bad. "Come on, let's go back to my place. I'll make you some tea."
Chris wasn't going to move voluntarily anytime soon, so Jonny grabbed his arm and dragged him down the street, and Chris nearly forgot how much he liked when Jonny touched him. Then he remembered that he needed to speak with Jonny, but the words would not come out of his mouth, so they walked back to Jonny's apartment in silence.
Once inside, Jonny dropped Chris onto the couch and went to prepare a kettle. Chris could just barely grasp what had happened, but slowly he stopped caring, as he'd gone back to fussing over what he wanted to tell Jonny. When Jonny returned carrying two steaming cups of tea, Chris swallowed hard and his nervousness caused his hand to start shaking. He tried to hide it, though, and took the cup from Jonny with his other hand. The hot liquid slid down his throat and hit his stomach, but it didn't do much good.
"Why are you dressed up?" Jonny suddenly asked from his position in a chair five feet away from the couch. Chris's brain failed him once more, and he just stared blankly at Jonny. "I mean, you look good, it's just a little... out-of-character."
Chris felt his heart skip a beat at 'you look good,' and he soon had no control over his shaking hand. He took another sip of his tea, trying to coat his dry mouth so he'd be able to speak at least a few words.
"I... wanted to look nice," he finally said. "I thought this was the way to do it."
"Oh. Job well done, then." Jonny took a sip of his own drink, so he didn't notice Chris gasping amorously. He swished the tea around in his mouth, gulped, then said, "You wanted to talk to me."
"Yeah," Chris hopelessly said. "I came over here to tell you something."
"What was it?"
"It's not important," Chris dismissed, bowing his head down. He desperately wished for his hand to stop trembling, and for everything in life to be much simpler.
"Obviously it is, seeing as you waited outside for me." Chris knew he should look up, knew he should tell Jonny what he wanted- what he needed to say, but he had lost any sliver of courage he had before.
"It's not important anymore," he lied. He was still facing down, but he could feel Jonny's gaze piercing through his skin. Jonny was a good man, though, and didn't press on for answers.
"I'm sorry I ruined your night," Jonny said, and his sincerity cause Chris to look up.
"Jonny, you could never ruin anything for me," Chris said, and he knew that was as close as he would get to telling Jonny. For now, anyway.
"Oh." Jonny started laughing, which caught Chris by surprise at first. "Then I take back my apology."
Chris laughed along, which calmed him a little. Once the laughter was gone, though, a silence hung over the room. Chris fidgeted with his cup, and Jonny watched him, thinking and formulating.
"Maybe you should stay here tonight... if you don't mind," he added, and moved his seat closer to Chris. "Like, I know you're probably safe, but if something did happen-"
"I don't mind," Chris instantly replied, happy that the night was now going his way, even if Jonny meant it only platonically.
"OK," Jonny said, and Chris thought he saw a flicker of a smile, which sent his heart racing. "The guest room isn't really all that clean right now, but the bed is fine."
"Works for me." Chris stared into his now empty cup, blinked a few times, then looked back up at Jonny. "Um, I'm actually pretty tired now, so..."
"Right, I'll just get things set up and you can go sleep," Jonny said.
"Thank you, Jonny." Jonny nodded, then went off to fix up the room, leaving Chris alone with his thoughts. There were so many perfect moments for him to get everything off his chest, but it was just too hard to be brave. It also didn't help that whenever Jonny would smile or laugh or look at him with those stunning eyes, Chris would forget about everything else.
Eventually, Jonny came back, and he led Chris down the tiny hallway to the bedroom at the end. It was indeed a messy room, with piles of paper stacked up to about Chris's waist spread throughout, and bunches of boxes to go along with them. The bed looked inviting, though, and Chris gladly collapsed on top of it's oh so slightly wrinkled sheets, throwing his hat carelessly off the side of the bed and kicking his shoes to the floor, as Jonny shut off the light and closed the door.
-
Chris slept through most of the night, but when he woke up and stared around the dark room, all the events of that night rushed back into his mind. He had come to spill his feelings to Jonny, and instead was told that his life was at risk. It was certainly not what he wanted.
He tossed in the bed a few times, the blankets stubbornly clinging to his body and twisting with every movement he made. He tried to get back to sleep, but for some reason he couldn't, possibly because he had this song stuck in his head that would not go away, or possibly because he couldn't stop thinking about Jonny, sleeping soundly in the other room, and how he longed to let him know how he felt. Even if the feeling wasn't mutual, he still would like to admit it.
When morning came, Chris realized that he had at some point managed to fall asleep again, and he also noticed the huge amount of bright sunlight that white curtains let into the room. It was almost blinding. Chris stumbled out of bed and into the other room, not bothering to pick up his hat or shoes.
Jonny's door was closed, and Chris figured he was still asleep. He walked into the living room, however, and found that not only was Jonny already awake, he'd prepared some sort of breakfast and seemed to have finished his share.
"Help yourself," Jonny said, skipping the greetings altogether. "I made plenty."
"Uh, thanks." Chris tiredly rubbed his hand across his eyes and took a seat. The food smelled delicious; chocolate-chip pancakes soaked in maple syrup and buttered toast. Chris dug in, and Jonny wearily watched him.
"Should I call the police?" Jonny asked. "I didn't even think about that last night."
"I don't know, maybe," Chris shrugged, stuffing his face full of pancake. "Did you make these from scratch or something?"
"Yeah," Jonny shyly said. "But, I just thought that the police might want to know."
"They might," Chris agreed, though quite blasé. "You seriously made these yourself?"
"Why, are they bad?" Chris shook his head, and Jonny sighed in relief. "Oh, good. Anyway, maybe there's something they could do to help keep you protected or something. So no one... kills you."
Chris stopped eating, placed his plate on the table in front of him, and looked up at Jonny. "Tell them," he quietly said.
Jonny nodded, and said, "I'll be right back," before disappearing into the other room. Chris sat back in his seat and waited. He could hear the faint sound of Jonny speaking on the phone. It was odd to think that such a thing could happen to him. The idea that someone would want to kill him made him realize that he wasn't going to live forever. One day, he would die, whether or not it was murder. And maybe he'd die without ever telling Jonny how he felt, or maybe his feelings would have dissipated by then.
Several minutes later, Jonny returned, but rather than sitting back down, he walked towards the door and grabbed his keys and jacket.
"They want to talk to me down at the station," he said, turning around. "You can come with, or you're welcome to stay here, if you like."
"It would be better for me to go, right?" Chris asked. "Since I'm the one they're after."
"Probably." Chris stood up, started to walk away, then momentarily stopped, held up a finger to tell Jonny to wait, and went back to walking away. He came back out wearing his hat and shoes, and was out the door quicker than Jonny could open it.
-
"They're doing what?" Guy asked, bewildered. He and Will were sat down on Jonny's couch, though the two men were accompanied by Jonny and Chris, who were seated in chairs beside the coffee table.
"Bringing in a psychic," Jonny said, with little confidence. "It sounded a little odd to me, too, but apparently that's the way they've decided to handle this."
"Do they think it's a joke?" Guy spat. "Our friend's life is in danger, and they want a psychic to stop it? How does that even work?"
Jonny shrugged, feeling a little helpless since he was not so learned in the subject, and Guy seemed really intent on getting answers. "I really don't know, but I think they do. I hope they do," he added.
"I have to wear a vest, too," Chris said, with an emotionless tone. "Bullet-proof." Guy's expression changed from outraged to interested.
"Are you wearing it now?" Chris silently nodded. "That's pretty cool."
"It's kinda uncomfortable," Chris replied, and the conversation ended there. After a few moments of awkward silence, Jonny clapped his hands together.
"Right, we're supposed to meet with her today," he said, "Actually, I think she might be here in a few min-"
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Each man looked over, and Jonny stood up to answer it, while Guy said, "Hey, maybe you're the psychic."
When Jonny opened the door, he was quite surprised by what he saw. The word 'psychic' had him imagining some old lady, covered in earthy-colored shawls and beads hanging off her neck. The lady before him, however, was not old at all; she couldn't have been a day over thirty. She certainly wasn't wearing shawls, either. She just had on a plain white blouse, a pair of faded light-blue jeans, and some sneakers. She did wear a necklace, but it was only a simple gold chain.
"Hello... Mr. Buckland, I assume? I'm Melinda," she smiled, holding out her hand.
"Yes, I'm Jonny. Nice to meet you," Jonny said, nervously shook her hand, and allowed her inside the apartment. She stood near the door for a while, just observing the room. When her eyes landed on Chris, they widened.
"You are Chris," she said matter-of-factly, then swooped over by his side. She leaned in a little too close for Chris's comfort, and scanned him over. She didn't say anything, though, and soon moved to look at the other men. "My, my. What a handsome group of men. Perfect for some side-plot romance, hmm?"
She knocked her head back and laughed, though no one else seemed to appreciate her humor. Guy just stared at her with what looked like a hint of fear in his eyes, Will was busy maintaining his nails, and Chris was fidgeting in his seat. Jonny was the only one who really paid any attention to her, but her attention had turned back to Chris.
"Ah, but I see someone's heart is already taken." Chris looked up at her and promptly turned a shade of bright red.
"What? Chris!" Guy butted in. "Who??"
"Don't bother him. He'll tell you when the time is ready."
"Aw, what if he dies before he tells us?" Melinda looked at him and made notice of how he was quick to joke with his friend's life. Chris noticed, too, and sickly put his head down.
"Then you were not meant to know," she simply replied.
"So, you're, like, a legit psychic, then?" Jonny spoke up.
"It depends on what you mean," she answered. "I can't predict the future or anything. No one can. But I can see what is there, even though others may not be able to do so."
"You're going to help us."
"Aw, you're really worried about him, aren't you? How sweet." Chris looked up at Jonny, a tiny glint of hope shining in his eyes. "Of course, you are a very sweet man."
"He is," Chris agreed, and he felt that with every day he was getting closer to telling Jonny.
Melinda looked at him with knowing eyes and said, "I'm afraid I must be going now. It was nice to meet you all... Chris, Jonny..." She narrowed her eyes at Guy and Will for a few moments. "Your names are very simple... words, even..."
"He's Guy and I'm Will." Will hadn't even bothered to look up from his nails.
"Hmm, fitting. Well, goodbye, then," she said, and was quickly gone. Jonny watched the door as her figure disappeared, and Chris watched Jonny as his uneasiness grew. Surely, it wasn't obvious that he liked Jonny. Melinda was a psychic, after all, and she said she could see things that others didn't. There was no way anyone else knew. But he was still worried.
"What did she mean, 'fitting'?" Guy asked. "Is it because I'm male? Was she making fun of my name?"
"I don't think she was making fun of your name, I think she was making fun of you," Will said.
"Well, she was making fun of you, too," Guy grumped. The rest of their time in Jonny's apartment was spent hearing Guy go on and on about Melinda, in a way that made it seemed like he both didn't like her and liked her too much. None of the other men could tell which was true, though none of them really cared.
Once Guy, Chris, and Will had left for their respective homes a few hours later, Jonny remained alone in his living room. He threw himself onto the sofa, grabbed the book that was sitting on his coffee table, and began to read. He loved to read, especially science fiction books. He felt it was a nice escape from reality, which was exactly what he needed right now. His worry over Chris was stressful enough, but he had the added weight of not knowing what would happen to him, since he turned the job down and ratted them out- whoever 'they' were.
But his science fiction stories let him get away from all that. They were so far-fetched that nothing in them was remotely close to his life.
-
There were several attempts made on Chris's life over the next few weeks. Whoever had been hired to kill him must have known about the vest, because they seemed to aim for his head, though every shot missed by an eerily off amount. Melinda watched over everything closely, taking in all of the details of every event- where it happened, what time it happened, who else was around. There were small hints at each one of the scenes, all of which pointed to the initials A.Q.F.
"A.Q.F.?" Guy laughed when Melinda told them her suspicions. "What the fuck does that even mean?"
"They're initials, I assume of the assassin who is out to get dear Christopher," she coldly replied. Guy had certainly not made a good first impression on her, and his attitude over the following weeks had not changed her mind whatsoever.
"Dear Christopher?" he scoffed. "You've known him for, what, three weeks? A month? Do you really know that much about him?"
"I think I know more than you do. I also know that while you act as though you think I'm some phony, you're really scared that I'm not. You're afraid that I'll see into you, reveal some deep secret that you've been hiding." Guy nervously swallowed, and said nothing. "Don't worry, I haven't found it... yet."
"You haven't?" Guy apprehensively asked.
"No. There's this sort of... fog around you, it seems. You're very, very mysterious. Must be why all the girls swoon over you." Guy blushed a little, and Melinda just rolled her eyes. "Plus, I'm not in the business of revealing secrets. Otherwise you'd know about Chris."
"Mel," Chris mumbled. "You said you wouldn't talk about that anymore."
"Sorry. There's nothing for you to worry about anyway, Chris. Even if your feelings aren't returned, everything will turn out fine."
"They're not returned?" Chris asked, a rather obvious hint of sadness in his tone.
"I don't know about that," Melinda said, shaking her head. "It's hard to tell. This... person... seems a bit confused to me. And rather oblivious."
"Oh." Melinda sighed and sat down beside Chris.
"Tell him, he's not going to get it on his own," she whispered. "If he likes you back, good. If he doesn't, his loss."
"Easier said than done," Chris whispered back.
"Yeah, spout cliches at me. That'll help." Chris twisted his mouth in frustration, and Melinda said, "Listen, you might not have a lot of time left here. I'm trying to help you as quickly as I can, but I can't guarantee you'll make it. If you die..."
"He'll never know," Chris finished in a hoarse whisper, his mouth consistently increasing in dryness. "I want to tell him, I really do."
"Then tell him." With that, Melinda walked back over to where Guy was seated. "I will find out, you know that right?" she told him. "I always find out."
Guy didn't respond, instead he just stared at her, shooting hatred with his eyes. She glanced around at Chris, Will, and Jonny, then left without saying anything else.
"Guy, why do you have to be such a prick?" Will spat. "Melinda knows what she's doing."
Guy looked at the other men with apologetic eyes, but still remained silent. He stood up, walked over to Chris, said, "I'm sorry, man," then patted his shoulder and exited the room.
"Seriously, what is his problem?" Will asked. Jonny looked to him, and shook his head.
"Leave him alone. This situation is tough, we all have to deal with it in our own way," he told Will.
"Yeah, well, he should learn to deal with it in a way that's a little less insensitive." Then, as he looked over at Chris, he noticed something not-so-peachy about him. His eyes were wide, and his face was extremely gaunt. "Chris, are you OK?"
When Chris didn't answer, the other two men rushed over to his side. Will placed a hand on Chris's arm, and felt that it was dead cold. He uselessly snapped his fingers in Chris's face, until Jonny smacked his hand away.
"Stop, that's not gonna help," he said. Then he leaned close to Chris, anxiously examining him. He reached out and touched Chris's neck to find a pulse. "His heart seems to be fine."
Just then, a huge gust of air was inhaled by Chris, and some of the color began to return to his face. He blinked several times before staring questioningly at Jonny and Will.
"What are you guys doing?" he asked.
"Chris, you just had some sort of, like... I don't know, what would you call it?" Jonny asked, turning to Will.
"You were out of it, man," Will said. "It was scary."
"I don't feel any different," Chris noted. "Are you guys sure you're not just imagining things? Or lying to me?"
"Chris, why would we lie?" Will asked. But he looked at Chris, and could see the fear leaking through his eyes. "I can't imagine how frightening this is for you."
"I don't want to die," Chris muttered.
"And we don't want you to die," Jonny said. Then, for everyone's sake, he added, "You wont die. Everything will work out. You'll be safe, just watch."
Chris looked up at Jonny and soaked in the image. He hoped Jonny was right, but he had a feeling that he wasn't. No matter how hard he tried, he just could not be optimistic. He knew the others felt the same, too. Not one of them actually believed that it would work out, they just hoped in fear.
-
Melinda worked for hours and hours, barely getting any sleep, trying to put everything together. She was sure that A.Q.F. meant something, not just random letters initialing someone's name. Her senses told her that whoever was after Chris was someone who was close to him, though not necessarily his friend. Just someone who knew more about him than any stranger would. She toyed with the idea that perhaps the assassin was some deranged stalker, but deep down she knew it wasn't right.
She scribbled down all sorts of numbers and letters on what seemed like hundreds of sheets of paper. Nothing seemed to fit, though. And she couldn't stop thinking about Guy. Those big, dark brown eyes of his that hid a thousand secrets from the world. He was certainly the most handsome man she'd ever seen. She thought he might be gentle underneath his rough exterior.
She found herself absentmindedly doodling on the papers that were supposed to contain her work. Guy Berryman. Melinda Berryman. It sounded nice. There was something that told her not to feel that way, though. Not because her client was his friend, but because there were some sort of complications. She and Guy wouldn't actually work together. But he was so beautiful.
Suddenly, it hit her. Out of nowhere, the identity of the unknown killer was thrust into the front of her mind. She looked down at her paper, filled with drawings and writings, and was saddened by what she saw.
-
A few days after the incident with Chris, the band were sitting in the Bakery once more, waiting for Melinda. She said she had some big news that she needed to tell them. They were all sitting in various seats around the room when Melinda arrived. Chris and Jonny were chatting in one corner of the room, Will was fixing his shoelaces, which had somehow come undone, and Guy was fidgeting in his chair.
"Gather 'round, everyone," Melinda said, and the men did as they were told. "I've got some very important news."
"Yeah, you said that on the phone," Guy bitterly remarked. "Can we get on with this?"
Melinda shot him a look of disgust, and said, "I know who A.Q.F. is."
"Who?" Chris immediately asked. Melinda didn't reply, but kept her gaze on Guy, whose fidgeting had gotten worse. "Melinda?"
"Some friend you are," she said to Guy.
"I don't know what you mean," he replied in a squeaky voice.
"Yes, you do."
"Can someone please explain what's going on?" Will asked. Melinda turned to face the other three.
"A.Q.F. Switch the first and last letters. F.Q.A. Go forward a letter each. G.R.B."
"That doesn't mean anything," Guy shouted. "You can't prove..." He looked around at Chris, Will, and Jonny, who were all staring at him in disbelief. "Chris..."
"She's right, isn't she?" Chris' voice cracked. "Guy, how could you?"
"Chris, I..." Guy stood up, as did the other three. He walked over to Chris and looked up at him. "I didn't want to, but..." He and Chris stared at each other for several moments, Guy very apologetic and Chris very confused, until Chris finally decided to speak.
"I thought you were my fr-"
"NOW!" Guy bellowed, and suddenly black smoke filled the room. There were confused shouts and dusty coughs from every direction. After a short while, the dark fog began to settle, and it appeared that Guy had vanished. But there was still a giant stream of smoke emanated from Chris's open mouth, and his eyes were rolled back into his head.
"What the fuck?!" Will shouted. Jonny and Melinda just stood, horrified at the sight of Chris. Not one of them had the slightest clue what was going on. He was just standing there, hands limp at his side, torso slanted forward, and knees slightly buckled. The smoke was gushing from him like some sort of beast trying to escape its human prison. Soon, the smoke stopped completely, and Chris let out an exasperated breath before falling to the ground and seizing.
"What should we do?" Jonny asked, kneeling beside Chris's thrashing body. He stared, frozen in uncertainty. "Oh my God."
"He's having a seizure, we need, like, a pillow or something to put under his head," Melinda spewed.
"Right. I'll go find something. Jonny, just stay with him. Melinda, call an ambulance." Melinda nodded, stared at Chris and Jonny for a moment, then ran to her purse and grabbed her cellphone.
-
"We're afraid we don't know what's wrong with him," the doctor told Will and Jonny. They were in the small hallway just outside of Chris's hospital room. The doctors had run their routine tests at first, then after they didn't find anything they ran some non-routine tests.
"You don't..." Jonny dumbly repeated. The doctor shook his head.
"And there's more. It seems that whatever is wrong with your friend is... um... How should I put this? S... supernatural."
"Are you sure?" Will asked.
"Quite sure. So, um, there's nothing really that we can do for him. We'll keep him here for one more day, then discharge him."
"Thank you," Jonny muttered. "Is it all right if we go in there?"
"He seems a bit tired, but you can certainly talk to him for a bit." The doctor looked at them with apologetic eyes, said, "I'm sorry we couldn't be of more help," then left. Jonny and Will walked into the room and over by Chris's bed.
"Hi, guys," Chris said as Jonny pulled a chair up next to him. "Do they know what's wrong with me?"
Jonny shook his head. "They said it was something supernatural."
"What?" Chris asked in disbelief, then started laughing. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. They're letting you out of here tomorrow."
Chris stopped laughing, and looked down at his lap. "Guy's gone, isn't he?" he quietly asked.
"Yeah," Jonny replied, reaching over and grabbing Chris's hand. "Listen, everything's gonna be fine, OK? We'll figure everything out."
Chris lay in silence, relishing the feeling of Jonny's hand, and tried to believe him, all the while mentally beating himself. This was another perfect moment to let Jonny know how he felt, but he couldn't do it. Instead, he just held his secret tight in his chest, and held Jonny's hand tight in his own.
After a few minutes, Jonny started to pull back. "Get some rest, Chris. You need it." Chris sleepily nodded, then shut his eyes and nuzzled the pillow beneath him. He could hear Jonny and Will stirring, some footsteps, and just before the door closed, Jonny said, "We'll be back tomorrow."
"I'll be here," Chris said through closed eyes.
"Will, you're coming with me," Jonny said once they were back in the hallway.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"My apartment," Jonny replied, and the two began to walk to the exit. "We've got some cleaning to do."
-
The next morning Jonny picked Chris up from the hospital. They rode mostly in silence back to Jonny's apartment.
"I have a surprise for you," Jonny said as they walked inside. "Come on." He led Chris down the hallway to the guest room. Through the open door, Chris could see that the stacks of papers and boxes had disappeared, and had been replaced with some of his things.
"Those are my clothes," Chris plainly stated. "And that's my guitar."
"Yeah, and this is your room," Jonny added. "You're staying here for now."
Chris turned to Jonny with a softened look. "You did all this for me?"
"Well, Will helped," Jonny said, shyly bowing his head. Chris threw his arms around him.
"Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah," Jonny dismissed, and place a hand on Chris's back. "You better keep it clean."
"Don't worry mum, I will," Chris laughed, until he realized how weird it was for him to call Jonny his mom. Then he just awkwardly pulled away and walked into the room. He continuously spun around, looking at everything. "It's missing something."
"What?" Jonny asked as he followed Chris in.
"I'm not sure, but it just feels like it's- OH MY GOD." Chris stopped dead in his tracks, his hands held out towards the wall behind the bed. "Big Mouth Billy Bass."
"Excuse me?"
"That's what's missing," he replied, jumping up on the bed and placing his hands on the wall. "Right here."
"What are you talking about?"
"Big Mouth Billy Bass," Chris repeated. Jonny just blankly stared at him, so he shouted, "The singing fish!!"
"You want one of those in here, really?" Jonny laughed. Chris looked at him with wide eyes.
"Jonny, it would be perfect."
"Yeah, OK," Jonny said before leaving the room. Chris narrowed his eyes at the echo of Jonny's presence in the door. He flopped down on the bed and thought about how perfect it really would be. He remembered when he had one a few years back. Then he remembered how he actually had gotten so sick of it after a while that he threw it out the window and nearly hit an old lady.
"Aw, Jonny's always right," he said, then hopped off the bed and ran into the other room.
Later that night, when Chris was trying to sleep, he heard a noise at his door. He tossed in the bed to find that Jonny was standing there, watching him. "Jonny?"
"Hi," Jonny said.
"Did you want something?"
"Uh, I was just wondering... " Jonny ruffled the back of his hair and walked closer to the bed. "Would it be all right if I slept in here with you?"
"Um..."
"It's just that I was worried about you, and I couldn't sleep, but it's OK, I can go back to my room an-" Jonny blurted before being interrupted by Chris.
"No, it's fine. You can sleep in here," Chris said, smiling, though his smile wasn't visible in the dark. He moved to make room, and a few moments later he felt the bed move as Jonny laid down. They were facing each other, though the room was so dark that it was almost impossible to see anything. "Jonny, everything really will be OK."
"It keeps getting harder to believe," Jonny said, and Chris imagined the pained look on his face. What he wouldn't give to be able to reach out to Jonny, to pull him close and hold him in his arms.
"I know, but you're the one who keeps saying it, and you're always right."
"I don't know about that," Jonny chuckled, and Chris shook his head.
"No, you are," Chris told him. "Like, earlier, the thing with the fish."
"The big... Bob... fish thing? What was that called?"
"Big Mouth Billy Bass," Chris rattled with impressive speed. "It would probably drive me crazy after a while... Jonny?"
"What?"
"Will I drive you crazy after a while, do you think?" Chris sincerely asked, but Jonny just laughed at him.
"I don't think so."
"Good," Chris said, and smiled again. "Now, I think it's time for bed. Goodnight, Jonny."
"Goodnight, Chris," Jonny replied, closing his eyes. Chris really did mean to go to sleep, too, but he ended up keeping his eyes open for a few more hours.
-
When Chris lifted his eyelids the next morning, he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Nothing around him looked familiar, and it wasn't that he just needed to get used to waking up in Jonny's guest bedroom; he wasn't in Jonny's apartment at all.
Yet, he was still laying in the bed, and Jonny was still beside him, sleeping peacefully. Chris had to put an end that.
"Jonny, wake up," Chris said, tapping Jonny lightly on the arm. "Jonny, please wake up."
"What is it?" Jonny asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Then he looked around. "Where are we?"
"I don't know," Chris replied. The closer he looked at his surroundings, the more he realized that there wasn't anything in the room besides the bed. Everything else was just painted on the walls. Chris got out of the bed and walked up to the nearest wall. He touched it, and found that the paint- or whatever it was- was still wet, and as he dragged his hand down, a trail of running colors followed. Then he looked over at the door. It was painted, too, and there was no real exit.
"We're trapped in here," Jonny said, having simultaneously made the same realization as Chris. He was also standing beside one of the walls, the same colorful liquid dripping from his hand.
"Wherever 'here' is," Chris said in hysteria. Suddenly, there was a massive boom of laughter from someone with a very deep voice, which caused both Chris and Jonny to look up. While the two were staring at the ceiling, a petite, dark-haired figure appeared in the corner of the room.
"Goodbye, Chris," Guy said, and everything seemed to slow down. Chris and Jonny looked at him, and he pulled out a sort of ray gun. Jonny threw himself in front of Chris, shouting, "NO!" as Guy skillfully aimed the gun. He didn't shoot, though; he wasn't after Jonny.
"How could I have not seen this?" said a voice, presumably the same one the laughter belonged to. Then another figure appeared, but it was not a man, or anything that Chris recognized, for that matter. It was a green-skinned thing, with gnarly teeth and ice blue hair. It was wearing what looked like a toga, and it's five feet were enclosed in black moccasins. He had appeared alongside Guy, but he immediately walked towards Chris and Jonny. "You two are in love. It's so obvious."
"What?" Jonny said, and Chris grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.
"You're in love with me?" he asked, a certain sparkle in his eyes. It almost immediately disappeared when Jonny shook his head.
"I don't think so," he honestly replied.
Chris looked down at the floor, and in a raspy voice he said, "So, when you held my hand in the hospital, you didn't feel anything? When we slept in the same bed together, you didn't feel anything?"
"You did?" Jonny asked, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion. Chris looked up at him, completely shattered. He'd never experienced such a feeling of rejection before. The massive laughter returned again.
"Oh, this is priceless!" the unidentified thing cackled. Jonny turned to face it, but Chris kept his teary eyes on Jonny. "So, he likes you, but you don't like him. Wonderful!"
"I don't see what's so wonderful about it," Chris muttered.
"Berryman, get over here," the unidentified thing ordered, and Guy slid up beside him.
"Yes, sir?"
"Take our friend, here," it said, pointing to Jonny, "to the spot. Wait for me."
"Yes, sir," Guy replied, bolting for Jonny. Jonny tried to move, but Guy was too fast for him, and as soon as Guy grabbed his arm they were gone. Chris stood in shock and watched the place where Jonny had been only moments before.
"Chris, Chris, Chris," the unidentified thing said. "Just the man I've been meaning to talk to."
"You want me dead," Chris bluntly said. "You hired Guy."
"I sure did. Well, I had one of my people talk to him. You know, can't be seen out in public like this," it laughed, gesturing to its body. "People would freak!"
Chris looked at the thing. "Why?"
"Why do I want to kill you?" it asked, and took Chris's non-reply as an affirmative answer. "You're the only thing that stands in my way."
"In your way to what?"
"Conquering this lovely planet you call Earth," it replied. "You see, I've spent my entire life- 622 years, mind you- planning and researching. All of my studies concluded that there would be only one man in the entire existence of humankind that could potentially stop me. And that's you."
"Why me?" Chris shrieked. "How would I-?"
"Dunno, really. For some reason, you posses something that's fatal to my plan. So, you have to die."
"What if I just let you conquer the world? Would you let me live then?" The thing shook its head.
"That wouldn't happen. Whatever it is about you would force you to stop me." The thing walked closer to Chris, stopping only a mere six inches away from him. "And we can't have that."
"You aren't going to hurt Jonny, are you?" Chris asked with sad eyes. Even though he'd been horribly rejected, he still felt deeply for Jonny. He even thought that he'd be OK with his own death, as long as Jonny was unharmed.
"I'd like to spare your friend. It's not in my nature to harm innocent beings. However, it could be necessary," the thing shrugged. "After all, it would kill you to see him hurt, wouldn't it?"
"He doesn't deserve it," Chris said. "Don't hurt him, please. Shoot me, stab me, rip my heart out, whatever you need to do. Just don't hurt him."
The unidentified thing just stared at Chris, observing every little detail of his expression. Then he started to laugh once more. "Oh, it's a good thing he doesn't feel the same about you, otherwise we'd have a problem, eh?" Chris said nothing, just stared back. "Well, it's time we leave this place, then, I suppose."
It reached out its hand, which Chris discovered was slimy and gross, and grabbed his arm. And just like that, they were gone.
-
Guy and Jonny were facing each other, seated in chairs placed inside a small, green room. They'd been there for nearly an hour, but neither had spoken. Guy was messing with his ray gun, and Jonny was staring at the floor.
"I know what you're thinking," Guy suddenly said, causing Jonny to look up. "How could I do this? ... I didn't want to- I never wanted to. I still don't want to."
"Then why are you?" Jonny bitterly said.
"I don't have a choice," Guy said, a hint of frustration in his voice.
"You don't have a choice?! You-"
"No, listen to me," Guy interrupted, his temper flaring. He saw that he had Jonny's attention, so he softened his tone a bit. "They did something to me, Jonny. I don't know what they did, but I can't think for myself most of the time. It's like I'm me, then suddenly I'm someone else, someone they've created, and I can't control my actions. I don't want to kill Chris, but I'm afraid that I might... and I wont even realize it." He leaned forward in his seat, and continued, "I already... those two times... I don't know, they must have had me plant something in him... "
"With the smoke?" Jonny asked.
"Yeah. I'm not sure how I did it, or what I did, but it was all me." Guy stared off at the wall behind Jonny, his eyes full of remorse.
"Why don't you get away from here, then?" Jonny suggested. "Leave these people."
"Jonny, that wont work. Whatever they did, they can control me from anywhere, and... and if I left, they'd probably find me. I don't know what they'd do then."
"Who are these people, anyway?" he asked.
Guy shook his head, "They're not people, they're aliens. I don't know what species they said they were; it's just a bunch of mumbo-jumbo to me. But they want to take over the planet, and from what I've gathered, Chris has some role in that."
"If they want to kill him, it can't be a good role, then. At least, not for them."
Guy nodded his head, then both men were silent for some time. Finally, he spoke again. "Listen, Jonny, I can't get out of here... but you can. If I tell you how, will you promise me you'll do it, and go somewhere safe?"
"Where's somewhere safe?" Jonny asked.
"I don't know, just find somewhere. Or, go see Will at least. Tell him what's going on. Will you do it?" Jonny nodded. "OK," Guy said, and he leaned forward and whispered the directions to Jonny.
-
"You're sure that's on tight enough?" the unidentified thing asked the female unidentified thing that was strapping Chris to a table.
"I'm not gonna escape," Chris said. "You don't have to worry."
"Eh, better safe than sorry," the thing replied. "Maureen, bring in our dear friend, Berryman, will you? I think he'd like to see this." The female thing nodded, and swiveled off to fetch Guy.
"Will it hurt?" Chris asked as the thing examined the ropes that bound him to the table.
"Probably," the thing honestly stated. "I wouldn't actually know."
"Oh." They sat in silence until Maureen returned, with a tired-looking Guy on her arm. He looked at Chris with a pain in his eyes, knowing very well that as soon as they wanted him to, he'd stop caring about his soon-to-be-dead friend. Chris saw the pain, saw his old friend being dragged unwillingly into the room to watch his death, but he couldn't bring himself to forgive Guy. Of course, he didn't know that it wasn't Guy's fault.
"Guy, you'd like to see your friend, yeah?" the thing laughed, and Maureen snobbishly joined in.
"Can we get this over with?" Chris whined. The thing stopped laughing, and shot a look at him.
"Ooh, impatient, are we?" he said. "Fine. Maureen, kill him."
Maureen released her hold on Guy, and walked over to the side of the table, where a control desk filled with hundreds of buttons was resting. She hit several buttons, but before her job was done, several bodies burst into the room.
"Is this a safe place?" Jonny asked Guy as he, Will, and Melinda ran in. All other heads in the room turned to them.
"No, not really!" Guy freaked.
"How did you all get here?" the thing asked, completely thrown off by the sudden appearance of this odd group.
"Guy told me how to get out, I just used the reverse to get back in," Jonny said.
"Berryman!" it shouted, and Guy cowered a little. Its nostrils flared, breath heavy, but it soon calmed down. "You'll be dealt with later. Maureen, finish up!"
"No!" Melinda yelled, running over to the table. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and composed herself. Then, in a strange, foreign accent, she chirped a mouthful of words that none of the humans in the room could understand. The unidentified things stood frozen as she spewed the words out. When she was finished, she collapsed her chest, trying to catch her breath.
Suddenly, Maureen changed from her green color to a sickly orange, her arms and legs swelling until she looked like an overblown balloon. Then she exploded, though strangely leaving absolutely no trace of her existence behind. Everyone turned their attention to the place where Maureen was once standing, completely shocked. The unidentified thing looked on in panic, knowing that a few moments later, the same fate would befall him. Sure enough, no more than twenty seconds after Maureen, the thing blew up and disappeared completely.
"What the hell did you just do?" Chris shrieked. Melinda ignored his question, but loosened the ropes and freed him from the table. She looked at him for a moment, then embraced him in a bone-crushing hug.
"I just saved your life, asshole, be grateful for once," she said, though with a hint of jest. Chris laughed and accepted her embrace.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"Sorry to hear about Jonny," she replied. "His loss, remember?"
"Yeah, his loss," Chris unconvincingly replied. She let go of him, then walked over by the other three men. Chris followed her, and gave a hug to both Guy and Will, but stopped in front of Jonny. "We should go home now."
"Listen, man, I'm really sorry," Jonny began, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.
"Don't be, it's not your fault," Chris said in a hoarse voice. "Can we go now?"
Jonny looked at him helplessly, and replied, "Yeah, let's go."
-
Things went back to normal in an oddly short amount of time. Chris had hastily moved his things back into his own apartment, but after only a few days the tension between he and Jonny dissipated. And, much to Chris's delight, Jonny didn't change the way he acted around him. They were still the best of friends, despite the unrequited love.
Of course, the press had a field day with the claims of supernatural attacks on Chris and a halted alien invasion, even suggesting that the singer had gone completely off his rocker. Eventually, it was all just passed off as a hoax, though the police records remained truthful.
One day, the five of them were all gathered in the Bakery, just hanging out. Melinda was a dear friend of theirs now, and since she had edged her way into their group, she began trying to edge her way into Guy's heart.
"Oh, I knew you weren't an evil man," she said, resting her hand on Guy's arm and pushing her body as close as she could into his. "You have such kind eyes."
Guy lapped up the attention, even though he honestly was not interested in her. Will, who was sitting right next to them, rolled his eyes in both disgust and jealousy. Not that he was really interested in her, either, he just wanted the female attention that Guy always received. Jonny was the only one who had any interest in her, but even then he only thought she was pretty.
And of course, Chris was sitting off in one corner, watching Jonny. He'd long given up trying to dress fancy, and had returned to wearing his Barack to the Future shirt, though he'd left the pinstriped pants on.
Yeah, everything was back to normal.
