Life Is Just A Ferris Wheel - Part 3
Part Two
“Hello?” Jon’s pretty much still asleep when he picks up the phone; he rolls over and looks at the empty space in his bed that Brandon normally occupies. He went back to his apartment the day after they came home early from the bar and had spent the last couple of days with Spencer and Ryan.
“Are you doing anything this afternoon?”
“What? Tom?” Jon sits up in bed and rubs at his eyes, trying to clear the sleep.
“Are you doing anything this afternoon?” Tom sounds demanding now and Jon answers no. “I got a gig taking pictures of the festival that’s happening in Millennium Park today but it’s too big for just me to do. I get $1000 and if you hoist your ass out of bed and get over here in the next forty five minutes, I will split it with you but you gotta get your gear and get out here now.”
“Forty five minutes. I’ll meet you at the Cloud Gate?” Jon’s awake now and hears Tom’s confirmation before hanging up and moving off the bed. The only thing Jon was going to do that day was take some soup over to Brendon because he was feeling shitty again and he was trapped in his room, but that could wait until later that night when the extra money was sitting in his pocket.
Jon runs around the apartment, getting his camera equipment together and feeding the cats before stumbling down the stairs and out into the sunshine. He starts the walk to Millennium Park, wondering if it was quicker to grab a cab or to just keep walking. In the end he just keeps walking and hopes that he makes it in time.
Jon reaches the Cloud Gate with two minutes to spare and starts setting up his camera while Tom explains what they need to do and then sends him on his way with a smile and a clap on the back.
Midway through the afternoon Jon is sitting in the shade of a tree with Tom taking a break. They’re talking about music and Tom is poking at the sunburnt skin on Jon’s arm when his phone goes off in his pocket.
“Hello?”
“Jon, it’s Spencer, you need to come down to Saint Anthony’s hospital, its Brendon.”
“What’s wrong?” Jon feels the panic rise in his throat and fight viscously against the urge to throw everything on the ground and run.
“Just get down here okay?” There is an edge of hysteria to Spencer’s voice and it doesn’t do anything to qualm Jon’s fears.
“Yeah, okay.” Jon hangs up the phone and shoves it into his pocket as he stands up and starts to put his camera back into his bag and collects the different lenses that he and Tom had been looking at.
“Jon what’s wrong you’re white as a sheet.” Tom’s looking up at him with concern and Jon rams his fingers through his hair.
“That was Spencer; Brendon is in the hospital... I have to go. I’m sorry I just... I have to go. I need to bring my stuff home and then I have to get to St. Anthony’s.” Jon stops and stoops down again as he starts shoving lenses into the bags not really thinking about what he was doing.
“Whoa, okay Jon. Jon, stop!” Tom puts his hand over Jon’s to stop them and keep Jon from damaging his equipment. Jon closes his eyes and pulled in a deep shaky breath. “Give me your keys and leave your gear. I will take care of everything and then I’ll meet you at the hospital okay?” Tom’s voice is calm and Jon nods, fishing the keys from his pocket he hands them to Tom with a shaking hand. “Now go. I’ll see you soon okay?”
“Yeah.” Jon runs across the park to Michigan Avenue and hails a cab. He climbs in and tells the driver where to go before pressing his head into the headrest counting to 100. Twice. Inhaling and exhaling on each number trying to suppress the panic that is clawing its way up from the pit of his stomach to take over his chest, pushing against his lungs and making it hard to breathe.
Jon throws his money at the cab driver when they get to the hospital, not waiting for change and runs to the front desk.
“I need the room for Brendon Urie.” The nurse looks up at him and gives him the once over.
“Are you family?” Jon’s heart lurches and he shakes his head. What if she doesn’t let him in?
“He’s my boyfriend.” Jon feels somewhat juvenile saying it so simply like that but the nurse nods and types something into the computer.
“He’s in room 4066, go up the elevator to the fourth floor and take a left.”
Jon takes off from the desk at a run, opting not to take the elevator and instead bounds up the stairs taking them two at a time. He’s slightly winded when he reaches the hallway and turns left to see Spencer sitting in a chair outside of a room with his head in his hands.
“Spencer!” Jon calls out, and sees Spencer’s head shoot up, his eyes bloodshot and his face pale.
He stands up and walks over to Jon, stopping him before he gets to Brendon’s room. He reaches out and draws Jon into a hug before pulling away, still keeping one hand on Jon’s shoulder. Jon can see the panic and misery that are raging behind Spencer’s eyes and feels his own panic closing in tighter around his ribcage.
“Spencer just tell me what happened.” Jon pleads and Spencer closes his eyes and draws in a deep shaky breath.
“Ok... you know how he’s been like bedridden with that fucking headache. Last night he was feeling a little bit better and he came downstairs to watch a movie with Ryan and me. When it finished, at around one, he stood up to go to bed and he just kind of stood there for a second before falling sideways, he was out cold.” Spencer stops and swallows hard, his fingers starting to dig into Jon’s shoulder. “We took him into the hospital because we couldn’t get him to wake up all the way and we just didn’t know what to do. He was still half asleep and he couldn’t even say the words to make a sentence to tell us what happened.
“We got him here and they started doing x-rays and cat scans and Jon we didn’t think it was anything, just like fatigue or I swear that I would have called you sooner. We called as soon as we knew.” Jon can see the fear in Spencer’s eyes finally winning out as they shine with unshed tears.
“Spencer please, just tell me.” It’s hard for him to breathe.
“Last year when Brendon first got the headaches he came in and got it looked at, they said that it was possible but there was nothing there, so he just went home and tried to forget about it.”
“Spencer, please.”
“Jon it’s a tumour, that’s why he’s been getting headaches.” Jon’s world closes in around him and he sways on his feet, grabbing at Spencer’s shoulder.
“They can just take it out.” Jon rushes the words as he starts to hyperventilate and Spencer shakes his head.
“It’s right at the base of his skull... there are other options that they can try but chances are really slim Jon. There is a good possibility that we’re going to lose him.” Jon’s knees start to give.
“I need to sit down.” Apparently sitting down is going happen right here, right now as Jon sinks to the floor of the hallway.
Jon leans forwards, putting his head between his knees and taking deep breaths, trying to make the floor tiles between his feet come back into focus. Spencer squats down beside him and starts to rub his hand up and down Jon’s back, saying something that sounds soothing, but Jon can’t make out any words as his heart beat drums in his ears.
“Can I see him?” Jon looks up to Spencer whose chin jerks down.
“Yeah... come on.” Spencer helps Jon to his feet and brings him over to the room that he had been sitting in front of.
Jon walks through the door and it feels like there is an elephant sitting on his chest. Brendon looks tiny in the hospital bed; he is paler than Jon has ever seen him and the freckles that you normally can’t see stand out in sharp relief. His eyes are darkly bruised and there is a series of tubes running up his arms and into his nose. He hadn’t looked anywhere near this bad when Jon had seen him a few days earlier.
Ryan is sitting beside him in an armchair pulled right up to the side of the bed. He’s bent over with his forehead against the hospital blanket, one hand clutching at Brendon’s while the other grips the rail of the bed so hard his knuckles are white.
Jon walks the rest of the way into the room and sits down across from Ryan, hands in his lap for fear that he will upset the tubes. Ryan’s head snaps up when Jon’s chair creaks and after staring at Jon for a minute he nods and put his forehead back down on the edge of the bed. When Spencer pulls a chair up beside Jon’s he tentatively reaches out and brushes his fingers across Brendon’s arm. A heavy sigh escapes Jon and he leans forward, head falling into his hands.
==========
Jon quickly discovers that even when he is in the hospital with Brendon; the pictures still show up, appearing on the table that holds the lamp beside Brendon’s bed. The first morning that a picture shows up, Jon feels like crying before he picks it up and shoves it to the bottom of his bag, promptly forgetting about it. He does the same thing for the next four pictures.
==========
A month later, Brendon undergoes the first attempt to remove the tumour and they manage to remove a portion of it with some complicated sounding type of surgery that makes Jon’s head spin and stomach ache just thinking about it. But it’s a good week later and Brendon’s already looking better. He still has tubes sticking out of everywhere and he’s a lot skinnier than he was when he went in, but there’s colour back in his skin and he’s smiling again, making jokes about the bald spot on the back of his head and the hospital food.
Jon’s sitting in the bed with Brendon, arms wrapped around him and watching TV when Tom walks through the door with a bag from the video rental place near his apartment. He takes one look at them and grins before fishing out his camera and snapping a picture of them smiling back at him.
“I bring offerings!” Tom waves the bag and smiles brightly. “I got like four movies, I brought your pillow from your place and then I bought contraband.” He tosses the bag of movies onto the chair and sets his backpack on the end of the bed, rifling through it and pulling out Brendon’s pillow, tossing it to him before diving back in and pulling out more items. “I brought you ‘real’ food... I have Jolly Ranchers and Doritos and a hot dog from Hot Doug’s. I think that last one might be a little squished but even then I figured then it would be better than the hospital food.” Brendon laughs and reaches out to take the hot dog from Tom. Closing his eyes he takes the first bite and sighs happily. Rolling his head to the side, he gazes at Tom, who has taken a seat on the bed.
“I love you. Sorry Jon, but you have been temporarily replaced.” Tom starts laughing and Jon just kisses the top of Brendon’s head while he finishes his hot dog. “What movies did you bring?” He finishes his food and starts straining to see the bag at the end of the bed, curiosity written across his face.
“The first season of The Office, Bride Wars... shut up Jon, don’t laugh, you like Anne Hathaway too, Frost Nixon, Yes Man, Death Race and Hamlet 2.” Tom pulls the DVD’s out one by one and tosses them on the bed, letting Brendon have his pick.
“Let’s go with Hamlet 2, ‘cause I haven’t seen it yet. Ryan won’t rent it because it ‘be-smirches the good name of Hamlet’ or something like that... Spencer and I thought that he was joking at first but he wasn’t.” Tom chuckles and stands up to put the DVD into the player, pulling the remote from the wall where it was stuck there with Velcro, Brendon sighs and sinks into Jon’s side getting ready for the movie.
==========
Jon wakes with a start and finds himself staring at Spencer who is looming above him. Jon stretches in his chair and automatically looks over to Brendon. Lately he had taken to sleeping with Brendon in the hospital bed after the nurses had done their last round of the night, but since Brendon had undergone his second surgery a few days before, he’d been asked to give him a little space as he slept, to avoid disrupting any of the tubes.
“Jon. Go home, sleep in your own bed and take a shower. Come back in the morning, he is doing fine. If anything changes I promise I will call you.” Jon starts to protest but Spencer gives him that look, you know the one, and he nods standing up and stretching, his back and shoulders popping as he lets out a satisfied sigh.
By the time Jon crawls into his bed after a long, hot shower, he can barely keep his eyes open and he’s asleep before his head even hits the pillows.
==========
When Jon wakes up there is a picture sitting on his bedside table. He closes his eyes and wills it to go away, but when he opens them again, the picture is still there. He leans forward to look at it more closely, as his vision tunnels and he feels his world close in around him.
The picture is the one that Tom took of him and Brendon, from the day that he brought the movies but Jon is absent from the photo. You can see Brendon leaning to his left and his smile is bright, his hand curled in his lap where in the original picture Jon’s hand was clutching his. Jon tries to draw in a breath but only manages shallow pants that don’t seem to bring oxygen into his lungs. The world seems to spin and his hand shakes violently as he reaches out to pick up the picture. Jon’s hand stops in front on the picture and he can’t force himself to pick it up as his vision swims and the tears spill over.
Rolling away from the picture Jon sees the wall with all the familiar faces and he is over whelmed with a feeling that he can’t name as either grief or as rage, but there is something... something missing in his chest. Jon throws the blankets off and strides towards the wall tearing the pictures off. Some come off cleanly while other smiling faces crumple underneath his hands; and some come away from the wall leaving the thumbtacks, the corner of the picture still attached.
By the time most of the pictures are off the wall and strewn about the floor of Jon’s bedroom there are silent tears coursing down his cheeks and his breath is hitching in his throat. He starts to feel the paper cuts that crisscross his hands and his mind starts working again, the words ‘Brendon’ and ‘gone’ spinning in circles around his head as he sinks down against the wall.
He hits the floor and slumps forward, hugging his knees to his chest. A picture flutters down from the wall and lands on top of his phone as it starts vibrating across the floor. He stares at the picture of Rachel as it sits on top of his phone, the ringtone for Spencer’s number blaring out of the tinny speakers.
Jon kicks out his foot, sending the picture fluttering and his phone skidding under the bed.
“Jon?” Tom’s voice sounds from the front of Jon’s apartment but he makes no movement from his spot curled up on the floor. “Jon!” Tom’s voice sounds closer and Jon closes his eyes as he hears Tom’s footsteps approaching his bedroom door. Tom appears at the door and he hears him sigh as he moves forwards to squat down beside him, hand hovering over his side. “Jon, Spencer’s been trying to get a hold of you. Brendon... Brendon’s...” Jon could hear Tom’s voice tighten and he pulls in a shaky breath.
“I know...” Jon’s voice is low and hoarse. “Look on the bedside table.” Jon hears Tom stand up and move to the bed. He hears the noise of the picture sliding against the frame it was resting against, and he hears Tom’s intake of breath.
“You mean...” His sentence trails off but Jon understands and nods, his whole body feeling numb. “Holy shit.” Tom sinks to the floor beside Jon as he squeezes his eyes closed.
“I don’t want to be the person to help him... I can’t do it Tom.” Jon’s voice breaks halfway through and the sentence ends in a whisper. He swallows hard against the lump in his throat and the tears in his eyes, when Tom leans forwards and pulls him into a hug.
“I’ll be there okay... I’m not going anywhere.”
Within an hour, Jon is walking through the hospital hallways towards Brendon’s room. When he gets there, he turns the corner to see Ryan and Spencer on either side of Brendon with their heads pressed against the bed and their hand clasped together against Brendon’s thigh. Brendon’s standing at the end of the bed, staring at them and staring at himself.
Jon draws in a shuddering breath, fighting down the rising panic before stepping forwards and touching Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon spins around when the spark went from Jon to him; the one that shoots up Jon’s arm seems to die as soon as it reaches his chest.
“Hi.” The word is small and almost a sob.
“How can you see me? They can’t... how can you?” Brendon sounds terrified and Jon’s heart breaks even more.
“It’s just what I do... I help people cross over, Bren. All those pictures on my wall are of people that I’ve helped. I can’t explain it anymore than that because I don’t know anymore about it. It’s just... who I am.” Jon wants to smile at him, make him understand and make him accept it.
“All those times you disappeared?” Jon nods and fights hard against the lump in his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have believed me, if I had told you?” Jon shakes his head when Brendon starts to speak. “You in all honesty would have believed me if I told you that every single face on my wall was someone who died? That they had all died and a picture magically showed up on my nightstand, and I had gone to random locations all over Chicago to bring them to a place in front of the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier, where a bridge would materialize out of thin air and end in a clearing in a forest with the stars spinning over head?” Brendon closes his mouth and shakes his head no. “You would have thought that I was crazy and I couldn’t risk it. I would have lost you and I just... I just thought that it was easier, for both of us, to just keep you apart from it.” Jon’s hands drop to his sides and he just stares at Brendon, waiting for him to respond.
“So is that why you’re here? To bring me to this bridge?” Jon nods and watches something ignite behind Brendon’s eyes. “What if I refuse to go? What happens then? What if I just want to stay right here? Right here, where you can still see, and hear and feel me.” Jon shakes his head.
“I have no clue Bren; no one has ever refused help before.” The tears that have been building since Jon walked into the room finally spill over, hot and embarrassing against his cheeks. He holds his hand out to Brendon, chewing on his lip and prepared to plead. “This will be the hardest thing that I have ever done, but please let me help you. Please.”
When Brendon nods, he pushes Jon’s hand aside and steps up to his chest, pulling him close and pressing his lips hard against Jon’s, his own tears burning paths down his cheeks. Jon closes his eyes and he presses into Brendon, one hand moving to clutch desperately at his hip and the other burying in his hair as he pulls him closer, wanting nothing more than to just mesh together and make everything go away.
Brendon finally pulls away, and a small sob escapes from Jon’s lips, uncontrolled. When Brendon takes his hand, he pulls in a deep shaky breath, and starts to walk with Brendon towards Navy Pier.
They arrive at the Ferris Wheel after walking through the streets of Chicago unseen, hands clasped tightly, and silent except for their shallow breathing and the soft slap of their shoes against the sidewalk. When the door materializes slowly before them, Jon can feel his grip tighten on Brendon’s hand, until the tips of his fingers go numb. He would feel bad except Brendon is doing the same thing.
When the trees materialize around the clearing it all looks greener than it ever has before and instead of dancing across the sky like they normally did the stars were frozen in place. Jon watches as a boy walks out of the trees and Brendon gently says ‘Shane.’ Jon recognizes the name as a boy that Brendon had known in high school, who had died when he was hit by a drunk driver.
Brendon turns to face Jon and squeezes his hand tighter, placing the other against Jon cheek. He leans forwards and presses his forehead against Jon’s.
“I love you.” Brendon whispers the words and lets go of Jon’s hand, turning to walk towards the bridge. Jon watches, frozen, as Brendon walks slowly over the bridge. When he gets onto the grass he turns around and smiles at Jon, tears tracking their way down his face. Without consciously telling his body to move, Jon finds himself running up to the bridge and over it, slowing as he reaches the other side.
He stops with his toes just touching the grass and stares at Brendon.
“I can’t.” Jon shakes his head and stares at Brendon, this time consciously willing himself to lift his foot and place it down on the grass, whatever may come from it.
“JON!” He hears Tom’s voice calling his name, just as he is about to set his foot down. Brendon smiles gently at him and shakes his head.
“You can. Now go.” Brendon reaches out again and pressed his hand to Jon’s cheek for the last time. Jon can smell the pine from the trees and the scent of Brendon’s bed. He can feel the hot, dry Nevada air on his skin and feel the rush of a live show thrumming through his veins. Jon’s feeling everything that is Brendon and he memorizes every part of it.
Never taking his eyes off Brendon, he steps backwards and walks slowly off the bridge to where Tom is standing. As the meadow disintegrates, Brendon lifts his hand and waves, a smile curving his lips. When the door clicks shut, and the world shifts back to its rightful place, Jon whimpers and sags into Tom’s arms as he comes back to the rest of the world.
==========
Jon wakes up on the morning of the funeral with a fierce ache in his chest that is only increased when he sees the picture of an old man sitting on his bedside table. Squeezing his eyes closed and tuning away from the picture, Jon starts getting ready to leave.
When he’s dressed in his black clothing, he walks to the front door and puts his hand on the door knob, pausing. Sighing, Jon lets go of the handle and jogs back to his room to grab the picture of the man, shoving it into his pocket with another picture, one that would serve another purpose.
==========
After the service, and after everyone had left, Jon stands in front of Brendon’s casket and pulls one of the pictures out of his pocket. Tom had taken it just before Jon and Brendon had been dating for a year. Brendon’s lying on Jon’s ratty couch, hand curled protectively over Dylan. Jon was wedged on his side between Brendon and the back of the couch, his hand splayed across Brendon’s stomach as all three members of the picture slept soundly.
Reaching forward Jon sets the picture on top of the casket, before letting his chin fall against his chest as he blinks hard against the burning in his eyes, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the tightness in his throat. He turns from Brendon’s grave and walks towards the car where Tom is waiting for him. When he’s a few feet in front of Tom he pulls the other picture out of his pocket and hands it to the other man.
“That came this morning... will you come with me?” Tom looks at the picture and then back up to Jon, nodding and whispering ‘yeah.’
Jon nods at Tom and moves to lean against the car beside him with his face turned upwards to the sky, letting out a shaky breath as the sun warms his face.
Epilogue
Jon wakes up on the anniversary of Brendon’s death to a picture of a young boy sitting on his bedside table. He sighs and reaches out to grab the picture, rolling over and planting his feet on the ground. He rubs a hand across his beard and looks up at the wall where his pictures used to be. It’s empty of pictures now and a slate gray color with large white prints of Chicago silkscreened onto the wall, just like the rest of the room. He leans over and tugs the photo box out from underneath his bed and sits it beside him.
When he picked the photos up off the floor a year ago some of them were too tattered to hang back up on the wall. Jon had tried to smooth out the wrinkles and then after he shed a few tears for the lost pictures he bought the photo box for them and put them in chronological order, tucking the box underneath his bed. Jon sits today’s picture on the lid of the box as he stands up and starts to get ready.
When he walks out the door half an hour later he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and dials Tom’s number.
“Hello?” Tom’s yelling over background noise when he picks up the phone.
“Tom! Where the fuck are you?” Jon’s laughing as he hears Tom scuffle with someone before a door opens and slams shut.
“In the fucking ass crack of New York State near Canada, fighting with the fucking people who let us crash at their place last night, they stole some of Bill’s shit out of his bag while he slept.” Tom’s voice drops a little. “Are you okay? I know what today is dude...”
“I’m okay so far... but then again I’ve only been awake for a half an hour. When are you getting home?” Jon shifts the phone to hold it between his shoulder and his ear while he pulls out the picture to look at the background, recognizing it as Pierce Street in Wicker Park, he took pictures for a guy who was selling his house earlier on in the year, and on closer inspection Jon catches a glimpse of a street number.
“I should be getting in at like three, are we still on for dinner or did something come up?” Jon can hear Tom open the door of their van and rifle through something before he starts cursing. “Sorry, Butcher’s bag fucking bit me, swear to god.” Jon shakes his head and can picture Tom stooped over in the van, kicking at Butcher’s duffle bag.
“Yeah we’re still on. I got a picture so I might be a little bit late and I just wanted to give you a heads up.” Jon tucks the picture back into his pocket and walks towards the train platform.
“Okay, I’ll see you tonight then... If we’re not all thrown in jail by then for beating these people to a pulp.” Jon can hear the eye roll and half smirk in Tom’s voice before he says goodbye and shoves the phone back into his pocket.
The spring sun is starting its downward arch in the sky when he finally gets Connor to the bridge.
Connor drags Jon across the bridge, right to the grass before he finally lets go of his hand and runs over to his grandfather. Jon smiles and squats down where he is standing, watching as they disappear into the trees. Jon stays where he is and watches the stars spinning over head. When he stands to leave a movement on the edge of the trees catches his eye and he looks closer.
When the figure steps out from behind the tree Jon’s breath whooshes out of his lungs and he sways on his feet.
Brendon is standing about a foot into the clearing, smiling and waving shyly. Jon feels a smile spreading across his face as the familiar ache in his chest starts again and a fresh wave of want and loneliness washes over him. He lifts his hand up and waves tentatively back at Brendon.
Brendon beams and turns his face up to the night sky and even at this distance Jon thinks that he can see tears tracking down Brendon’s face. Jon mimics Brendon’s movement and turns his face up to the sky where on his side of the bridge the sun is still up.
He inhales deeply and his throat tightens even more. When he pulls in another deep breath he swears that he can taste the desert in the air.
Enhanced Content:
Fanart: Brendon is laying on Jon’s ratty couch, hand curled protectively around Dylan. by _afterism
Fanmix: So It Goes by thimbledkisses
“Hello?” Jon’s pretty much still asleep when he picks up the phone; he rolls over and looks at the empty space in his bed that Brandon normally occupies. He went back to his apartment the day after they came home early from the bar and had spent the last couple of days with Spencer and Ryan.
“Are you doing anything this afternoon?”
“What? Tom?” Jon sits up in bed and rubs at his eyes, trying to clear the sleep.
“Are you doing anything this afternoon?” Tom sounds demanding now and Jon answers no. “I got a gig taking pictures of the festival that’s happening in Millennium Park today but it’s too big for just me to do. I get $1000 and if you hoist your ass out of bed and get over here in the next forty five minutes, I will split it with you but you gotta get your gear and get out here now.”
“Forty five minutes. I’ll meet you at the Cloud Gate?” Jon’s awake now and hears Tom’s confirmation before hanging up and moving off the bed. The only thing Jon was going to do that day was take some soup over to Brendon because he was feeling shitty again and he was trapped in his room, but that could wait until later that night when the extra money was sitting in his pocket.
Jon runs around the apartment, getting his camera equipment together and feeding the cats before stumbling down the stairs and out into the sunshine. He starts the walk to Millennium Park, wondering if it was quicker to grab a cab or to just keep walking. In the end he just keeps walking and hopes that he makes it in time.
Jon reaches the Cloud Gate with two minutes to spare and starts setting up his camera while Tom explains what they need to do and then sends him on his way with a smile and a clap on the back.
Midway through the afternoon Jon is sitting in the shade of a tree with Tom taking a break. They’re talking about music and Tom is poking at the sunburnt skin on Jon’s arm when his phone goes off in his pocket.
“Hello?”
“Jon, it’s Spencer, you need to come down to Saint Anthony’s hospital, its Brendon.”
“What’s wrong?” Jon feels the panic rise in his throat and fight viscously against the urge to throw everything on the ground and run.
“Just get down here okay?” There is an edge of hysteria to Spencer’s voice and it doesn’t do anything to qualm Jon’s fears.
“Yeah, okay.” Jon hangs up the phone and shoves it into his pocket as he stands up and starts to put his camera back into his bag and collects the different lenses that he and Tom had been looking at.
“Jon what’s wrong you’re white as a sheet.” Tom’s looking up at him with concern and Jon rams his fingers through his hair.
“That was Spencer; Brendon is in the hospital... I have to go. I’m sorry I just... I have to go. I need to bring my stuff home and then I have to get to St. Anthony’s.” Jon stops and stoops down again as he starts shoving lenses into the bags not really thinking about what he was doing.
“Whoa, okay Jon. Jon, stop!” Tom puts his hand over Jon’s to stop them and keep Jon from damaging his equipment. Jon closes his eyes and pulled in a deep shaky breath. “Give me your keys and leave your gear. I will take care of everything and then I’ll meet you at the hospital okay?” Tom’s voice is calm and Jon nods, fishing the keys from his pocket he hands them to Tom with a shaking hand. “Now go. I’ll see you soon okay?”
“Yeah.” Jon runs across the park to Michigan Avenue and hails a cab. He climbs in and tells the driver where to go before pressing his head into the headrest counting to 100. Twice. Inhaling and exhaling on each number trying to suppress the panic that is clawing its way up from the pit of his stomach to take over his chest, pushing against his lungs and making it hard to breathe.
Jon throws his money at the cab driver when they get to the hospital, not waiting for change and runs to the front desk.
“I need the room for Brendon Urie.” The nurse looks up at him and gives him the once over.
“Are you family?” Jon’s heart lurches and he shakes his head. What if she doesn’t let him in?
“He’s my boyfriend.” Jon feels somewhat juvenile saying it so simply like that but the nurse nods and types something into the computer.
“He’s in room 4066, go up the elevator to the fourth floor and take a left.”
Jon takes off from the desk at a run, opting not to take the elevator and instead bounds up the stairs taking them two at a time. He’s slightly winded when he reaches the hallway and turns left to see Spencer sitting in a chair outside of a room with his head in his hands.
“Spencer!” Jon calls out, and sees Spencer’s head shoot up, his eyes bloodshot and his face pale.
He stands up and walks over to Jon, stopping him before he gets to Brendon’s room. He reaches out and draws Jon into a hug before pulling away, still keeping one hand on Jon’s shoulder. Jon can see the panic and misery that are raging behind Spencer’s eyes and feels his own panic closing in tighter around his ribcage.
“Spencer just tell me what happened.” Jon pleads and Spencer closes his eyes and draws in a deep shaky breath.
“Ok... you know how he’s been like bedridden with that fucking headache. Last night he was feeling a little bit better and he came downstairs to watch a movie with Ryan and me. When it finished, at around one, he stood up to go to bed and he just kind of stood there for a second before falling sideways, he was out cold.” Spencer stops and swallows hard, his fingers starting to dig into Jon’s shoulder. “We took him into the hospital because we couldn’t get him to wake up all the way and we just didn’t know what to do. He was still half asleep and he couldn’t even say the words to make a sentence to tell us what happened.
“We got him here and they started doing x-rays and cat scans and Jon we didn’t think it was anything, just like fatigue or I swear that I would have called you sooner. We called as soon as we knew.” Jon can see the fear in Spencer’s eyes finally winning out as they shine with unshed tears.
“Spencer please, just tell me.” It’s hard for him to breathe.
“Last year when Brendon first got the headaches he came in and got it looked at, they said that it was possible but there was nothing there, so he just went home and tried to forget about it.”
“Spencer, please.”
“Jon it’s a tumour, that’s why he’s been getting headaches.” Jon’s world closes in around him and he sways on his feet, grabbing at Spencer’s shoulder.
“They can just take it out.” Jon rushes the words as he starts to hyperventilate and Spencer shakes his head.
“It’s right at the base of his skull... there are other options that they can try but chances are really slim Jon. There is a good possibility that we’re going to lose him.” Jon’s knees start to give.
“I need to sit down.” Apparently sitting down is going happen right here, right now as Jon sinks to the floor of the hallway.
Jon leans forwards, putting his head between his knees and taking deep breaths, trying to make the floor tiles between his feet come back into focus. Spencer squats down beside him and starts to rub his hand up and down Jon’s back, saying something that sounds soothing, but Jon can’t make out any words as his heart beat drums in his ears.
“Can I see him?” Jon looks up to Spencer whose chin jerks down.
“Yeah... come on.” Spencer helps Jon to his feet and brings him over to the room that he had been sitting in front of.
Jon walks through the door and it feels like there is an elephant sitting on his chest. Brendon looks tiny in the hospital bed; he is paler than Jon has ever seen him and the freckles that you normally can’t see stand out in sharp relief. His eyes are darkly bruised and there is a series of tubes running up his arms and into his nose. He hadn’t looked anywhere near this bad when Jon had seen him a few days earlier.
Ryan is sitting beside him in an armchair pulled right up to the side of the bed. He’s bent over with his forehead against the hospital blanket, one hand clutching at Brendon’s while the other grips the rail of the bed so hard his knuckles are white.
Jon walks the rest of the way into the room and sits down across from Ryan, hands in his lap for fear that he will upset the tubes. Ryan’s head snaps up when Jon’s chair creaks and after staring at Jon for a minute he nods and put his forehead back down on the edge of the bed. When Spencer pulls a chair up beside Jon’s he tentatively reaches out and brushes his fingers across Brendon’s arm. A heavy sigh escapes Jon and he leans forward, head falling into his hands.
==========
Jon quickly discovers that even when he is in the hospital with Brendon; the pictures still show up, appearing on the table that holds the lamp beside Brendon’s bed. The first morning that a picture shows up, Jon feels like crying before he picks it up and shoves it to the bottom of his bag, promptly forgetting about it. He does the same thing for the next four pictures.
==========
A month later, Brendon undergoes the first attempt to remove the tumour and they manage to remove a portion of it with some complicated sounding type of surgery that makes Jon’s head spin and stomach ache just thinking about it. But it’s a good week later and Brendon’s already looking better. He still has tubes sticking out of everywhere and he’s a lot skinnier than he was when he went in, but there’s colour back in his skin and he’s smiling again, making jokes about the bald spot on the back of his head and the hospital food.
Jon’s sitting in the bed with Brendon, arms wrapped around him and watching TV when Tom walks through the door with a bag from the video rental place near his apartment. He takes one look at them and grins before fishing out his camera and snapping a picture of them smiling back at him.
“I bring offerings!” Tom waves the bag and smiles brightly. “I got like four movies, I brought your pillow from your place and then I bought contraband.” He tosses the bag of movies onto the chair and sets his backpack on the end of the bed, rifling through it and pulling out Brendon’s pillow, tossing it to him before diving back in and pulling out more items. “I brought you ‘real’ food... I have Jolly Ranchers and Doritos and a hot dog from Hot Doug’s. I think that last one might be a little squished but even then I figured then it would be better than the hospital food.” Brendon laughs and reaches out to take the hot dog from Tom. Closing his eyes he takes the first bite and sighs happily. Rolling his head to the side, he gazes at Tom, who has taken a seat on the bed.
“I love you. Sorry Jon, but you have been temporarily replaced.” Tom starts laughing and Jon just kisses the top of Brendon’s head while he finishes his hot dog. “What movies did you bring?” He finishes his food and starts straining to see the bag at the end of the bed, curiosity written across his face.
“The first season of The Office, Bride Wars... shut up Jon, don’t laugh, you like Anne Hathaway too, Frost Nixon, Yes Man, Death Race and Hamlet 2.” Tom pulls the DVD’s out one by one and tosses them on the bed, letting Brendon have his pick.
“Let’s go with Hamlet 2, ‘cause I haven’t seen it yet. Ryan won’t rent it because it ‘be-smirches the good name of Hamlet’ or something like that... Spencer and I thought that he was joking at first but he wasn’t.” Tom chuckles and stands up to put the DVD into the player, pulling the remote from the wall where it was stuck there with Velcro, Brendon sighs and sinks into Jon’s side getting ready for the movie.
==========
Jon wakes with a start and finds himself staring at Spencer who is looming above him. Jon stretches in his chair and automatically looks over to Brendon. Lately he had taken to sleeping with Brendon in the hospital bed after the nurses had done their last round of the night, but since Brendon had undergone his second surgery a few days before, he’d been asked to give him a little space as he slept, to avoid disrupting any of the tubes.
“Jon. Go home, sleep in your own bed and take a shower. Come back in the morning, he is doing fine. If anything changes I promise I will call you.” Jon starts to protest but Spencer gives him that look, you know the one, and he nods standing up and stretching, his back and shoulders popping as he lets out a satisfied sigh.
By the time Jon crawls into his bed after a long, hot shower, he can barely keep his eyes open and he’s asleep before his head even hits the pillows.
==========
When Jon wakes up there is a picture sitting on his bedside table. He closes his eyes and wills it to go away, but when he opens them again, the picture is still there. He leans forward to look at it more closely, as his vision tunnels and he feels his world close in around him.
The picture is the one that Tom took of him and Brendon, from the day that he brought the movies but Jon is absent from the photo. You can see Brendon leaning to his left and his smile is bright, his hand curled in his lap where in the original picture Jon’s hand was clutching his. Jon tries to draw in a breath but only manages shallow pants that don’t seem to bring oxygen into his lungs. The world seems to spin and his hand shakes violently as he reaches out to pick up the picture. Jon’s hand stops in front on the picture and he can’t force himself to pick it up as his vision swims and the tears spill over.
Rolling away from the picture Jon sees the wall with all the familiar faces and he is over whelmed with a feeling that he can’t name as either grief or as rage, but there is something... something missing in his chest. Jon throws the blankets off and strides towards the wall tearing the pictures off. Some come off cleanly while other smiling faces crumple underneath his hands; and some come away from the wall leaving the thumbtacks, the corner of the picture still attached.
By the time most of the pictures are off the wall and strewn about the floor of Jon’s bedroom there are silent tears coursing down his cheeks and his breath is hitching in his throat. He starts to feel the paper cuts that crisscross his hands and his mind starts working again, the words ‘Brendon’ and ‘gone’ spinning in circles around his head as he sinks down against the wall.
He hits the floor and slumps forward, hugging his knees to his chest. A picture flutters down from the wall and lands on top of his phone as it starts vibrating across the floor. He stares at the picture of Rachel as it sits on top of his phone, the ringtone for Spencer’s number blaring out of the tinny speakers.
Jon kicks out his foot, sending the picture fluttering and his phone skidding under the bed.
“Jon?” Tom’s voice sounds from the front of Jon’s apartment but he makes no movement from his spot curled up on the floor. “Jon!” Tom’s voice sounds closer and Jon closes his eyes as he hears Tom’s footsteps approaching his bedroom door. Tom appears at the door and he hears him sigh as he moves forwards to squat down beside him, hand hovering over his side. “Jon, Spencer’s been trying to get a hold of you. Brendon... Brendon’s...” Jon could hear Tom’s voice tighten and he pulls in a shaky breath.
“I know...” Jon’s voice is low and hoarse. “Look on the bedside table.” Jon hears Tom stand up and move to the bed. He hears the noise of the picture sliding against the frame it was resting against, and he hears Tom’s intake of breath.
“You mean...” His sentence trails off but Jon understands and nods, his whole body feeling numb. “Holy shit.” Tom sinks to the floor beside Jon as he squeezes his eyes closed.
“I don’t want to be the person to help him... I can’t do it Tom.” Jon’s voice breaks halfway through and the sentence ends in a whisper. He swallows hard against the lump in his throat and the tears in his eyes, when Tom leans forwards and pulls him into a hug.
“I’ll be there okay... I’m not going anywhere.”
Within an hour, Jon is walking through the hospital hallways towards Brendon’s room. When he gets there, he turns the corner to see Ryan and Spencer on either side of Brendon with their heads pressed against the bed and their hand clasped together against Brendon’s thigh. Brendon’s standing at the end of the bed, staring at them and staring at himself.
Jon draws in a shuddering breath, fighting down the rising panic before stepping forwards and touching Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon spins around when the spark went from Jon to him; the one that shoots up Jon’s arm seems to die as soon as it reaches his chest.
“Hi.” The word is small and almost a sob.
“How can you see me? They can’t... how can you?” Brendon sounds terrified and Jon’s heart breaks even more.
“It’s just what I do... I help people cross over, Bren. All those pictures on my wall are of people that I’ve helped. I can’t explain it anymore than that because I don’t know anymore about it. It’s just... who I am.” Jon wants to smile at him, make him understand and make him accept it.
“All those times you disappeared?” Jon nods and fights hard against the lump in his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have believed me, if I had told you?” Jon shakes his head when Brendon starts to speak. “You in all honesty would have believed me if I told you that every single face on my wall was someone who died? That they had all died and a picture magically showed up on my nightstand, and I had gone to random locations all over Chicago to bring them to a place in front of the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier, where a bridge would materialize out of thin air and end in a clearing in a forest with the stars spinning over head?” Brendon closes his mouth and shakes his head no. “You would have thought that I was crazy and I couldn’t risk it. I would have lost you and I just... I just thought that it was easier, for both of us, to just keep you apart from it.” Jon’s hands drop to his sides and he just stares at Brendon, waiting for him to respond.
“So is that why you’re here? To bring me to this bridge?” Jon nods and watches something ignite behind Brendon’s eyes. “What if I refuse to go? What happens then? What if I just want to stay right here? Right here, where you can still see, and hear and feel me.” Jon shakes his head.
“I have no clue Bren; no one has ever refused help before.” The tears that have been building since Jon walked into the room finally spill over, hot and embarrassing against his cheeks. He holds his hand out to Brendon, chewing on his lip and prepared to plead. “This will be the hardest thing that I have ever done, but please let me help you. Please.”
When Brendon nods, he pushes Jon’s hand aside and steps up to his chest, pulling him close and pressing his lips hard against Jon’s, his own tears burning paths down his cheeks. Jon closes his eyes and he presses into Brendon, one hand moving to clutch desperately at his hip and the other burying in his hair as he pulls him closer, wanting nothing more than to just mesh together and make everything go away.
Brendon finally pulls away, and a small sob escapes from Jon’s lips, uncontrolled. When Brendon takes his hand, he pulls in a deep shaky breath, and starts to walk with Brendon towards Navy Pier.
They arrive at the Ferris Wheel after walking through the streets of Chicago unseen, hands clasped tightly, and silent except for their shallow breathing and the soft slap of their shoes against the sidewalk. When the door materializes slowly before them, Jon can feel his grip tighten on Brendon’s hand, until the tips of his fingers go numb. He would feel bad except Brendon is doing the same thing.
When the trees materialize around the clearing it all looks greener than it ever has before and instead of dancing across the sky like they normally did the stars were frozen in place. Jon watches as a boy walks out of the trees and Brendon gently says ‘Shane.’ Jon recognizes the name as a boy that Brendon had known in high school, who had died when he was hit by a drunk driver.
Brendon turns to face Jon and squeezes his hand tighter, placing the other against Jon cheek. He leans forwards and presses his forehead against Jon’s.
“I love you.” Brendon whispers the words and lets go of Jon’s hand, turning to walk towards the bridge. Jon watches, frozen, as Brendon walks slowly over the bridge. When he gets onto the grass he turns around and smiles at Jon, tears tracking their way down his face. Without consciously telling his body to move, Jon finds himself running up to the bridge and over it, slowing as he reaches the other side.
He stops with his toes just touching the grass and stares at Brendon.
“I can’t.” Jon shakes his head and stares at Brendon, this time consciously willing himself to lift his foot and place it down on the grass, whatever may come from it.
“JON!” He hears Tom’s voice calling his name, just as he is about to set his foot down. Brendon smiles gently at him and shakes his head.
“You can. Now go.” Brendon reaches out again and pressed his hand to Jon’s cheek for the last time. Jon can smell the pine from the trees and the scent of Brendon’s bed. He can feel the hot, dry Nevada air on his skin and feel the rush of a live show thrumming through his veins. Jon’s feeling everything that is Brendon and he memorizes every part of it.
Never taking his eyes off Brendon, he steps backwards and walks slowly off the bridge to where Tom is standing. As the meadow disintegrates, Brendon lifts his hand and waves, a smile curving his lips. When the door clicks shut, and the world shifts back to its rightful place, Jon whimpers and sags into Tom’s arms as he comes back to the rest of the world.
==========
Jon wakes up on the morning of the funeral with a fierce ache in his chest that is only increased when he sees the picture of an old man sitting on his bedside table. Squeezing his eyes closed and tuning away from the picture, Jon starts getting ready to leave.
When he’s dressed in his black clothing, he walks to the front door and puts his hand on the door knob, pausing. Sighing, Jon lets go of the handle and jogs back to his room to grab the picture of the man, shoving it into his pocket with another picture, one that would serve another purpose.
==========
After the service, and after everyone had left, Jon stands in front of Brendon’s casket and pulls one of the pictures out of his pocket. Tom had taken it just before Jon and Brendon had been dating for a year. Brendon’s lying on Jon’s ratty couch, hand curled protectively over Dylan. Jon was wedged on his side between Brendon and the back of the couch, his hand splayed across Brendon’s stomach as all three members of the picture slept soundly.
Reaching forward Jon sets the picture on top of the casket, before letting his chin fall against his chest as he blinks hard against the burning in his eyes, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the tightness in his throat. He turns from Brendon’s grave and walks towards the car where Tom is waiting for him. When he’s a few feet in front of Tom he pulls the other picture out of his pocket and hands it to the other man.
“That came this morning... will you come with me?” Tom looks at the picture and then back up to Jon, nodding and whispering ‘yeah.’
Jon nods at Tom and moves to lean against the car beside him with his face turned upwards to the sky, letting out a shaky breath as the sun warms his face.
Epilogue
Jon wakes up on the anniversary of Brendon’s death to a picture of a young boy sitting on his bedside table. He sighs and reaches out to grab the picture, rolling over and planting his feet on the ground. He rubs a hand across his beard and looks up at the wall where his pictures used to be. It’s empty of pictures now and a slate gray color with large white prints of Chicago silkscreened onto the wall, just like the rest of the room. He leans over and tugs the photo box out from underneath his bed and sits it beside him.
When he picked the photos up off the floor a year ago some of them were too tattered to hang back up on the wall. Jon had tried to smooth out the wrinkles and then after he shed a few tears for the lost pictures he bought the photo box for them and put them in chronological order, tucking the box underneath his bed. Jon sits today’s picture on the lid of the box as he stands up and starts to get ready.
When he walks out the door half an hour later he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and dials Tom’s number.
“Hello?” Tom’s yelling over background noise when he picks up the phone.
“Tom! Where the fuck are you?” Jon’s laughing as he hears Tom scuffle with someone before a door opens and slams shut.
“In the fucking ass crack of New York State near Canada, fighting with the fucking people who let us crash at their place last night, they stole some of Bill’s shit out of his bag while he slept.” Tom’s voice drops a little. “Are you okay? I know what today is dude...”
“I’m okay so far... but then again I’ve only been awake for a half an hour. When are you getting home?” Jon shifts the phone to hold it between his shoulder and his ear while he pulls out the picture to look at the background, recognizing it as Pierce Street in Wicker Park, he took pictures for a guy who was selling his house earlier on in the year, and on closer inspection Jon catches a glimpse of a street number.
“I should be getting in at like three, are we still on for dinner or did something come up?” Jon can hear Tom open the door of their van and rifle through something before he starts cursing. “Sorry, Butcher’s bag fucking bit me, swear to god.” Jon shakes his head and can picture Tom stooped over in the van, kicking at Butcher’s duffle bag.
“Yeah we’re still on. I got a picture so I might be a little bit late and I just wanted to give you a heads up.” Jon tucks the picture back into his pocket and walks towards the train platform.
“Okay, I’ll see you tonight then... If we’re not all thrown in jail by then for beating these people to a pulp.” Jon can hear the eye roll and half smirk in Tom’s voice before he says goodbye and shoves the phone back into his pocket.
The spring sun is starting its downward arch in the sky when he finally gets Connor to the bridge.
Connor drags Jon across the bridge, right to the grass before he finally lets go of his hand and runs over to his grandfather. Jon smiles and squats down where he is standing, watching as they disappear into the trees. Jon stays where he is and watches the stars spinning over head. When he stands to leave a movement on the edge of the trees catches his eye and he looks closer.
When the figure steps out from behind the tree Jon’s breath whooshes out of his lungs and he sways on his feet.
Brendon is standing about a foot into the clearing, smiling and waving shyly. Jon feels a smile spreading across his face as the familiar ache in his chest starts again and a fresh wave of want and loneliness washes over him. He lifts his hand up and waves tentatively back at Brendon.
Brendon beams and turns his face up to the night sky and even at this distance Jon thinks that he can see tears tracking down Brendon’s face. Jon mimics Brendon’s movement and turns his face up to the sky where on his side of the bridge the sun is still up.
He inhales deeply and his throat tightens even more. When he pulls in another deep breath he swears that he can taste the desert in the air.
Enhanced Content:
Fanart: Brendon is laying on Jon’s ratty couch, hand curled protectively around Dylan. by _afterism
Fanmix: So It Goes by thimbledkisses