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Hi.. I'm new, my name's Chelsea, and I'm 13.. I've liked GC since last summer. :)
This is my first GC fic ever... and my first slash ever. Please r/r. :)
Title: My Immortal
Rating: R
Pairings: Billy/Benji
Desc: Billy has passed on... can Benji deal with it?
A/N: Got the idea after seeing GC live for the first time.
Disclaimer: Totally fiction. I don’t own Good Charlotte, Evanescence (who wrote the song used, My Immortal). I don’t own anorexia, either, despite the fact that many think I do.
I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all of my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Because your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
~~
Black tears progressed down his cheeks. The tears that had been painted on months ago were now real, the charcoal rings mixing with the deluge of emotion that spilled flowed freely from his chocolate brown eyes. The eyes that had once sparkled with spunk and love now sparkled with pain. He glanced at his Lover’s clothing that lay on the chair in the bedroom. He had always liked picking out His clothing the night in advance. It was one of the things that made Him Him. A black, satin shirt. Medium, because of His long arms. A pair of black jeans, with zippers from the knees down. Size 28. That had hung off of his Lover’s emaciated frame. He hadn’t the heart to move them.
~~
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
~~
“I’ll never be able to forget Him,” he heard his voice say. “I can’t stand this!” He exclaimed loudly. “Why, dammit? Why did You have to fucking go??” He screamed, his voice cracking, his body trembling with sobs.
~~
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I've held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
~~
He remembered it all. The fights over how much He had to eat, the grotesque dreams that had woken Him up countless nights over the past few years. The broken mirrors. Although it had all been hard, he would give everything to get it all back.
~~
You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
But now I’m bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me
~~
He yawned, and climbed into their bed. He slowly stroked his Love’s pillow, as he had done to the hair of the man that once occupied the space next to him. He slowly drifted into sleep; having been worn out from all the emotions filling his head. He saw his Love there, in his dreams, as He had been in his final days. A walking corpse. The hair that had in the past been gelled to look stringy had become exactly that: stringy, lifeless, limp. As it’s owner had been. The skin was tight over the bones, as if barely there at all. The eyes that had shone with excitement all those years ago were matte, showing no emotions. The cheekbones protruded from the skull, drawing attention to how high they were. The cheeks... well, what cheeks? They had sunken in many months ago. This image flooded his mind, and his gravelly voice from all those years of smoking and throwing up spoke to him. He didn’t know what it was saying, but it possessed him. He awoke crying, and did not sleep.
~~
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
~~
He sat, shaking, and thought back to their last night before He had entered the hospital with cardiac arrest. They stayed up all night, talking. What did they talk about? He couldn’t remember, and became angry with himself. “How the fuck do you not remember?” He asked himself. “It was only a week ago, you bastard,” he spat with disgust.
~~
When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I’d fight away all of your fears
And I’ve held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
~~
“I’m scared, Benj, I really am,” His Love had said. “It’s ok to be scared,” he had replied while stroking the younger guitarist’s thinning hair. He had begun to sob. “I want this to end, Benji. I can’t take this anymore. I don’t know what I want. Whether I should be pro or not, and it’s tearing me apart!” His Love had cried out in anguish. He had tried to calm him, to no prevail. “You still have me, Billy. I’ll help you through this, I promise,” He had said. The older musician stared at the spot on the bed where he had held his lover, and tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I let you down. I’m sorry…. I’m sorry….”
~~
I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
And though you're still with me
I've been alone all along
~~
With bitter pain staining his soul, he stood up, and paced the floor. “He’s gone, you little fucker! No matter how much you cry, He’s not fucking coming back! You need to fucking take it like a man, you bitch!” He yelled at himself. He stopped suddenly, and fell to his knees. His Love had always been distracted… always worried. Always.
Maybe he had been alone all along?
This is my first GC fic ever... and my first slash ever. Please r/r. :)
Title: My Immortal
Rating: R
Pairings: Billy/Benji
Desc: Billy has passed on... can Benji deal with it?
A/N: Got the idea after seeing GC live for the first time.
Disclaimer: Totally fiction. I don’t own Good Charlotte, Evanescence (who wrote the song used, My Immortal). I don’t own anorexia, either, despite the fact that many think I do.
I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all of my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Because your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
~~
Black tears progressed down his cheeks. The tears that had been painted on months ago were now real, the charcoal rings mixing with the deluge of emotion that spilled flowed freely from his chocolate brown eyes. The eyes that had once sparkled with spunk and love now sparkled with pain. He glanced at his Lover’s clothing that lay on the chair in the bedroom. He had always liked picking out His clothing the night in advance. It was one of the things that made Him Him. A black, satin shirt. Medium, because of His long arms. A pair of black jeans, with zippers from the knees down. Size 28. That had hung off of his Lover’s emaciated frame. He hadn’t the heart to move them.
~~
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
~~
“I’ll never be able to forget Him,” he heard his voice say. “I can’t stand this!” He exclaimed loudly. “Why, dammit? Why did You have to fucking go??” He screamed, his voice cracking, his body trembling with sobs.
~~
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I've held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
~~
He remembered it all. The fights over how much He had to eat, the grotesque dreams that had woken Him up countless nights over the past few years. The broken mirrors. Although it had all been hard, he would give everything to get it all back.
~~
You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
But now I’m bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me
~~
He yawned, and climbed into their bed. He slowly stroked his Love’s pillow, as he had done to the hair of the man that once occupied the space next to him. He slowly drifted into sleep; having been worn out from all the emotions filling his head. He saw his Love there, in his dreams, as He had been in his final days. A walking corpse. The hair that had in the past been gelled to look stringy had become exactly that: stringy, lifeless, limp. As it’s owner had been. The skin was tight over the bones, as if barely there at all. The eyes that had shone with excitement all those years ago were matte, showing no emotions. The cheekbones protruded from the skull, drawing attention to how high they were. The cheeks... well, what cheeks? They had sunken in many months ago. This image flooded his mind, and his gravelly voice from all those years of smoking and throwing up spoke to him. He didn’t know what it was saying, but it possessed him. He awoke crying, and did not sleep.
~~
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
~~
He sat, shaking, and thought back to their last night before He had entered the hospital with cardiac arrest. They stayed up all night, talking. What did they talk about? He couldn’t remember, and became angry with himself. “How the fuck do you not remember?” He asked himself. “It was only a week ago, you bastard,” he spat with disgust.
~~
When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I’d fight away all of your fears
And I’ve held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
~~
“I’m scared, Benj, I really am,” His Love had said. “It’s ok to be scared,” he had replied while stroking the younger guitarist’s thinning hair. He had begun to sob. “I want this to end, Benji. I can’t take this anymore. I don’t know what I want. Whether I should be pro or not, and it’s tearing me apart!” His Love had cried out in anguish. He had tried to calm him, to no prevail. “You still have me, Billy. I’ll help you through this, I promise,” He had said. The older musician stared at the spot on the bed where he had held his lover, and tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I let you down. I’m sorry…. I’m sorry….”
~~
I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
And though you're still with me
I've been alone all along
~~
With bitter pain staining his soul, he stood up, and paced the floor. “He’s gone, you little fucker! No matter how much you cry, He’s not fucking coming back! You need to fucking take it like a man, you bitch!” He yelled at himself. He stopped suddenly, and fell to his knees. His Love had always been distracted… always worried. Always.
Maybe he had been alone all along?