The Mortician's Son [BoyxBoy Romance] * On Hold *

Chapter One ; Part Two

Note: Johnny is being played by Cameron Ugh, yet instead of black hair and blue eyes, he has white hair and red/crimson eyes. (He's albino...so keep that in mind.) Um, Sam, is played by Ruberman Rodriguez ( he is actually the cover guy and the model on the prologue page) In the story, Sam has maroon hair (like a brownish red) and dark green eyes. And i don't know why I put that picture in the sidebar, I just thought it was funny lmao :D

Johnny slowly awoke to the sound of birds singing, and the smell of fresh air. He had to blink a couple of times to clear his eyes and mind. Looking around, he questioned his surroundings. He laid in a meadow, full of beautiful red roses and tall, pink, cherry blossom trees. He smiled as the trees hovered above him, looking like a beautiful painting that was spread out on a once white canvas.  

            The pink and red petals flowed through the wind, blue birds and cardinals chirping and singing as they flew after one another. For a split second, Johnny thought he had died, and was sent to the gates of Heaven. But just as the thought crossed his mind, a bloody red started eating away at the bright blue skies. Darkness engulfed around him, devouring the meadow with its beautiful nature.

            With a small whimper, Johnny found himself falling faster than he could think. His body turned cold as he fell farther­–deeper–faster–into the pit of darkness. Soon enough, Johnny crashed against a creaky, old, mattress. Small specks of dust flew everywhere as he looked around, fear and paranoia nipping at his spine. He opened his mouth to scream but silence just echoed throughout the room.

His sentences started in the middle and ended before they were finished, and nothing existed, and because everything was just in his head there could be no doors and no windows, everything was just black, black, black; there could be no animals, screaming and scratching wildly at the walls, and there could be no hummingbirds tap-tap-tapping at the windows with their beaks and falling to a pile on the floor, dead, with a thud and a thud and a thud.

The hummingbirds couldn’t decompose right in front of his eyes because they didn’t exist – the feathers couldn’t begin to crumble, the eyes couldn’t rot, the little fragile skeletons couldn’t show themselves because they just weren’t there at all.  There could be no dead birds and no dead cats and there could be no voices; they were all just metaphors.

All around him was empty, dark, suffocating space – it, too, didn’t exist but it crashed and rolled and it screamed and it was real, so very real, and he couldn’t get away from it because he didn’t exist – everything was hollow and empty and because it was nothing it was actually everything–

Johnny’s bright red eyes shot open as worried cries and angry screams pushed him through and out of the confusing nightmare. A pair of hands shook the mortician’s son, until he was fully awake, taking in his surroundings. He was in, what seemed to be a stretcher, rolling through hallways, his body shaking uncontrollably and violent cries and screams emerging from his throat. Doctors hovered above him, and lights flashed from all different directions. The last thing he heard before falling off into unconsciousness left him shaken and empty.

“Holy shit, Sam, that’s the mortician’s son!”

***

            A loud, irritating, beep – beep – beep invaded Johnny’s surprisingly dreamless sleep. Groaning, he slowly moved over to his side. Sharp pain shot throughout his entire body, causing a strangled cry to erupt from his lips. “John!” a rather familiar voice shouted. Wincing, Johnny opened his eyes, only to find his father staring down at him with a concerned expression brooding on his features.

Shane Myers stared down at his adopted son. He couldn’t help the escaping sob as he stared down at the fragile boy lying broken and alone in the hospital bed. Not only had he ran away from home, but had been hit by a truck while walking on some deserted highway.

Johnny grunted as he pulled himself upright to hug his father. “When I first found your note, I had thought you committed suicide. I spent hours looking for your body, but then I gathered up the courage to keep reading the letter and read that you were running away. I got a call from the hospital, saying a boy found you lying in the road. I thought I had lost you, Johnny! Why would you leave me? Please don’t put me through what your sister and mother did. Please!” Shane sobbed into his son’s shoulder, clutching desperately at Johnny’s blood stained t-shirt, “You’re the only one I have left! You’re all that’s left of whatever love that had ever existed in my life! You are my life, Johnny! You’re my son!”

Silent tears escaped from the grasp of Johnny’s crimson eyes. Holding his shaking father, he looked up to see yet another person in the room. Maroon hair that looked dark brown in the dim lighting, and deep, dark green eyes that had specks of brown and gold in them stared sympathetically towards them.  Johnny didn’t recognize the boy, for he was home schooled, and never really had any friends.

Johnny couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the beautiful sight before him. “Johnny,” his father pulled away from him and motioned towards the boy, “this is Sam. He was the one who found you.”

Fuck.

Sam stared at the albino beauty sitting in the bed. “H-Hi,” he stuttered, smiling sheepishly and giving the broken boy a small, friendly, wave. His black My Chemical Romance t-shirt seemed to have shrunken about three sizes, crushing his torso as his body heated with nerves and embarrassment. His lungs constricted and his heart clenched at the sight of the Johnny’s adorable, yet hurt, face. “I’m Sam,” he said dumbly, yet cutely.

After a moment, Johnny smiled at the taller boy. “I like your shirt,” he said, “They’re my favorite band.”

That got Sam smiling like an idiot, his eyes shining. “Same here! Do you have any favorite songs by them?”

“I’m obsessed with Early Sunsets Over Monroeville, Famous Last Words, Mama, To The End, Helena, Headfirst for Halos, and Welcome to the Black Parade. I mean who doesn’t love the black parade? It’s amazing.”

“My cousin thinks it’s over played, but I happen to love it.” Sam smiled as he sat at the edge of the bed, “My favorite from them would have to be Skylines and Turnstiles. That song acted as therapy for me…”

Something flashed through Johnny’s eyes, “Oh? How so?”

“Um…” Sam hesitated, “w-well…my, ah, mom…she died...I mean, she was there at the World Trade Center. She, ah, died…yeah.”

Before Sam could even process the moment, he was being pulled into a somewhat awkward, yet somewhat comforting, tight embrace. “I’m so sorry, Sam,” Johnny said into his shoulder, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s fine, really.”

“How is it fine when people die? I know exactly how it feels…”

Even though Johnny was the shyest person anyone could possibly ever know, he seemed comfortable with Sam. For the next week and a half, Sam visited every single day from when visiting hours started and to when they ended. Sometimes he’d persuade the doctors and or nurses to let him stay the night.

Johnny found himself becoming a slightly happier person as he made his first friend. The only thing Johnny had ever known was his bedroom, which consisted of sitting on his bed and sketching, painting, and drawing quite depressing, yet amazingly beautiful artworks, and fooling around with all of the knives he has in his collection–plus, playing drums to piss off the demons that would whisper and nip at his ears.

This boy is using you, John.

 Cue cynical laughter.

You’re better off killing him.

You don’t need him…

You have me.