Youngblood Chronicles

Save Rock And Roll

(Yes, this is the last chapter of this book. Sad. It gets a lil better- I hope you enjoyed the story!)

There was endless white, seeming like nothing. He looked down at himself, and he was dressed in white jeans and a white leather jacket, white framed glasses on his face, more white sneakers and a white fedora placed on his head.

"Patrick?"

Patrick jumped as a voice sounded around him. He looked around, but everything was still blank. Except a small silver ring glowing blue in the distance. He moved his foot forward, relieved when it planted on solid ground. He stepped over to the silver ring, reaching his hand underneath it. It glowed brighter, almost too bright, then disappeared into the ring on his finger.

Elisa.

He saw another blue glow above him, and looked up. He soon realized it came from his fedora, taking it off hesitantly and looking it over. The band that sat around the bottom was glowing this time, and Patrick ran his finger along it. It was silver, and glowing blue. The ring must've wrapped around his fedora.

"Well I'll be," he muttered to himself, putting his white fedora back on. He felt a sharp pain in his back that only lasted a split second, but it was enough to make him gasp. He felt a slight unfamiliar weight, and swiveled his head around to see beautiful white wings, tinted royal blue at the feather tips.

"You will get used to the wings, that silver ring was your halo."

Now that Patrick thought about it, the voice was achingly familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"I think Gabriel wants to see you now...."

Patrick froze. He did know that voice. It was the voice he used to hear every Sunday when he and Pete met up at Patrick's house for dinner. It was the voice Pete missed so much.

"Saint?"

~~~~

Pete was still in bed, of course. It was around noon-ish, and it had been a week since Patrick died. Meagan had just left to make him lunch. He sat up, looking in the corner of his room to where his bass was. He felt a tug at his heart, and he just wanted to hear Patrick's voice again. To see him, to watch him play and sing his heart out on the stage.

That was when he heard it.

The sound of an all-too-familiar guitar, and it sounded like it was right next to him. It was quiet, but he heard it. He knew he was upset, but he wasn't going out of his mind. He saw a small blue glow moving up and down diagonally over by where his bass was. It almost looked like.... Fingers.

Then a small silver light shimmered in, glowing blue as well. It revealed a little more, looking almost like it was rested on a hat. He saw the outline of the guitar shine blue too, and instantly recognized it.

Patrick's Gretsch.

The silhouette of a man in a fedora shone blue, and his guitar became louder. Now it sounded proper. The glow stopped suddenly, revealing Patrick as he finished playing the guitar instrumental of Death Valley.

He tilted his head up, showing his face and smiling. He stood up straight, adjusting his fedora and glasses.

"Hey," He said simply. His voice was exactly as Pete wanted it to be. How it was when he was alive, when he was okay.

Pete felt a tear start streaming down his face, staring in awe. His dead best friend was standing in his room.

"You gonna hug me, blondie, or what?" Patrick said with a chuckle, holding his arms out. Pete rushed forward and slammed into him, hugging him as tight as possible.

"I- what are- how!?" He asked, burying his face in Patrick's shoulder. Patrick giggled, wrapping his arms around Pete.

"I dunno. But guess who's with me?" Patrick said, a mischievous smile on his face. Pete pondered on it for a second, stopping dead when he figured it out.

"No, he-" Pete stopped when he saw a small green glow start next to Patrick. The silhouette of a small boy appeared, soon fading away as fast as it came. Pete stood there, staring down at his son.

"S-Saint.... I-...." Pete was at a loss for words. Patrick looked down at Saint, his smile widening.

"Hey. It's okay, daddy. I love you," Saint shimmered his wings into sight, flapping them once and jumping into his father. Pete faultered slightly, laughing it off and hugging Saint tightly.

"I missed you, kid. But where'd you get the sickass wings?" Pete said with a smile.

"Uncle Patrick helped me earn them. He had his already. Show him, Uncle Pat!" Saint said, flapping his wings excitedly. Patrick giggled, showing his wings, which were exceptionally bigger, and the blue was darker.  Pete stared at them as Patrick ducked his head shyly, spreading his wings out a little farther so Pete could get a better look.

"Well, we were sent to make sure you're okay. And Gabriel said we could watch over you if we like. Saint and I took the job." Patrick said, his smile widening. Pete smiled madly, and for the first time in about a month he didn't have to force it.

"I guess we're your guardian angels now."

(EEEEK SKDKSKSBSJS THIS IS THE END OF THE BOOK THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING I HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND TELL ME IF YOU WANT A SEQUEL BC I DO REQUESTS ANYTIME WHETHER ITS ONE SHOTS OR STORYLINES FEEL FREE TO SUGGEST AWAY! Okay Buh byeee! See you next story!)

        -Fleeger