McPriceley Oneshots

His Best Friend (Angst)

It's... been almost three months. My bad!

I'm alive, have no worry

Or maybe some- cause this is angst ;) I'm writing it while singing Words Fail over and over so that's the song for this oneshot heh

TW: Death (but not dying y'know? Death has already happened okay bye)

Kevin

It wasn't supposed to go this way.

Connor and I were supposed to buy a little apartment in New York City. I would get a job working at a nonprofit, and he would be in musicals. We would live our small little life together, seeing Arnold and Naba on weekends and meeting Chris and James on Wednesday mornings for coffee. Keep our group.

It only seemed right to keep our little group together, after all. After spending two years practically on top of each other in the tiny mission hut, we'd all formed a rather strong bond. How could we not? 

Connor, Arnold, Naba, Chris, and James: my new family, far better than my previous one. A family that owned my heart.

A family that I thought would be with me forever.

It wasn't supposed to go this way.

I wasn't supposed to be sitting in this room, in the front row as eyes burn into the back of my head. 

I wasn't supposed to be clutching Connor's hand like a lifeline as he tries to comfort me. 

I wasn't supposed to be crying desperately as sobs rack my body,  Connor helpless as he attempts to contain his own tears.

It's all wrong.

The service is all wrong. It's too much organ music and stoic speeches by his father. It's not enough Arnold.

There isn't enough Arnold anywhere now. 

After Arnold's father finishes his speech, he turns to me. "Kevin? Would you like to come up and say a few words?"

I stand shakily, Connor letting go of my hand. I make it a few steps before my knees shake uncontrollably, threatening to give out. 

I shake my head and sit back down, my eyes spilling over with tears. Connor wraps his arms around me, rubbing my back soothingly, but all I can think of is how disappointed Arnold must be in me.

His best friend. His buddy. That was what he called me. How come his best friend can't speak at his funeral? 

My heart is breaking-if not already broken. Arnold used to say how much he admired me for my confidence, my optimism, my quick thinking.

Now I can't even get a word out on his behalf without breaking in two.

What kind of friend am I?

I don't stay long. Arnold's parents shake hands with every guest and invite me to join them, but I mumble a random excuse-or nonsensical blabbering. Naba and I make eye contact as Connor and I head towards the door. Her eyes are an exhausted red like my own, but she nods weakly in my direction. I do the same before Connor ushers me out of the church and into the bright, painful sunlight.

It's all wrong.

"Are you hungry?" Connor asks me quietly as we walk down the street towards our hotel. 

"No," I say. I haven't been hungry for weeks. 

"You need to eat something, Kev."

"I'm not hungry."

"Please." His voice cracks on the last syllable, and I finally look at him, really look at him for the first time today.

His red hair is matted in strange places from not sleeping, eyes wet and tear tracks plastered down his cheeks. Not much better than me. I haven't even spent a momentary thought to how he was handling Arnold's death, so wrapped up in my own grief. What kind of boyfriend am I?

"Fine," I say softly. "I'll eat something."

"Thank you," Connor said, taking my hand and squeezing it. I try to squeeze it back, but I can't make my hand work. Only my feet, walking me slowly down the street.

Connor doesn't say anything for the rest of the walk, or when we get to our hotel room. He doesn't protest when I sit down in the center of the bed, curling my knees to my chest as I try not to bawl like a baby. 

He orders something from room service- I can't tell what. His voice blurs out into the background noise of cars in the street. I don't know how long it is between the order and the arrival of food- fifteen minutes? An hour?

"Kevin," Connor says, pushing the cart into the room and closing the door. "Time to eat."

I tilt my head up. No matter the sickening feeling in the pit of my gut, it's obvious that my shutting down is causing Connor a horrible amount of pain stacked on top of his grief. It makes sense-I'm a sickening person.

"Kev?" Connor asks quietly, sitting down next to me on the bed. "Are you okay?"

"No," I croak. How could I be?

Connor puts his arm tentatively around my shoulders, wrapping me in a hug as I lean my head on his shoulder, tears welling in my eyes. "I know."

"It's so hard," I sob into his shirt. "We were companions, Con! We're not supposed to be without each other! And now- he's left me!"

"I know," Connor says quietly, pulling me close against him and rubbing my back. "I know."

"What...what am I supposed to do?"

"You have me now," Connor whispered in my ear. "I'm here. And we're going to be okay."

"It just-" a sob cuts me off. "It doesn't feel like it."

"I know." One of his tears falls on my cheek. "But it'll get better. Eventually. Over time."

"Connor-"

"Arnold just wanted you to be happy," Connor continues,  "and it would break his heart to see you like this."

I take a shaky breath and sit up, wiping my eyes. "I know."

"We're going to be okay," Connor repeats. 

"We're going to be okay."

Connor presses a gentle kiss to my cheek, and he's right-this is what Arnold would have wanted. Me, living my life with the man I love. 

The pain won't go away quickly.

But at least there's someone to help me with it.

1013 words

Friendly reminder that this was supposed to be a oneshot about Arnold trying to set Kevin and Connor up in Uganda but then I decided on angst and someone (cough cough) brought up the death of a side character and hm,,, this happened.

Angst is really all that I can write right now I'm TRYING to work on it so hah we'll see how that goes.

APOLOGIES for the awful writing- I tried to edit and it didn't work. At least I know its bad, right? But I'm finally being held accountable so,,,

I missed all of you so much! I'm back for real- the summer hiatus is over!

Love,
Em