#cakepop

YESS CAKEPOP!!🍰🍿manifesting in delightful yuri in the peak 26😄

Unicorn cakepop!! (Horn broke off)

Trigger warnings: suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation, implied/referenced sexual assault, suicide, death

Oh also go listen to I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab For Cutie before or after you read idc but you should perhaps listen cause it will set/continue the mood.

(Oh sorry one more thing, dialogue taken from The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton in the Johnny jumping scene)

I Will Follow You Into The Dark

“How drenched did your jeans get, Johnnycake? You need to borrow a pair?” Soda asked, glancing over his shoulder as he dug in his dresser drawer.

He shook his head, frowning at the water droplets that rained from his curls. “No, I’m good, thanks. My shirt is soaked, though.”

“One dry shirt, coming right up!” Soda announced as if he were a waiter at a diner. He rummaged for a moment before picking out a Will Rogers sweater his mama had customized for him (or Darry? He couldn’t remember whose it had originally been…). Spinning around, he held it up to Johnny. “This okay? I know you’ve got a shirt on, not a sweatshirt but you’re always gettin’ cold, anyway…”

“It’s great, Dr Pepper.” He nodded, holding out his arms for the boy to throw the piece of clothing at him. Instead, Soda stepped over and placed it within them gently.

After a brief moment of direct eye contact, Soda hopped back around and fished for a new shirt for himself. His tank top clung to him in divots in his skin he didn’t even know existed until then.

Whilst this rummaging was occurring, Johnny slipped out of his soggy shirt and into the cozy sweatshirt. As he was deciding whether to discard the shirt on the floor or Pony’s desk chair, his stomach gave a loud rumble.

With a dramatic change in demeanor, Soda slowly turned towards him. “What was that?”

“Huh?”

“Johnnycake, was that your stomach? Golly, man! When was the last time you ate?”

He reflected on the question. “Um… I had some cheese earlier.”

“… Cheese? That’s all you had today?” He looked mortified. “Stay here. Give me five.”

Standing up, Johnny tried to object. “Sodapop, that ain’t necessary-”

“Johnny, sit back down. I’m getting ya some food.”

“I’m not hungry!”

“Your stomach says otherwise. You can come sit in the kitchen if you want, but I’m making you food either way. Mama would kill me if I let you starve.”

After a long sigh, Johnny sat back down on the bed. “Fine.” As Soda trotted to the kitchen, Johnny continued to talk to him. “Where is everyone, anyways? I know Pone’s at Track, but what ‘bout everybody else?”

Soda raised his voice to ensure the slightly younger boy could hear him from across the small house. “Dad’s at work, Dare’s at Paul’s, Mama is with uh… I think she’s with Ma Mathews, and… oh. That’s it!” He stuck two pieces of toast into the rusting toaster. “I dunno when any of them will be back.”

Nodding, Johnny realized Soda couldn’t see that but just shrugged to himself and leaned back against a pillow for a few quiet moments while his friend prepared him… some sort of food.

It was a minute later when he came bearing a plate of two pieces of toast. He presented it to him with a grin. “Here you go, Jack.”

Johnny took a piece and a small bite of it. “Jack?” He mumbled through the food. Without a second thought he held out the other piece and stuck it between Soda’s teeth. He knew he wouldn’t be able to eat both of them.

Soda somehow kept it sticking out of his mouth while he spoke. “It’s a nickname for John, I think. Heard it in one of Pony’s movies.”

“Oh.” He continued to eat. “Don’tcha want to change out of your shirt now?” He eyed the wet fabric warily.

“I s’pose I should, yeah. It’s kind of cold.” A bright laugh. Eyes that crinkled in the corners.

Still munching on the toast, Johnny watched as Soda turned around and lifted his shirt off. His eyes found little things they had never noticed before. Seven freckles in the shape of a horseshoe, a little white scar that sat near his spine, a scratch that looked like something a cat would give you. He could tell his own brows were furrowed deep as he stared. Why am I noticing all of this now?

Soda’s bare skin disappeared from sight as he pulled on a faded blue t-shirt that had some unknown logo on the back. He spun around to face him once again. The toast was somehow already gone. “You’ve got to eat the whole thing,” he told him, licking a crumb off his own lip.

“Not all of us eat as quickly as horses, Soda.” Johnny smiled a little, rolling his eyes as he ate more.

He considered this. “You got me there, Johnnycake.” He threw himself onto the bed beside him and stared up at the ceiling. “Soemtimes, I stare up at this roof for so long that I start seeing shapes in the plaster. Or constellations. I found a book Ponyboy got from the school library and looked at all the pictures. There’s a lot of stars up there, Jack. And every single one of them matters, y’know? Without ‘em, the sky would be just a bit darker. And maybe we wouldn’t realize at first, but I think the other stars would… don’t you?”

Soda sat up when he didn’t answer. “Johnny?” He whispered, carefully reaching out a hand and placing it on his shoulder.

Flinching, Johnny shut his eyes, trying to turn his face away to hide the tears sliding down his cheeks, even though he knew Soda had already seen them. “Sometimes I think one star, just one, matters a lot more than… than I do.”

“Hey, hey, that isn’t true. You matter, Johnnycake, you hear me? You matter. To-to all of us.” He added, holding his shoulder just a bit tighter.

He faced to him. “Do I?”

“You do. You trust me, don’t you?”

A nod.

“Good,” His eyes searched his face. “Do you… want a hug?”

Another, meeker nod.

Soda scooted forward and pulled him against him, hugging him firmly. “I want you to look at the stars and know that without you, we would all notice. We would all be different. Okay?”

“Okay,” He breathed against his neck, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Thanks, Pepsi.” He could practically feel him smile.

“Anytime.”

After what seemed like a very long but necessary time, they ended the embrace and sat beside one another in comfortable silence. Or, more accurately, uncomfortable silence because both of them were trying with all their might not to stare at the other, but they assumed that the other boy was comfortable.

“Johnny?” Soda slowly said, glancing over.

“Yeah?” He returned the look.

With bated breath, he fully moved to face him. Johnny followed suit, his breaths also slowing. He didn’t fully comprehend it when he moved in and pressed his lips to Soda’s. Or when Soda reciprocated it, momentarily placing his hands on his scarred face.

“Oh, fuck.” Johnny swore, scrambling backwards and tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. “Shit, shit-” he took in Soda’s confused but already crumpling expression. “Shit. I-” he hated the tears stinging his eyes. “Dammit.”

And then he ran. Out the bedroom door, out the front door, all the way to the lot. And when the lot wasn’t far enough from the Curtis house, he ran farther. He ran home, where he hoped someone would yell at him and tell him he was horrible, because he was. He was truly, wholeheartedly, horrible.

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For the next week, Sodapop barely saw Johnny. Whenever he was around, which was barely, he would disappear within seconds, dragging Ponyboy out to the yard or into the room or to the lot. Anywhere besides where Soda was.

It certainly didn’t go unnoticed by everyone. Mrs. Curtis exchanged curious glances with her eldest son whenever Soda sighed as Johnny pulled their younger brother into another room yet again. Steve would tell a joke to Johnny and ask him to repeat the story to Soda, only for Johnny to make up an excuse and rush away. At dinner, Mr. Curtis would casually wonder where Johnny was, considering they liked to have him for dinner as often as possible. Ponyboy, the only one oblivious to the oddness, would answer his father with an “At Two-Bit’s” or “With Dally”.

One day, when they were approaching day ten of not speaking, Soda managed to sneak into the living room where Johnny sat studying the blanket he was sitting under. He rushed over and sat down on the coffee table in front of him. “Johnny.”

He nearly shrieked then made a move to get up, but before he could, Soda reached out a hand and placed it on his chest. “Please, man. We gotta talk about it.”

Miserably, he shook his head, slumping against the couch. “No, we don’t.”

“No one’s here, and they won’t be for awhile. They ain’t going to walk in and hear us. So can we talk? We can’t just never talk again. I’d miss you too much, Johnnycake.”

He grumbled, shoving his bangs out of his eyes. “Stop! Stop making this difficult, Sodapop.”

“What?”

“Don’t-don’t go talking about how you’ll miss me. How you’re, here for me. You hate me. You should, hate me.”

“And why’s that? Cause you…” he hesitated, his fingers grazing his lips as if remembering the feeling of Johnny’s against them. “Cause you kissed me? Well guess what, Johnny, I kissed back. And I was about to do it before you did. So do you hate me?”

A heaviness settled in Johnny’s dark, tired eyes. He swallowed hard, studying Soda’s face after he asked the question. The answer was obvious. Of course he didn’t hate Soda. Who could? But he didn’t know why he was feeling this way towards him. It made no sense. It was wrong. It was so unbelievably wrong. “No, I don’t.”

“So why would I hate you? Jack, I know this ain’t supposed to be right but… but I don’t know! I can’t stop wondering why. Because I’ve… I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone more than I want to kiss you.”

“You’re making this hard again.” He frowned, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

His nostrils burned as tears rose and clouded his vision. “I want to kiss you, too.”

“Then what’s stopping us?”

Johnny couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of that question. Everything was stopping them. They were both boys. He had heard terrifying stories of what happened when people discovered someone liked someone the same gender as them. He already had enough targets on his back. But then there was Soda. Soda who was kind and funny, who always made sure he had enough food and distracted him whenever he caught Socs staring at him. Soda who wanted to kiss him and kissed him back when he made the first move. Soda, who was staring at him with such understanding that it was impossible not to let himself be a little foolish and to wonder what was stopping them. No one could see what was happening inside the house. Not right then. “Are you sure?” Johnny murmured, his gaze flickering around the room.

“I’m sure.” He nodded, leaning a bit closer. “I’m three hundred percent sure.”

“I’m as bad at math as you are, but I don’t think that’s how percent works.”

“Oh, it’ll survive.” Grinning, he placed his hand on Johnny’s knee. “You sure?”

“Yeah… I am.” Without another moment’s hesitation, he stood up from the couch and leaned down, closing his eyes as he moved in and kissed Soda once again. This time, though, he wasn’t going to jump away and bolt. This time, he would let it go on. He would kiss him until they were breathless, until their hearts were nearly beating out of their chests.

Soda, while making sure the kissing continued, stood up and wrapped his arms around Johnny’s shoulders, his hands wandering up to his head full of curls. Johnny cupped Soda’s face in his hands and ran his thumbs along his cheekbones, admiring every part of the gorgeous face with his hands.

As he had hoped, the kiss ended only when they needed to breathe properly again. They stood staring at one another for several seconds until Soda grinned and they both sat down on the couch, catching their breath.

“Where’d you learn to kiss like that?” Soda teased, combing a hand through his slicked back hair.

“Curly Shepard.” Soda nearly fell off the couch before Johnny burst into laughter. “I’m pulling your leg- don’t die on me, now.” He collected himself then shrugged. “I dunno. Never kissed no one before the other day.”

“Who’d you kiss?”

Johnny blinked. “You?”

Soda turned a deep red. “Oh. Oh. I was your first kiss?”

“Um, as far as I can remember, yeah.” He scratched his neck. “So. What now?”

“Want another kiss?”

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Things were pretty wonderful for the boys for the next month or so. Whenever they could, they held hands or snuck kisses the second someone left a room. Of course the fear was always looming, but it was difficult to be afraid when in each other’s presence. They both calmed one another in ways they hadn’t known were possible. They never failed to make the other laugh or smile.

They had decided to tone it down on Darry’s birthday, not wanting to distract each other from his celebration.

“While they’re gone, who wants to play charades?” Two-Bit proposed, flopped over one arm of the couch.

Darry looked around. “I’m down.”

Whistling and then whooping, Ace shot up her hand. “I wanna be on Two’s team!”

“Then it’s settled.” Declared Dally, slapping the new twenty-year-old on the shoulder. “Only opinion that matters is that of the birthday boy.”

“I think you mean birthday man.” Flexing a muscle, Soda grinned.

With a roll of his eyes, Darry shook his head. “Okay, knuckleheads. Neigh, can you get some paper to draw for teams?”

The thirteen-year-old nodded and leapt off the couch, rushing to his room to find something to write on and something to write with.

Johnny couldn’t help himself- he was still staring at Soda because of the moment he showed off his bicep. He knew his partner had strength but damn.

Soda caught his eye and had to chomp down on his tongue so he wouldn’t begin to guffaw. This is harder than I thought. He internally sighed and quickly stuck his tongue out at Johnny to try and make him laugh.

Johnny discreetly stuck out his middle finger.

“Okay! Darry, Dally, Steve, and me. Soda, Ace, Two-Bit, and Johnnycake.”

Ace cheered, taking a seat next to Two-Bit on the couch. Exchanging a pleased look, Johnny and Soda took the last two spots on the couch, sitting beside one another.

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When the officer came to the door and told them about Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, the first person Johnny’s head whipped around to was Soda, who already had Ponyboy cradled in his arms and was whispering words of comfort he certainly didn’t feel. He met Johnny’s eyes as they both began to cry silently. The latter stepped over and set a shaking hand on his back, rubbing it up and down.

We lost them. The only good example of love we had and they’re gone. Johnny accepted a hug from Ace as he kept a hand on his partner’s back. Holy shit. They’re dead. Our parents are dead. Their parents are dead. Darry’s parents are gone, Pony’s parents… Soda’s parents.

“You’re shaking, Johnny.” Ace sniffled, holding him tighter.

This’ll break them.

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Several months passed before any sort of normalcy was regained. Many days were spent in silence, or, even worse, spent arguing. Soda didn’t argue, but he was constantly trying to calm Darry and Ponyboy down, to separate them, to make sure they didn’t hurt one another beyond repair. He wouldn’t let them lose each other.

April had come barreling in. One week they were shoveling snow off the walkway and the next they were rubbing their irritated noses because of all the pollen coating their porch.

Johnny was beyond grateful when things were slightly better at the Curtis house, he missed spending time over there. Watching television with Pony, learning how to fix things from Darry, kissing Soda…

Though, even when things were eventually all right, everything was far from okay at the Cades’ house. Johnny was constantly being yelled at or ignored entirely. He preferred the latter, but either stung. Of course, he was used to it at that point. He was used to taking a beating, to smelling the stench of alcohol, and to hearing his mother tell him she wished he was never born. Still, he tried to be gone as much as possible. He found himself gravitating towards the lot, spending his time sitting against tires or lying on the hood of the broken car.

Most of the time he was there, he thought of what life could be like if he weren’t a Cade. He imagined a loving family. A father who held onto his shoulder and told him he was proud. A mother who kissed his forehead and asked how his day was. He knew it wasn’t much to ask for, the bare minimum, but compared to his family, it was a fever dream.

When he wasn’t daydreaming, he was keeping an eye out for anyone looking for trouble. Well, he was always keeping an eye out, even if he was getting lost in a made-up world.

And whenever he wasn’t doing that, he remembered what he wanted in the depths of his heart, the brokenness of his soul. The darkest parts of his mind. He remembered that he wanted to die.

This is what was on his mind when Soda finally found him in the lot on the warm April evening.

The setting sun cast an almost heavenly glow on the older boy, highlighting him in oranges and pinks that Johnny wished he could appreciate more. The backdrop also shone a light on how worried Soda was, displaying the pained expression morphing his face.

“Johnny?” He said quietly, walking over and sitting down beside him against the large tire. “I was lookin’ all over for you.”

“Sorry,” he replied blankly, barely glancing at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re just saying that so I won’t worry,”

“Yeah.”

Soda sighed, turning his head to observe his expression, trying to figure out what was bothering him. “What’s on your mind, Jack?”

“You don’t wanna know, Cola.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t wanna know.”

He paused for a moment, slowly looking at him. “I don’t want you to know.”

The small smile on his lips cracked, his whole face falling. “What… is it?” He tentatively held out a hand, hovering it above Johnny’s until he nodded his head, allowing him to grasp it. “Can you tell me, hon?”

“I… sometimes I just, a lot of the time, I want to… not be here, any-anymore. It’d be easier to be dead… I think.” He focused on his and Soda’s hands instead of his partner’s eyes. At least he hadn’t pulled away yet. That was good.

Soda swallowed loudly, sniffling a little. He didn’t cry, but the tears were brewing. “Johnny,”

“I know,”

“Did you, have you told Pony about this?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“So it’s just been you, thinkin’ about kil- alone?”

A strained sound crawled up from his throat. “Guess so.”

“I won’t let you leave all by your lonesome, Johnnycake. If you go, I go.”

“What?” Johnny’s eyes widened as he stared up at him. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

“I don’t think, I-I could live without you.”

“Sodapop-”

“I’m not messing with you, man. I love you, Johnny Cade.”

His breath hitched as he heard those words, words nearly no one had said to him before. That was shocking enough, but this ‘I love you’, this was coming from Soda, and it meant more than it would have coming from anyone else. “You sure?”

A laugh tickled Johnny’s ears. “300 percent.”

“I love you, Sodapop.”

“You ain’t going anywhere without me, you dig?”

“I dig.”

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

When Bob’s Mustang came screeching to a halt beside Johnny, he longed for nothing more than for Soda to be standing beside him.

It took the whole jumping and then some for his partner to finally be with him. Of course it was him who reached him first.

“Johnny?” Soda pulled him into his arms and rested him against his shoulder. Overwhelming fear filled his gut. He shook him gently, needing to make sure he was still breathing. “Hey, Johnnycake.”

The world seemed unusually quiet, almost peaceful for a brief moment as Johnny noticed the familiar arms that were suddenly holding him. “Soda?” He whispered, hoping to confirm that it was really him.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Soda responded in a soothing tone, very carefully pushing a strand of matted, bloodied hair away from Johnny’s severely wounded face. “Don’t talk. You’re gonna be okay.”

It had taken a long time after that for Johnny to finally calm down. Soda held him the entire time, sometimes trying to shush him, sometimes just listening in horror as he recounted the story.

Johnny didn’t think he would ever forget how wild Soda’s ocean blue eyes were that day.

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“I’ll marry you, then.” Soda declared, sitting beside Sandy on the back porch.

“I’m not going to let you do that, Sodapop.” She whispered, holding her stomach with one hand. She couldn’t seem to stop doing that since she had realized she was pregnant the previous week. “You have a life, a family.”

“So do you, San!”

“No, I don’t, not really. I’m not sure that my friends even like hanging out with me, and I know my parents hate me. I’ll be better off with my granny.”

He crossed his arms. “In Florida.”

She mirrored his gesture. “Yes. This isn’t your responsibility, hon. You have absolutely nothing to do with this.”

“Sandy-” his lip trembled as tears trailed down his face. “I wanna help you. You’re one of my best friends.”

“Friends, Pepsi. I got myself into this mess.”

“No. You didn’t. This wasn’t your fault. Adam-” he stopped when she looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Did you tell Rebecca?”

Now she did burst into tears, sobs filling the space between them. “No. I just- I just broke things off! I couldn’t bear to-to tell her.”

“You don’t gotta be ashamed of this, San.”

She gave him a look that said but I am. “I’m going to Florida, Soda. And… and you aren’t gonna change my mind, it’s made up.” Reaching out, she cupped his cheek in her hand. “Besides, you have Johnny. You can’t leave him.”

His eyes doubled in size and he flinched. “What?”

“Come on, I’m not blind. I know you better than most- I can tell you’re in love.” She stood on her toes and kissed his forehead. “I know you love me, and I know I love you, but we don’t love each other like that, and that’s okay. But you do love Johnny that way, and there’s no chance I’m gettin’ in between you two. I hope you guys stay in love, Sodapop. I really do.” With a labored breath, she ran a thumb over his cheek, gave him a quick hug, then rushed into the house, a few seconds later heading out the front door.

Soda stood in silence, staring at the space where she just was. I couldn’t save Johnny from being jumped, I couldn’t save Sandy from being assaulted. What am I able to do?

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“The hell you mean Johnny killed a soc?” Soda’s brows lowered, casting a shadow over his face. He stared at the paper in Darry’s shaking hands.

“Apparently he did it cause the kid tried to jump them again, I don’t know! How would I know? They’re gone, Sodapop.” Darry’s voice was harsh as he threw the newspaper down on the coffee table and stood up from his chair. “I’m going to call around, see if anyone’s seen ‘em.”

Soda sat down on the table and picked the paper up, staring first at his baby brother’s name, then letting his eyes wander over to Johnny’s name. “Dammit, Johnny. What’d you do?” Tears flowed from his eyes as he gripped onto the story with all the strength he had left. Are you going to come home? Are you going to bring my brother home?

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He didn’t know what to do. Soda was elated when they finally returned home, but it came with a huge load of pain. Johnny was burned, his burns were worse than anything Soda had ever seen. He couldn’t move his legs, couldn’t even feel them.

Sodapop wanted to visit him more than he did, but every single time he tried, either someone else was there or Johnny was asleep. He did sit with him while he slept, but usually Darry made him come home before his partner woke up.

One day, the day before the Rumble, Soda managed to visit him alone. He slipped into the stark white room, taking in Johnny’s current state. He somehow looked worse than Soda had remembered, even though he had just seen him the previous morning. “Jack?”

Johnny’s eyes opened instantly and a pained smile crept across his face. “Dr Pepper,” he croaked. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He shut the door behind him and hurried forward, pulling up a chair and sitting right beside him. “How are you, baby?”

“I’m tryin’, Soda. I really am.” He choked out, starting to cry. “Don’t know how-how much… more I can take.”

A sniff sounded throughout the room. “But Johnnycake, you’ll… you-you may not walk again but you can still live,”

“Maybe but-but it sure don’t… feel like it.”

“Is there anything I can do?” His tone was desperate.

“Can you kiss me?”

Soda nodded, standing up from his seat and leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss to his dry lips.

Johnny returned it to the best of his abilities, but he continued to cry through it. He didn’t want to leave this behind. He didn’t want to leave Soda, or Pony, or Dally, or any of them. They were his family, he finally just truly realized that. They didn’t deserve to be abandoned, and he didn’t want to do that to them. If only I’d felt this way since April.

When the kiss ended, Soda softly brushed away his tears. “I’m here for you, Johnny. I love you.”

“I love you.”

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If Soda had known Johnny didn’t want them to fight in the Rumble, he would’ve spent Johnny’s last few hours with him instead of hyping the gang up for the fight and punching the hell out of Soc boys.

There were few things he regretted more than fighting in that fight. Yeah, he was proud they won, but when Johnny told them fighting didn’t do, wouldn’t fix anything, he deflated like a balloon. He had disappointed Johnny- that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

He didn’t understand what Johnny meant when he told Ponyboy to ‘stay gold’, but he did know it hurt like hell when he asked Ponyboy to come closer and not him. He knew Pony was his best friend, that was never a question, but he ached for some last words directed to him.

The string of ‘no’s that spilled from Pony’s lips would stick with Soda until the day he died. That one word haunted every second of every day. He knelt down beside him and held him close, rocking him back and forth, shushing him, but he was utterly destroyed. There was no coming back from this.

The love of his life was dead, and maybe he could’ve kept him alive, but he hadn’t. And now he was gone.

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The weeks following Johnny and then Dally’s deaths were possibly the hardest weeks of Soda’s life. He was certain he would never face anything as painful as his parents’ deaths, but he seemed to be wrong. The anguish of no longer seeing Johnny quietly enter the house tore through his stomach, through his soul. The moments when he should’ve heard Dally whistling or taunting Two-Bit were taken over by listening to Darry’s worrying or Ponyboy’s shaky breathing.

It was not only tearing his brothers apart from one another, but it was tearing him apart from the inside out.

He knew he would inevitably break, but he wasn’t prepared for when he did. He wasn’t prepared to run out of the house.

But even after they all made up, even after Pony started chattering again and Darry remembered how to grin and called Soda “little buddy”, Soda didn’t feel any less broken.

In fact, it seemed to him he was more broken than before. How could they move on and he couldn’t? Why did that make any sense?

His birthday had passed. He was no longer the same age Johnny had been, the last age he ever would be. Now he was seventeen, and he had no clue what to do with that.

He found himself in the lot, sitting against the same tire he had been by when he first told Johnny that he loved him.

He also remembered the other thing he’d told him.

If you go, I go.

Death was constantly on Soda’s mind ever since his parents had died. It only worsened after everything that had happened. And now he didn’t just wonder about death, but he wondered about himself dying. He found the thoughts settling into his mind against his will at first, but then he realized he wanted to die.

It wasn’t something that happened only to other people, not anymore. It could happen to him.

It would happen to him.

It would happen to him much sooner than anyone expected.

He meant it when he said he didn’t think he could live without Johnny. He thought it then and he thought it now as he sat in the lot and stared out at the road in front of him. What was life without Johnny? No secret laughter, no holding hands, no wordless hugs. He loved his brothers more than he loved nearly anything, but he couldn’t talk to them about why he was taking Johnny’s death so hard. He loved them, but he also loved to imagine them being happy, not being weighed down by his ever-present grief, his secret.

He meant it when he said if Johnny left, he would, too. He would follow him anywhere, even if anywhere meant into the darkness of death.

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