Work Text:
There’s a knock on her door.
Julie calls, “Come in,” a little belatedly, all her focus on the book she hasn’t been able to put down since Mr. Wilson recommended it to her last week. She hears the door open, but if she can just finish this page…
She puts a finger on her stopping place and finally looks up, only to lose all interest in her book the second she sees all three of her ghost boys stacked head over head over head in her bedroom doorway.
“Oh my god,” she says, laying her book aside. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Luke scoffs, like the idea is just so ludicrous, he can’t believe she even suggested it. “We just missed you!”
He starts to bound forward, but Alex puts out an arm to hold him back, smiling politely. “Hi, Julie. May we come in?”
She giggles. “Sure.”
Luke poofs the ten feet over, cause he’s dramatic, settling on his stomach at the foot of her bed so his legs hang over her ottoman. Alex rolls his eyes and walks over to sit at her desk, swiveling her chair back and forth. Reggie, with no hesitations, reservations, or even any outward acknowledgement that he’s acting any differently than his bandmates, clambers over Luke to snuggle up against Julie’s side.
And then he looks between Luke and Alex like, Come on, guys.
Alex raises a questioning eyebrow at Julie, a subtle, respectful request for permission, while Luke fully breaks out the puppy eyes and pout. Julie rolls her eyes, because she has to keep up appearances here, but ultimately beckons them over.
It’s only been a few months since Julie’s desperate prayer brought her boys back from the brink of nonexistence. At the beginning, they couldn’t stop touching each other, all four of them, like they were all collectively paranoid that if they let go, they’d lose the ability to touch altogether. They’ve backed off some, since, as the boys have gotten settled into their new after-afterlives, so it’s been a while since they’ve all cuddled up to each other like this.
It’s nice. She missed it.
“Whatcha reading?” Luke asks, chin looped over her shoulder.
Julie holds her book up so they can see. “Mr.—uh. Bobby recommended it to me.”
She tenses involuntarily. Trevor Wilson is still sort of a sore subject with the boys, though they’ve talked and nobody’s exploded. But Reggie just goes oooh and makes grabby hands at the book until she hands it over so he can read the back cover, and Luke just makes a disinterested sort of hum and wiggles around so his leg is slung half over Julie’s, and Alex just says, “Does it have frogs in it? I remember Bobby reading a lot of books with frogs in them.”
This sparks an argument, threefold, about a) whether Alex’s memory is serving him correctly regarding the subject of Bobby Shaw’s reading material, b) whether Bobby ever actually read any books at all or if he just acted like he did, and c) whether or not anybody cared. Julie leans her head back against her pillows and closes her eyes, letting the boys’ voices wash over her like a gentle ocean breeze, or the prettiest song.
She missed them, too. She’s glad they’re here.