Chapter Text
Ch.1
Memories I don’t remember
Griffin had gotten used to the fog. Well, you never truly got "used" to it, not really. It was all so different, and yet all so familiar to him these days.
After F..Fi..Finnley? Was that his name? After the last boy had freed them all, Griffin wasn’t sure what to do with himself. None of them did. The thing about the afterlife(?) that nobody really tells you, is that it’s a lot less clear than assumed. Ghosts? Heaven? Rebirth? Well, technically he was still on earth. He guessed that ghosts were closest, but it wasn’t like how it was described at all. There was no power, no possession, no intent. It felt more like a half-finished project. Everything felt fuzzy, like he was barely there. Really, it was rather instinctual. Every dead person was just their core. Usually, though, it ended up being what your core was before you died.
Anger, sadness, fear, regret…anything, really.
He could see it, seeing all the other dead boys die and come back dead. Despite being foggy, he had been there long enough to get an idea of how this worked. Even if he wasn’t sure what it was. Being dead, maybe?
Doesn’t matter anymore, he guessed. Finnley had already killed the evil man. The boys had been separated after that. He wasn’t sure where to, though.
Griffin knew where he was. No where.
Yeah. Being dead sure did affect how you viewed things like time, distance, places…
But..today felt odd. Different. (Did it really count as today? He lost track of day and night so long ago..)
He felt the fog grow. And grow. And it grew till he could barely see, barely feel, only hear.
“Oh, look at him. He went too soon, no?”
“You have too much empathy for them, [...].”
…sure. Voices. Wasn’t the oddest thing he’s seen(heard?). Then again, he wasn’t sure he felt things as much anymore. Except for two things he had oddly, always kept : the want to know things, and fear. Confusion came and went.
“This is so sad! Please, [...]! You can help them, can’t you?”
Griffin could feel the pull of consideration on his soul.
“Well…I suppose…It wouldn’t hurt. It would be odd, though. I’m not sure all of them would retain their memories of-”
“Oh, pleaseee! I can’t stand this any longer! It’s so..tragic! You know how I feel about those, [...].”
Griffen could hear a sigh, and felt his soul start to mold.
“Alright, alright. I can rewind all of it, but I can’t reform them all..”
“You can choose, can’t you?”
Griffin felt the twists and pulls, starting to burn.
“What was the saying..Save the first for last? Something like that..”
Griffin felt one final twist before-
CRACK.
..
Griffin gasped, immediately sitting up. He felt the weight of a physical body crashing onto him, everything too much, too tight, too soon for Griffin’s poor soul to consume as fast as it did.
He let out a noise, hands immediately coming to his head, covering. The banging in his head came all too soon, the rust of achiness rushing into his body all too fast. He felt tears in his eyes start to build, broken sobs spilling out without his input.
It was all too much. He could feel everything, and he was overwhelmed. Deeply.
It took too long for the feeling to go away. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in a ball shape, but by the time he slowly peaked out from under his arms, the clock on the wall read 2:07am.
What..what? The confusion fluttered, even as he stayed as still as a bird still in its shell. What had happened?
He slowly looked around, flinching at every touch of mattress, pillow, and blanket that dared to touch him. He wasn’t used to..this. The feeling of bone and flesh was too much. His senses were so..loud.
He was..in a room. He briefly remembered it, this room. It was..his? Not Griffin’s, but his. Griffin before, before he got..
He was flooded with confusion. He was back? Why- how was he back? He wanted to move, to escape, but he wasn’t sure he could stand the feeling of the floor. Of shoes holding his feet. Of gravity holding him down.
He eyed a framed photo on the bedside, in the side of his vision. He slowly peeled his arms further back to see, but Griffin didn’t dare to move his head.
It was..him. Griffin from before. He looked so..different. Griffin didn’t remember how he looked before, but he wasn’t sure he liked staring at it. So he didn’t, and looked at the woman standing beside before-him in the photo.
He didn’t remember her. She had her arm wrapped around his shoulder, and looked like an older woman version of him, but he didn’t recognize her at all. It creeped him out. Griffin felt like he should, like his soul pulled him both towards and away from the image, divided.
His eyes drifted back to the clock, watching it tick for 23 minutes. Griffin wasn’t sure he could even breathe manually yet.
When he finally felt like his body was molded to his soul like dried glue, Griffin slowly, slowly slid his legs over, getting out of the bed like he was made out of glass. He felt so, so heavy. Like his small bones and muscles were too much still.
Just as slow, he slid on his shoes, feeling like a baby deer without any support.
Griffin wasn’t sure what to do next, but staying in the unfamiliar house wasn’t something he wanted to consider.
He walked out of the room, silently opening the door. Griffin walked like he was as light as a feather- even lighter than his body. He made zero noise, despite his shoes on.
The boy quickly came to a pause in his plans. He wandered around the house for a while, quickly figuring out that he did, in fact, not remember this house as much as he thought he did.
When Griffin finally discovered the exit, he felt his lungs collapse in relief. The feeling was light and barely there through the fog, but his alive body was heavy and over-the-top.
Griffin still hadn’t quite addressed the fact that he was alive again. He wasn’t sure he had the feelings to.
But, nevertheless, the living boy decided to walk. And he walked. And walked. He walked all across town, really. Counting his steps- sort of..
One, one, two, one, one, two, one, one, two…
Griffin never claimed to be the smartest, and taking a walk at two am sure didn’t help. But he truly didn’t care. He knew he’d fight for his life next time anyone tried to threaten it.
His life..the grabber..
He pushed the thoughts away. Nope, no processing yet. He needed to walk.
He walked down every street, every place his feet took him. He kept his eyes peeled, feeling the tension in his shoulders. Just because he wasn’t used to being alive didn’t mean Griffin was clueless. Not anymore.
Griffin didn’t realise how long he had truly walked till the sky was brighter, and he saw the paperboy out.
Paperboy. He paused his steps, frozen. Suddenly aware that he was in his pjs, alone, and looked like a mess.
Did he remember? Griffin wasn’t sure if he would, watching him bike down the street in peace, barely acknowledging Griffin.
Griffin felt a familiar pull in his chest. A need. A need like how his lungs needed to breathe, his heart needed to beat, his eyes needed to blink.
Griffin Stagg needed to see Paperboy like how he needed air. It was an odd feeling, and he didn’t even really compute it fully before his legs were moving.
Paperboy paused at the boy staring up at him, in front of the road so he couldn’t peddle away. They were silent for a moment. It was a little awkward, not that Griffin noticed.
Mrrr.. He was here now, in front of the boy he felt such a strong pull to, but uh, death sure didn’t help social skills much.
Griffin stared. Paperboy blinked.
“Hello.” Griffin spoke first, quiet, soft, and a little breathy. He still wasn’t used to the loudness of the living- and he had been walking forever. He almost hoped, silently begging to the world that the boy remembered him. Paperboy blinked a few times, before giving a half awkward smile.
“Hey, man. I don’t think I’ve seen you out before..” He trailed off, before looking Griffin up and down. “Are you new to town?”
Griffin felt his emotions under the fog crumble into brief sadness. Huh. Seems he didn’t remember. Or maybe he remembered and was hiding it?
“No. I, uh, live..a little while from here..Don’t worry, though. Most people don’t notice me anyway, hah.” Griffin half reassured. He could tell it probably sounded bad, but Griffin couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just tried to not sound awkward. How do you talk again? Words felt off on his lips.
Paperboy didn’t seem to be relieved at all, looking more awkward and guilty. “Shit, man. That sucks.”
His eyes flickered to the house they were standing at, and then to Griffin, swiping over his clothing again. He hesitated a second before speaking. “Uhh..I’m almost done with my route. I could ride you back home, if you want. My name’s Billy.”
Griffin blinked for once, tilting his head a little. The name sounded wrong, and something Paperboy would’ve yelled at you for if you even let the start of it slip off your tongue. Griffin decided quickly that out of respect, he wouldn’t be calling him that. He felt the pull in his soul grow, grow over the fog.
“...Sure. I’m Griffin, Paperboy.”
..
The two boys waited outside of the school, already there about 20 minutes before it opened. Turns out, the lady that was in the photo in Griffin’s room had been his mother. Griffin didn’t really care to listen to the stranger when she scolded him with concern. He was quick to get back out and ride with Paperboy to school when the boy had offered.
Paperboy was leaning against the bike stands, laughing at Griffin. “What the fuck, Griffin?”
Griffin was trying to sit down normally. Turns out, after being broken like he did in death, attempting to look normal sitting was hard.
One of his legs was bent, pushed under him like a stand. The other was bent sideways, like he was criss crossing his leg. Griffin’s arms were a mess as well, one on the grass, the other pushed under his leg.
He had to say, it was much more natural to him than walking was.
“It’s comfortable.”
“How is that comfortable?” Paperboy laughed, dimples showing very clearly.
Griffin didn’t realise how much the boy had laughed before he joined the dead. He was so..so peaceful. It made Griffin want to listen to him laugh and smile for years, till the boy physically couldn’t do it anymore.
Griffin’s headache started to grow the more people showed up, even if he tried to ignore it and focus on paperboy. The sounds, smells, and sights were just too much for him already.
As the doors opened and school officially started(growing much louder), Griffin had a feeling it wouldn’t get much better. He hoped he could just skip all his classes and disappear into a corner somewhere in silence.
That would be nice.