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Jay’s sitting at the piano, playing a soft melody, whatever comes to mind, nimble fingers smoothly moving across the keys. His whole body is working with the music, swaying side-to-side alongside the soft notes. He glances up, catches sight of the urn sitting atop the piano, Matt’s younger face etched into it, staring back.
Matt’s family had decided cremation was the best option—Jay couldn’t blame them, his corpse was in no shape for an open casket funeral. Skin burned taut, one eyeball missing from its socket, the other a dead grey. He’d shattered his teeth upon the electricity shooting through his muscles, clenched too tight. Part of his muscles and tendons had completely snapped, entirely frayed by the voltage. No one needed that as their last memory of Matt Johnson.
He tries not to look for too long, feels like Matt is really there staring at him, judging him for all the mistakes he’s made. He continues on, anything to distract him from the memory of his dead friend, but it’s no use. His hands begin to shake, and he hits the wrong keys one too many times, before he’s softly gasping, ripping his hands away from the piano. His breath stutters as he tries to regain control of it, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs in a self-soothing motion, rocking himself back and forth. He squeezes his eyes shut, humming a soft note to himself. Suddenly, a loud thud sounds behind him, and he’s up in an instance, tripping over the bench of the piano, scrambling to turn around.
Matt’s standing in the center of the living room, at least, what was left on him when authorities found him. His skin’s a ghastly pale white, pulled tight over his bones, the texture of leather. In the parts that have been burned off, his bone and muscles show, a charred black from the flames. His hair is fringed off in spots around his head, and his eyebrows are gone, skull showing where they should be. His empty eye socket glistens brightly, and the eye that’s still there, a bright grey, is filled with more rage than Jay ever thought possible, directed right at him. He stumbles a step forward, hunched over, and shuffles slowly towards Jay.
“It’s all your fault, Bird,” he spits the nickname out like it’s something that physically hurts him to say. “You thought you could live without me. Without you, I’d still be here,” he continues, voice dripping with malice. He continues his slow stride to Jay, who’s completely frozen, not able to move a muscle.
“I didn’t—didn’t mean to—” he tries, but his teeth are chattering so hard against each other that it won’t come out. Matt’s less than a foot from him now, and his words cause a smile to grow on his face, all gums without his teeth. That’s when Jay realizes there’s blood coating the inside of his mouth, and it spills steadily down the side of his lips when he stretches them wide.
“Didn’t—didn’t mean to kill me?” Matt snarls, finally face to face with him. His breath reeks of—something, Jay’s not sure what. Burnt rubber is the only thing that comes to mind. Jay can only stare as Matt—zombie Matt?—raises his hands, wrapping them steadily around Jay’s throat, pushing hard.
Jay’s knees buckle, and his ass slams into the bench below, back hitting the piano keys, playing an awful tune. Matt’s hands are as cold as icicles, colder than icicles, and they’re surprisingly strong. Matt leans forward, whispers quietly, “We could’ve had a nice life, Jaybird. Could’ve had anything you wanted, but look at what you did. You ruined it,” some of the blood rushes down his face, begins to drip steadily onto the side of Jay’s mouth.
His eyes are tearing up, and he’s gasping roughly, anything to get a steady inhale. He raises his hands, starts to scratch at Matt's face, and immediately regrets it. His fingernails immediately rip up skin, coating his fingers in congealed blood, and it causes him to choke again, this time on a sob.
The tears begin to steadily fall down his face, and Matt just laughs, tells him, “What’re you crying for Bird, isn’t this what you wanted?” he’s laughing now, glee in his one eye, pressing down harder onto Jay’s sternum.
“No, no, no,” he chokes out, but it comes out more as a whimper, still fighting against Matt, to no avail. The sides of his visions begin to get fuzzy, all black edges. He’s still crying, and Matt’s still laughing.
“Y’know Bird, I always cared about you, just wanted you happy, but you wouldn’t let me,” he growls lowly, the black edges in his vision grow larger, and something warm crawls up his back.
“Jay—Jay!” someone’s shouting, and he's officially in the dark.
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Jay’s eyes snap open, and he shoots up in his bed, pulling his knees towards his chest. It’s dark out still, and his eyes aren’t adjusting fast enough. There’s drying sweat on his bare back, cooling uncomfortably to his skin. His face is all wet, and he promptly realizes that it’s tears, still freshly rolling down his face. His breaths are coming out ragged and rough, his hands are on his chest where he desperately claws, prying for more air. He looks down and sees bright red marks growing where his blunt fingernails are dragging. It reminds him so much of his dream, of Matt’s skins peeling off so easily, that it causes a sudden wail to burst from him, and then he’s choking all over again, not able to pull in a breath.
Gentle but calloused hands grab at his wrists, pulling them away from his chest, and pulling them into someone’s lap in front of him.
A shaky but tender voice fills the room, “Hey, hey, hey, none of that. You’re just gonna hurt yourself, Bird,” Matt whispers to him, face scrunched in worry, eyes frantically looking across Jay’s face, trying to figure out what to do. He’s sat across from Jay, legs tugged underneath one another, and he’s wearing nothing except for boxers too tight for him. In any other instance, Jay would be flushed all over.
Not now though, instead, Jay rips his hands from Matt’s and launches himself across the bed and wraps his limbs around him like a spider monkey, head tucked just under Matt’s chin, as he curls himself into him. His arms are wormed right below his armpits, hands planted into his upper back near his shoulders, he’s tucked at an angle, face looking outward to the side, and he’s crying all over again, shaking like a leaf.
Matt hesitantly raises his arms, bringing them around Jay’s shoulders, and pulling him flush against his chest, chin landing to rest on the crown of Jay’s head. Jay can feel when he takes a deep breath, rustling his hair as it escapes through his nose.
“Alright, Jaybird, I got you, I got you. I don’t know what the fuck happened, I just...” At this, he breaks off for a second, trying to gather the words. “I woke up and you were—you were screaming my name so, so loud. You really scared the shit outta me, man,” he breathes out, huffing a chuckle at the end.
“It’s okay, though, I’m here now. I’m gonna fix it, I gotcha,” he says into his hair, voice vibrating Jay’s head. He feels a rush of warmth run down his spine at this and figures he’d be okay dying like this. Matt’s rubbing slowly up and down Jay’s arm, the pressure feels heavenly, and he’s starting to feel himself calm down.
It’s been over three weeks since his Matt died, let himself be killed for Jay and his never ending stupidity. Three weeks since Jay went back, changed the whiteboard, and crossed his fingers that things would go back to normal. They have—mostly. It’s Jay that hasn’t been normal, really. Every time he looks at Matt, he can’t help but think about how it’s not right. He acts just like Matt always did, sure, but Jay knows, knows that this is a different Matt, different from the one he left behind. When he closes his eyes, he sees it, sees the lightning strike Matt, all the gore that followed, the awful scent that permeated the air, the smell of his friend's body burning.
It’s been a week since the nightmares started, since zombie Matt began plaguing his dreams. He kills him differently each time. Sometimes, he strangles him, other times he stabs him, most of the time, though, he shoots him. That last one is a whole can of worms Jay isn’t too keen on opening right now. He’s always mean, too. Says a lot of awful things to Jay, things that he knows are just his own brain spiraling, but it still hurts anyways. He feels a lot of guilt, more than he thinks he can handle on most days. Even though it’s “fixed” now, he can’t help but wonder, wonders what it’d be like if he was still in that awful timeline, still in a world without Matt.
He makes a sound like a whimper, nuzzling his face harder into Matt, trying to merge their bodies into one. Matt shushes him, smoothing a hand down the back of his head, Jay swears he feels something suspiciously like a kiss hit the top of his head, but doesn’t know if it’s his imagination or not. They sit like that for a few moments longer, just basking in each other’s warmth, until Jay’s tears slow and he’s just sniffling quietly, head beginning to pound steadily, sinuses stuffed and clogged.
He twists himself and pulls back slightly, peers up through blurry vision, and locks eyes with Matt. He stares back, giving Jay a gentle smile, hands still on his shoulders. “You okay, Bird? You were pretty freaked out there, I’ve never seen you—” Matt’s hastily interrupted as Jay surges forward, slamming his mouth against his.
The kiss is…awkward, at the very least. Matt’s knocked off balance by the speed in which Jay throws himself at him and he tumbles back on the bed, as Jay straddles his hips, legs bent on either side, Matt grabs his shoulders to help steady him, and pushes his mouth up into his. It’s clear he’s not a very experienced kisser, as he shoves his tongue into Jay’s mouth and clashes his teeth into his own. Jay splutters lightly, pulling back and uses Matt’s shoulders as leverage, smile adorning his features. “Dude, you fucking suck at this,” he teases, Matt pouting back up at him.
“Well, I’m sorry, Captain Sex, not all of us were a slut like you were,” he whines, thrashing under Jay’s grip on him, brings his hands to Jay’s face, and yanks him back down. This time, it’s much slower, carefully moving against each other. Matt’s hands move to wrap around Jay’s shoulders, brushing a hand through his hair.
Jay pulls back momentarily, “Matt—fuck MJ, I’m so sorry…I don’t know why it took me this long—“ he tries, before Matt yanks a strand of hair at the base of his neck, making him mewl—embarrassingly so.
“Shut up, shut the fuck up, man. We’re here now, so who cares?” he rushes out breathlessly, pushing up to meet Jay again. They continue like that for a few seconds, before Matt pulls back carefully, yawns loudly, jaw cracking with the effort. Jay stares down at him, eyebrow raising in question, Matt flushes slightly, sheepishly smiling as he shrugs at him, lips glistening red.
“Seriously?” Jay questions, chuckling quietly to himself. Matt squawks at him, slapping his hand into Jay’s chest, which just makes Jay throw his head back and cackle loudly. He continues laughing, missing the fond smile creeping up Matt’s face, who fake huffs at him.
He eventually settles, eyes squinting with the force of his smile, and stares back down at Matt. “Alright you big baby, let’s go to bed then, we’ll continue this tomorrow,” he tells him, swinging his leg off Matt, and crawls back towards the top of the bed. Matt just rolls his eyes, shaking his head lightly, and follows suit.
Matt lays down first, throws his arm to the side, and stares at Jay with his eyes wide, eyebrows raised expectantly. Jay shuffles towards him, laying down in the crook of his arm, settles his head flat against Matt’s surprisingly cushioned pec, and throws his arm across his stomach. He nuzzles in as Matt tightens his arm around Jay, bringing his hand up to play with Jay’s hair, the other running his fingers up the arm around his stomach.
Jay half-hazardously throws a leg over Matt’s, tightening his koala-like hold on him. Matt hisses as Jay’s toes make contact with his calf, “Fuck, Bird, your feet are freezing,” he whispers out, shudder going down his spine.
“Guess you’re just gonna have to warm ‘em up, then,” he slurs back, eyes closing as sleep wraps his head in a warm blanket.
Matt just huffs at that, Jay’s head lifts with the movement, “Guess so,” he mutters back, tugging a strand of Jay’s hair. He just hums, words feeling like too much work at the moment.
They lay there for a few seconds, Jay in the haze between sleep and wakefulness, and just as he thinks he’s falling under, Matt’s voice splinters through the silence, “Do you wanna talk about it, Birdie?” he asks carefully. At first, Jay doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, until his brain catches up, and his eyes snap open. He lifts his head slightly, looks up at Matt, who has a look of worry etched in his features.
He thinks for a moment, thinks of the Matt he’s lost, and shakes his head. “Not now, but I’ll tell you eventually, promise,” he murmurs to him, settling his head back onto Matt’s pec.
Matt’s hums back softly, “Whatever you need, Jay. I’ll always be here,” he tells him softly, rubbing circles into his shoulder. Jay shudders at that, kisses into the center of Matt’s chest, and murmurs, “Goodnight Matt. M’love you,” then turns his head back and closes his eyes.
Matt’s breath stutters before replying, “G’night, love you too, Jaybird,” just as Jay’s consumed by the peaceful bliss of sleep. It’s the first dreamless night he’s had in a week.