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Thank You	By : synfulxvengeance Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Avenged Sevenfold Views: 1107 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avenged Sevenfold, or know the guys. This is entirely FICTION, and I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Thank You
- 1
This was his secret, and his alone. No one else could know; no one else needed to know. They would take him away, if they knew. Separated again, never to see his best friend….No, more than that. Love. That’s what it was. That’s what he was. Love. His, and his alone.
He sat quietly in the middle of the too large room, resting himself against the back of the couch. It was too large without him there. There were no other footsteps thumping against the wood floor, no voice calling him in to the kitchen to start an all-night drinking binge, no warmth next to him during the cold nights. Empty.
The shades over the windows shielded him from the outside world. This was his sanctuary, and his nightmare. Every small thing brought back memories, some he would cry over, others that made him laugh out loud. He had no idea what time it was to the rest of the world, but it didn’t matter to him. Time was frozen in here, and everything was in his control. Curiosity stirred him to glance at the clock on the small table near the window. 12:47. Day or night, light or dark? Whatever. For all he knew, it could have been wrong. That was his clock, and he wasn’t about to touch it.
Memory stirred around in his mind, remembering the first time he brought that clock home. He absolutely hated it; it didn’t match anything else in the house, and it was downright ugly. He smiled to himself as he remembered him trying to reason that even ugly things deserved a home, even if it was just a clock. His smile turned into a pained grimace as his heart ached at the memory. He missed how the sun made its way through the window every day, with him standing in front of it, absorbing all of the rays.
He hated that clock. Hated the window. Hated the sun. Hated everything that was linked to him. He hated how he allowed everything to stay as it was, just to plague him. Plague…he smirked at the irony. Of all the words….
His unsteady hand dragged across the dusty floor, searching for his new best friend. Liquor. She was the only one that could understand the pain. She never judged him, never told him to snap out of it. Never told him that he was slowly destroying himself. No, she loved him no matter what. What he looked like, what he sounded like, everything; it didn’t matter to her. She filled the void in his chest with her soft kiss, with her warm embrace.
Wrapping his tattooed hand around her slim neck, he brought her to his lips, tipping her back and reveling in the slight burn as she passed down his throat, joining with her other halves. His glazed, brown eyes stared at the squared bottle in his hands; it was more than three-quarters of the way gone. He hadn’t been sitting there that long, but she was almost gone….leaving him, just like he did.
He slowly shut his lifeless eyes, relishing the feeling that alcohol always brought. Everything was warm. There was no pain, no sadness, no feeling. The only thing he felt was the weight of his limbs, and the rise and fall of his chest.
Living….What was the point now? He couldn’t remember. It seemed like forever ago since he truly felt alive. When he could feel his heart beat behind his ribs, when he could feel laughter bubble up from inside, when he could feel himself enjoying every moment of the day….and night. Drunken touches and sloppy kisses electrifying his skin, slowly becoming one with each other. The burning feeling that took over his senses when they would…. Now, it was just another memory that he longed to be a reality again. But, if he wasn’t here, then it couldn’t be reality.
Finishing the bottle in his hand with one long swig, he allowed it to fall from his weak fingers, the clanking of thick glass hitting the hard floor echoing through the house, and bouncing off the walls of his skull. No noise would ever break him from his reverie, except for his voice.
Faintly, he felt his eyes swell with water, a single tear escaping its boundaries. He felt the tear leave a trail down his cheek, dampening his unkempt face. Another jumped from its confines, running after its friend. Another, and another. His head swam with memories of their years together, some hazed from the alcohol. Falling sideways onto the unforgiving floor, he allowed audible sobs to wrack his body. He slowly curled into himself as he whispered his name to no one in particular….not like anyone would answer.
He had no idea how long he lay there. All he knew was his eyes burned, his sobs becoming dry. Slowly calming himself, his fatigued body screamed at him to go to sleep. He fought off the urge, slowly opening his sore eyes. His gaze was met with a pair of covered feet staring back at him, slightly torn jeans meeting the shoes. He blinked rapidly; there was no way anyone could get into his house…
“Come on, Brian. I leave for a bit, and I find you like this?”
His breathing hitched, ears perking at the familiar voice. His voice. He stayed on the floor, fearing that if he moved, he would disappear again. Fearing that his secret would be found out. He came to him when he drank, and if that’s what it took, then so be it. He was tired of being alone.
He hazily registered a pair of warm hands gripping his shoulders, hoisting him into a sitting position. His head buzzed with thoughts and the sudden movement, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. One of the hands moved to his face, wiping away the fresh tears falling. The hand slowly raised his head, his eyes quickly shutting tight.
He heard his distinct chuckle, chest blazing from the warmth it brought. Soft lips found their way to his forehead, his tense body relaxing.
“Please, look at me…”
He opened his eyes apprehensively, raising them to meet the pair of shining blue staring back at him. It was impossible, but here he was, he was back….
“Good, you’re alive. I thought you were a zombie or something at first. Brian, why are you doing this to yourself?”
Guilt seeped into his body; he felt terrible for making him worry. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He felt the sincerity in his voice, which made him feel even worse. But, in a strange way, it made him feel amazing. He finally felt that sense of love again.
“I’m sorry….I just….I miss you.”
He sounded horrible. His voice was raspy and hoarse, a mix of booze and crying murdering his vocal chords. He watched his face soften, sadness evident in those blue orbs, the ones he found himself getting lost in every time he looked into them.
“I know, baby. I’m not leaving you again. I love you.”
His body fell limp as he felt strong arms wrap around him, a smile across his lips. The happy, complete feeling was back again. His heart finally felt whole.
“I love you, Jimmy,” he managed to croak out before slipping into unconsciousness, the whiskey finally catching up to him.
---
Matt sighed to himself. It killed him to see his friend like this. He had found out about Brian and Jimmy’s relationship long ago, but kept his mouth shut out of respect for his band mates. Gently lifting the guitarist off the floor, he brought him to his room, placing him on the bed. Grabbing the crumpled sheets at the end of the bed, he pulled them over his sleeping form.
Turning to leave, he tensed as a hand shot out from the covers, grabbing on to his shirt for dear life. He looked back at the other man, his face contorted with the threat of a nightmare.
“You promised…” he mumbled in his pained sleep.
Matt felt his heart tear at his friend’s misery. He knew doing this was terrible, but if it allowed the guitarist to sleep soundly, then maybe once wouldn’t hurt.
Slowly, so as not to disturb the other, he pulled the covers back, slipping into the bed, holding him close. He smiled slightly as the hand in his shirt slackened slightly, Brian’s face burying itself against his chest. He gently stroked his black spiked hair, humming quietly in his ear. He felt the tension escape from him, as his own eyes began to grow heavy with sleep.
“Thank you, Matty…”
And he was asleep.
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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! This is my first story posted, so I hope you enjoyed. I'll post others at some point, if you're interested. Please leave reviews, even if it's an "OMG U SUKKKK" one, at least you took the time to tell me I suck!
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