Forevermore

All I feel is everything
I can't invent the words to tell you
I never cared for anything
But if you left I'd never let you
  
  The seat beside the bed had a groove in it from all the times he'd sat in the exact same position as he did now. He stared at the clawed hand, naturally curled now even when only his gaze touched it, so used was it to being clasped tightly. The tattoo on it stood out like blood on snow. He'd promised he was going to get it removed soon, or tattoo his new love's name over it. But the accident had happened before he could.
  Ashley had never realised how much he loved Andy until they told him he may never wake up again. He'd never known how hopeless and desperate he'd feel without that huge personality spilling from every part of the tall thin body and filling every part of the room. From the body he had only just begun to memorize. He wished he'd paid more attention.
  It was just over a year and a half since it had happened. They'd been playing a festival, half way through the set, when part of the stage had collapsed. No one had died, thank god. Ashley and Jake had managed to escape with just a few cuts and bruises. Jinxx had snapped both his legs and CC's left arm was constantly held at a stiff angle these days.
  But it was Andy, his sweet Andy, only twenty-one, who had been hurt the most. When the screaming had died down and the stage deemed stable enough to rescue the band, they'd found the boy crushed under three girders, numerous bones broken, head weeping red onto his black mane, unconscious but somehow, miraculously, breathing. The two had been a couple for just a few months at this stage. Ashley had been taking it much like previous relationships; fun, easy, open. He'd never thought much about where Andy's "I love you" came from, or how deep down it was felt.
  As Ashley cradled the boy in the ambulance he cursed himself for not realising Andy really and truly meant it. He thought of all the times in the dead of night he'd heard muffled cries into the pillow beside him, which were apparently always "nothing". Was it his fault? Did Andy know he hadn't meant it as strongly as he acted? He felt it now. Now Andy was dying in his arms. He wanted the boy to be his forevermore. He swore he'd make it up to him when he woke up, swore he'd show Andy how much he loved him, that he could be a serious, exclusive boyfriend. Andy would never shed another tear, as long as he woke up. And he wouldn't let go of his hand until he did.

I'd hold your heart inside a death grip
Till my fingertips turned bloody black and blue

  But Andy hadn't woken up. He'd turned twenty-two in a hospital bed, comatose, as his boyfriend and mother wept through his friends' sombre Happy Birthday dear Andy.
  He was almost twenty-three now, and still he laid there, eyes closed, unmoving, hooked up to multiple life support machines Ashley was too afraid to count. He'd always been madly skinny, but now each of his bones was outlined clearly, his gaunt skin stretched taught across them. Ashley was almost afraid to stroke his cheek these days, in case those sharp cheekbones cut him.
  The hospital didn't let him stay at Andy's side constantly. They had for the first few days, but eventually they'd pressured Ashley into taking shifts with Amy and Brock. Now they restricted them to visiting hours. The nurses hadn't said as much, but Ashley thought they were trying to wean him off Andy. They would make comments that had a not so subtly hidden meaning of "don't you have a job, a life besides this man who isn't going to wake up?"
  Black Veil Brides hadn't toured since the accident. There hadn't even been one comment about replacing Andy. Andy was Black Veil Brides. It had been obvious to the other four from the moment they'd joined that if Andy left the whole shebang went with him. The fans loved them to death, but the band was built on the dreams of that boy. Chris had said once, about a few months into the coma "it'll be ok. The longer he's out, the more he'll dream. And the more he dreams, the more ideas he'll have. See when he's up and about and making us build all of those dreams, we'll wish he was back in the freaking coma."
  Jake had snorted and asked since when had CC had so much insight, hadn't he been drinking out of date eggnog a few minutes previous and it had almost been like old times, except then Jinxx had done an impression of Andy trying to work out how alcohol could go off, even if it was dairy based, and how did eggnog even come into fruition, and the laughter had been cut short by silence. They had decided then that replacing Andy, even temporarily, was out of the question. They'd wait for him, like the brothers they were.
  "No matter how long we have to," Ashley had said quietly and the other three nodded and raised a glass of youth and whiskey to their fallen angel.

The rest of this heart lies
in your darkened eyes, awake

  A nurse came in, smiling and greeting him interrupting his train of thought. This was one of Andy's more frequent carers; Ashley had spoken to get her several times over the past year and a half.
  "Hi Ashley, long time no see, how've you been?" she shot him a look that was all cascading blonde waves and big Bambi eyes. Before Andy, seemingly decades ago, that would've secured a girl at least a spot in Ashley's maybe pile. Now he had no interest in Bambi, he wanted Scar.
  "Uh, ok I guess Emily," he bit his lip, sparing her a quick glance before his eyes turned back to Andy's lids. "I haven't seen you in a while."
  "I took time off you visit my family," she shrugged. "My sister's just gone through a really rough divorce; she needed some sibling time to get through it."
  "Great, great…" Ashley mumbled, not paying attention. Why did Andy never move a muscle? He just wanted a sign his boy hadn't left him.
  "Actually, she's staying with me in LA for a few weeks now," the nurse said it casually enough, but the look she gave him showed she had been planning out these words for hours, possibly days. "She's still upset over her jerk ex-husband, I think it would do her the world of good to get her back out there, you know?" She reached over Andy to remove the empty bag from the IV, replacing it with a fresh one.
  "Yeah."
  "You should totally come out with us!" Emily exclaimed like the idea had just hit her. She leaned over Andy and rolled back his eyelids. "I know you and Andrew are…well you know…" she pulled a face. "But there's nothing wrong with having a good time! You're always here; it's got to put a damper on your social life. Sharon, I've told her so much about you, she really wants to meet you…"
  She prattled on and on about how a gorgeous guy liked him shouldn't be wasted in a hospital ward, how bisexual was one of Sharon's turn ons, how nothing had to come of it, but it was probably time he started trying to move on. Ashley didn't listen to a word of it.
  Andy's eyes stared up unseeing at the ceiling. Even people who didn't find him attractive had to admit Andrew Biersack had amazing eyes. They were big, perfect almond shape and brightest shade of blue Ashley had seen. They shone like glaciers when the light hit them.
  But something had happened to them. Dark circles surrounded them, making them bulge out from his skull. The whites were completely blood shot, a spider web of burst red vessels.  And that blue, that beautiful blue…it was grey…flat, glassy grey. Like a splodge of paint on a grubby canvas.
  Tears came to Ashley's own eyes. "Wake up Andy," he begged in a choked whisper.

I'll never lie, never leave, so I can always say
You won't be alone again as long as I'm awake

  "What was that?" Emily asked, folding Andy's eyelids back down and noting something off of one of the screens dotted around the bed down on his chart.
  "I need to go," Ashley choked out. He stood up, not able to say goodbye to his love, making a b-line for the door.
  "Ashley, wait," the nurse grabbed his arm. "There's something I need to tell you."
  "What is it?"
  Emily looked down, pain in her eyes. She didn't want to have to tell him this. She'd discussed this with the other nurses, how they should tell him. She was the one who had to do it, the one who he was closest to, and she'd wanted to try and draw him out of his shell, get him back to society before she hit him with it, so he would have a larger network to turn to when it finally happened. But that obviously wasn't going to work, he was too attached to the young man, she saw that now. She'd have to tell him straight, and it would have to be now before she lost her nerves and he found out on his own.
  "What is it, Emily?" he looked put out now.
  She sighed and bit her lip before looking up into his broken brown eyes.

So never lie, never leave, forevermore with me

  "Ashley…Andy's parents…they've discussed it with the doctors and they've decided on a course of action. Sweetie…they're going to pull the plug."

This became a part of me
Your blood is in my veins, once incomplete

  The days that followed passed in a blur for Ashley. One minute he was screaming at Amy and Brock. Amy wept as she and her husband tried to explain why they had decided to give up on Andy. The doctors had told them he'd been out too long, even if he did come round eventually, the time spent in comatose would have multiplied the brain damage caused by the girder that had struck his head.
"He'd be a vegetable, Ash," Brock croaked. "You know Andy; he always had to be doing something. It would be no life for him."
  Ashley had seen the sense in that several hours later, after he had screamed a lot more and been worked up into such a fit that Amy had had to call Jinxx and Sammi Doll to take him home to calm him down. He'd ignored them and wept into the pillow Andy used to cry into all through the night. It had been too long for it to smell like cigarettes and musk.
  Without quite remembering how he'd got there, he was at Andy's house. They spent nights together often, but hadn't moved in together yet. Andy had sometimes mentioned trying it out after the festival, or maybe the next tour, there was a time out in early November. He was always looking forward. Ashley had been reluctant. He'd already cheated on Andy twice, what if he was drunk and forgot Andy was there and brought a girl home? He never wanted to hurt Andy; he just couldn't help himself sometimes.
  Ashley cursed himself as he remembered that, unlocking Andy's front door with his spare key. It was his fault, his karma. He hadn't been grateful for the gift of a boyfriend he had received and Andy was being snatched away from him in the cruellest way possible, after a year and a half of bettering himself, making himself perfect for his baby, it still wasn't good enough.  He passed through the hall and up the stairs, trying not to look at the framed magazine covers that decorated the house. Andy pouting, screaming, pulling faces, posing with the band, in fire, with suitcases, in a horror movie set, red, blue, black, white, Andy living, Andy happy, Andy being Andy, it almost overwhelmed him. This house held far too much of the young man's overpowering personality. It was crushing him. But he needed to trick himself just for tonight, and he could only do that here.
  When he woke up, he had a few blissful minutes of believing he was curled tight in Andy's arms. Then he came too completely and remembered it was just the pile of clothes he'd laid out on the bed the night before.

Promise to have faith in me,
Retrace your steps you'll always find me

  "To Andy. Our friend, brother, lover- Ashley's, not mine, seriously guys- annoying little git, greatest person we could ever hope to know, an inspiration to many, and a boy far too obsessed with Batman for his own good."
  "Here, here!" everyone toasted, before downing their Seagram's 7 shots. Matt got off the table, mostly because the bartender was getting really pissed off at the amount of people who had been climbing all over it. He hadn't said anything yet, Jinxx had explained it was a mourning party, but he was very close to putting all sympathies behind him, the vein pounding in his temple showed as much.
  Ashley tried to join in with his friends in celebrating his baby's life. But all he could think was how could there be a world without Andy in it? He'd leave a black hole, which everything would be sucked into…Ashley would be anyway. He could physically not live without the boy he adored.
  CC slung his arm round Ashley's shoulders. He'd been mourning quite heavily, Ashley could tell, by the smell and the unfocused look in his eyes.
  "It's for the best," he slurred. "Andy's a vegetable…and…and they say if he wakes up he'll still be one! I mean…That'd suck for him! Andy hates vegetables!"
  Jake, Matt and a couple others heard this and laughed, because in his drunken state, CC had come up with another brilliant piece of insight. So many in a year and a half was unsettling. Ashley couldn't see the funny side though. He knew Andy would've, he knew Andy would love to see everyone celebrating his life in this way, coming together and having fun, but just thinking about CC's words brought tears to his eyes. He got up from the table roughly, shoving it back to give his escape more momentum. It toppled over, sending whiskey everywhere and bringing the bartender down on the group like a tonne of bricks. Ashley all but ran for the door while his friends tried to stop themselves being kicked out of the pub.
  "Was it something I said?" CC worried.

I found you one foot out the window pane
I'm never too far out of reach, escape

  Ashley leaned over the drinking straw body and planted one last kiss on those pale, pouty lips. Amy was shaking in her husband's embrace, her tears long dried up. Brock's face was stony. He was going to be the one to do it. Jake, Jinxx and CC stood behind them, even Chris quiet and sombre as each of the six bid their last, silent goodbyes.
  Andy was as still as ever. Thinner than he had been even a few days ago, even paler than his stage makeup had ever made him, even paler than the snowy starched sheets that covered him to the neck. Ashley replaced the oxygen mask that was clasped in his sweating palm. The only sign that his baby was still alive was the steady, shallow rise and fall of his chest under the sheets.
  "Are you ready?" a doctor asked from the corner of the room. Ashley felt a surge of irrational hate towards the man. He wanted to pounce on him and hurt him until he died, so Andy could have his life force. But he didn't even know if this was the doctor who'd convinced the Biersacks to give up on their son.
  Brock nodded and, with shaking hands, kneeled down and pulled the plug.
  For an amazing minute, Ashley thought Andy was going to make it. He kept breathing, slow but steady and then a miracle happened. Those eyelids he'd stared at so many times for hours on end, willing them to open, did exactly that with a flutter. And the eyes behind them…they burned bright with that freezing glacier blue. Behind the plastic mask, a small, sleepy smile formed.
  "Andy," Ashley and Amy choked at the same time. The doctor in the corner moved to help.
  Then the light dimmed from the eyes, the breathing slowed to a stop and the heart rate monitor, the only machine left on, let out a dreadful, endless, monotonous beep.
  All that reminded was the ghost of that smile.  

The rest of this heart lies
in your darkened eyes, awake

  Somehow, Ashley's heart managed to keep beating, even when the other half of it had slowed to a stop. He'd never know how that had happened. Nor would he ever care. It took him a few seconds to realise Jinxx was trying to lead him out of the room. He shook his friend off and walked back to the bed. He sat purposefully down in his groove in the chair, and took the cold hand that was shaped to his own. He glared down every occupant of the room.
  "We'll give them a minute alone," the doctor sighed, leaving the room. Jinxx moved to squeeze Ashley's shoulder, then ushered everyone quietly from the room.
  Ashley just stared at Andy for a time. He looked so similar to the way he had all these months gone by. That smile was still there. He ripped the mask off to see it clearer.
  "Why'd you have to do that?" he hissed. "Why? Why couldn't you stay? You were back! I saw you! Back! Back! Back back back!" He was screaming now. Jinxx, CC and the doctor came running back in. Ashley ignored them, stood up and started shaking the corpse of his beloved by the shoulders. He stopped suddenly and just hugged the body to him, weeping into the limp black hair, sobbing "why?" over and over again.
  He didn't remember anything after that, until he found himself being led up Jinxx's front drive with hands on his shoulders. His friend was saying something about how he wanted Ashley to stay there as long as he needed, while Sammi Doll fussed around them both, her own eyes moist with bereavement.
  Ashley couldn't give a shit. Nothing mattered anymore.

I'll never lie, never leave, so I can always say
You won't be alone again as long as I'm awake

  A few days later, Ashley found himself by a black coffin in black slacks and stiff white dress shirt. He vaguely remembered someone saying war paint and army gear was an option for the actual funeral but the wake should be more human. Wake, he thought. Andy, wake up. But the coffin didn't stir.
  People had scrawled things in white on the coffin, messages of love and mourning. Someone had written in large, fancy script "I'll never let you steal my coffin". Others had joined in with "hands off, this is my freaking coffin!", "Don't any of you dare steal this coffin", "I've told you before, my coffin, don't touch, ah! Fuck off!" and "No touchy Andy's coffin."  Ashley smiled at that.
  He picked up the pen that lay beside the shiny black box. In the bottom left corner, in small neat letters, he wrote "Forever I will lie awake". Andy had told him, when they'd just started going out, that that song had been about him. He had lied though. He hadn't stayed awake, and it wasn't for Ashley that he had bled and died, it was just because of some shoddy builders not knowing how to put up a stage safely. Ashley had broken his heart though, or in the process of doing so anyway. Now Andy had done the same to him. One good turn deserves another, he supposed.
  People were coming over to him, Andy's school friend Chance, Scout, the ex-girlfriend Ashley couldn't stand, Sandra, Amy, Danny…Ashley ran out.
  He locked the bathroom door and sat on the seat, with the lid down. He texted Jinxx, saying he'd gone home, to his house, he needed to be alone. Jinxx replied saying ok, if he needed anything just phone. Ashley said he would.
  He then stuck a pair of headphones in his ears and flicked through songs.  Each one brought about different memories of Andy. He hadn't known the boy for very long, he realised. Not even twenty-three yet, that was far too short a life.

So never lie, never leave, forevermore with me

  It was much, much later when Ashley realised the window at the back of the small cubicle was showing a starless night sky, not the insultingly beautiful afternoon that it had contained when he'd sat down. The funeral parlour must be closed by now, he thought. He was alone in an empty building…an empty building apart from the stiffs…apart from Andy.
  A crazed thought struck him. It was madness. Completely out of the question. Exactly what he needed. He hadn't been planning anything like it, but now the idea had come upon him, he had to do it.

Forevermore, I'll follow your
Every word until

  Andy's coffin was exactly where it had been. The glossy black shone in the light coming from a faded moon directly behind it, through the window it sat in front of, pride of place. The white writing was visible, and Ashley's eyes strayed to the lyrics to Coffin. Andy had loved that song, he'd been so proud of it. He'd never got round to telling anyone the actual lyrics. He'd taken that secret to his grave.
  A wave of something like guilt swept through Ashley's body; but he wasn't stealing Andy's coffin. He was just…sharing it.  

My eyes can't see

  The lid lifted easily, thankfully, they would be nailing it down tomorrow. Inside, Andy looked almost as beautiful as he had in life. His hair had been washed and fixed with product until it sat in a mighty cascade of black feathers, as perfect as in any poster on the walls of the Army. There had been a debate, he remembered, between whether to dress him in a mourning suit or in his leathers and war paint. He and the guys had argued and won. So there Andy lay; his eyes closed under the explosion of his black painted lids. The trademark scar stretched elegantly from the corner of his plush, ruby lips. Two black crosses burned on the snow of his cheeks. His arms and torso were splodged black, over his tattoos and under his black studded vest. Ashley noticed the dragonfly heart he had gotten for Juliet; only it wasn't for Juliet anymore, because, sometime before that fateful day, without telling Ashley, he'd had the word "OUTLAW" tattooed across the heart, blocking out the insect. The lettering matched that above Ashley's navel. Tears were now blurring his vision too much to take in what belts they'd laced around the tight leather trousers and what cowboy boots they'd placed on his feet.
  Those blue eyes though. You could paint the boy as the hero adored by thousands, but nothing could ever give Ashley those eyes back.
  Andy's hands were placed on his chest, holding the BVB rosary. Ashley took it from his rigor mortis grasp and placed it around his own neck, so as it hung at his heart. He lifted Andy's arms up and moved them so they were spread out wide, inviting a hug. Ashley stepped into the embrace- and into the coffin.  

Till my lungs can't breathe

  He lay chest to chest with his beloved, so the rosary touched both their hearts, fluttering and still, so he could curl up into the bag of bones, because to him it was the most comfortable place in the world. He wrapped the stiff arms around him in the promised embrace and felt better than he had in a year and a half. Reaching up carefully, he closed the lid of the coffin.
  In the dark, he couldn't see Andy. But he could feel him, pressed tightly against him.
  "You said that you'd die for me," he whispered to ears which could no longer hear him. "But that's not your job. It's mine." Someone, he didn't know who, most likely CC, had once told him it took about three days to die if you were buried alive in a coffin. If that was true, seeing as there were two people in the coffin, therefore less space for air, it would probably take half the time. Which suited Ashley fine.

Till my heart won't beat anymore

  Burrowing his head into the crook of Andy's pulseless neck, Ashley fell asleep in that black, cold coffin. It was a peaceful, dreamless sleep. But it wasn't his last.

The rest of this heart lies
in your darkened eyes, awake

  He woke up, still in Andy's icy embrace, when hammering met his ears. They were closing the lid of the coffin. He grinned and tried to keep as quiet as possible; there was no going back now.
  When he certain the footsteps that he soon heard leading away weren't coming back, he took out his phone. The screen illuminated Andy's expressionless face as Ashley turned it on silent and texted Jinxx.
  "Jinxx…I…I can't go today…I'm really sorry, I just…can't…please, just go without me, I may be able to build up the courage to go later, but…not now. Matt can be the fourth coffin bearer, or Chance or Brock. Just please, don't make me."
  Jinxx texted back a few minutes later with "Ash, are you sure? I know you're scared, but me, Jake and Chris will be there for you. Sammi and me are on our way now; we can swing by and pick you up."
  "No. Please, just let me skip it. I'm…I'm not at home…I'm out of town, I got a bit crazy last night…"
  "Oh Ashley."
  He didn't bother to reply. He soon felt himself and his baby being lifted into the back of a hearse. The funeral wasn't going to be held in a church, there was going to be a procession to the grave and a few words said there though. It was probably a good thing; the less time the coffin was in public, the less likely it was someone would work out what he had done, even if chances of that were slim; it wasn't exactly a regular occurrence.    

I'll never lie, never leave, so I can always say

  When CC lifted the black box containing two of his best friends, though only one he was aware of, he grunted. "Man, I thought Andy had lost weight! Since when did death make you put on a few tonnes?"
  "Just because you've no body strength to speak of Chris," Jake snorted.
  "Lift with your knees, Andy would never forgive us if we dropped him," Matt chuckled.
  "You guys are sick, you know that?" Jinxx scolded them, but there was laughter even in his voice. "This is a funeral, of our best friend and our brother; we're not supposed to be cracking jokes."
  "Oh be quiet Jeremy," Jake's eye roll was clear in his voice, even from inside the sealed box of varnished wood. "I have a really bad urge to steal this coffin, you know that?"
  "Let's set the graveyard on fire."
  "What?!"  
  "It'd be a start at least."
  "I wonder who he died for."
  "Ashley," Matt whispered, and the banter stopped.  
  If Ashley had been outside with them, bearing the weight on his shoulders, he knew he would've screamed at them or made them stop with their piss-taking. But it was their own way of grieving, and he realised, this would be the last time he heard any of them being themselves. It almost made him regret his decision. Almost.
  Andy's cool arms around his waist was something he could never regret.

You won't be alone again as long as I'm awake

  When the long march to the grave and the small service, filled with stories and singing and sobbing too muffled for Ashley to hear properly, though he knew it must be beautiful, phenomenal, because everything that happened around Andy was phenomenal, he and his baby were finally lowered into the ground. The last small rays of light disappeared for good as dirt pounded down on top of them. Soon he could hear nothing at all; even the last of the dirt being packed and patted down around him was too far away.
  Then it just him and his baby, alone together, forevermore. Ashley felt groggy, and even slightly panicky. His body wasn't taking well to being buried alive, even if all his mind and soul screamed was Yes! Yes! Yes! He felt dizzy, like he was looking down on his death from the top of a skyscraper, not lying down with it, accepting it. He closed his eyes and buried his head in Andy's chest, the sharp ribs making an imprint on his face that the world would never see.
  "Andy," he whispered. "I fucking love you. I don't regret this. But I'm scared Andy. Please Andy. Hold me one last time. Stroke my hair and tell me it will be ok. I'm sorry Andy. I'm sorry for…for everything. Please…please come back…"
  He continued to murmur the sweet, desperate nothings for what felt like eternity, using up his oxygen quicker and quicker with every syllable, as each was more shaky and desperate than the last. He was crying how, heart wrenching sobs, his whole body shaking almost painfully, a mixture of love, loss and fear. Eventually his body ran out of breath, out of energy, out of everything. He just lay curled into his beloved, telling himself that when he woke up, on the other side of life, Andy would be waiting for him with open arms, warm arms, which didn't just lie limply but crushed Ashley to him like they could become one. Soon his lungs were working double time, searching for the last dregs of oxygen. His heart beat so frantically it would've burst if it hadn't already been broken.

So never lie, never leave,

  Ashley pressed himself up on shaking arms, planting one last kiss, which held everything he had ever thought, felt, desired and dreamed in it, onto Andy's freezing lips. He lifted the lids of those coal decorated eyes. In the dark, he saw them, shining as blue as they first time he had fixed his gaze upon them.
  "I love you," he croaked with his last breath, before letting his head fall onto Andy's shoulder. Andy's lids fell slowly down, and Ashley's did too as the life left him. This time the sleep would last. Together, the two boys closed their eyes, forevermore.

Forevermore with me