[CLOSED] we die young.

[mathieu 'mat' darren blank]

Mat wandered around the beach, unable to go into the water. The sun beat down on his pale skin, but he couldn't feel it. He walked over to a tree, sitting underneath it. He rubbed his red eyeliner rimmed eyes, wondering why he was doomed to die in such heavy clothes. He laid down in the sand, looking up into the tree.

"Tweet tweet. TWEET, MOTHERFUCKER." He watched a bit fly away, then fly back. "Don't tweet then. Fuck you too." He sighed, kicking his feet in the sand, but it did nothing but made him look like an idiot. He played with the tie poking out of the bottom of his vest.

"What's the worst that I could say?" He sang, closing his eyes.

[dylan flambyte parker]

Dylan huffed faintly. Again, Nash was busy and he was left alone. This time instead of drinking, starting fights or torturing his brother, he was sulking in his usually hidden grief. He stumbled down the hill some, wondering what would have been different if Mat had never died. He didn't usually give it much thought, tried not to look back on the past. And nobody really knew he had ever dated another guy so seriously, ever actually been in love and not afraid to hurt the one he loved.

Things were different though now..he had changed, grown mean and distant, withdrawn if anything.

He crouched, skipping a pebble across the water, and finally dropped back on his haunches with a breathy, dejected sigh.

[mathieu 'mat' darren blank]

Mat watched the familiar face walk down the hill, guessing he was pretty hidden over here in the shade. He didn't look as happy as he used to. The old Dylan wasn't like this. He saw him kick a stone into the water. He smiled to himself, figuring he may as well poke fun at the person he was doomed to love for all eternity.

"What did that rock ever do to you, punk?" He asked, sitting up. He pulled himself to his feet, walking out of the shade of the tree. He bent over, fixing his hair before straightening back up.

[dylan flambyte parker]

Dylan spun, lips curling defensively, ready to snap, then froze. He looked away sharply, hiding his heavy swallow. Fingers tapped at his jeans in disbelief and he only shook his head. No way in hell, not right now.

He chewed on his lip some then looked back at him a moment. And yet he knew, knew never again could he love somebody like Mat, knew never again could he have him back. He wasn't an angel, wasn't anything he could have. All in that instant of looking at him, he knew.

"Mat.." He rasped, the name feeling odd passing his lips for the first time in awhile.

[mathieu 'mat' darren blank]

"So, that ring you put on my finger.." He could remember Dylan's words all to vividly now. 'I don't wanna marry you. But I want everyone else to know you're mine.' He bit his lip, turning it around and around on his finger. He tried to pull it off but it wouldn't budge. It was just as much a part of him as his clothes now.

"Yeah, it's stuck. And I would have tried the soap, like you said, but I can't touch anything. So.." He looked over at him, wondering how bad it hurt him to know he couldn't touch him. He walked over to him, reaching out to touch his cheek, but it just passed through him.

"So, how's life on the not-dead side of it?" He asked, trying to hide the hurt on his face. He wished he knew what he had done wrong, why he was in limbo so he could finally get his wings or go to hell. He was getting bored of not being able to touch anything.

[dylan flambyte parker]

Dylan swallowed, shrugging. He flinched as Mat reached out, not because of distrust, but because the lack of touch with the action. He chewed on his lip awkwardly. For once in his life he felt lost and completely, utterly alone.

"Shitty.." He mumbled, not bothering mention the boy he had met. His jaw trembled some and he looked away. "I wondered if I would ever see you again. Didn't think it would be so unfairly.."

He wanted to hug him tight, but not only was it not possible, he had changed himself to hide how broken he was inside. Rubbing at a set of claw marks scabbed on his arm he scowled faintly. Damned Devon. "I-...I guess I coped.." He shrugged. "Kinda. Guess it's better than being where you're at.." Sure, he had witnessed it, could still hear his own sobs, screaming Mat's name. Could still imagine it all. But Mat had actually been in it, had been the one to lose his life. He couldn't shake the echoing words though, giving him that ring, the smile on his face... He could never do that again...he'd already given his heart up... And while he had Nash now, he didn't feel it could ever be the same again.

[mathieu 'mat' darren blank]

Mat watched him, wishing he could just feel him. He could see the hurt in his eyes and bent down, peering up at him in his comical Mat way. "I dunno. I think burning to death blew the most. Well, more or less actually feeling your body being ripped apart by the explosion. That sucked the worst." He had never told anyone that he didn't die in the initial fire, that he actually had died in the explosion.

"Come on, Dill Pickle. I'm here now. More or less.. In this heavy ass costume." He straightened up, putting his hands in his pocket. "I got a guitar pick, twenty dollars, the key to your house and this." He held out his hands, all his things there along with a small picture of Dylan.

"See? I always had you with me.." He said quietly, looking down at the picture. He ran a finger across Dylan's jaw, looking at it thoughfully before pocketing his things again.

[dylan flambyte parker]

Dylan watched him, chest shuddering as he tried to keep his breaths, emotions, under control. Jaw and lip trembled, throat tightening. It didn't matter. He turned away as the tears fell.

He hadn't ever cried. Not since Mat had died. He didn't bother wipe them away, feeling the tickle of each one rolling down his face, a reminder of how weak he really was inside. "Yeah, guess you did..." He rasped, managing a faint smile, wiping at a few stray tears threatening to drip off his jaw.

[mathieu 'mat' darren blank]

Mat saw Dylan cry and his heart broke. He didn't have someone he could go to? Someone to make him forget Mat? He reached out, trying to comfort him. But his fingers passed right through him.

"Being inside you never sucked so much." He grumbled, wiping at his own cheeks. He hoped it would at least get a laugh out of him, considering all the times they had ever been together, Dylan was in control.

"Being dead sucks. You find out things you didn't want to know. Like that girl I slept with junior year before I got with you? She was pregnant. With twin girls. And she killed them." He dug his toe into the sand. "I found my mom and your mom and that kid that hung himself in middle school. My dad's rotting in hell. He killed like, fourty people. Including a little sister I never got to meet. Mom said that she miscarried her after he beat her in the stomach. Mom said she had red hair. Isn't that cute? I couldn't pull off red hair. I like my hair." He didn't know his little sister was still alive, living with the grim reaper, of all people.

[dylan flambyte parker]

Dylan drew in a shaky breath, wiping his tears away before rubbing at an arm. He smirked faintly at the comment, unable to help it. "You're still a tease," He complained, sitting down after a moment. He sighed softly, looked over at him curiously.

No longer crying, he was trying to bottle those feelings inside once more, out of the way. "My mom died when I was two, Mat. Even I don't remember her. Or know what the hell she was to fuck Devon and I up so bad."

He smiled as he just listened to the familiar voice he could only dream about now, always afraid of forgetting him. Nashville had brought happiness back into his life, but with what Dylan was, he had relied on loyalty to one person. Having that ripped away so suddenly had changed things. Even with someone to go to, it was hard. "I miss you..." He whispered, fighting the next tremble of his lower lip, tears rimming his eyes but not falling free this time.