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The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

 

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The Importance of Friends on Rainy Days
By indie_chicky

 


Okay, so this fic is going to be a couple of firsts for me, but I'm excited about it because I think, as a writer, it's always good to stretch and to see where you succeed and where you crash and burn. Something not new? Rain motif. I love it, don't know why, just do.

But anyhoo, the first first is that this is a cabin fic. Not really that big of a deal because the cabin is pretty much just the setting and I don't really think it'll matter too much in the long run, but there it is. Secondly, this story is about Jon Walker. Now, I know what you're thinking and I bet it goes a little something like this: “Whoa! No Ryden? Are you sick? Is something wrong?” To which I say, that there is a little bit of subtle, squinty Ryden, no I am perfectly well, and nothing is wrong. Jon just needs a little love that's all. So, without further delay, my new story…oh, and please review. You know nothing makes me happier.

Also, it's not really “drama”, I just had to pick a secondary genre.

Disclaimer: It's not real, I made it up, yadda yadda yadda…although, the Google stats? Totally real. I did them this afternoon.

………………………………&hel lip;………

Jon Walker always loved life a little bit more when it rained.

Maybe that was just the Midwestern boy in him, but there was something about rain that was therapeutic. It gave you time to be reflective without being pushy. Maybe he just loved seeing something more than the beaming hot sun day after day.

But different kinds of rain really got to him.

For example, he hated spring rain.

One afternoon, he was sitting on the cabin's back porch, just thinking. Whenever it rained in April, he always thought of the same thing. Jon never really held grudges or even got mad. He had seriously fought with Brendon one time when he broke one of Jon's bass strings and simply didn't tell him. But they were over that in two hours, goofing around and joking just like they had been before the incident. Maybe it was just that he was an easily forgiving human being. But he had never let this incident go, and it had taken place 8 years ago in April.

“Brendon, go out and talk to him.”

“He's fine. He just wants to sit out in the rain.”

“No, something is clearly wrong. Look at the way he keeps sighing like that. Jon Walker never sighs.”

“If you're so damn concerned, why don't you go talk to him?”

Brendon and Spencer were standing at the kitchen window, staring at Jon. He looked tired and overworked, like he just wanted to get away for a few days to recharge. Ryan walked into the kitchen, put his coffee cup in the sink and looked at his two best friends, confused.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

Suddenly, Brendon and Spencer turned to each other, the same idea popping into their minds.

“Ryan, go talk to Jon. He's been asking for you.”

Ryan looked skeptical.

“Why would Jon ask the two of you for me when we live in the same house? It's not like twenty other people live here and he can't find me.”

Spencer laughed and Brendon sighed, frustrated.

“Look, Ross, why do you have to be so goddamn smart all the time?”

“Because you two are dumbasses.”

“I resent that. I'll have you know that Spencer and I played a riveting game of Scrabble this morning and now we are going off to read the encyclopedia to each other. Isn't that right, Spencer?”

He nodded, but chuckled as Brendon, who had been trying to keep a straight face, failed. Ryan simply looked amused.

“And by `riveting game of Scrabble' you mean four hours of Guitar Hero, and by `going off to read the encyclopedia to each other' you mean several more hours of Guitar Hero.”

“Something like that, yeah.”

Exasperated, Brendon threw up his hands dramatically and started for the back door.

“Fine, I'll go talk to him. But if he throws me off the back porch in a fit of rage, I will see you two in hell.”

“Sounds like a party!” Ryan called after him as Brendon gave him the appropriate hand signal and walked outside to sit with Jon.

“You okay, Jon?”

“Yeah, Brendon, I'm cool.”

“You want to talk about something?”

“Not really. It's kind of personal, you know.”

“Not something Google stats can fix?”

Jon laughed, but shook his head.

“No, it goes a little deeper than Google.”

Brendon seemed crushed and out of ideas, so they sat for a few moments in silence before Jon turned back to Brendon.

“But they might help a little bit.”

Brendon instantly perked up, and sat up straighter, trying his best to look official.

“Spencer has the most.”

“No way!”

“Yeah, it's because his last name is Smith. He has an unfair advantage.”

“Well, how do I do?”

“1,630,000”

“Are you for real?”

“I can't make up numbers like that, Jon.”

“So, who's last?”

“That would be me.”

“Are you kidding? But the kids love you.”

“Clearly not as much as they love people with the last names of Smith, Ross, and Walker. Bitches.”

Jon laughed and seemed a bit more at ease, although Brendon could tell there was still something bothering him.

“Seriously, dude, this is the part where I stop being a moron and I actually pay attention to your problems because you're my friend and it's my duty to cheer you up. So, let's have it.”

Jon sighed again, and Brendon listened intently as he started to speak. He couldn't have Jon sighing anymore. It was bringing the whole cabin's morale down.

“There was this girl when I was 14, and I know it's stupid, right? To think of this girl every time it rains in April? It's like the most fucked up thing ever, but she was gorgeous. Her name was Rachel and she was 16, and I don't know, it was like, every time she walked by, I would feel a little bit more alive, you know? It's how you feel about Ryan only…more.”

Brendon nodded. He knew what it was like to not be able to find the words for someone incredible.

“So, what happened to her?”

“She was my neighbor. I was outside with a couple of friends fucking around in the rain. I don't even remember what we were doing. She walked out of her house, pink umbrella in hand, waved at me, said hi, and then, she said my name. I didn't even know she knew my name. I was like so fucking blissful, which again is pretty stupid, but she got into her car, backed out of the driveway and started going down the street. She wasn't even twenty seconds into the road when this guy came speeding down our street and crashed into her. Her car turned over twice and he kept going. I ran over, and she wasn't moving, she wasn't breathing. The worst part? They never caught that asshole.”

He was practically shaking at this point. Brendon sat, shell shocked. He didn't know what to do. He had never seen Jon like this before. Luckily, Jon cracked a half-smile and sniffled, blocking the tears that were almost falling.

“Spring rain just really fucks me up, you know?”

And with nothing left to say, Brendon nodded, and put his arm around his friend, signaling that it's always okay to remember your first love.

…………………………

Jon's never really been a big fan of thunderstorms either, especially at night.

“Brendon, I swear to God, if you have to pee one more time during this movie, Jack isn't going to die until next week.”

“Yeah dude, you're like a fucking pregnant chick. Or like Rose when she's the old lady. Like `excuse me, guys, I'd love to tell you about The Heart Of The Ocean but I really have to piss first.'”

“You all like my childbearing hips, so don't pretend to act otherwise. Especially you, Mr. `I'm feeling like a fat ass today, Brendon, can I wear your jeans?'.”

Ryan crumpled up a bag of chips and threw them at Brendon, hitting him as he turned away from the three boys sitting on the couch.

“That's a shock. The bag actually didn't hit your ass.”

“Watch the way you talk to me, Ross, or you'll never hit my ass.”

Spencer covered up his ears and pretended to be disgusted.

“Ugh! Sex talk! Go to the bathroom, Brendon, my ears can't take anymore!”

They all laughed and Brendon left the room as lightning cracked in the distance. Jon shuddered visibly and both Ryan and Spencer turned to him and stared.

“What? I hate thunderstorms!”

“Dude, since when? We've been around you for quite some time and I've never seen you freak out like that. It's just lightning.”

“Yeah, but it's…forget it.”

Ryan and Spencer shrugged and turned back to Rose's paused face on the screen.

“That shit never happens in real life.”

“You're such a pessimist, Ryan.”

“I'm a realist, Spencer. I'm sorry if I don't believe that two people can meet on a boat and claim they've found their true love. Anyone with half a brain knows that the rich chick and the poor boy would never fall in love in real life, especially not in two days.”

Lightning crashed again, and suddenly, all of the cabin's lights flickered and went out. Jon's eyes grew large and he looked around nervously.

“Shit.”

“Jon, it's nature's electricity, not the fucking boogeyman.”

Spencer's voice was heard through the darkness.

“Actually, that was me thinking aloud about how long it's going to take us to watch this fucking movie now that the power's gone out. Jon is currently latched on to my arm, cutting off all circulation.”

“Jon, are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, Ryan, I'll be fine…as soon as the lights come back on.”

“Dude, what is your problem?”

“I don't know. It's just a thing. I have issues with lightning.”

Suddenly, a loud thump was heard followed by a crash and an exclamation of “Fuck!” Jon sat up and looked around anxiously.

“What was that? Do you think lightning hit the house? Do you think it hit Brendon?”

Two seconds later, a body sprawled across the three boys on the couch and Spencer could feel someone's breath really close to his face.

“Spencer, you know you're my Jack Dawson, right?”

“What did you do, Brendon?”

“Well…what happened was…the lights went out and I kind of dropped your open thing of Oreos when I tripped over someone's laundry on the floor.”

Brendon could hear Ryan sighing loudly.

“That was your laundry, asshole. And you're cleaning that shit up tomorrow. We're going to have rats.”

Brendon scooted off of Spencer and squeezed his way in between Spencer and Ryan, curling his arm around Ryan's neck.

“You're just mad because I called Spencer my Jack. But you're my Rose.”

“Rose is a fucking girl.”

“Well, if you squint…”

“Brendon, if you finish that sentence…”

“I thought you didn't believe in Jack and Rose, Ryan.”

“I don't, Spencer. I just don't want to be his bitch.”

“Well…”

“I'm going to bed. I don't need this shit.”

“Oh come on, I was just playing, you don't want to brave those Oreos anyway…wait, why isn't Jon talking?”

“Because your big mouth won't shut the hell up, Brendon.”

“Ryan, are you still pissed about the Rose thing?”

“He's using all of his concentration to keep this vice grip on my arm.”

“Sorry, Spencer.”

There was a pause in the conversation, and suddenly, the boys were meant with an eerie silence. Then, a voice broke out, singing a song from the movie they had previously been watching.

“Every night in my dreams, I see you. I feel you. That is how I know you go on.”

“Brendon, you are not singing fucking Celine Dion.”

“Far across the distance and spaces between us, you have come to show you go on.”

“Spencer, are you kidding me?”

“Near, far, wherever you are, I believe that the heart does go on.”

Spencer and Brendon clapped and laughed loudly as another voice was added to the song.

“Jon Walker taking on Celine! Come on, Ryan, you know you want to.”

The three smiling faces in the darkness waited in apprehension as Ryan sighed and finally sang along with them.

“Once more, you open the door and you're here in my heart and my heart will go on and on.”

They laughed, singing and smiling, forgetting all about the darkness and the thunderstorms.

And Jon could feel the full weight of his happiness and his friendships by simply noticing that all it takes is a little Celine Dion and a lot of ambition to allay your fears.

………………………………

When it rains in the early morning, Jon Walker absolutely dreads it. If your day starts off gloomy, chances are it's not going to get much better.

“When `Us Weekly' finds out about me and Ryan, do you think they're going to call us Ryden or Rydon?”

While Ryan was still sleeping, Spencer and Brendon were sitting at the kitchen table, playing poker in their sweatpants and t-shirts that they had been wearing for the past two days. Jon was standing by the kitchen window, staring out at the looming dark clouds.

“Dude, who gives a shit?”

“I'm just saying, it would make sense to have the `on', but that's kind of sexual. Like `ride on'?”

“You and Ryan aren't sexual?”

“Well, yeah, but the rest of the world doesn't need to know that.”

“Okay, Brendon, the question was rhetorical. I'm his best friend and I don't need to know that.”

“Plus, the `en' just looks better.”

“Have you written them down?”

“Oh yeah, several times.”

“How often do you think about this?”

“Generally, at least 3 times an hour.”

“You really need a hobby. Go find a book or paint something.”

“But, why shouldn't my name get to be first? I mean, why can't we be called Bryan or something?”

“Bryan? Are you serious?”

“Jon, what do you think? `On' or `en'?”

Jon continued staring out the window, seemingly unaware of Brendon's question. Spencer smirked.

“I think that's his way of saying `I don't give a shit because it's a dumb ass question'.”

“Screw you. Pair of queens. Beat that, bitch.”

Spencer revealed his three aces, smiling victoriously as he reached over to take the pot of Goldfish crackers and two boxes of Captain Crunch. He turned toward the window and reached out to pat Jon's lower back, comforting him after he had just received the worst news of his life. His relationship was over via text message.

“Hey, I know breaking up is hard, and the way she did it was bitchy, but you'll find someone else. Someone better even.”

“What if I don't?”

“You will, Jon. Now, come on. Stop moping around and help me kick Brendon's ass and take all his snacks.”

“That last round was a fluke, Smith. You're going down this time.”

Jon smiled halfheartedly, but sat down at the table with his friends.

“All right, losers. Deal me in.”

And suddenly, as Jon Walker got lost in a game of poker, he forgot all about the rain and his girlfriend. The day didn't seem so bad anymore. Spencer and Brendon had made it so much better just by being there.

……………………………

Wednesdays had always been Jon's least favorite day. It was the day he always had to work double shifts at Starbucks. And rainy Wednesdays? They were the worst of all.

He was at a loss for inspiration and he sighed, staring at the rain and silently cursing it. He was sitting on the couch with his laptop, trying to think up something witty to put on the website's journal (since he was really the only person to ever pay attention to it anyway) when Brendon plopped down next to him, clearly high on Red Bull and M&Ms.

“Jon, we should adopt kids.”

“You and me?”

“Yeah, three of them and we should name them Hot, Hotter, and Hottest.”

“Brendon, that is quite possibly the worst idea I have ever heard.”

“Why? We'd be like Angelina Jolie only, you know, with more testosterone. Well…at least an equal level of testosterone.”

Jon couldn't help laughing along with his sugar crazed friend.

“We can't do that because it would be like cloning this band. Hottest would be a pretentious fuck like you, always demanding attention, and then Hot would be like Spencer and he'd develop a complex because he would think that I loved you more because you were Hottest, and then Hotter would be like Ryan because he'd be like, `I'm not the least hot, but I'm not the hottest either. Where do I belong???' Can you imagine our therapist bills?”

Just then, Spencer and Ryan walked in the room, plopping down on the couch next to Brendon and smiling. Brendon and Jon back to them and smiled.

“Hey, Hot.”

Spencer looked confused.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah, we have new nicknames. I'm Hottest, Ryan's Hotter, and you're Hot.”

“Well, duh, I'm hotter than you.”

“No, moron, that's your nickname.”

“Why the fuck do I only get to be Hotter? I'm way hotter than you.”

“Because I called dibs on Hottest first…and no, you aren't.”

“Yes I am, Brendon! Besides, Hotter is dumb. It's like saying, `I'm not the least hot, but I'm not the hottest either'.”

Brendon and Jon exchanged knowing looks and just laughed. Spencer shrugged.

“Whatever, I'm glad I get to be just plain Hot. I don't have to deal with all the pressure.”

“See, Ryan? Spencer's content with what he's given.”

“I'll remember that, Urie. We'll see how content you are tonight with what I give you.”

“Wait, why doesn't Jon get a nickname?”

Jon and Brendon stopped. They hadn't thought about that. But suddenly, Brendon smiled proudly.

“Because Jon holds us together. He doesn't need a title to describe who he is. He's perfect as just Jon.”

And suddenly, all his fears and worries disappeared and there was no place in the world Jon would have rather been than right next to his best friends on a couch in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe Jon Walker didn't really love life more when the rain fell. He simply knew that when it came, his friends would always be there to help him forget it.

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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