#I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE YOU AND I M SCREAMIN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[mushroommouth]

The Good Mourning Part III

A/N: Haha, guess who’s not dead? 

Anyway, happy we’re-done-with-January! Sorry this chapter is somewhat dialogue-heavy. There was a lot of resolution that had to be done and not much action to go along with it. 

Additionally, there are some scenes missing/ things that weren’t addressed quite just yet. Some of them were removed for for flow purposes, and others. Well. We’ll get there when we get there. 

Regardless, I hope you enjoy the finale of TGM! 

-Skye (👻)

-

“Easy, easy—”

Aaron laughed and nudged his boss’s hand off his arm.

“I’m burned not busted. Besides, you’re the one a billion years old.” Aaron smirked and readjusted the icing bag. “I should be worrying over you, if anything.”

 “Very funny. I’ll fire you any day now, I swear.” Aaron’s boss rolled his eyes and leaned on the counter. “Besides, you got burned on your dominant hand. Look at this frosting work. It’s- actually, It’s fine. But you’ve certainly done a lot better.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just kind of hard to get a good grip. I’ll get the hang of it.”

“And your leg?”

“Again, I said I’m fine. What the hell is your problem? It’s been almost three months.” Aaron rolled his shoulder and sighed before setting down the icing bag. “Also, I can’t work when you’re looking at me like that. Just…really. What is going on with you, Stanley?”

 Stanley sighed and rubbed his face before nervously scratching at his beard.

“I…I don’t know. I guess I never really had a family and–  c’mon, you little shit. Don’t make me say it.”

“Aww, boss. You never told me you had a heart deep beneath that gross crusty old man act.” Aaron laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Real cute. See if I sign your check next time, much less open up.” Stanley stormed across the kitchen to wash his hands. “You’re real charming, kid.”

“Oh don’t be like that.” Aaron picked up the icing bag and started gently swirling frosting onto each cupcake. “You know what I mean. When I was out, there’s no one else I woulda trusted to watch Tom ‘n the kittens…’n…I don’t know. If I could have my cat in here, with you guys and baking and all… I don’t think I’d ever leave.” 

Aaron smiled slightly.

“Besides, you were there for me when I had no one and you hired me as a cashier, and then you gave me the chance at…this.”

Aaron froze before bursting out in laughter.  

“Stan, are you-are you crying?”

“I’m just thinking about how terrible of a cashier you were.” Stanley sniffled and wiped at his eyes in the crook of his elbow. “You were friggin terrible. Got to me is all.”

He put gloves on and walked to stand next to Aaron. 

“We lost almost as much money from you doing math bad as when you were out.” Stan grabbed a tray of red velvet and got started icing them. “We needed ya here. We were hit pretty hard without you. I…should have really kept my promise and made the big guy pay for it.” 

“You mean Dan? I mean, they were hit pretty hard, too.” Aaron sighed. “I mean, literally, sure. He’s been in and out of the hospital since. I can’t imagine what his copay is, and if he didn’t step in front of it for me, I’d been finished for, I’m sure. But also… I dunno. I don’t really have a family either, but when I do it’s this.”

“You’re a good guy, Aaron.”

Aaron snorted. “You’re just saying that to make me feel good about myself.” 

“Yeah, you’re kind of a jackass.”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah. No worries about losing the money though. People have been trailing in here non-stop because they thought we closed for a bit because something happened to you. Y’know, in your fragile, elderly state.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know, it’s a shame the fire didn’t burn your hair off. You look like a frickin’ hippy.”

Aaron laughed harder. “Maybe for your birthday. You’ve only got so many left, after all.”

“Shame it didn’t burn your mouth off, too.”

They iced in silence for a moment before Stanley spoke up again.

“Hey, once we’re in the clear again and have enough money saved up, I think you gave me an idea for our next spot, Aaron.”

—

Cody cautiously opened the door.

“Hey Milo?” He asked. “Dad and Miranda want to know if you would rather have sparkling red grape juice or sparkling…red grape juice?”

Milo looked up from his project.

“…What?” 

“We’re out of white, but the red are different brands.” Cody said. 

“I… got that. I meant why, I guess.” 

“Oh! Dad and Miranda, uh. Do this dinner thing on special occasions. They get Italian takeout and wine, light a bunch of candles and pretend it’s all fancy. They started getting the grape juice, so I feel included and junk.”

“Huh.” Milo picked up the duck tape. “Sorry, I…uh. Does this look right to you?”

Cody stepped into the room and flicked on the light.

“It looks like…holy cow, are you done?”

Milo held Jake’s guitar close, fidgeting with the neck. 

“Almost, I think! The top part needs a little more tape and junk.” Milo set the guitar down gently on the bed. “How does it look?”

 The guitar was, truthfully, an amalgamation of glue and tape, but it was the first time Cody had seen it in one piece in months. All the strings were fixed, the paint that could be reapplied was, and it seemed finally whole. Cody walked up and smiled, taking in the details of the guitar.

As soon as he looked up, though, the smile fell in an instant.

“Milo?” 

“Hmm?” 

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Last night.”

 “For more than two hours?”

 “…That’s not fair.” Milo rubbed his eyes as if trying to wipe away the bags. “’Sides, look how far I got!”

“Milo, that’s cool and all, but—”

“Cody, you know this is important to me.” 

“Yes, but at our age we need ten-to-twelve hours of sleep.” Cody sighed. “Milo…I’m worried about you. You’re all pale, and…you look like you’re starting to get sick. Sleep is–”

“I can’t sleep, okay?!” Milo balled his fists. “I tried. I really, really tried. I know it’s important. I just…can’t.”

 Cody grabbed some tissues and sat down on the other side of the bed, trying not to jostle the guitar.  He reached over and handed a tissue to Milo, who immediately began wiping away the rapidly-beading tears. 

“Not like I can tell Dad, right?” Milo laughed dryly. 

Cody forced a smile. 

“Well, you can soon, right? That’s what we’re celebrating. Dan is finally getting his wires out. He’ll be able to eat for real soon and his teeth were all fixed and the surgery went well-he’s in the clear! It’s your last night with us with Dan hurt. Everything’s going back to normal.” 

“‘Cept it won’t.” Milo muttered. “One of my dads is still gone and hasn’t made even a little bit of a sign to say he’s out there. And I saw the other- Cody, I don’t ever want to see Dan like that again. I…” 

“Daniel Fuller, sit down!” 

Dan whipped his head around from beside his hospital bed, looking dazedly at the IVs he ripped out and back up at Reese. 

“Whhh…” Dan’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton. That felt correct given the circumstances, but he couldn’t remember exactly why. 

Reese sighed and began walking across the room to guide him back to the hospital bed. 

She forced a slight smile as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

“…Welcome back to the world of the living.” 

Finally, it clicked as Reese began putting back in the IVs. If Reese was here, then he was at the hospital. And if he was at the hospital… 

“Whirrrrrr…is Ja’e?” Dan asked. “Mi’o?” 

Reese frowned and looked to the other member of the room. Milo was looking back at Dan with wide, puffy eyes. His cheeks were streaked and stained with tears. He was holding something up with his sweatshirt, keeping it tight to his chest. 

Milo stood up, taking a step toward Dan, wanting nothing more than to lunge at his dad and cry for hours. However, the movement seemed to remind Milo about what he was holding onto and he tensed up again. 

Dan looked at Milo worriedly. He moved to to get up again, but Reese gave him a stern look. 

“That’s enough, Mr. Fuller.” She watched him as he hesitantly scooted back into the bed. “You were concussed something fierce, not to mention the broken jaw and fractured cheekbone. You are going to stay still until at least the swelling goes down so we can do surgery.”

That was right. He and Aaron went to Donna’s old house. The rest was kind of  fuzzy, but Dan was pretty sure Jake ended up being there. Milo was left with Cody. And now Dan and Milo were both at the hospital. 

“It’s weird treating you and not Milo. You’re usually the safe one,” Reese forced a faint smile. She looked at Milo for a moment and back to Dan. “I have to go do rounds, but I’ll be right back. Just- please. Stay still. There’s the call button if you need me.”

Dan absentmindedly touched the bandage around his face while looking over Milo carefully. Milo seemed beyond upset, but not physically hurt. Dan sighed in relief and sank back into the hospital bed. He closed his eyes without realizing it, and jerked back awake from the movement on the other side of the room. 

“Dad.” Milo sniffled, holding on to what was in his sweatshirt in one hand and wiping tears and snot off his face with the other. “Dad, Dad, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t-“ 

Milo was cut off by Dan wordlessly cupping a hand (the free one, the other was resting with the IVs) on the side of his face, silently wiping some of Milo’s tears away. 

“Mi’o.” Dan said again, this time quieter but equally as desperate. He looked at his son intensely, desperate to say more and comfort him but not about to test the waters with Reese any further. 

They looked at each other for a moment before Milo ripped his gaze away. Without another word, he dumped the splinters of Jake’s guitar onto Dan’s bed. 

To Dan’s credit, he didn’t scream or wail like Milo feared he might—or like what Milo felt like doing. In fact, other than a faint gasp,  Dan was so quiet that Milo had to force himself to turn around from the comfort of looking at the wall. 

Dan was holding part of the neck, eyes wide. Tears were pooling up and spilling down his cheeks, but he didn’t seem to realize it. He gently nudged one of the pieces aside, looking at the scope of the damage. 

The only response from the anchor- the thing keeping Jake with them- was a pitiful and faint cyan glow before fading out entirely. 

Dan tightened his grip on the piece he was holding and began to tremble. 

He didn’t scream or wail. Instead he cried quietly, holding the remaining pieces of his best friend. Milo wasn’t sure how long he watched Dan cry. Milo cried too, sure, but it felt strange. Dan, Dan Milo’s father, Dan the strong, Dan the one who had to keep it together so long for both Jake and Milo. 

Neither talked much except occasional choked off apologies or reassurances. After awhile, it seemed to wear Dan out significantly. He fell asleep holding Milo’s hand in one hand and the same piece of the guitar in the other. Milo gathered up most of the pieces with his free hand, trying not to wake Dan up. 

And when Reese came back, she didn’t comment on the broken guitar in the bed or report Milo staying past visiting hours, sleeping by Dan’s side. 

And when Milo woke up with an additional blanket on his shoulders, his father fast and deep asleep still from painkillers, he didn’t say anything, either. But neither forgot. 

“-ilo? Milo?” 

“Hm?” Milo shook his head of the memory, trying to clear it like an Etch-a-sketch. 

“I lost you for a second.” Cody offered more tissues, and Milo was shocked to realize how many tears were streaming down his cheeks. 

“Sorry, I thought I was done with…all this.” Milo scrubbed at his eyes and wiped his nose

They sat in silence for a moment. The only sounds were Milo’s stifled sniffling and the gentle hum of the heater. 

“It’s…okay to be upset. It was scary.” Cody sighed. “But you can always talk about it, ya know? It’s been fun with you being here more– though the situation isn’t great– and I just wish… I don’t know.” 

Cody scratched the back of his neck and looked away. 

“Make sure to take care of yourself too, Milo.”   

Milo was silent for a moment before picking up the tape again and pulling the guitar into his lap. He ripped off a piece of duck tape and firmly wrapped it around the neck of the guitar. 

“I know.” He finally responded quietly. “‘Sides, even if I didn’t, I think you would- I don’t know.” 

“Post a ‘Milo cringe compilation everyday until Milo eats like a human?’” 

“I dunno, I’d have to be embarrassed first for it to be cringe.” Milo laughed. “I wasn’t eating like a human before, anyway.” 

“What about a ‘Cody snitches and tells Tegan, who won’t leave it alone’ kind of thing?’”

Milo gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“Nah, that’d be low. Even for me.” Cody leaned back before grinning. “Maybe…summoning an ancient god to hex you for your hubris until you get a full night’s sleep?” 

“Actually, that’s your closest yet.” Milo smiled back. “But where’ll you get the tome?”

“Ah. Rats.” Cody snapped his fingers. “You got me there. For now.” 

“You’ll find a way.” Milo yawned. “Always do.” 

“Heh.” 

The two sat in quiet for a moment as Cody watched Milo tinker with the guitar.

“I…think it’s finally sturdy.”

Milo gently handed the guitar for Cody to look over. Cody ran his fingers along the cracks and seems, before holding it as if to play. He then looked at it again before beaming at Milo. 

“Milo, you did it!” Cody handed it back. “It looks great.” 

“Thanks!” He took the guitar back and began gently picking at a piece of glue that obtruded above the crack it fixed. “All that’s left is tuning it, I think. I think.”

“Now would be a good time to take a break.” Cody got up from the bed. “Dinner’s been here and ready. I just came up here to ask about the grape juice.” 

“I…either’s fine? I guess?” 

“Does that mean you’ll come down?”

Milo looked away and held the guitar close. 

“Milo-“

“I just need to tune it. I already found tutorials online.” Milo smiled tiredly. “I’ll come down when I’m done, okay? And that’s it.” 

“…Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

Cody sighed and stood up. He hugged Milo briefly before heading to the door. 

“…Your plate will be in the fridge.” 

Cody stepped out of the room and headed to the kitchen. Cody couldn’t bring himself to meet Dom’s hopeful eyes. 

“Milo’s not coming.” 

  —-

“-Then let’s hear how it sounds all together! If you don’t have a pick, for a gentler sound, strum your guitar using your thumb like this!” The grainy figure adjusted their camera slightly before demonstrating a simple thumb. “My dad taught me this trick when I was-“ 

“Yeuch.” Milo shut his phone off before the tutorial could finish and flopped back onto the bed. 

He rubbed his eyes, wishing he shut the light back off when Cody left. He lay like that for a moment and counting his breath, hands gently pressed into his eyes until he saw the slightest bursts of stars. 

Finally, Milo shot up and began flapping his arm nervously, trying to calm down. 

“Okay, okay. Okay.” He took a deep breath and grabbed the guitar. “Dad, I dunno if you can hear me, but if this doesn’t work- if this doesn’t work, I’m going to take a break for a bit, okay? I’ll come back, but I’m beginning to think Cody’s right, and- okay.” 

Milo held the guitar like how he saw in the video and took deep breaths in and out. 

“Okay. On the count of three.” 

“One-“ Milo lifted his hand shakily and held it just above the chords. 

“Two.” He took a quick shallow breath, meaning to do the exact opposite. 

“Three.” 

Milo strummed the guitar. There was the sound of glass breaking and a bright cyan light engulfed his vision. 

  —-

  The guitar was ripped away before Milo could realize what was happening. 

It floated to the middle of the room, where it hovered before a figure formed around it. The figure, entirely blank other than vaguely humanoid, hesitated before quickly taking on their features. First was a neat burial suit, followed by tired eyes and a shock of blonde hair. 

  In a matter of seconds, there was Jake. 

  Jake collapsed to the floor, holding on to the guitar strapped to his chest like a lifeline, and took a deep and unnecessary breath. His hand moved from the guitar to grab at his unmoving chest. He gasped again before starting to get up. 

“Dad?” Milo tried to blink some of the blotches out of his eyes. 

“Milo-“ Jake started, but Milo had already jumped off the bed and bounded toward him. 

Jake instinctively raised his arms to hold Milo in the embrace, but they phased right through Milo. The guitar stopped Milo from going through him entirely, which caused Milo to gently lay a hand on it as be began breathing faster and faster. 

“Sorry,” Jake started. He cringed slightly at the echo effect of his voice. “I don’t think I’m all the way back yet-“ 

“Dad, I’m so sorry for fighting with you and saying you’re not my dad, and for making you feel like you can’t tell me stuff, and I’m sorry for taking so long to fix this and for the haunted house and for talking back to you and-“ 

“Breathe.” Jake smiled softly and got as close as he could to wrapping his arms around Milo. Milo shuddered for a second at the cold sensation rather than the feeling of touch. “Milo, you did so, so great.” 

“But I- but I…” Milo trailed off and burst into tears. 

The two stood in the mock hug for a moment, Milo’s hand not leaving the guitar. Jake waited until Milo’s breathing evened out somewhat into a quiet hiccup. 

“You brought me back.” Jake reached up and held his hand as if he were cupping Milo’s cheek. “You put back together the guitar—that’s incredible! You’re incredible, Milo.” 

“Yeah.” Milo sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Yeah! Take that, Cody! Sleep is for the weak!” 

Jake chuckled. 

“I don’t know about that.“ He cleared his throat. “Im fact, I think sleep might be up there in the whole ‘human needs’ thing. When’s the last time you slept?” 

He sighed in relief as the echo effect dissipated, pulling back slightly to take in Milo’s expression. 

“Boo, not you too.” Milo pouted. “Cody and Dad have been getting on my case nonstop already.” 

“Well, they’re right. I…” Jake looked away. “How…is Dan doing, by the way?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Is he okay?” 

“He’s getting his stitches out today!” Milo smiled for a moment before his expression fell into confusion. “That’s why I’m at Cody’s. Uh, here at Cody’s. I guess.” 

“Uh-“ Jake blinked in surprise. 

“Did…you really were gone, huh?” 

Jake scratched the back of his neck and looked at the floor, still somewhat surprised by the realization he wasn’t in their house. 

“Not gone. It was like-“ He shook his head. “I don’t know how to describe it, but not gone. And just now, Milo, you made the door to bring me back here.”

Jake held up the guitar and smiled. 

“I could feel you, though. Whenever you touched this, Milo, I knew it was you. And Cody sometimes. But Dan…” He trailed off and the smile vanished entirely.

“I think he’s been having trouble.” 

“Oh.” 

“He missed you a lot.”  

Jake laughed dryly and looked away again. 

“Well, I missed him too. I missed all of you so much.” 

Overcome with the need to ease the tension to the point he was nearly vibrating, Milo quickly replied. 

“Not as much as Cody’s gonna miss his window!” 

“What? Oh- oh my god.” 

Jake stood up quickly to get a better look at the blown-out window.  

“Did I do that? Or did you do that?”

“Definitely you. You know, this time.” Milo followed suit and peered around Jake to take in the scene. “You exploded before you came back. There was a bright light and boom, you knocked out the window. It’s…weird no one came up to check on the noise.” 

“I will definitely make sure that gets fixed.” Jake walked over to sit on the bed. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before absentmindedly fiddling with the tuning pegs of the guitar. 

Milo hesitated before sitting on the bed beside him. 

“…Was I close to doing it right?” 

“You were really close. It just needs a little more tweaking, but I can’t say it enough-the fact you fixed this without me teaching you about the parts of a guitar, the way you fixed all the pieces together- you’re incredible, Milo. And I’m so, so proud of you.” 

“Thanks.” Milo yawned. “I think it’s dumb that you can sit on furniture but you can’t hug me after being gone for like three months.” 

“It has to do with affecting the environment versus affecting a person.” 

“Hmm.” 

“Environment comes first.” 

“You sound a lot like Cody.” Milo scooted back so his back was to the wall. 

“He taught me everything I know. Which is pretty ironic if you think about it.” Jake stopped tuning and looked out of the corner of his eye at Milo. “You never answered my question. When’s the last time you slept?” 

“Last night, technically.” 

“I can’t say it enough how proud I am of you for this and being brave,” Jake fully turned to get a better look at his son. Milo turned away. “But that’s not the answer I was hoping to hear.” 

“I know. I just haven’t been able to with, you know, everything going on.” 

They sat quietly before Jake grinned.

“When you were little-really little, you’d fall asleep right away if I played for you.” Jake turned his gaze back to the guitar. “You’d always sneak out of bed and say you were going to get a snack, or use the bathroom, or get a glass of water, but instead you’d go play with your toys.” 

Jake looked around the room and locked eyes with a video game ghost plush in the corner. “Now, you sneak out of bed and come here if you can’t sleep.” 

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for tradition.” 

Jake laughed and Milo cracked a tired grin back. 

“You should play.” Milo said. “If you want.” 

Jake hesitated before adjusting the guitar slightly as if to play it. He got his fingers over the chord and before stopping jerkily. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Milo quickly added. 

Jake nodded and played a few chords, expression falling to that of focus as he tried to get the feel again. After some more nitpicking with the tuning pegs, he began to tentatively pluck out more notes. 

He looked back over at Milo and the bags under his eyes. 

“You’re sure it’s not going to make you fall asleep?” 

“I promise it’s not. I’m fourteen, remember?” 

Jake’s grin came back with full force. 

“Oh, of course.”

Without another word, he began plucking out a lullaby from a decade prior. The room was silent save for the gentle music, the house almost seeming to have emptied itself to make room for the sound itself. 

Learning an effective lullaby after the much louder and angrier Problem Sons was tricky. However, it was nowhere as tricky as an energetic toddler—or, beyond that, losing Milo Sr. 

Once Jake was comfortable enough repeating the chords of the chorus, he began to sing. His voice soft and hoarse from disuse and his eyes never left the guitar as the melody played. 

By the time he was finished, he took a breath and turned slightly to gauge Milo’s reaction. 

Of course, it was an unnecessary measure. Jake chuckled and stood up, slinging the guitar around to his back. 

“You shouldn’t make promises you don’t think you can keep.” Jake whispered to Milo’s sleeping form.

He gently brushed the hair out of Milo’s face and kissed his forehead. 

  “Goodnight, Milo.” 

  __

  The young woman shuffled in the room holding two mugs, still shaking slightly from the events that unfolded months prior. She offered a cup to her guest and took the other before sitting on the couch. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call,” she said. She took a long drink from the coffee and took a deep breath. 

“You’re quite alright.” The guest fiddled with an unlit cigar. “You’ve been such a help for us. I’d love to return the favor any way I can, though I can’t say the same for your husband.” 

“I know, but you’ll do it for me, right?” The woman looked up hopefully, holding her breath for the response. 

“Ghosts are typically not something the Church helps with. Demons, sure-but ghosts?”

The priest set down the coffee mug and stood up, walking around the room and looking at the pictures that hung the walls. He stopped at the painted portrait of the Virgin Mary and sighed. 

“Even if it was something we normally helped with, it’s been months.”

“I know.” The woman sniffled and set down her coffee mug to grab a fistful of tissues. “It’s just- I haven’t been able to sleep. I’m still scared of it coming back-it used this fire, and while it didn’t burn anything inside, it still was bright blue and real and- did you know the house that used to be here burned down? What if it was the ghost? We can’t afford to move again-what if it comes after us this time?” 

“Calm down. Take a deep breath. I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.” 

The woman obeyed, taking in a lungful of air and holding it until the priest spoke again. 

“Your family has been in our church for decades. I cannot emphasize this enough- this is not something we can normally do. But-“ He sighed and scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “I will do it for you, just for you, and just because it’s you.” 

“Oh, thank you-“

The priest interrupted. 

“I fully believe the ghost is no longer within this building. However, for your ease of mind, I promise I will track it down if it’s still on this plane and send it to its rightful place.”

 He stuck the cigar in his mouth, chewing a bit at the mouthpiece while thinking. “Therefore, we need to know more about it. You said this place burned down before?”

“Yes. It was completely destroyed. The owner sold the property immediately after. We bought it from her and built the new house.” 

“She might know something; I’d be happy to reach out to her and get this started. Do you happen to have her name?”

“I took out the house information as soon as I heard you were coming.” The woman responded.

 She went to the dining room before returning with a handful of papers. She dug through them before coming across the deed. 

“Oh! Here we go. That’s right.” She looked up and smiled at the priest, waving the sheet of paper. 

“It was Ms. Donna Pierly.”

#ASJFKLSDHFLSADHGLSADKFLKSDAHGASBFKDSAKLFHSITESABFJLVFSSAIUFALSBJFKLSAJFHSDAHFLSDFJsd #ITS HERE #ITS HERE AND MY HEART HURTS NOW THANK U SO MUCH #I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE YOU AND I M SCREAMIN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #WHAT A GOOD STORY DUDE LIKE...SERIOUSLY #but also how dare you end it like that you MONSTER #friend art #fics #ghost jake #submission