#also in case it wasn't clear scott has zero connection to jimmy's death. like he wasn't even there

[chemdisaster]

wrote this on a plane while drinking to the new year and my birthday, so literally partly in 2023 and partly in 2024. belongs to my brand new modern au where the bad boys are childhood friends.

warning: because i'm me, it ends the way it does in limited life. as a result, much pain and suffering and jimmy is dead in this one

Joel gets in trouble with the law again, and again, and again. Minor offences at first, drinking in public and one instance of attempting to shoplift a cheap pack of gum that makes Grian about implode upon himself with incredulity—Joel has money, what in the world!—before he recognises it as Jimmy's favourite flavour.

They deal with that, too. He dutifully bails his friend out every time and does his best not to ask too many questions. The situation is far from ideal, but on some level he understands—everyone deals with grief in their own way. With luck, this should pass.

Then, Joel pulls a knife on Scott and has to pay a ridiculous amount of money to keep him from pressing charges.

That's when Grian loses it.

"What the fuck, Joel," he rants in the car on their way back from the police station. "What the actual fuck were you thinking."

From his far-too-relaxed position in the passenger seat, Joel snorts.

"He deserved it."

Grian sputters.

"He deserv—what, no, Joel, this is serious. You can't just go around pulling knives on people, that's not—what the hell is wrong with you?!" he bursts out, and surprises himself with the vehemence behind his exclamation.

And then Joel does something incredibly, infuriatingly Joel.

He rolls his eyes and asks, "Why do you care?"

In that moment, Grian wants nothing more than to punch him.

Steeling himself, he schools his expression into one of indifference. Two can play this game.

"I don't."

"Sure you don't."

"No, I'm being serious, Joel. By all means, continue self-destructing—but I'm not sticking around to watch. So far you've crossed every line humanly possible, and I just—"

His resolve breaks. For a moment, he takes his eyes off the road to stare earnestly at Joel, who looks away the moment he meets his gaze.

"The way you're heading, I'm about to become a singular Bad Boy," Grian confesses to the back of Joel's head. "And I don't want to see that happen. I've lost Jimmy, I don't want to lose you, too."

A pause.

Eventually, Joel forces out through gritted teeth, "Stop the car."

"What?"

"Stop the car. Stop the fucking car right now."

Grian slams on the brakes, and the car's barely had time to skid to a halt before Joel is wrenching the door open and setting off, walking briskly along the edge of the road.

Scrambling to get out of his own seat, Grian follows.

"Wait, no," he calls out. "Joel, what are you doing?"

"Leaving," Joel spits, barely turning around, his words carrying across the wind. "You're sick of having to deal with me? Congratulations, today's your lucky day. You'll never have to see my face ever again."

"No, Joel, that's not what I meant—"

"Oh yeah?" Joel swivels around. "Well, then I pray you, tell me what you really meant. Go on, Grian. Tell me why I shouldn't have killed Scott right there on the spot."

Advancing, he pushes at Grian's chest.

"Tell me, Grian," he repeats, and his voice gains a note of something resembling hysteria. "Tell me what's oh-so-wrong with me. Tell me why I'm the one who's wrong and everything isn't fucked, tell me, Grian—"

Grian gently catches Joel's wrists before his knuckles can come into contact with his face. Carefully, he says, "Scott didn't kill Jimmy. Jimmy's death was—"

"An accident, I know," Joel snaps. "It's always the accidents with him, isn't it? Missing steps, tripping over his own feet, falling off fucking bridges—"

Unable to do much more, Grian nods. Because Joel is right. It is always the accidents—it was, and they always joked about Jimmy being cursed, but now that he's gone, Grian can't help but wonder if the curse was really on them all along.

Feeling the tension slowly seep away from Joel's wrists, Grian loosens his grip and brings their hands down, interlocking their fingers. Joel lets him, and a temporary calm settles over the shore, but Grian knows him too well to believe that this means that the storm is over.

Sure enough, a moment later, Joel laughs, quietly and without any humour.

"You're full of shit, Grian."

Grian blinks, taken aback, and says nothing.

Joel continues, "You're actually, genuinely full of shit. Jimmy's gone, and you're expecting me to, what, not be at all messed up?"

Grian still doesn't answer. He doesn't know what to say, what he could possibly say to prove to his friend that he does care, he does, cares so much that it feels like he's going to rip apart from the inside if he lets himself dwell on it for any longer than he already is—every minute of every waking day.

Joel gives him a long, searching look, and whatever he finds makes his tone turn downright venomous when he carries on, "Oh, but it's easy for you, isn't it? You haven't cried or—or anything, you don't fucking—you don't give a shit, do you?"

He rips his hands away, stumbles backwards.

"Ever the reasonable one, always telling me to calm down, right? WELL I CAN'T CALM DOWN, MY FRIEND IS FUCKING DEAD!"

Grian levels a look at Joel, meets his enraged, devastated expression head-on.

"Joel, I'm just saying, this isn't the way to grieve. This is—you're destroying yourself, Timmy wouldn't have wanted you to—"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Silence.

The rapidly descending dark obscures Joel's face, but his sobs ring out loudly in the night.

"Oh, Joel."

With only a moment's hesitation, Grian steps forward and brings his arms around his friend, who instantly goes pliant in his hold. "I hate you, Grian," he cries into his neck, and his shoulders jump. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you—"

Grian sighs, "I know."

I hate myself, too, he doesn't say. Joel weeps with sobs that sound more like wails, and Grian does his best to swallow down the ugly and inhuman thing that rears its head at the base of his throat. He knows that, come tomorrow, none of this will matter, and the only thing that will still hold meaning will be the large gaping hole at their side.

With everything he's been telling Joel, maybe he really is nothing but a huge goddamn hypocrite, after all. Whoever said that it gets better is a fucking liar.

#starting the new year with p a i n #this isn't even the whole of it. so much pain in this one #also in case it wasn't clear scott has zero connection to jimmy's death. like he wasn't even there #joel just pulled a knife on him cause he fucking hates scott #the bad boys #grian #grianmc #smallishbeans angst #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #limited life #limlsmp #llsmp2 #trafficblr #life series #worddisaster #bad boys best buds au #trafficfic