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anthonyjlockwood · 3 years

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17 OF THE 50 WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU FOR LALEXIE PLEASEEEE

em, my fellow luke angst lover, my lalexie brain rot-causer, my beloved <3

here is your prompt on ao3. tw for discussions of luke wanting to cross over. please read responsibly💜

Luke’s song book has been through a lot over the years.

It’s had tears soaked into its pages. It’s had crumbs stuck in between its binding. It’s had dozens of songs written on it in fast, messy handwriting, thousands of words based on Luke’s inner thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams.

It’s survived years worth of scribbles, cross-outs, rips and tears; even hugs and kisses, when Luke’s written something he’s sure will be a hit someday.

It’s survived death, some time in a dark room, and a tumbling trip back to Earth twenty five years in the future.

And now, the boy who’s been writing in it for all that time, whose soul is attached to it in ways most people wouldn’t even understand, is using its pages for something else.

Something no one would have ever expected.

A list.

Ways I Can Cross Over.

He thought that maybe, Unsaid Emily would’ve been it. There was a small part of him that had expected to just vanish into thin air the second Julie handed his parents that sheet of notebook paper.

His notebook is almost empty now. Luke thinks that that’s fitting; he’s spent most of his soul onto the pages. He’s a ghost. He’s got nothing more to give. Maybe it’s even a sign -- a sign that he’s not going to need to write music for much longer. The notebook is running out of space. It’s running out of time, just like he is.

He wonders if he could even use a new songbook. It wouldn’t be a part of him, the way his old one was. It would be empty; a blank slate for him to start a new journey in. A whole new marathon to run just as he’s crossing the finish line of the last one.

And… he doesn’t want to.

He’s tired of running. Running from his parents. Running from Caleb. From things that he broke, from things that were threatening to break him. From things that were hurting his friends.

Luke’s always been one for impulsive decisions.

So after he makes his list, he dog-ears the page and gives himself a time limit.

He has until the pages run out in his notebook to figure out what his unfinished business is… and finish it.

The problem is, Luke’s life on Earth wasn’t that long. He’s had seventeen years to start things, and practically no time at all to finish them. The possibilities of what his unfinished business actually is are endless. There was that music festival the guys had wanted to play at the end of summer ‘95. Countless world tours they wanted to go on. He wanted to sign an autograph for Dave Grohl, shake hands with Mick Jagger. He wanted to drink chocolate from the world’s largest chocolate waterfall in Alaska.

So few of these things he could actually do, now that he was dead.

Even fewer of them he could do without the guys. If his unfinished business really had to be just for him, maybe the band stuff wouldn’t be enough.

He never finished high school. He never learned how to play the bass -- he’s always wanted to; after all, Reggie could play the guitar, so Luke should know how to play his instrument, too.

And the only other thing he could think of that was absolutely, one hundred percent his business to finish… was his relationship with his mother.

Julie bringing “Unsaid Emily” over to his old house had been something. It filled the hole in his chest just enough that he could pretend it wasn’t there. Having his mom finally see how he felt about her, how much he regretted leaving, was like putting an ice pack on a burn. It eased the pain for the moment, had him thinking maybe that would be enough, that it would heal properly. But the ice pack’s melted, now; it’s gone back to room temperature, and his heart is still screaming.

Luke wonders what else he would have to do to get rid of the guilt.

He knows -- he hopes -- that the guilt won’t follow him to the afterlife. Because it’s really the only thing about this ghost-limbo that he wants to escape from. He doesn’t mind the invisibility, or the intangibility, because those things have never really prevented him from playing music. Music, though, he’ll miss, but Luke thinks it’s a small price to pay. After all, Alex and Reggie should’ve had their whole lives to play music. And even if Luke crosses over, they still can. He’s the one who caused their untimely deaths in the first place.

And he can never undo that, but… something he’s realized as all of them have adjusted to being ghosts is that he’s not really needed.

Sunset Curve could go on as a trio. Julie would still have her found family in Alex and Reggie and Willie. Reggie would have his friends that remained, as well as Ray and Carlos to fill in any gaps.

And Alex and Willie would have each other.

For Willie, the whole concept of “unfinished business” is just… not really on his radar. He’s pretty content in his afterlife. He is, as the kids say, vibing. He’s moving along, singing a song. He was never in any rush to figure out what his unfinished business was, and he was especially never in any rush to cross over, to fade out of existence entirely and into the unknown.

He also never really understood why other ghosts would want to do that. Until he met Alex and the others, and realized that sometimes, urgency forces your hand. Outside circumstances throw you out of your comfort zone, force you to do things you never would’ve considered before.

But also, since meeting Alex, the tiny part of his soul that’s always been curious about what his unfinished business was -- curious about crossing over, about what’s on the other side -- has pretty much shriveled away to nothing. Alex gives a whole new meaning to Willie’s life -- to his afterlife, really -- but the drummer makes him feel alive again in a way that he hasn’t felt in decades. Long before he’d forgotten the age-old saying, look both ways before you cross the street.

Willie wouldn’t call himself the most observant person on Earth. Sometimes, he can be a little oblivious. He can be blinded to the truth, only see what he wants to see -- he can deny what’s right in front of him. Give people the benefit of the doubt who don’t deserve it, like he’s done with Caleb so many times before.

He tries not to stress about things. Tries to just be. Live -- or do whatever he’s doing as a ghost, honestly -- with no regrets, no looking back. He doesn’t worry about consequences. But at the same time, he’s also scared of disappointing people. Scared of how he’s coming across to other people. He needs to make sure he’s not messing up too too badly, because he wants the people he loves to love him back -- he wants them to want him to stick around.

So he pays attention. He misses stuff sometimes, sure… but Willie’s mission in his afterlife is simple. Chill out, do whatever he wants to do -- it’s not like he can get caught; he’s invisible. Just don’t get on Caleb Covington’s bad side.

Love whoever he still can, and be loved back.

Willie loves Alex. He’s loved him since the museum. He’s needed him since he ran into him on the street with his skateboard. But lately, Willie’s started to realize that he might also love Luke. Not any more or less than he loves Alex, which is a confusing problem in itself. And not really in a different way than Alex, either. His heart does somersaults when he’s around Luke now, too.

He might need him in different ways than Alex, though. Alex calms him down, grounds him when his head’s in the clouds or he’s too distracted by other things. He brings him back, makes him aware of what’s most important in the moment. He makes him laugh. Makes him think. Makes him stop and appreciate everything around him, instead of just whipping through his afterlife with no concerns. Alex makes him care.

But Luke… With Luke, it feels like he’s stuck upside-down at the top of a roller coaster, but there’s no one else he’d rather be stuck with. He feels more dangerous with Luke, willing to do things that he’s too scared to drag Alex into. He feels like there’s no limits. In one of Luke’s songs, he wrote face first, full charge, and that’s the exact energy he brings when he’s around Willie -- when he’s around anyone, really. He’s passionate, and driven, and so unafraid. Willie doesn’t have to be as careful around Luke.

And they’re both super protective of Alex.

Willie needs Alex for the slow rollercoaster ride to the top of the hill, and he needs Luke for laughter, for thrill, for excitement. For the thrilling, twisty way back down.

Willie’s not sure that anything feels complete without Alex and Luke.

So, since they’re both a part of Willie in ways that he can’t even really explain, Willie watches. He pays attention to both of them, taking in everything about them in quiet, soft, subtle ways.

That’s how he starts to notice that something’s off with Luke.

A week goes by, the pages in Luke’s notebook are dwindling, and he still has no idea what his unfinished business is.

It’s frustrating, having to narrow his entire life down to one possible milestone he’s never gotten to achieve. There are far too many. And the nagging voice in the back of Luke’s head -- the one telling him that Alex and Reggie have just as many milestones -- isn’t helping matters at all.

Luke just wants all this to be over. He deserves it -- he’s not sure whether he deserves the questionable peace crossing over would bring; everyone always says death is peaceful, anyway. But he definitely deserves the “no longer existing” part. And Alex and Reggie do deserve it. They deserve everything that life -- or afterlife, really -- can still offer them. Luke’s tired of holding them back. It feels like nothing’s ever good enough -- like he’s wearing shoes made out of lead, or something, trying to walk across a desert, and he’s got a time limit to get there. And Alex and Reggie are chained to him -- stuck in the same predicament, because they just had to follow him to that hot dog stand. He’s tired of getting them into these messes. First death; and, as if that wasn’t bad enough, into the Hollywood Ghost Club with Caleb Covington, all because he just couldn’t let his grudge against Bobby -- Trevor Wilson -- die.

He’s still writing music, but his lyrics aren’t as powerful anymore. They’re not as confident, not as inspiring. And he writes with Julie, but he thinks Julie can tell that his spark has dimmed.

He hopes that she thinks he’s just going through writer’s block, or something. Something fixable.

He’s been working on his list for the past week, too. He thinks he’s got his unfinished business pretty much narrowed down; there’s three things on his list he wants to try. School. Bass. Emily.

He needs Reggie’s help with the bass one, so he’s been putting it off. And Emily…

Luke has tried to steer clear of his old house since Julie gave his parents the song. Because… the fact that it didn’t help, that it didn’t ease the ache in his heart in exactly the way Julie hoped that it would, made Luke feel guilty. And he doesn’t really want to see if the song made a difference for his parents. Because what if it didn’t?

What if they’re like Luke, just wishing for more? More interaction that they can never have -- an actual conversation about the regrets that he touched on in the song? A physical hug, the weight of their arms around each other, a look of real, actual understanding in their eyes that Luke’s never thought he would actually see.

And the thing is… if his parents are Luke’s unfinished business, what the hell is he supposed to do about it?

The prospect of being chained to the Earth forever because of something he’d screwed up beyond repair when he was alive has his stomach churning, almost as badly as it was when he’d eaten that hot dog.

The easiest one for Luke to focus on is school -- which, if someone had said to him twenty-five years ago that school would be at the top of his priority list, he’d have laughed in their face -- and the easiest way for him to do it is through Julie.

Julie’s sufficiently banned him from actually showing up at her school, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do other things. Like homework and studying. So Luke’s plan is this: he’ll study with Julie, maybe convince her to let him do a couple of her homework assignments. And if she aces her next math test because of the work they’ve done together, Luke’ll consider it a win.

It’s the best option he has. It’s not like he can sit in a classroom anymore, or take his own tests.

He sneaks up on her one afternoon as she’s sitting in her bedroom, chewing on a pencil, face scrunched in confusion.

“Hey, Jules. Whatcha doin?”

At the sound of his voice, Julie looks up at him and her confusion transforms into a smile. “Hey, Luke! Just homework.”

“Need any help?” He shuffles a little closer to the bed, mindful of Julie’s distaste for having the boys in her room.

Julie’s face flips back to confusion like a lightswitch. “You… want to help me with my homework?”

“Yeah!” Luke huffs out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… was curious, I guess. About what you’re learning in school.”

“Why?”

“You know, I never finished high school!” Luke says. “I’ve kind of always wondered what it would’ve been like if I had. Y’know, walking across a stage in that dumb cap and gown. Um -- accomplishing something. Being able to finish something important!”

He’s saying too much -- he knows by the way Julie’s expression shifts, confusion into curiosity into concern.

“Hey, wait,” she says, placing her pencil down and closing her textbook. “Are you okay? Is there something you want to talk about, Luke?”

“What? No! I’m fine!”

He hates the way his voice comes out, rough and high-pitched and decidedly not fine. Julie looks like she’s about to argue, so he opens his dumb, not-fine, impulsive mouth once again. “Seriously, Jules. I’m good. Gotta go meet the boys now, see ya!”

He poofs away, but he can still see Julie’s worried stare still fixed on him behind his eyelids.

“Don’t you think he’s been acting kinda strange?”

Willie is sitting in the garage, Reggie on the couch to his right and Alex behind him, braiding his hair like he does when he gets nervous.

And he’s trying to console Alex, to tell him to relax, that they’ll make sure Luke is fine -- only the confidence that Willie’s normally so famous for is dwindling.

Alex is worried about Luke, and Willie would love to reassure him, except that Willie thinks that Alex has a point. Luke has been acting strange lately; way too over the top during rehearsals, more trips to see his mom than usual -- trips that he thinks they don’t know about -- plus, he’s been reading books.

Julie’s school books, which he takes out of her room sometimes and stashes up on top of the loft. Books that Alex found there earlier that day, when he was looking for his drumsticks. Books that Alex had asked Willie about… and they’d both determined that it was Luke who had brought them up there, because Reggie wouldn’t hide the fact that he was teaching himself Trigonometry, and Luke’s been acting really weird as it is.

“You said he’s doing math?” Reggie asks, eyes wide. Willie figures Reggie must know just as well as he does -- if not better -- what Luke doing math could mean: that he’s not acting like himself.

“Yes!” Willie flails, waving his arms wildly -- to make a point -- and knocking into his boyfriend, who flinches back, tugging on Willie’s hair in the process.

“Ow!”

“Well you didn’t have to jump like that!” Alex hisses back. “Stop moving. I’m trying to stress-braid.”

“Sorry, Alex,” Willie sighs, straightening himself on the sofa. Sometimes, Alex just needs to stress-braid his hair. It gives him something to do with his hands; it’s a way for him to occupy his mind -- to focus on things other than the anxiety. And Willie’s usually all too happy to provide that service (what feels better than having your hair braided, especially by a boy you love?)

“Do you think he’s okay?” Alex mumbles, fingers once again fumbling through Willie’s hair in his unpracticed, clumsy way.

“Why don’t you guys just talk to him?” Reggie asks. “D’you have any idea what could be wrong?”

“No,” Willie huffs. “He’s just been acting so weird. I know it’s something. He’s doing stuff that he’s never cared about before -- like math. But also just… the stuff he normally loves, music. He’s… acting like it’s gonna be taken away from him, or something. Haven’t you noticed how hard he’s pushing you guys in band practice?”

“He’s acting like… like we’re running out of time,” Alex realizes. “But why?”

Just then, the boy in question poofs into the garage -- like he was rushing to get there; his landing’s not clean, and he stumbles around for a moment before catching himself on one of the microphone stands. He straightens up and sees that he has an audience.

“Hey -- hey, guys,” he stammers. “What’s up? We gonna practice?”

His eyes fix on Reggie, then, and he perks up. “Oh! Reg! I’ve been meaning to ask you -- can you teach me how to play the bass?”

“Can I--” Reggie stops, stares at Luke for a moment, trying to piece everything together.

Alex, though, right in front of Willie behind the sofa, looks like he’s already figured it out. He blinks at Luke. “You want to learn how to play bass?”

“I always have,” Luke shrugs. Alex studies him, and Luke twitches under his gaze.

“I just thought it would be cool, ya know, to know all our instruments. So can you teach me, Reg?”

“Um -- I --” Reggie’s eyes dart between Alex, Willie, and Luke, probably trying to figure out what the right thing to say is. Willie doesn’t know, exactly, but he knows one thing for sure: there’s no way Luke’s sudden interest in learning the bass is a coincidence.

Alex seems to be on the same page, but unlike Willie, he’s more inclined to take charge, to do something about it. “Reg, can we talk to Luke alone for a minute?”

“Yes,” Reggie lets out a sigh of relief and poofs away, leaving Willie and Alex to deal with… whatever this is. Willie still isn’t totally sure.

He’s once again enormously grateful for Alex, and the fact that his boyfriend has a pretty good handle on what’s going on in the world seventy-five percent of the time. Because it shocks Willie just as much as it does Luke when Alex says, “Why are you trying to cross over?”

What?

Willie hasn’t put the pieces together nearly as well as Alex has -- in fact, he feels like they’ve been working on entirely different puzzles. Why would Luke be trying to cross over? Why would he want to leave all the guys, and Julie, behind forever?

He wouldn’t. It doesn’t make sense.

Except the second the words leave Alex’s mouth, Luke freezes, eyes wide like he’s been tossed into the path of an oncoming train, shoes welded to its tracks.

And Willie starts to think that maybe his boyfriend wasn’t so far off the mark, after all.

“There are people who love you, you know.”

Luke blinks up at Alex, still frozen, still thrown for a loop, still… not understanding how Alex figured him out.

“How do you think we’d feel if you crossed over?” Alex continues, his intense gaze still fixed on Luke, Luke squirming uncomfortably underneath it. “Without us? Is that… is that something you want?”

Alex’s voice finally cracks, betraying the emotion underneath it, and it’s almost too much for Luke to take. His wild eyes dart around the studio, looking for something -- anything -- to focus on, to take him out of the moment… and he finds the string lights, hung across the walls and the ceilings. He starts counting the bulbs, reciting the numbers in his head. He only makes it to seven before Willie’s voice breaks his concentration.

“Luke?”

“How… how did you know that’s what I was trying to do?” Luke mumbles.

“Well… the math’s what clued me in,” Willie lets out a half-hearted laugh as Alex takes slow steps around the sofa and sits down.

“Come here,” he calls out to Luke -- and although every bone in Luke’s body is screaming run, get out, get far, far away from this conversation… he finds himself joining them, sitting down in the spot on the couch they’ve made in between them.

“We just want you to know there are people who love you,” Willie says. “People -- people who need you, Luke. You can’t leave us, okay? You can’t cross over. Not without us.”

“But you -- you guys and Reggie and Julie -- you don’t need me.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex asks. “Of course we--”

“You and Reg would still be alive if it weren’t for me,” Luke growls. “So don’t say you need me. All I do is mess everything up. You guys, our careers, my parents…”

“Hang on, Luke,” Alex reaches a hand out, momentarily caught off guard. Luke doesn’t see why; it’s not like what he said was that complicated. He’s messed up. He breaks things. He ruined his parents’ lives by running away. He almost ruined Julie’s life, by getting involved with Caleb. And -- and Alex and Reggie…

“None of that’s your fault,” Alex says with conviction.

“Alex--”

“No!” Alex gets up, suddenly, and starts to pace around the room, fingers digging through his hair. “You have to know that. We don’t blame you for any of that!”

“Luke, Alex is right,” Willie reaches a hand out, cautiously, and takes one of Luke’s. When Luke doesn’t pull away, Willie pulls him even closer, into his chest, and starts gently running his fingers through Luke’s hair.

Luke sinks into Willie’s chest, eyes following Alex’s nervous pacing -- he’s biting his lip, and his hands are shaking slightly. Luke hadn’t realized that it might be hard on Alex, too, dealing with Luke’s current mental spiral.

He pulls away from Willie, ignoring the other boy’s whine of protest, and sits up to face Alex. “Hey, Alex,” he calls out quietly. “Come back and sit down. I’m-- I’m good. You don’t have to worry about me. Just… take deep breaths, okay?”

“Are you seriously trying to calm me down right now?” Alex snaps. A flash of hurt crosses Luke’s face -- one that he must not be quick enough to hide, because Alex’s own face softens at the sight of it.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Luke… I--”

“Just come back here and hold me, please,” Luke croaks.

Luke… doesn’t cry much, if he can help it. He hates tears, both his own and other people’s, and generally tries to avoid them at all costs. But… the look on Alex’s face, the tone of his voice -- his scared, anxious, desperate voice as he snapped at Luke for trying to calm him down -- has the dam breaking, finally, and the tears are bursting out of Luke’s eyes and running down his face before he even knows what’s happening, running down and soaking into the collar of his flannel shirt.

At the sight of Luke’s tears, Alex startles, and makes a beeline for his side. Luke is thrown into a group hug, Alex and Willie on either side of him.

And he just lets himself cry.

It takes a while, but finally Luke calms down a bit.

He stays on the couch, sandwiched in between two of his favorite people on the planet. Willie’s hands are still running gently through his hair; Alex’s thumb is rubbing small circles on his wrist.

His tears have finally stopped, but there’s this annoying, puffy ache in his head and behind his eyes that feels like it’s going to linger for a while.

It’s quiet, and the quiet allows Luke to think about everything that’s happened that day -- after weeks of his stupid, ill-advised mission to complete his unfinished business, he’s been found out.

And he found out that people -- Alex and Willie, who are love and sunshine and light and everything beautiful about the world personified -- would actually miss him if he was gone. That people care, that they don’t blame him for the stuff that he’s been blaming himself for for months.

It’s… a lot to wrap his head around, and even though the tears have stopped, the uncertainty and anxiety and desire to not be a burden is still swirling around in his head, leaving him silent and still as he sits there in between Alex and Willie, his head now resting on Willie’s shoulder.

He knows that those feelings, like the ache he feels in his heart and his head, will probably be around a while.

“I’m sorry for making you worry ‘bout me,” he mumbles, burrowing his face even deeper into Willie’s loose-fitting sweatshirt. Willie’s arms wrap around him and hold him there, and Luke takes in a deep, slow breath, inhaling Willie’s musky scent, shutting his eyes in the first moment of contentment he’s felt in weeks.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Alex whispers. “None of it’s your fault. There are people who love you. We…”

He stops, and Luke turns his head as much as Willie’s grip will allow to try to see why. He’s able to just peek at Alex out of the corner of his eye, and he sees that the other boy’s frowning. Like he’s unsure of what he’s about to say. Like he’s nervous.

“Alex?” Luke struggles out of Willie’s grip, and reluctantly, the other boy lets him go. He shuffles to the other side of the sofa, closer to Alex, and the drummer opens his arms for Luke willingly.

Being in Alex’s arms is different than being in Willie’s, too. Alex is sturdier; less teddy-bear like than Willie is, but comforting and warm and inviting all the same. Alex’s arms feel like home just as much as Willie’s do, and Luke melts into the hug instantly, like an ice cream cone on the hot pavement in July. Alex’s hand runs up and down Luke’s back and Luke shivers, eyes threatening to slip closed despite his need to hear Alex’s answer.

“Willie and I love you, Luke,” Alex says softly. There’s no more uncertainty -- a hint of nervousness, but Luke doesn’t doubt what Alex is saying for a second. There’s a conviction in his tone -- a confidence -- that Alex only really uses when talking about people he loves. This… defensiveness, this love, this conviction.

“We don’t have to figure everything out now,” Alex continues -- probably realizing Luke’s been through enough that day. Luke appreciates that, actually. There’s only one answer he would ever give to Alex and Willie -- only one thing his heart’s ever wanted; Luke can see it now, now that the sound of his heartbeat is pulsing in his ears, now that he feels like he’s both standing on the edge of a mountain, about to take a leap of faith into the crisp winter air below -- and at the same time, on solid ground, in no danger of falling, of stumbling, of getting hurt. He feels safe and exhilarated all at the same time, and this feeling is both familiar and completely new, more amplified than it usually is. Not what he’s used to.

But Luke feels like he’s ready to take the leap now. He still feels guilty, still isn’t actually sure whether his friends -- his family -- would be better off without him. But Alex and Willie have never steered him wrong before.

When he’s sitting in between them, their arms around him and their warm, soft hands running through his hair… Luke feels like maybe he can get through anything.

#julie and the phantoms #julie & the phantoms #jatp #jatp fanfiction #jatp fanfic #luke patterson #alex mercer #willie wilbur williamson #lalexie #angst #prompt fill

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