Greta Van Fleet // Oneshots

The Ghost of You // Danny Wagner

Word Count: ~3200

Warnings: whole lotta angst (with a happy ending)

Definitely inspired by the song "crashmyparty" by dreamfone, which you should absolutely listen to.

I don't write a lot of angst, but Danny is definitely my favorite to do it with since he breaks my heart so easily. Hope you enjoy <3

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You hadn't been to this lake in a long time, or so it felt. It had been a long time, but it felt like a whole lifetime since you'd driven over the bridge, over the huge pool, to the surely not forgotten but wavy memory. Along the road, you coasted in the car along the length of the lake at first, just looking over the calm shimmer of dull blue-green–a seagull coasted above right with you, wings flapping as it steadied itself in the air before landing on shore next to another, beaks open in silent calls. You had your music turned up loud, each note and word vibrating through the confined space and through your head, as if the sheer volume of it would knock your thoughts loose and they'd get lost out through the open windows.

The wheels of your car crunched over the gravel littering the little parking lot, a strip of pavement carved out at the far end of the lake, one of many secret spots that you didn't think you'd ever forget. You'd struggled to find it the first time–you'd called Danny, confused, and he'd guided you there, the sound of his voice like velvet even through the receiver. You didn't think you'd ever get sick of hearing it. Even when things went from calm, soft waves to tumultuous, broken blue peaks and stormy skies, you could admit only to yourself you wished you'd hear his voice. Months later, your heart still flipped every time your phone rang, some little awful part of your brain expecting it to be him.

It never was. Probably never would be. You knew that. But nostalgia was aching deep in your bones this morning. You stepped out onto the pavement and inhaled the cool air–everything felt so, so calm and quiet. It was so calm and quiet–nothing but birds, near-silent water and a blue sky, all of which you'd hope would warm your cold heart. Maybe it would, even though the idea of exploring the secret places you both loved so much seemed like a terrible idea, like the opposite of success. Surely it would drag you down to the depths of heartache and you'd drown. Again.

You headed down to the shoreline, walking steadily on the paved path. With no one else around, your mind was free to wander into all the memories again. When you reached the point where tangled green vines met a whole new path of sturdy trees, you remembered when you and Danny first walked there. You could remember every detail of him, how his hair caught the light and you noticed strands of deep gold and amber, the same shades that glimmered in his eyes when he smiled. The mosquitoes had been at bay that afternoon, the breeze coming off the water steady and strong, but at one point a fly had flown right into Danny's mouth. He'd coughed; you'd laughed and clapped his back in an effort to help, which made him laugh, too. It'd been so ridiculous.

The memory made you smile; the smile made you sad again, and you looked down at your shoes as you kept walking. Everything felt too familiar. The walk from your car to the cove you and Danny had found felt way too short and you stood between the trees, surprised, staring out at the perfect water nested between grass and sand, and the steam cutting the land in two. The log going across it was new–back when you and Danny first explored this, you'd both had to leap across it.

The big stone beneath the even bigger oak tree was the same, right where it had always been and might always be. You sat on top of it and leaned forward, fixing your eyes on the lake. Water striders danced across the surface with envious fluidity, their spindly legs so graceful as they spun and slid over the water as if they really were tiny dancers; blue-bodied dragonflies zipped around fast as light, hopefully preying on those flies that liked to come out and harass the world each morning; your attention diverted as one small fish jumped, then another, leaving ripples and rings in the water as they went back under.