We've Always Loved The Color RED

At da house

(A/N this is about what the Johnny's did back at the house)

Ghost looked around the house. It had been so quiet since Jimmy was gone. It was almost eerie. It was also a bit warmer than usual. Ghost sighed. Toast had been running around the house, not literally of course. He was just doing a bunch of random things around the house. Ghost enjoyed watching him. It was amusing to see Toast buzzing around the house. Toast noticed Ghost watching him. 

"Why are you watching me, Sir?" Toast questioned, stopping. 

"... because I can." Ghost mumbled, smiling. Toast smirked. 

"Well alright then! You're coming over here now!" Toast exclaimed. Ghost gasped in surprise as Toast scooped him up in his arms. Toast carried him over to the kitchen. He put Ghost down and pointed to a stack of clean dishes on the counter. 

"What do you want me to do?" Ghost asked with a very confused tone. 

"Put them away." Toast told him. Ghost narrowed his eyes. 

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that? Do I have to crawl on the counter?" Ghost questioned, frowning.  

"Yes Sir!" Toast laughed gently, patting his shoulder. Ghost sighed. He stood on his toes, opening the cabinet doors. He then crawled onto the counter, occasionally looking back at Toast. Ghost watched nervously as Toast walked away. He turned back to the cabinet, slowly and carefully placing each piece inside. Ghost was scared that if he wasn't careful he would either drop a dish or fall off the counter. As Ghost put away the dishes, he began to remember. Nothing terribly important, more interesting honestly. Ghost remembered the look on Jimmy's face when he told him he cared. Jimmy looked shocked to say the least. But that's not what interesting him. No, it wasn't the look on Jimmy's face, but his eyes. It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. All Ghost saw that night was despair and the deepest, truest of apologies. A man, a boy, who had lost all hope. Jimmy had stabbed himself repeatedly in order to save his life. That was one of Ghost's more urgent questions. Why would Jimmy draw his own blood, just to save one little life? Ghost had a feeling, no, he knew that there as more to Jimmy than that cold hearted murderer everyone had heard about on the news. Jimmy had a story, and Ghost wanted to hear it. 

Toast peaked downstairs, curious to see if Ghost was still up on the counter. Much to his surprise, he was! Although he seemed to be spacing out pretty hard. Toast waled downstairs. He had a feeling that if he "woke" Ghost up, he would fall or something. He stood behind Ghost, ready to catch him if at all needed. 

"Sir?" Toast questioned, gently tapping his shoulder. As expected, Ghost jumped and fell. Toast caught him. Ghost looked at him, a startled look on his face.

"Sorry Sir, I didn't know if you were awake or not!" Toast apologized, smiling nervously. 

"It's fine, it was probably bad of me to be spacing out anyways..." Ghost sighed. Toast was a bit curious. He wanted to know what Ghost had been thinking about. He had a feeling it was something bad. Toast was afraid to ask. He sighed. He would ask later.