Low Point in Life- Ryan/Shane

Coffee

A/N: Sorry it's been a while, you guys, I'm stressed a lot and still working some stuff out. The recent revival in demand for the next chapter was my reminder that I need to publish again. Thank you guys so much for reading!
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Ryan didn't understand what was happening. The report came back and they were positive that it was a suicide.

Shane had killed himself.

But now, Shane came back telling him that it was some sort of freak accident, or he was murdered? He felt that he couldn't catch a break. "You- you're sure about that?"
"Just because I'm- I was an antisocial, junk-food-loving piece of shit doesn't mean I wanted to die. Do you really think I would have shot myself? That mess hurts. I would have gone out in style." Shane smiles and Ryan all but follows suit.
"This is too much. Would you please just let me get some damn coffee before I have an anxiety attack or something?"
"Coffee would probably make that worse, but okay. I'll shut up."
"Thank you." Ryan places a hand on the coffee pot before realising he hadn't made any. If he were going to have any sort of freak-out now would be the time. "Hey, bud, are you okay?"

"Would you be?"

"Fair enough."
Ryan appeared as though he was about to faint. Shane didn't know if there was anything he could do, or if his attempts would just make it worse. "So..." Shane had lost his train of thought. Funny he still thought. He could, quite obviously, move things, and he started wondering whether that would leave him as a ghost or make him a poltergeist. He wasn't angry, he...
Right. Ryan.
Ryan was using his shaky hands to try to make a pot but he lost grip of the handle. Shane didn't even have to think to swipe the glass shards out from under Ryan and in a pile over by the fridge. "You alright?" he asks, realising he'd already stated the question. "Not bleeding, no." Ryan was just fascinated by the whole situation, but without a functioning coffee pot, he felt like passing out. "Are you sure you didn't kill yourself? Because you're killing me," Ryan states blandly.
"These are innocent hands, bud."
"Far from innocent I'd say. You're dead."
"Well, to each their own. I never did anything that I knew of." Ryan almost laughed. 'That you knew of,' he thought.
"Wait, what did I do?" Shane asks.

Oh Lord, this was going to be a trip.

Immediately everything Ryan didn't want Shane to know about popped into his head, even if it was just for a split second. Ryan imagining them on a beach, with a nice hotel room on the top floor, enjoying themselves with nobody else around to tell them otherwise. The fun, the laughter, the kiss.

The sex.

Shane looked perplexed at this sudden want for affection and attention. "Did you just- mind-fuck me, in the most literal way possible?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ryan said, going to get a broom. Shane followed close behind, which was not good, because Ryan's heart was racing and every time he thought about it more the more awkward he felt, and the more heartbroken he got. He would have been in tears again had he not had a common goal in mind. Shane wanted to say something but felt heavy-handed, like he wasn't supposed to. Ryan wanted him there, but didn't at the same time. "You, uh... Sorry," Ryan muttered. Shane shakes his head. "No, it's okay." Ryan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He reminisced on the words. He felt like falling to the floor, his knees and hands shaky. He could barely even keep the common goal in mind. "I'm really sorry," he says, his voice breaking again. "Hey, it's okay, it's not like I haven't done that to a few people before."
"That's not what I'm talking about, that's a lie."
"Well whatever you have in mind isn't that bad, I'm sure."
"You've never seen your best friend dead on the floor of your house with blood just pouring out of his head before." Shane was hit with the words. It had never occurred to him that Ryan had actually seen him. Well, it would make sense; he wasn't there when he died, obviously, but it did occur in his home. Shane made the noise that would have counted as a sigh if he still had to breathe. "Sorry, bud. Things happen, I guess."
"Things happen? You're fucking dead."
"True, but I am one of the many who are dead."
"Yeah but-"
"But what?"
"Well, to be honest... I thought I'd go before you." Shane pauses. "Well that's a dim outlook."
"Well thinking about how your best friend is going to die isn't exactly tulips and daisies either."
"Or, you could just not think about it."
"It's kind of late for that!" Ryan said through clenched teeth. He was contemplating calling someone to tell them he couldn't make it into work tomorrow but he worried that he would drop his phone, too. "Sorry, I just- stressed."
"I get it. It's fine."
"No, it's not. This whole time I haven't stopped once to ask you how you feel."
"I'm dead, so, who cares?"
"I do!" Ryan says, tears forming in his eyes again. "Even if you aren't alive anymore you're still my best friend."
"I'm... Dealing. I don't feel great, but that's okay."
"It's not okay! It's not! It's all my fault and I can't do anything to make you feel better anymore! All I'm doing is making you feel guilty!"
"Absolutely not true. If you want me to be happy, you should try it first. You're the one still anchored to corporeality."
"That's bullshit. I can barely even bring myself to go to work in the morning, and you expect me to be happy?"
"...No, but I want you to be." Ryan rolls his eyes. "Same difference."
"Just because I'm a ghost- or poltergeist, or whatever- doesn't mean I can't hope."
"Whatever. Do you have any idea what your purpose is- like, figuring out who killed you, telling someone something, etcetera?" It was obvious Ryan was trying to change the subject. "Those were the exact two things I had in mind."
"Well, who would you want to tell what, first off?"
"...Sara. I'd want to tell her that I love her." That wasn't completely truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie either. If what he actually wanted to say was why he was even here, he didn't want to suddenly disappear so fast. Ryan was quite evidently a bit hurt, but he kept moving. "Okay, any reason why someone would want to murder you?"
"Like I said, these hands are clean. No idea."
"And that's it? Those are the only two things you could possibly think of?"
Shane shrugged. "Yup. Definitely."
Man, it was a good thing that Ryan couldn't hear him thinking, because he already had a million things he would say running through his head if he wanted to go.

I wish I could've stayed longer.

I want you to be happy.

I think you should let go, for your sake.

But, most of all,

I love you, Ryan Bergara.