The Beach (Mimmy)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Singing and Non-Existence

“Through all the dust it becomes clear. You will always be my heart. There's no death, no end of time when I'm facing it with you.”

-          Avenged Sevenfold, Acid Rain

Matt had come to the conclusion that the worse he felt, the better Jimmy got. He was curled up in bed, sniffling and coughing and feeling absolutely miserable, and he could hear Jimmy romping around the house, chasing Bella and screaming the lyrics to some pop song. He ran into the bedroom and leapt onto the bed, causing Matt to groan and turn on his side. “Stop, Jimmyyyy…” he groaned, burying his face under his pillow. He felt like absolute shit, and Jimmy bouncing on the bed made him lightheaded and even more nauseous than he already was.

Jimmy stopped abruptly, curling up next to Matt and pulling him close. “I’m sorry, baby.” He murmured, sobering instantly as he kissed the back of Matt’s neck.

Matt just grumbled, trying to will his headache to go away. His husband ran his hand soothingly up and down Matt’s arm. “I love you, Mattie.” He murmured, “I wish I could make you feel better.”

The vocalist turned to Jimmy and kissed him softly, smiling at him fondly. Jimmy met Matt’s kiss, and whispered, “Hey, I’ve got something to show you.”

“What is it?” Matt murmured, kissing over the handcuffs on Jimmy’s neck.

“It’s a surprise. Come on, it’s in the living room.”

Matt sighed and rolled out of bed, pressing his hand against his head to try and staunch the pulse of pain from his headache. “Let’s go then.”

He followed Jimmy into the living room, and watched as Jimmy launched himself forward and settled down at the piano in the corner of the room. “I wrote a song.” He said, fingers skimming lightly over the white keys. “I wrote it after I left, but I want you to hear it and see if you guys can use it.”

“Sure.” Matt smiled, feeling excitement well up in his chest. He loved it when Jimmy wrote songs, and he could not wait to hear it.

“But my only condition,” Jimmy paused before he began to play, “is that you have to say you wrote it. This is for you, and I want you to take the credit. You and the band.”

Matt frowned a little, but nodded. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

Jimmy positioned his fingers over the keys and played a simple chord. “It’s called Acid Rain.” He murmured as he switched chords. Matt leaned against the wall, smiling softly in awe of the genius riff Jimmy coaxed from the keys. His voice broke in to accompany the riff, and Matt reveled in the strength and meaning that shone in Jimmy’s voice, the lyrics striking him deep within his heart. It was a song about leaving, about letting go, and it was beautiful.

When his hands stilled, and his voiced silenced, he turned to look at Matt, shy nervousness in his clear blue eyes. “Did you like it?” he asked.

Matt could only nod, unable to find his voice, still dumbstruck by the sheer beauty of the song. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. Jimmy laughed, “Good, because I wrote it for you. I’d be absolutely mortified if you didn’t like it. Do you want to learn it? I can teach you the chords and the words right now…”

Matt nodded again, moving to sit next to Jimmy on the piano bench. There was no way they could not use this song on their next record, whenever that came about. The song was flawless.

They spent the morning and most of the afternoon working on the song. Soon, Matt had it down, could play it and sing it perfectly. “I’m really glad you like it, babe.” Jimmy murmured, kissing Matt’s temple as Matt played the final chord.

“How could I not like it, Jimmy?” Matt asked. “It’s beautiful. Amazing. It’s fucking awesome, I’m sure the guys will love it.”

“Matt, I brought food!” Zacky’s voice sounded throughout the house suddenly, and Jimmy’s face lit up.

“Zacky?” he asked, bounding out of the living room and into the front room.

“No, Jimmy, wait!” Matt called out, tearing off after the drummer, but resorting to a quick walk when his pounding head and churning stomach protested.

“What?” Zacky asked, and Matt came into the front room just in time to see Jimmy fall right through the guitarist, face planting into the floor.

Matt watched Jimmy, watched him sit up and look at Zacky, confusion slowly turning into distress.

“Hey, are you alright? You don’t look so good, and you’re staring into space like you’ve seen a ghost.” Zacky bent his head a little to avert Matt’s gaze from his husband. “I brought some groceries for you.”

“I-I…” Matt trailed off, eyes still on Jimmy as tears welled up in the drummer’s eyes. Jimmy threaded his hands in his hair, tilted his head back, and began to scream.

“Seriously, Matt, what’s going on?” Zacky had turned away from them and went into the kitchen, and Matt took this opportunity to fall to his knees at Jimmy’s side, wrapping his arms around the shrieking drummer.

“Shhh, Jimmy, shhh.” He whispered, rocking him back and forth. “It’s okay, Jims, everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

Jimmy’s cries quieted into whimpers as he melted in Matt’s arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I-I hate it, I hate it, I-I f-fucking hate it.” He sobbed.

“I know you do, babe, why don’t you take Bella and go into our room?”

“Matt?” Zacky called, and the vocalist stood hastily, “Who are you talking to?”

“Uh, nothing- no one. I uh, I didn’t say anything.” He stammered. He needed to go into the kitchen, needed to keep Zacky’s suspicions as low as he could after this event, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the broken drummer’s side.

“M-Mattie…” Jimmy whimpered softly, fingers clutching at the carpet, and Matt staggered back, feeling the waves of nausea crashing against him.

“I-I…” he stuttered, feeling lightheaded and disoriented, before stumbling to the bathroom, where he just managed to make it in time to be sick in the toilet.

Matt felt miserable as he retched over the toilet bowl, clutching at the sides and heaving. He didn’t know Jimmy would react that horribly to seeing one of his friends, and he wasn’t sure if the stress from that or his sickness that had caused him to throw up. Probably a combination of both.

“Matt?” Zacky asked, coming to stand in the doorway of the bathroom. “You okay?”

The vocalist nodded weakly, flushing the toilet and standing, reaching for his toothbrush as Zacky made his way back to the kitchen. He began brushing his teeth as he heard Jimmy start to shout again. “Zacky! Zacky, it’s me! It’s Jimmy! I’m right here, you fucker, look at me!!”

He rinsed out his mouth and went back into the kitchen, looking indifferently at the pair as Zacky put eggs in the fridge. “I won’t stay long, you look like you need some rest. Amy told me you were sick. Brian and Arin ought to be coming round tomorrow, but I have an appointment with Schecter in half an hour, otherwise I’d stay a while.” He looked up at Matt from his crouched position to put cans in the cupboard. “You sure you’re okay, man? You look like shit.”

Matt just nodded again, opening his mouth and closing it again. Jimmy was standing on the other side of Zacky, shoulders slumped in defeat, head buried in his hands. The guitarist smiled warmly. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you around, then.”

Matt nodded again, this time remembering to force a smile. “T-Thank you, Zacky.” He whispered, and the guitarist nodded.

“Don’t mention it.” He said as he headed for the door. “Hey, text me sometime alright? We oughta get together.”

“Okay.” Matt replied, hearing the door close behind him. His eyes were still on Jimmy, who looked at Matt forlornly. Matt opened his arms and Jimmy ran into them.

They didn’t say anything. Matt just held the drummer, and Jimmy pressed himself close against his husband. No one said they were sorry, or whispered I-love-you’s. They just held each other and Jimmy let out a shaky breath. It was all the comfort that they needed.