#Reg gives off bass vibes idk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tangledstarlight · 4 years ago

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so um. didn’t do much at work today. wrote a thing. my entire thought process for this was ‘luke just. throws himself into any and every fight he sees that involves his friends huh?' and then i thought 'but what would happen if he couldn't fight for them??' and here we are.

it also stemmed from the fact that luke has big pre-serum steve rogers vibes?? if ya get me.

it’s a 5 +1 also. if that matters to anyone??

BUT ANYWAY!!!! this has a somewhat happy ending? if you squint? it was gonna be sadder, so idk. hmu if you want the sad ending i guess.

also on ao3

trigger warnings! blood mentions, implied/referenced child abuse, implied homophobia, character deaths (cos they’re yknow. ghosts)

one. Luke had spent so much of his time worrying about Reggie and Alex that he’d never stopped to consider the trouble that Bobby might get himself into.

And then he’s kneeling next to where Bobby is lying on the ground, his leg bent at an odd angle and there was a cut running down his cheek with blood dripping on tarmac. But he’s breathing. And that’s all Luke can find himself focusing on even as he hears the car that had hit him speeding away.

“Hey, hey Bobby. You’re okay man, you’re alright,” his voice is shaking but he doesn’t think Bobby notices, too busy trying realising the amount of pain he’s in. Luke can hear someone shouting behind them, thinks that someone called out about ringing 911, but he doesn’t take his attention away from his friend.

“My leg, Luke my– Fuck my leg hurts!” Bobby tries to sit up, his voice whining and letting out a his of pain as Luke gently keeps him lying in place. A vague memory from some long ago first aid class echoing in his mind about neck injuries and keeping the patient still.

“Yeah man, it’s uh,” his eyes dart down to Bobby’s leg, gulps and looks back up. He’s pretty sure his face must give him away. “It’s probably best you don’t look at it right now. Just, just look at me alright. Helps on the way.”

He can hear people talking around them, someone mentioning how far out the hospital is, another saying how disgusting it is for the driver to just run off without even stopping. Luke tries to tune them out. He can’t chase down a car, can’t find one driver in thousands and hurt them for hurting his friend. All he can do right now is try and distract Bobby from his broken leg and his pain.

“Don’t think I’ll be making it to rehearsals tonight.”

“Suppose we can let you off. This is a better excuse than Reggie’s one about the ducks that chased him,” Luke grins, he can hear sirens in the distance and lets out a shallow breath.

“My dad, I need to–” Bobby trails off and Luke isn’t sure if he’s lost in thought or just not sure what he needs to do. It’s not like either of them have been hit by a car before. They don’t know what they’re meant to do in a situation like this. Luke squeezes his hand, shrugs one of his shoulders.

“It’s alright. We’ll just take it one step at a time, don’t worry.”

There’s a beat of silence between them as they both seem to register what he said before Bobby is laughing and Luke is gaping in silent horror before feeling his own lips shaking with laughter too.

“Can’t believe you just made a comment about walking to a guy that’s just broken his leg. That’s low Patterson, even for you.”

two. Luke knew he had a reputation amongst his friends of being a little oblivious to certain things going on around him. He knew that he could sometimes get too caught up in his song writing, could miss obvious hints that people threw at him, could sometimes completely miss read a room. But he wasn’t stupid.

And he certainly wasn’t blind.

He had known Reggie since pre k. Had seen him at his best and his worst, had been there the day he showed up at school with the worlds worst hair cut, had helped him pick out his first bass from a cheap second hand music shop, had patted his back when Linsday Walters had dumped him during lunch when they were twelve.

Luke knew Reggie better then he knew just about anyone. So he knew when there was something wrong.

Not that it would have taken a genius to know there was something wrong when Luke was woken up at three am on a Thursday to someone knocking at his window. Reggie’s face peered in through the window, back lit by the streetlight across the road and making it incredibly evident that he had been crying, had Luke throwing his blankets off and out of bed quicker then he knew he could move. It took some awkward manoeuvring but eventually Reggie crawled in through the window and stood uncomfortably in the middle of Luke's room.

“Hey Reg…” Luke started, his eyes trailing up and down his friend quickly, trying to pinpoint what had brought him here so late. His eyes caught on the way the bassist held his left arm close to his chest, fingers shaking as he tried to ball his hand into a fist only to wince every time they moved. There were spots of blood on his shirt. Luke heard a roaring in his ears as he put together puzzle pieces of information he had always glanced over.

The Sullivan’s were well known in their friend group as the parents who fought the most. Reggie often made off hand comments and jokes about not getting much sleep, about stepping over broken glass, about falling down the stairs.

It had never once occurred to him that Reggie’s parents might ever hurt him.

“I– I didn’t know where else to go,” Reggie’s voice is quiet, small in a way Luke has never known him to be small. Reggie was always light and loud, the first to fill an awkward silence and to reach out in comfort. In all the years he has known the other boy, Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so subdued.

“You know you can always come here man, windows always open.” It’s an attempt at a joke and all it gets is a half hearted tug of his lips. “Are you bleeding, Reg?” Luke hates having to ask it, hates having to broach a subject that he’s fairly confident Reggie doesn’t want broached, but he needs to know how hurt his friend is.

Reggie blinks down at his arm, still held close to his chest, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it there like that. That it was hurt at all. But now as he looks at his fingers twitching and fresh tears filling his eyes, Luke can see him, physically, mentally, spiritually, falling apart in front of his eyes.

“Woah, hey, hey, it’s okay man. Let’s, let's just get you out of your jacket, yeah? We can do this, one step at a time.”

Luke walks towards him slowly, worried that any sudden moves might set off some kind of flight or fight response in his best friend and the last thing he wants right now is to cause him more pain. Reggie watches him with watery eyes, dipping his head once when Luke reaches out to gently move his arm and slip the leather jacket off him.

There’s a red stained cloth wrapped around his forearm, another around his palm and it takes all Lukes resolve to stay exactly where he is and not jump out his window and run all the way to the Sullivans house and scream at them for being able to hurt someone they’re meant to love. It takes a few more minutes of careful moving and unwrapping, pausing every time Reggie so much as hissed in a breath, before the damage is laid bare for Luke to see.

“Can I ask what happened?” It's a quiet question, and if he doesn’t want to talk about it Luke will drop the subject, wait until he’s ready to talk. But the cuts don’t seem deep, don’t seem like they were purposefully inflicted in the way he had first worried.

“They were– they were shouting at each other. I,” Reggie pauses to breath in, breath out, shakes his head. “I tried to get them to stop. Dad he– he threw a glass at me, mom pushed him then they both pushed me on the ground when I tried to stop them. Guess I kind of deserved it, got in their way.” He says it without making eye contact and Luke can feel himself staring at him with his mouth partly open.

Because Reggie is one of the best people he knows. He’s kind and funny and talented and just has so much love to share with the world that it sometimes comes out too forcefully for people to understand. If Lukes ever had a bad day, he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Reggie will always find a way to cheer him up. He knows that if there’s anyone in the world who doesn’t deserve this, it’s Reggie.

“No, that’s...no. Just no. You don’t deserve any of this Reg,” Luke isn’t sure what to say, how to make him see that nothing about this is okay. Luke is good with words, he’s good at writing down his thoughts and feelings and putting them to a melody and a beat, it’s what he hopes will one day help him achieve his dreams. But right now, right now all he can see is his best friend from childhood crying on his bed and all his words have fled.

He doesn’t know how to fix this. It’s not a fight he can jump into, take a hit while the other runs to find help. Luke has spent half their friendship standing in front of bullies for Reggie but he feels helpless in front of this one. So he gives his friend a smile, squeezes his shoulder and stands up.

“I’m going to find the first aid kit, alright? And mom made some cookies yesterday, there should still be some left. I’ll be right back, okay?” He waits until Reggie gives him a nod, a small smile on his lips before he goes.

Luke can’t fight this fight for him, all he can do is find the first aid kit, clean his cuts, steal him some cookies, and let him know he’ll always be there no matter what.

three. Some fights Luke knew, had to be fought with words. Some couldn’t be won with a quick shove or a haphazard punch to the nose. Some fights, he knew, weren’t his to get involved in. No matter how much he might have wanted to punch Alex’s parents as he stood under the porch light at the front of their house, peering in through the side window at the fight raging inside.

When Alex had first asked him if he’d come with him tonight, if he’d wait outside ‘just in case it goes badly, or y’know even if it goes well’, Luke had said yes without even a hint of hesitation. There was nowhere else he’d be then right here, right now.

Alex coming out to his parents, it was a big deal. It was more than a big deal. It was a life changing moment, a life destroying moment, and Luke wished he could shield him from this hurt. But all he could do was stand outside and watch it all unfold. He’d promised not to get involved. To just be a silent bystander. He really wished he hadn’t made that promise.

The look of disgust and hatred on their faces is something he thinks he’ll remember forever. Even from this distance, a window and a room away, their faces are clear to see.

It’s the exact reaction he had feared would happen, what he knew Alex had always known deep down would happen despite a small part of him hoping for the complete opposite. Holding on to a fruitless hope that his parents would look past all their bigotry and still remember that they loved their son. That he was still the same person he had always been.

It's one the many things that make Alex so wonderful, Luke thinks, the way he holds onto even the smallest bit of light in the dark even when everything shows signs of a total black out approaching.

And his parents are snuffing that light out.

With each shouted word, each hurled insult and slur.

Luke can hear Alex crying, begging for them to listen to him through the ajar door. Can’t they hear his desperation? How can they stand there, hurting him more, while he’s crying right in front of them?

His hands curl into fists at his sides, this isn’t a fight he can take on for Alex, he knows this. But god, he wishes he could just push that door open, deck Mr Bennet in the face, take Alex out of the house and never look back. Luke stays where he’s stood. He’s here as support, as someone to pick up the pieces when they were done, not to start a fist fight. He’d promised.

“Get the hell out of my house! Get out! And don’t ever fucking come back here, you understand? Get out!”

There’s the sound of a scuffle, of Alex saying something that gets lost in the sounds of more insults and words that Luke wishes he didn’t know the meaning of. Then the door is being pushed open and Alex is standing in front of him, face red from crying and hands shaking as he struggles to breathe. Luke doesn’t even think Mrs Bennet notices him as she throws a coat and bag out the door before slamming it shut.

“They– I– oh god,” he can’t seem to get a sentence out, his breathing ragged and Luke knows the signs of an impending panic attack well enough now to know what’s happening. So he puts aside his own anger, pushes down his instincts to fight back, and puts his hands on Alex’s shoulders, bending his head to get the blonde to look at him.

“Hey, hey, look at me man. Just breath. In and out, in and out, like me.”

They stand like that for a few minutes, breathing in and out until Alex has some semblance of control over his own lungs again and gives Luke the smallest of nods of reassurance that he doesn’t believe for a second. But he lets go of his shoulders, bends down to pick up the coat and bag, slinging a strap over his shoulder and offering the coat out to Alex. It’s still early spring and it’s bound to get cold.

“They–,” Alex has to take another moment, eyes darting between the closed door and the items in Luke's hands, “Th– they kicked me out.” His voice breaks on the word.

“I know.” Because there’s nothing else he can offer Alex right now other than his understanding.

He can’t take on this fight for him, can’t absorb the blows or the hurtful words, can’t go inside the house and force his parents to take back all the hurt they have caused in such a short amount of time. All Luke can do is reach out to take Alex’s hand and gently pull him down the road, away from the only place he had ever called home and give him somewhere to feel safe. Somewhere he can fall apart and put himself back together again.

“Come on, let's go back to mine,” he gives Alex’s hand a gentle squeeze and walks at the pace he’s set. It’s slow, hesitante, almost like he’s walking in a daze and is just letting himself be pulled along, muttered things under his breath.

“What am I going to do? God they’re right.”

Luke tilts his head to look into the drummer's face, frowns at the distant look he finds in the other boy's eyes even as his lips move, words he probably doesn’t even realise he’s saying out loud spilling from his lips. So he pulls them to a stop and stands in front of the blonde, grabbing hold of his other hand until he’s gripping them both.

“Hey Alex, Alex look at me man. Look at him,” Luke waits until he’s got Alex’s eyes on him, until he can see the drying tear tracks on his cheeks and can watch as he tries to keep a fresh wave from falling. “We take this one step at a time, okay? We get through tonight, and then we take on tomorrow.”

Something in his words seems to catch his attention and Alex takes in a ragged breath, eyebrows furrowing.

“We?”

“Yeah man. You’re stuck with me forever. You, me and Reggie did that whole blood oath with tomato juice thing like five years ago, remember? I’m not ever going anywhere,” Luke frees one of his hands and pushes Alex’s shoulder, grateful when he gets a huffed laugh and roll of his eyes in return.

They walk the rest of the way back to his house in silence, but Alex seems just a little more settled in himself then he had half an hour before and Luke takes that for a win.

four. Whenever Luke had thought about dying – and he hadn’t really given it much thought, he was seventeen, he was supposed to have more time – he’d always assumed it would be when he was old and in his bed.

Or maybe in some tragic accident like other rock stars before him.

He had never stopped to consider it would be a fucking hotdog.

The pain had started suddenly and forcefully, making sure it was the only thing he could think about. Like it had wanted to be the star of the show and would do so in any way possible. Luke can’t remember what it felt like to not be in pain.

Alex lets out a guttural moan of pain next to him that draws Lukes attention, stretching out his arm until his hand brushes the fabric of Alex’s pink hoodie, twisting his fingers into it so he knows that he’s there. That he’s not alone.

Reggie is quieter, even as he vomits – and Luke is trying to ignore the blood he can see, trying to not think about what that means – his chest heaving even as a paramedic rushes towards them. Luke catches Reggie’s eyes, tries to make his mouth move, to form words, to let him know something, anything.

But Luke doesn’t know what he would say even if he could. He doesn’t know how to save them from this. Doesn’t know if he can.

Luke had never thought about what happens after you die, but ending up in a dark room with Alex crying and Reggie sitting scarily still, it wouldn’t have been high on his list of possibilities. As he walked around the room, left hand on the wall so he could follow it around and around, Luke wondered if he could have fought harder to live. And then he sees Alex’s eyes going dim, sees Reggie’s chest stop moving, and remembers feeling his heart break. He doesn’t think this is a fight he ever had a chance at winning.

Whenever he’d thought about life and death and what came next, he always put it off. He just always figured he’d get the time, later in life, to think about it all. He’d been trying to take his life one step at a time and he’d accidentally leapt to the end goal by mistake without getting any of the fun in between.

They were seventeen and death wasn’t supposed to be something they gave much thought too and now they had all eternity to think about it. At least they’d have each other he guesses.

five. Twenty six years after dying Luke finds himself once again thinking about it.

Death.

Dying.

He doesn’t really think it’s something you can fight, if the Grim Reaper comes calling he’s going to leave with a soul. But Luke would personally fight the Death themselves if it meant he’d never have to see Julie cry the way she is right now. Soft and heartbroken and never ending.

But he can’t fight death. All he can do is sit next to her on the couch in the garage, one arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other holding her hand – because they’re tangible more and more often now, and on any other day he would be smiling like an idiot at getting to hold her like this. But it’s not any other day. It’s today and he’s just grateful he can touch here at all. – as she cries silently on his shoulder.

Alex has settled himself on the other side of Julie, tucking her legs under his longer ones almost like a blanket to keep her safe. Reggie has pulled a bean bag over in front of the couch and has his head resting between Julie's knees and Lukes. Each a solid presence around her.

Some days he can almost forget that the reason they are here at all is because Julie lost one of the most important people in her life. And that it was in grief and avoidance of memories and the need for a fresh start that she put on a cd and they had poofed back into the world.

He finds himself wishing he knew more about her.

The woman who had kept their EP, their shirt that couldn’t hold up in water, who had remembered them even when the world had forgotten.

“Tell us about your mom, Jules,” Luke whispers, not wanting to disturb the quiet bubble they have created but being unable to stop himself either. Julie’s crying stilts, her breathing stuttering as if she’s trying to comprehend what he’s asked. She knows she can always say no, that she can just not respond if she doesn’t want to. But Luke knows that this is the sort of pain you can’t fight, but you can ease it. He’s pretty sure Julie knows that too.

After a few minutes when Julie doesn’t say anything Luke accepts that she’s maybe not ready to talk yet and that would be okay too, they can just sit in silence.

But then slowly, hesitantly, Julie starts talking.

Starts telling them about her mom who had taught her to play the piano by sitting her on her knee. Who had chased her around the beach and made her laugh until her side hurt when they’d buried ray in the sand while he napped. Who had stayed up all night sewing tassels and strands of fabric together because Carlos just had to be Cousin Itt for Halloween.

She tells them about the times they had curled up watching her favourite films, the way they had shouted the lyrics to their favourite songs loudly in the car, their disastrous first attempt at making a rainbow cake.

She’s still crying, still keeps her fingers linked between Lukes, still lets her other hand alternate between Reggie's hair and tapping on Alex’s knee. But there’s a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there that morning, she’s laughing through her tears a little bit more with each story.

“I miss her,” she says eventually, letting out a shaking breath.

“I know,” Luke says, because it’s not really the same but he knows what it’s like to miss someone.

“But it’ll hurt just a little bit less each day,” Reggie chimes in, because it’s not really the same but he knows what it’s like to miss someone even when it hurts to think of them.

“And y’know, she’s always with you because you’ve got all these stories to share,” Alex tilts his head at her with a smile, because it’s not really the same but he knows that holding on to the good memories is sometimes all you have.

“Thanks guys,” she gives them a watery smile. “I don’t know what I’d do with you all.”

Luke doesn’t like to dwell too long on that thought, on a world where they pass over and leave her alone. Because it’s an all too real possibility so he pushes the thought back and nudges her shoulder and smiles.

“Nah, you’d be fine. You’d just take it one step at a time, you don’t have to go fast, you just gotta get through it.”

He doesn’t think he’s said anything too weird but Julie is looking at him with wide eyes and a silent ‘o’ on her lips. Luke frowns at her wondering what he’s done wrong now.

“Don’t look at him like that, it’s his go to advice for any problem. Just take it one day at a time,” Reggie laughs, imitating Luke’s voice as he says it and nudging his leg as he wiggles his eyebrows which causes Alex to laugh and draws Julie in too.

And Luke doesn’t mind that they’re kind of laughing at him, he’s just glad Julie is smiling. He’s not sure he’d win a fight with Death, but he’d give it a go if she asked.

+one. When Caleb pops back into their lives it happens so suddenly that Luke doesn’t even have a chance to second guess what he’s doing. All he knows is that Caleb is threatening the people he cares most about in the world, that there’s one option in front of him which only gets him hurt and Luke really hates bullies.

He doesn’t think about the pain that the jolts cause or that there’s a very good chance he’ll never see his family again or that playing music without Alex and Reggie and Julie just isn’t worth it.

He doesn’t think about that.

He thinks being seven and meeting Reggie, about meeting Alex, about meeting Bobby.

He thinks about all the bullies he was never big enough to protect them from, quick enough to run away from.

He thinks about when they were fifteen and Bobby got his by a car, broke his leg and got a concussion and how Luke just wasn’t quick enough to push him out of the way.

He thinks about being sixteen and Reggie knocking on his window covered in cuts and bruises and how Luke wasn’t able to protect him from the people who were meant to protect him.

He thinks about being seventeen and calming Alex’s breathing as his parents' shouts still echo around their heads and how Luke couldn’t make it any better because he didn’t have the power to change minds.

He thinks about being seventeen and suggesting they get street dogs and dying, about not being able to save them.

He thinks about being seventeen and stuck in a dark room for twenty five years and how Alex cried and Reggie looked lost and how Julie had to lose her mom to find them.

He thinks about Julie, crying between them all as she misses her mom and how much it would hurt her to lose them all.

“Luke, please. Don’t.”

Julie holding his hand, trying to pull him away. He can feel Reggie gripping tight to his other hand, standing half behind him with Alex who’s twisted his fingers into the material of his shirt. Standing behind him, just where they had always joked they’d be in a fight.

But Luke was never joking about it. Taking the hits so they don’t have to? It’s the easiest choice he’s ever made. It’s the one he’ll always make.

“I don’t want any of you to get hurt.”

Luke doesn’t realise he’s crying until his vision starts to blur a little, the image of Caleb in front of them going fuzzy.

“We take it one step at a time, Luke,” Reggie squeezes his hand tighter, tugging him back half a step.

“And we do it together, remember? A blood oath with tomato juice, Luke. We’re stuck together,” the hand Alex had had gripping his shirt loosens just enough to to circle around his bicep and he manages to tug him back another step.

“We can’t get through this if we don’t have you Luke. You don’t need to make the sacrifice play. There’s always another way,” Julie’s crying too, he notices belatedly as her tears drip on to the hand she is holding, his knuckles pressing against her lips.

“Come on man. Let’s go home.”

Luke holds steady for a second longer, eyes focused on Caleb's face before he gives in, letting the three of them pull him back from a line he can’t uncross.

But he’d do it.

He’d do it in one of his non-existent heart beats if it meant they’d be safe. He’s always jumped into a fight without a second thought. And for Reggie and Alex and Julie? He’d do it in even less. If they’d let him.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #trevor wilson #jatp #should i tag this with something else??? idk man enjoy i guess #rosie vs writing #*#Alex Mercer #Reggie Peters #*fics

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