armanya

Soooo... new story! Yay? I feel like I have to stress what the warning says... this story is gonna be quite rough, it will have suicidal themes and touch on non-con situations, as well as drugs, violence and loots of good old angst. A lot of the bad stuff will be memories, some won't, but if you think any of that might bother you, then don't read. I don't want people to get upset reading my stories!

Title: The Ghost of You and Me
Chapter: 1/?
Author: Nikki (vagarical )
Fandom: Hanson
Genre: Hancest / AU
Pairing: Zaylor
Rating: NC-17 (Chapter Rating: R)
Warning: The story will deal with drugs, violence, abuse, non-con and suicidal themes (Chapter Warning: Drug and alcohol references)
POV: Zac
Word Count: 2150
Chapter Excerpt: I really wanted to just turn around and flee back to the safety of my own little apartment, to lock myself and my memories away like I had, semi-successfully, been doing for almost a year now. But I knew that I couldn’t keep hiding, I needed to see him, I hoped that he might be able to look me in the eyes and forgive me.

Story Summary: Five years after the band they had with their older brother plummeted from the height of fame amidst one of the biggest scandals in music history, Zac Hanson searches out his brother Taylor looking for forgiveness. When they meet again, they realize that despite what happened, they might still need each other… will they be able to shake their past and start a fresh, or will the ghosts haunt them forever?

I stopped outside the house, double checking the address that was scribbled on the now crumpled post-it. It was the right house, apparently, though nothing about its appearance supported this fact. The garden was unkempt, the house itself was a few years overdue a new paintjob, and some of the roof tiles were displaced. The whole place looked like it was just weathering a storm, as if it might fall apart at any moment, and the oncoming dusk was making it look quite eerie. My brother, although notorious for leaving his things and clothes strewn all over our shared bedroom, had always liked things nice and clean on the whole, and it seemed near impossible to me that he would be living in this rundown house.

Still, this address was the only trace of him that the ridiculously expensive private investigator had been able to find, and I couldn’t really justify driving from Tulsa to Detroit only to chicken out. But I really wanted to just turn around and flee back to the safety of my own little apartment, to lock myself and my memories away like I had, semi-successfully, been doing for almost a year now. But I knew that I couldn’t keep hiding, I needed to see him, I hoped that he might be able to look me in the eyes and forgive me. Of course, part of me still wanted more, still longed for him and the memories of everything we had been, but mostly I just needed his forgiveness.

I stuffed the note back in my left pocket and pulled the keys out of the ignition before I took a few deep breaths and got out of the car. As I locked the car and stood there looking at the house, I suddenly wished I would have brought a gift after all. I had decided against it because I couldn’t think of something appropriate, I didn’t even know what he liked anymore, but now I realized that I could have at the very least brought some donuts or something. He had to still like donuts, right?

I felt awkward as I made my way to the front door empty handed, resisting the urge to go back to the car so I could try and find somewhere that sold donuts, because I knew if I did I probably would end up driving all the way back home. I noticed my hand shaking as I pressed the doorbell, readying myself for disappointment. Though I wasn’t sure what would disappoint me more, if my brother did open the door, or if I was greeted by someone else entirely.

There were no signs of life inside the house, but I figured that judging by the appearance the doorbell was probably broken so I raised my shaking hand to knock instead. Panic surged through my body as I finally heard shuffling on the other side of the door. I just wanted to turn and flee, but it was too late now and as the door opened I froze and couldn’t have moved even if I tried.

I barely recognized him at first. The last images I had of him were some paparazzi photos from about 3 years ago, and even though his hair had almost grown back to its old length since then and his face was still as pretty as it had always been, he just didn’t look like himself at all. I knew he had had it rough, I wasn’t naïve enough to think all the gossip was just rumors and it had been clear from those paparazzi shots that there was truth to the tales of heavy partying, but he looked even worse now. His eyes were dull and lifeless as they met mine, widening in shock after a few moments as recognition settled on his face.

“Zac?” His voice was strained, and I noticed his hand gripping onto the doorframe as if he had to steady himself.

“Hey…” Suddenly I had no clue what to say. He looked so lost that all I wanted to do was pull him into my arms and cradle him like a child. But I resisted the urge because that would hardly be appropriate and I doubted he would appreciate it.

“Why? What are-?” he stuttered, his hand tightening on the doorframe so his knuckles turned white. His eyes left my face and he looked panicked as he narrowed them to peer out into the garden behind me, where darkness was closing in fast.

“I’m alone.” I reassured him, and he relaxed just a tiny bit again, though I could tell he was still on his guard. “Can I come in?”

He hesitated, his eyes meeting mine again, searching them, and I tried to smile at him. I realized that it had been stupid of me to expect to find forgiveness from him, it was obvious that he wasn’t the boy I had known, and I knew I wasn’t the boy I had been back then either, and most likely we barely even knew each other anymore. I could tell he didn’t really want me there though, so I was surprised when he eventually opened the door further to invite me in.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” he mumbled as I stepped past him.

I was about to reassure him that it was fine and that it really wasn’t that messy as he showed me to the living room, but when we entered it and there was a smell of stale cigarette smoke and alcohol in the air I decided to say nothing. I just stood there uncomfortably, trying not to watch him and act like the mess didn’t bother me as he turned on the lights then rushed to clear empty bottles and an ashtray off the table.

“Sit down. I’ll be right back.” He offered me a smile that wouldn’t have fooled an idiot and left with his armful of bottles and cans.

I sat down cautiously, eyeing the sofa first but finding that it was clean. I looked around the room, it was pretty basic, but my eyes came to rest on the piano on the opposite side of the room. I felt myself calm down a little, it was reassuring somehow to find something I could connect to the brother I remembered.

“I hope you still drink Dr Pepper.” His voice sounded a bit more cheerful, and he looked calmer when he reappeared, I assume from the kitchen. I noticed as I looked up at him that he had also brushed his hair, although it still looked unwashed and he hadn’t bothered to change out of the oversized hoodie that was frayed in the bottoms of the sleeves.

“I still love it,” I replied, doing my best to control my nerves and smile as he put one of the two cans down in front of me before sitting in the armchair to my left.

Silence closed in on us as we both opened and sipped our drinks. I wanted desperately to break it, but there was a lump in my throat and I didn’t even know what to say. My eyes swept across his face continuously and I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely watching something outside the window or just pretending to be because he was uncomfortable. I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I just could now believe that I was here, that he was so close to me again, and I realized that I had been very stupid and naïve to believe that I could ever have just left after accepting forgiveness that I had somehow been so sure he could give. Even if there had been no cause for worry, even if he had been ready to just tell me I was forgiven, there was no way I could have left him and been okay with maybe never seeing him again.

“You drove all the way here?”

His question took me by surprise, somewhere in my thoughts I had almost forgotten that he actually was right there beside me.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Wow. I would have just caught a plane, I never liked long drives.”

I felt my cheeks grow hot as our eyes met, and I shifted and took another sip of Dr Pepper to stall. How was I supposed to respond to that without bringing up potentially uncomfortable facts? I decided to just go with the truth, since I had never lied to or hidden things from him before and didn’t feel like starting now, and I had nothing to lose (but everything to gain) anyway.

“Er, me neither. But I didn’t want to buy a plane ticket.”

I didn’t elaborate with the fact that if I had it would have been easier for our parents or Isaac to track me down in case they guessed what I was up to, which I thought there was a good chance they would. I watched realization settle on his face, and I knew he understood the implications as he frowned and nodded.

“Ah. I see. How long are you staying?”

I smiled gratefully at him, happy that he had decided to steer the conversation away from that subject, though I was sure he did it because he had no desire to talk about it more than for my sake.

“Not sure.” I shrugged, wishing for a few seconds that I had lied and made up a number so it didn’t sound like I had just came to see him, but I doubted he would have been fooled anyway.

“Where are you staying?”

“Urm. I was just gonna find a hotel when I knew if you even lived here.” I couldn’t help the nervous chuckle, because truth was I hadn’t even given much thought to that. I really hadn’t planned my trip in any great detail, because I had finally worked up the courage to actually jump in my car and drive here, and I knew if I tried to plan ahead I would have ended up talking myself out of it like I had countless times before.

“Oh.” He fell silent for a while, and I noticed that he was leaning forward slightly now, towards me, and his eyes were intent on my face which for some reason made me slightly uncomfortable. I still looked back at him though, and watched as he bit his lip, looking as if he was unsure of what he was about to say next.

“Well, I have a spare room. If you want. It has its own bathroom. And I wouldn’t bother you in there of course. Er, only if you want to. Otherwise I can show you to a good hotel.”

He looked so nervous as he stuttered through the little ramble, but what really got to me was that he felt the need to reassure me that I would have privacy in the bedroom. It disgusted me that he could ever think I didn’t trust him in that respect, and it was even worse that it implied that he might think some of the things he had been accused of were actually true.

“I would love to stay here, if you’re sure you don’t mind.” I smiled, meeting his eyes in the hope that he would understand that I didn’t blame him for anything. I really wanted to just tell him, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it and I got the feeling that he wasn’t either, so I had to settle for trying to reassure him best I could without actually bringing it up.

“Of course not. Have you had dinner?”

When I told him no and consequently realized that I was really rather hungry now the nerves were starting to fade, he decided that we should order a pizza. Which I paid for when it arrived, even though he protested, but it made me feel better about not bringing a gift. He actually laughed when I told him that.

And he laughed more as we watched some comedy I can’t even remember the name of while we ate the pizza. And I found that his laugh still made me smile as I happily relaxed and got used to his presence, watching him do the same.

When he announced he needed sleep a few hours later, he looked at least a bit happier than he had when I first arrived. As I layed in bed I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of me. I certainly felt happier than I had in a long time just from having him close again.

Yes, we had both changed, but suddenly I felt excited about the prospect of getting to know each other again, of knowing everything about him, of just being together again. I knew if he was okay with it, I would happily stay for as long as he let me.