The Chronicles of James Pete Smith and Alysia Urie-Ross

November 7th, 2020

Jimmy arrived some fifteen minutes before he was supposed to and rang the doorbell. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, waiting for Ally or one of her dads to get the door. His guitar, in its beat-up old case, was slung over his back. He tapped a pick against his thigh, humming some song that Ally had probably gotten stuck in his head. It wasn't that bad, admittedly. Catchy, at the very least. Now, if he could only remember--or understand--the lyrics.
Ally jumped a bit when the doorbell chime rang, the familiar notes of Behind The Sea sounding. She hopped off of the leather couch and sprinted for the door. "Early bird catches the worm?" she asked as she opened it, and her face looked a mixture of irritated and amused. But with her, you could never tell.

Jimmy grinned his grin. "I was bored. Besides, someone's gonna have to lecture you on how to properly hold a guitar before you attempt to play." He snickered. "You think your dad will let you use one of his?"

"Maybe. One of his older ones, anyways." She nodded. "But what makes you think I can't hold a guitar properly?" She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'll just go tell daddy you're here now." she pranced off towards the kitchen and stuck her head in the doorway, signaling Jimmy over after a few minutes of talking.
Jimmy followed, making sure to shut the door behind him. He'd never walked through their house with his guitar--it took some maneuvering so that neither his baby nor the walls got damaged.

Ally sat at the table and put her head down. "I'm really tired," she groaned, picking at the tablecloth on the table. "Daddy, what makes you think this looks good?" Brendon turned away from the stove and glared at her, and she laughed nervously. "It looks really good!" That earned her a smile. She glanced at Jimmy and held her hand out. "Here, let me take your precious darling so you can sit down and stop waddling around like an awkward penguin."

"Hey! She has a name, you know!" Jimmy protested. However, he did as Ally instructed him. His guitar rested on his foot for a minute, and he seemed entirely too reluctant to pass it over to his friend. "Be careful with her?"

She gave him a look. "Yeah, I will." She picked it up, got up, and strode off to put it up in the room with all of the instruments. When she came back, she was smiling. "Well, your darling made it safely to her destination."

He shot Ally a deathglare. "I'd certainly hope so."

She smiled wider. "You don't scare me. Not yet."

Jimmy frowned. "Dammit." But he couldn't help it, he grinned and laughed.

She giggled a bit, herself. "I can scare you, I bet." She smirked.

"No, you can't," he challenged.

"Oh, really now?"

Jimmy just rolled his eyes. "And come on, don't you wanna learn guitar from me?"

"Yeah, I do." she pouted a bit at him. "Why?"

"If you scare me, I might not come back." A victorious grin and a half-raised eyebrow.

"Oh, fuck you." She stuck her tongue out at him. "That means no piano, then!"

"Et tu ne vas pas apprendre francais," Jimmy retorted.

"Something about French that I don't understand," she said in monotone. "Fine, I won't. Not now." A smirk. "What's your little darling's name, anyways?"

He shrugged. "Audrey Gold."

"That's a cool name. For a guitar and all," she said, right before chimes went off again. This time it was in tune with Camisado. Ally jumped up to answer it, signaling for Jimmy to follow her. She opened the door slowly and grinned at her uncles.

"Your dads are crazy about those programmable doorbells--" Jimmy started to remark, being cut off by the door opening.
His jaw dropped. "Motherfucking Fall Out Boy."

Patrick and Pete exchanged a look, and then just gaped at Jimmy in awe. Patrick's jaw was hanging open. "You...you're..." Ally took a step out of the way and grinned.

"A-ally...?" Jimmy stuttered, confused but unable to keep his eyes off of--his eyes off--

"Yeah, told you I wasn't bullshitting you." she was beaming. It wasn't long before the three of them were in a tearful hug. Patrick had started it, of course. And when Ally passed Pete to go back to the kitchen, she pulled on his sleeve and whispered, "He's okay."

Jimmy was actually crying--and that wasn't something that happened often for him, not while he was conscious, anyway. "Dad... n' dad..." he whispered.

Pete was sobbing into his son's shoulder. "You...are okay," he managed to choke out, hugging him tighter.

"Y-yeah. I am."

"You're real."

Jimmy just kind of nodded, unable to do much else. "How could I ever forget?" he asked, softly. He rested his head where his fathers' shoulders met.

They both held him tighter. "We...thought you were dead," Patrick whispered.

"Why?" Jimmy was barely audible, as if somehow he'd lost his voice.

"Donna told us." Pete was having trouble speaking, too.

"When? Why?" Those weren't even a fraction of the questions he wanted to ask. But they would have to do.

"It was years ago. She called and told me that you had died in a car crash," Patrick murmured, looking at his son. "Why...did she do that?"

Jimmy's eyes widened. "Th-there was a crash." He nodded. "I-I was six, or something."
"I was in a coma for a year and a half after that." He kept nodding. "That's what they told me, anyway. I woke up and I didn't remember a lot of things."

"But you still made it." Pete was shaking. "You still fucking made it."

"'m still alive." Jimmy grinned.

In the kitchen, Ryan wrapped an arm around Brendon's waist and smiled. "I'm glad this happened," he whispered, kissing Brendon on the cheek.

Brendon smiled back. "I am too. I'm just glad that everyone can be happy again."

"You think the Smiths will fight to keep him?"

"I really hope not. They didn't care that much for him, anyways, from what I understand."

"He doesn't act like they do." Ryan shrugged. "Makes you wonder why they said he was dead."

"Yeah. It angers me." He frowned. "I don't know why they would do that if they didn't really like him."

"Selfishness?"

"I guess. I don't know, though. They seemed like good people to start with."

"Someone they could trust..."

"But they turned out all wrong." He shook his head. "Jimmy never did anything to deserve this."

Jimmy felt happier than he had in a long time. He was so happy that he was crying, for the sake of god. After nine years of alienation, things were starting to work out for him. He had friends (well, a friend, and she was sort of his cousin). At long last, he'd met his real parents--as unconventional as they were--and they still accepted him. They still wanted him. And that was an incredibly good feeling for him. To be wanted. That was something he thought he'd never felt in his life. It was new, and beautiful. And standing there, with his dads, and all of them crying and promising never to let go--that felt like home. Not like his house ever did. Not like the room he woke up in did. That was his home. He'd never liked being Jimmy Smith, anyway.
Maybe Ally was right. Maybe life was better on the so-called "emo" side.