Status: Complete~

Hands Are Meant to Hold

Chapter Twenty-Eight

In the past three days, Dahvie has eaten four crackers, a half of an apple, and about four chips (just so Kol would feel better). If he didn't skip breakfast altogether, he would just have some black coffee, which was disgusting without coffee creamer, but creamer had too much sugar and carbs, and he couldn't allow that. And he couldn't have too much coffee, either, because he read somewhere that it can make you fat. Well, gain weight was a better way to put it. He was already fat. He never took off his shirt while he was looking at his progress, but instead pulled his shirt tight and held it there while he turned in the mirror and saw from all angles. It was never good.

His goal had started out to be the same weight he was when he was eighteen, and to do it by natural ways, like exercise and healthy food. The freshman 15 never hit him (karma), so he had maintained a healthy weight throughout college. He even found some of the jeans he used to have and spent at least ten minutes trying to get them to fit, and even after he managed to get the button together without popping, it was only a matter of a few bites of food before they burst. That was just more motivation, though. But when the button did pop right in front of Lindsey, who laughed for hours and held it over his head, he decided that would be the first time he punished himself by not eating all day.

That proved to be more effective than any other way.

After the first month of this habit, he'd lost about ten pounds, and it made no difference. Jeffree said that he looked great after that month and that he should stop there; he must have been patronizing him. Because ten pounds or not, his belly hung over too far, and his thighs spilled over the dining room chairs. Lindsey always says so. It didn't hang out at all when they first met, but then he just had to find goddamn comfort in eating. It started out as him eating what she left on her plate to not have to deal with leftovers, and then he found that his brain kept telling him to get more and more. Now it told him to get nothing at all, and he kept it like that.

Now it had been nearly five months. No one was telling him that he looked great anymore. In fact, the people who were the closest to him wanted him to go and see a doctor, which he brushed off and ignored. The only thing that hung over his jeans now were his hip bones and ribs, if he sat down. Kol would mention that he wasn't cuddly or warm like he used to be, and he always dreaded the good night hugs because it made him worry when Dahvie's hands were always shaking, and he always looked sickly with oddly-colored, pale skin.

His hair was thinning, too, which he blamed on hair dye, and he would admit that he got freaked out when he was running his hand through his hair once, and a large clump was in his hand when he brought it back down. He stared at the bundle of purple and black like he was reading the worst news he ever heard being delivered through a text message. But it didn't stop him. No weight was ever good enough for him, nothing was comfortable.

"Daddy, what are you making for dinner?" Kol asked.

"I don't know. What do you want?"

"What do
you want?"

Dahvie threw his head back. "I don't want anything, Kol."

Kol lost his sneaky grin and pouted at him with sad eyes. "But I want you to eat. Everyone does."

"Not everyone," he mumbled back.

"Well, I'm scared." The pout and sad eyes weren't for show or persuasion anymore, and the feelings became real.

Dahvie reached out a weak hand to run over Kol's cheek. "Why are you scared?"

He gestured at him, as if it were obvious. "You look sick, and it's not good for you."

"No, Kol. See, being too big is not good for you. I was too big. Being big can kill you. I'm skinny now, and I feel fine." Kol just stared, as if his eyes were telling Dahvie that he didn't look fine, and he looked fine before. Happier, brighter, more vibrant. "I'll go make you something, okay?"

Even though Kol said nothing, Dahvie got up to go to the kitchen and made it to the back of the couch before he had to clutch onto the back with both hands, breathing hard while his knees quivered and swayed.

"Are you okay?" Kol asked, frantically.

"Yeah," he breathed out, still holding with white knuckles like his life depended on it. "I just stood up too fast. You know that tunnel vision you get when that happens? That's what I'm having." Dahvie knew that tunnel vision when you stand up too fast should only last a few seconds, but Kol didn't.

Kol started to walk away. "I'm going to get Lindsey," he said quietly, almost like he knew what was going to happen. There was something wrong with Daddy. He kept moving his head like he couldn't feel it moving—or anything else, for that matter—and his eyes kept shutting then quickly opening again. He obviously didn't know what was going on around him at all.

The blackness that had been swelling in his peripheral vision finally took over his entire eyesight, and he fell, straight on his back, hard. It was quick and sudden, and that's when he got taken to the hospital. The last thing he could remember, and the last thing he heard before he hit the ground, was Kol screaming, "Daddy!" in a high-pitched squeak.

The memory came flooding back to Kol when he heard the news. Once he was identified, they went through his phone and found Haley, who called Lindsey, who told Kol. She said it so casually, too. Like it wasn't a big deal at all. It was like, "The weather is pretty cold; I just put all the laundry in the washer; the sun is setting; oh, and Dahvie's in a coma." Kol had taken the picture of them out of its frame and was about to tear it when he heard. He stopped immediately, leaving only a tiny tear at the top, almost touching them, and even that made him feel bad.

His plans were to rip the picture into shreds, throw it away, and then take his jacket and put it in the trash. It made his chest feel hollow and fluttery when he thought of doing that now. This wasn't like when he was dehydrated and fainted, where he got better with bed rest and fluids, this was something that could cause him to have permanent damage. To his head. Amnesia, brain damage, seizures. The list went on. Lindsey always said that Dahvie would forget him, and now he might.

While Haley was still on her way, Kol had kicked and screamed until Lindsey finally took him, much to her dismay, as she thought he was over thinking of him as his father. It never lasted long, his hatred towards Dahvie, though it would have been longer this time had it not have been for this, Kol hated to admit. But as soon as he heard what happened, he went straight back to crying for his daddy.

He crashed at around two, and Kol learned the news around six. Last time, he woke up soon, and only had to stay the night because of the dehydration. They don't let children stay the night, and Kol didn't want to go home without him again. It didn't matter the situation. Kol just couldn't do it again. And neither could Dahvie, obviously.

"Is he going to die?" Kol asked nervously. He shouldn't ask her, but there was no one else.

"I'm going to be honest, Kol: Yeah, he could. They don't know if he's okay or not yet. He hit his head. That's not usually a good thing." She sounded worried herself, sympathetic, almost. He wouldn't be surprised if she felt just as guilty as he did. Even more so, probably. Kol was mean to him for a day. Lindsey was mean to him for years.

Kol pulled Dahvie's jacket tight around him. Instead of wearing his own jacket in the cold, he took that one. It was warm and felt better than one of his in this situation. He was too scared to cry. Something told him that he should, and that was the thing he normally would have done, but he couldn't. Instead, he was overwhelmed by fear and shock. How could this have happened to him? Daddy was kind and genuinely a good person, and he didn't deserve this. How could this happen when he has people who love him, and would die without him?

"I don't want him to die. This will be my fault if he does." He was just saying whatever came to his mind.

Lindsey was silent. She had never had to be the one to comfort him. He needed it right now, and the only person who could do it correctly was the reason he needed it. "Well, I guess it's kind of my fault more than yours. He wouldn't have had to come here if I didn't . . ."

"But we both made him leave. The ice was gone in just hours after he crashed." He pulled in his knees and hugged them to his chest. "I love Daddy. I acted like I hated him. Do you think he knows that I love him?" He couldn't have him die thinking he hated him. Kol wanted him to see that he was in his jacket, making his way to him, and be the one to make him feel better for once instead of it being vice-versa, because he really, truly loved him.

"Yeah. He knows." Kol had never heard her sound so unsure of herself and uncomfortable. She cleared her throat and changed the subject, not only to alleviate the awkwardness, but to get his mind on something else. "How's your eye?"

He'd forgotten about his eye, which was still purple and blue. There were other bruises, too, but the eye was the worst. Travis finally snapped and beat Kol. He had been in his room, pouting, and wouldn't come downstairs. Many attempts were made by family members, but Kol would only respond with hateful words. Then he and Travis got into an argument after everyone left, and he hit him. Over and over again. Lindsey went ahead and threw Travis out, too. He'd pushed her a few times, as well, and hit her once when he was drunk. She was done with him.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Kol said, pausing, carefully considering his next few words. "Since Travis couldn't have a baby, that means you still can, right?"

"Right . . ."

"So can I go back to my daddy, if he—if he lives?" Those were hard words to say. These shouldn't be circumstances that had to be considered. Daddy could die. Kol's worst fear, brought to life. Or taken from life.

If she did that, she would be alone. Completely alone. Then, a thought came to her mind that she never thought would ever come to surface: she should have never given Dahvie up.

"I guess so. If he lives." That must have been the guilt talking and making all the decisions. She didn't even know what she was saying anymore.

"Thank you," he said quietly. That wasn't how he expected it to go. Daddy wasn't supposed to be on the brink of life or death when it happened; he was supposed to be there with Kol, and they would be happy and hugging each other and driving home with smiles. This sounded more like someone asking someone else to pass the salt across the table.

"You know that it's expensive and takes a while, and he kind of has to be awake to do it, right? But knowing him, he'd rob the President to get that money. He'll probably be the one who discovers the secret to immortality because he'll be too damn stubborn to die."

Kol pulled at one of the loose strings on the jacket. He was going to smile and reply, but then it hit him that he may never get to be with him after all. Then he started crying again, but at least he wasn't too numb to not cry anymore.

"Daddy!" he choked out through sobs to a man, two miles away, who couldn't hear him even if he were there.

When there were bad hurricanes back when he was with him, they didn't have a basement, and they would be in a hallway with no windows or anything harmful, but Kol still did not do well with storms of any kind, and it didn't actually help that Dahvie always went into panic-mode. Dahvie always liked thunder and rain, but the second tornadoes or hurricanes were mentioned, his heart sank. All his mind would be is, Mysonmysonmysonmyson, I need to keep my son safe. He would sit holding Kol as close as possible, ready to protect him at all costs—ready to die for him, really, but Kol never knew what extent he was willing to go to because it would make him nervous—and he whispered little prayers that calmed them both down. Usually they were the kind of prayers that they tell in church that Kol didn't fully understand all of the words of, but it helped him.

Except Kol's mind was too frantic to remember any right now, so he settled with repeating, "Don't let him die," over and over again.

"We're almost there. Just a few more minutes," Lindsey would say, and they would not be there in a few minutes. He hadn't gotten very far before he crashed, so surely he should be near.

"Well, I want him right now. We've been driving for hours."

"Twenty minutes, actually."

"That's still too long."

Then, in the distance, Kol could see a labyrinth of massive buildings and parking lots with a huge sign with some words and a red plus on it. Kol looked up and at it, and his nerves spiked. He realized that he didn't actually want to see him like that. He could be bloody or mangled or hooked up to machines. The car had been totaled after being hit in the side and then crashing into a guard rail. Whoever hit him was fine, which made Kol resent them. They didn't even need medical attention. Kol wished he could meet that person. He wished they could see Daddy.

When Kol didn't get out of the car after Lindsey did, she looked at him, surprised that he hadn't moved when he'd been so anxious and impatient to get there. "Are you coming? I don't think he looks that bad. He just has some stitches and some marks."

He hesitated, deciding if he really wanted this or not. She had already said that he could be with him if he lived, which he will do. He has to.

Kol slowly undid his seat belt and got out. They walked into the well-decorated lobby after a silent five-minute walk from the parking lot to the main building. Dahvie always told Kol how much he hated hospital lobbies. Because there's this nice, luxurious atmosphere when you walk in, and then you turn your head and see someone practically dying and no one doing a thing.

While Lindsey was talking to the person working at the front desk, Kol took a seat in one of the floral chairs that looked inviting and soft appearance-wise, but was actually harder than a wooden chair and twice as uncomfortable. Sick people were all around him, and maybe he should have been taking better precautions, but he didn't care right then. All his mind was worried about was whether they'd let them back there or not, like last time. But they looked to be getting along, Lindsey and the woman at the desk. Last time it was a horrible old woman who threatened to call security on Kol three times and mumbled something about "those damn anorexics" under her breath about Dahvie, when Kol just wanted to see him.

Lindsey actually tried to avoid all of the sick people, not caring if they knew what she was doing. She walked up to Kol. "Come on. I got his room number. And you only have about an hour before they make us leave, so we need to go fast."

Kol stopped hesitating and walked as fast as he could, sometimes ahead of Lindsey, but then he remembered that she was the one with the directions, so he kept telling her to go faster when he thought he was going to get ahead again. He even went in an elevator to get to the correct floor, and he hated elevators.

Davie's room was a quiet room at the end of one of the endless hallways that Kol ran down, getting disapproving looks directed at him and Lindsey. But he stopped at the door. Lindsey finally caught up with him and glanced between him and the doorknob.

"Well?" she asked.

"You open it," Kol said.

She didn't understand him. She never would. But she did it anyway, and Kol began walking slowly again, into the alarmingly quiet and dark room. From this view, he looked like he was sleeping. Kol liked it like that. He could see his hair, disheveled and sticking up in random places, and the outline of his nose and jaw and chin. He looked peaceful, just as he would when Kol snuck in his room in the middle of the night after a bad dream, while he was still asleep and unaware of Kol.

But then he had to turn on the lights and ruin it.

Dahvie certainly looked the part of a car accident victim. Stitches were in a small vertical line near his right temple, just like Lindsey had warned, but he also had cuts on his lower lip and cheekbone, bruises everywhere on him, including an obvious broken nose where the bruises lined across underneath his eyes and nose, and it looked like there was a huge gash on his neck. Glass. The windshield. It cut him.

Dried blood was up near his hairline where the stitches were, and Kol honestly just wanted to clean it off. Kol wondered how much he bled. It must have been pretty bad for him to get stitched up, but the other cuts were a factor that could bleed, too. He didn't want to think about him covered in blood, though; it just happened, like his own personal hell for being mean to him.

Kol squeaked when the lights came on. A tiny, shocked squeak that proved that he should have stayed home. The only movement he could do was holding his hands to his mouth, as he was frozen in his place at first, but eventually forced his feet to move forward. The walk to the bed seemed to get further away with every step forward he took, but he finally got there.

Daddy looked even worse up close. The cuts were more noticeable and deeper, and Kol could make out more bruises than he thought were there. Kol reached for his hand to hold, but quickly dropped it and stepped back, holding his own hand close to his chest like he got burned on something. He shook his head and had his eyes open as wide as they could go, breathing heavily.

"What is it? Why aren't you holding his hand?" Lindsey said, the first full sentences she said after a quiet "fuck" when the lights came on.

"I don't want to hold his hand. It's cold." He didn't explain beyond that, but she understood. Dead people have cold hands.

"I guess I can . . . warm it up for you," she said, walking over. Although confused, Kol stepped aside, letting her pull over another one of those deceiving chairs and sitting beside his bed. She took his hand in hers, awkwardly, of course, and only hovered hers over it, basically. It just felt weird to hold his left hand with her left hand, with both of their rings touching. Lindsey still hadn't taken hers off yet, and she knew that she could just use her right hand, but she didn't. Instead, she used her right hand to move some of his hair, only revealing another cut. "He really is beautiful, isn't he?"

Kol stared at her. Surely she wasn't serious. She hated him. She called him ugly more times than he could count. It had to be sarcasm.

"You're about to say something mean, aren't you?"

"No. People in comas can hear, you know? He's just pretty."

He immediately went and held onto his wrist, as if telling her to let go of him. Kol didn't trust her, no matter how nice she tried to be. She did move, though, and instead of sitting in the chair, he laid down next to him and closed his eyes for a second, to forget about where he was, to forget about what Daddy looked like right now, and to just forget what happened a few hours ago. Some Christmas it turned out to be, both of them hurt and destroyed.

Dahvie was too cold, Kol decided, and he didn't like it. He felt dead. The word just kept entering his mind in all forms: death, dying, died, dead, die. He moved his head to his chest and just listened. His heartbeat calmed him down, like it used to when he was younger, but more now. He was alive. That's all that mattered.

"Daddy?" he whispered. "Can you hear me? I hope so. I just wanted to tell you that I love you, and I'm sorry. Please don't hate me for it, because she's going to let you have me. We can go home." His voice broke, and he bundled up some of the blanket that was on Dahvie in his hand. "You still want me, don't you? You hate me, or you would wake up, since you can hear me. Do you want me to leave? Squeeze my hand or something if you do."

Dahvie was having a weird dream. He couldn't see anything, but he could hear and feel. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was—oh, shit. He didn't fall asleep. People always said that they could hear the people around them in a coma, and now he must have been in the hospital, and Kol was there, and Lindsey . . . What the fuck, Lindsey? That part must have been a dream. Do people dream in a coma? They must. It was confirmed by that. Maybe it was Haley, and he was just hearing wrong.

Kol was now curled up with him, crying and worrying. Poor baby. Dahvie didn't want him to leave. In fact, he even tried his hardest to wake up right then and there, but he couldn't. At least he didn't see a bright light or anything. He was not dying with his son in his arms. He wasn't dying at all. He would fight God if he had to. But he recently lost his faith, anyway. Dahvie prayed for Kol to be his son so long ago, he prayed they wouldn't take him away, he prayed to get him back. And nothing happened. Kol was praying, though. Whispering it to him, like he did for him during the hurricanes.

"I've been praying that you wouldn't die, Daddy. I know that you would be an angel, but I wouldn't have you. That's selfish, but need you. More than you need me."

That wasn't true. Someone please tell him that it wasn't true. God damn it, he needed to wake up now and tell that child how much he meant to him. If it weren't for him, he'd probably have died a long time ago due to his eating disorder. He didn't want to die, either, leaving Kol all alone.

"I wish they would let me stay. It's been so long since I've slept next to you, and I won't sleep tonight anyway. I have to leave soon. Is that okay? I know you don't like being alone. Haley's on her way, though. It just takes a while. And I'll come back tomorrow, too."

Bless his heart, he was mimicking him. He wanted to hug him and hold him forever, but he couldn't feel his own body, only other peoples'. It felt so strange.

"Haley loves you, I love you, Grandma and Grandpa love you, Jayy love you, Jeffree loves you, Aunt Sasha loves you. We all love you, and we want you to wake up. I miss your smile and your voice already. I just want you to be able to say something to me. I would even listen to you yell at me for being mean or not cleaning my room or not eating my dinner."

He was trying. It was like reaching for something in the dark that wasn't even there. Even with Kol wrapping his arms around him tightly to comfort him, he was hurting everywhere, excruciatingly so.

"I love you," he repeated for the last time. "Wake up. Please." Then he just laid there, eyes closed like before. If he focused hard enough, he could disregard the hospital smell and the uncomfortable bed, and he could drown out the sounds of the bustling hallway outside that constantly had doctors and nurses rushing down it, pushing a patient in a stretcher or making their way to another room. This is how he remained for about fifteen minutes, silent, until a nurse came in.

"Visiting hours are over," she said.

"But I want to stay with my Daddy."

"You can't. Didn't your mother explain this to you, or are you one of the slower, more stubborn ones?"

Bitch. Dahvie didn't like her tone of voice. It was condescending, like she knew that Kol didn't know that she just called him dumb, and that made her feel better. Lindsey, please slap her, you'd be the one to do it.

She was sitting on the edge of her chair with her hands on her temples. She'd had quite enough of bitching today, thank you. "I'll tell you who's fucking slow. It's the one who thinks that a four-year-old whose father is in a coma on Christmas, for God's sake, would be ready to leave after being here for an hour."

Lindsey pulled Kol away and took him out of the room. Dahvie was impressed, but he wished she hadn't done that to Kol. He knew that he was clawing at him to stay there.

"Why did you leave her alone with him? She might kill him," Kol said as they were walking away quickly.

"Oh, please, she's not important. All she's going to do is check his temperature and pulse and stuff. She couldn't kill him and get away with it. Besides, Haley will be here as soon as they let her back there, and she can sit with him for a while. He'll only be alone for a few hours. Comas only last for a few days."

A few days turned into a month. A whole new onar, the year Kol started school, the year Haley and Dahvie were supposed to get married. But he still wasn't awake. The doctors were beginning to lose faith, Kol could tell these things.

Visitors were flying in and out of his room, whether they were immediate family from North Carolina or coworkers and friends from Orlando. Kol, Haley, and Lindsey were there the most. Kol really loved having Haley there. She held him and kissed him and told him that Daddy would be okay, to help his hope a little, and Lindsey even let him call her Mommy. She'd asked several times if he wanted her to go ahead and get guardianship, but Kol said that Daddy needed to be there when it happened.

Even though Kol smiled a lot now that he had a lot of family comforting him and giving him little gifts, he was also crying quite a bit, especially at night when he was back in his warm bed while Daddy was uncomfortable and lonely in a hospital bed that he couldn't adjust himself. But they were hopeful that he would recover, no matter what the doctors say. Haley even let Kol pick the outfit he'd get to wear when he woke up. He picked the comfiest, softest outfit he had, just so he would feel better learning how to walk again and such.

Two months. Kol was growing restless along with everyone else. Haley liked to brush his hair and put his makeup on him, while Kol liked to play music for him through earbuds, one of the gifts he got to keep him smiling. He knew what to play. Daddy had tons of music on his phone, and Kol knew which songs were his favorites. Then when he wasn't playing music, he was telling him about his day, as he would any other day.

Lindsey accidentally felt something on Daddy's stomach one day, and she found these little marks all over him, and she asked if they were from the car accident in a really shaky voice. Haley whispered "no" as quietly as possible, trying to not let Kol hear, but he did. He wondered where they were from and why he wasn't supposed to know about them, but whenever he brought it up, someone would change the subject and act like he said nothing.

Three months. They got the call at around three in the morning that he had opened his eyes and was going in and out of consciousness. He was fighting, finally. Haley said that she cried as soon as the phone rang because no one gets good news from calls that early, but she cried even harder when she got the news, only it was happy tears. Kol had a few jubilant tears, as well, and didn't go back to sleep after the call. He was fully conscious by eight a.m. and responsive by nine.

Haley was the first to show up, as she had been waiting in the lobby for hours. She kissed him before saying anything to him and handed him his clothes.

"How do you feel?" she asked softly.

"I'm alright. I just look like hell."

"Well, a lot of the bruises and scars are gone, and they fixed your broken nose. You look beautiful. You always look beautiful."

He smiled and leaned back against the bed after he was dressed in his favorite outfit that was so comfortable and raised the bed up a little using the little control pad he'd been playing with. "How my baby? Does he know?"

"Yeah. He'll be here soon. He's been here a lot. Talks to you, plays music for you."

He pulled in his eyebrows together. "He wouldn't have happened to be playing the entire Sing the Sorrow album, by any chance, would he?"

She smiled. "That would be him."

"Wow. Thought I was dreaming. Did Lindsey really say that I could have him? It felt so real when he said it. Like, I could feel him holding my hand and everything. That couldn't have been a dream."

"She really said it. Hopefully we can get him before the wedding."

"Speaking of which, I still want to do it in May. I don't want to make you wait because of me. You've done enough of that."

As Haley hugged him, she saw Kol walk in nervously, just barely standing completely in the doorway. He was nervous to see him, afraid that he would be angry at him for what he did. After the incident with Travis, he had been careful not to make anyone want to hurt him. The black eye was gone, thankfully, because Dahvie would have killed Travis. Literally.

Haley tapped his shoulder. "Look, you have a visitor," she said.

He turned and smiled at him, inviting him to come over. Kol was biting his thumbnail and slowly making his way over there, as if it were that first night all over again. Once he made the first few steps, he began running. It was a short distance, but he had been waiting for so long.

Kol collapsed onto him and let Dahvie hold him back, focusing on his warm hands that were moving and alive.

"I love you, Daddy. I am so sorry. This is my fault."

"Shh. No, baby. This was a good thing. It happened for a reason. I got you back, and that's what I care about. Maybe it was all that praying, huh? I heard every word you said to me, by the way. I get you back," he repeated like he couldn't believe it. Really, he couldn't believe it. He let go, to go to Lindsey, who was leaning against the door awkwardly. "Thank you."

Without saying anything, she hugged him, so quickly that he didn't have time to hug back and left the room.

"Well, that was a miracle." repeated and went back to Kol.

"She loves you. I didn't include her when I was saying all those people who loved you, but she does."

He picked Kol up and rested him at his hip. "She loves you, too, or she wouldn't be letting me take you."

"So, after you get me, are we going home?"

"Yeah. We are."
♠ ♠ ♠
Ten months ago, I was a newbie to Mibba who had a couple of unorganized ideas that couldn't really be made into long stories. But I published it anyway. I didn't know that this would turn out this way. Honestly, I even changed the ending last minute, as it was originally supposed to be Kol involved in the accident, but it would just go smoother like this. Never did I think that this would be my first finished story that wasn't a one-shot, either. With so many stories I've put on hold, I think it was worth it, because I loved writing this story. I've lost sleep because of it, I've dealt with writer's block with it. Hell, I thought about what I would do for the next chapter while I was supposed to be doing my schoolwork. And it's over now, and I feel accomplished. Thank you all. I wouldn't have kept updating had it not been for your support. Each and every comment brings smile to my face. Thank you are words I cannot say enough. Also, wow, this is a long-ass note and chapter. I'm sorry if it takes you eighteen years to read.

So, on that note, remember, it's not a story. It's an idea. (So sorry, MCR fandom.)