You do not have to read it if you don't want to

Epilogue

~Tony's POV~

Funny, wasn't it? A car accident had put me in this position, and a car accident would end it. I was an older man now, and it was a few days after Mike's birthday. I remembered everything. He died this very day thirty years ago. And it was my turn to join him. My first car crash had started the amnesia, pushing memories to the back of my sub conscious and pulling them back again. My second car crash had erased my memory, storing it in the very back of my mind. This one had let it free. I started crying silently, tears washing my weathered face. All those years I had lost with him. Nobody noticed my tears, and for that I was grateful. I looked out of my window. It was on the bottom level and I saw a young tattooed man presenting a girl with a white flower. It had gone a bit brown, but as I watched, it turned a pristine white. That happened all the time around me. Once white flowers turned brown almost instantly, but when I looked, they turned to a brilliant white. I think I knew who was doing it, too. He had never truly left me.

Stephanie was standing next to me, talking to a nurse. I loathed her. Her wispy grey hair was pulled up into a bun, and her daughter Marie was standing next to her, young Jason on her hip. Her wedding ring still twinkled happily on her finger. Mine was in the bin next to me.

'... yes, yes. It's his third car accident in his life. Very silly boy. Doesn't know to stop chasing parked cars.' She stroked my hand, and I winced. My heart moniter was beeping away contentedly. She and the nurse laughed. Marie sat down and started rocking Jason.

Five... four... three... two... one.

My heart moniter flat lined, and I had a smile on my face. I saw Marie leap up, screaming her head off, Stephanie was just staring out of the window, at the pure white rose, a smug look on her face.

I opened my eyes and got out of my old, wrinkly body. I looked down at myself - I looked exactly like I did thirty years ago. Maybe a teensy bit cuter. I looked out of the window and saw him standing by the rose. That pure white rose. I wish I had one. I felt a sharp thorn poke into my finger. A few drops of scarlet blood fell to the floor, before the wound healed. I looked up and saw his tattooed figure looking in my direction, mouth hanging open.

'My love,' I said, offering him the flower. He accepts it, and just stares at me.

'You aren't supposed to be dead. You had at least twenty more years.' He said. He looked at my so-called family. 'You're supposed to grow older and watch Jason grow up.'

I embrace him, happiness flooding through my veins at the chance to hold him again. But a tear slips down my face, 'You weren't meant to die either, Mike.' I trace his tattoo. It's still bleeding. 'Why don't you stop the bleeding?' I ask.

He shrugs. 'At first it was to remind myself that I could still feel. I wasn't emotionless. Then it was to signify that I would never stop hurting over losing my true love. I've become used to it now, though.' He absentmindedly flicks a few drops off before they drip onto his clothes.

'Don't worry about that now. I'm here. I'll never leave you again.' I let go of him and take his hand, entwining our fingers. 'Now, where to?' He smiles and places a kiss on my lips.

'I don't care. I'm with you, at long last.' The tattoo of my name on his chest stops bleeding, and swirls and leaves are added around it, tying in with his heart tattoo. I feel a similar tattoo making its way over my body, and we trace each others.

'Mike and Tony.' Mike murmurs. 'Together forever.' He smirks. 'Cliché, but I like it.'

'Excuse me? Tony and Mike.' I say, claiming his mouth before he can say anything else. I turn my back on Stephanie and her excuse of a happy family. I walk off with Mike, catching up on time I had lost.

Mike's POV

The bleeding had stopped a long time ago. At least twenty years. But I could still trace over the tattoo and feel the bumps of the dry blood. Twenty years of courtship. Tony and I had visited many places. Paris, the city of love, where we shared a romantic night under the stars at the top of the Eiffel Tower. We went to Venice in Italy a few days later, after wandering the city and sitting for hours at a cafe. We went to Venice, and took a free gondola ride. We got lost wandering the endless laneways.

But today was not romantic. Nor was it beautiful, or amazing in any way. This was the day my older brother died. I was sitting beside his bed, very similar to the day Tony died, with Jaime on my other side. He had had a heart attack. Vic was standing between Tony and I, trying to talk to Jaime. He didn't see us. Jaime was simply staring at Vic's body. He got up, and walked stiffly out of the door. He turned to Vic once more, and still no tears were shed, but he bit his lip and continued walking. Vic tried to scurry after him, a ghost in the shadows of sadness, but I held him back. He seemed surprised to see me.

'Mike?' He asked. 'What just happened? Why are you here? Why am I there?'

I cut him off before he could say anything else.

'Vic, you just died. This isn't a dream and I'm sorry to be so blunt. But it's the truth. I'm here because I knew you were going to die today, as much as I hate it. You're there because you left your physical body behind.' I said, staring into his eyes. He seemed to take it all in his stride.

'Jaime's going to be fine without you. You can follow him around though. You just can't talk to him.' I informed my older brother. Tony stayed silent. As Vic made a motion to leave, I stood up and gave him a hug. He then walked off.

'How do I know where Jaime is?' He asked, looking lost. I smiled. The answer was easy.

'Just look inside yourself. You'll feel a tug. It's called love. Close your eyes and think about Jaime. You'll be where he is in an instant.' I looked at Tony sitting beside me. We shared a smile and Vic thanked me.

'Wait, Vic, before you go, it was good to see you again. Even if you did die in front of us. We'll see you at your funeral? If not, when it's Jaime's turn.' Tony said. Vic disappeared and Tony and I stood up.

'Where to?' Asked Tony.

'You can choose.' I said. 'I chose last time.'

'What's the date?' Tony asked, wandering over to a calendar at the end of Vic's bed.

I shrugged. Beats me.

Tony smiles and takes my hand. 'I know where to go.' He says simply. I watch his eyes close. They're sparkling with joy, and we haven't gone anywhere yet. I entwine our fingers as he takes a deep breath, picturing our destination in his mind. I feel a whirring sensation pick up around us and I too close my eyes as the scenary around us changes.

'We're here.' Tony breathes, his eyes wide. 'We're here!' He shouts. I open my eyes and he's running around.

'Where is "here"?' I ask Tony, looking around me in wonder. The place seems familiar. There's crowds of young people running around in the dancing sun. People are wandering around slathering sunscreen on their tanned bodies and are holding water bottles. Bags bounce on their backs and Vans adorn almost everybody's feet.

'Warped.' Tony breathes. A girl of about twenty walks past us, trying to get into the venue. A boy of similar age accompanies her. The boy says something that I don't catch.

'Don't worry, Mitch.' The girl laughs. 'We'll get in.'

'Yeah right. Copeland said that we had to get here early.'

'My mum knows her stuff. She and grandad came here heaps.'

'So did mine.' Mitch retorts.

Suddenly, I see the resemblance. She looks just like someone else I know. Her grandfather, Kellin. And the young boy must be Kenadee's son. Named after his grandfather. Tony and I fly over the sea of people and start jumping from stage to stage to see who's playing. No one we recognise, obviously, but one band catches our eye as we fly past (literally).

'So there used to be this really cool band from about fifty years ago,' The lead starts. 'They're a main source of inspiration for us. They're called Pierce the Veil. This is one of their hits, King for a Day.' The band starts playing and Tony and I start cheering. We wander around the stage with them and the girl from before comes onstage and sings what used to be Kellin's part. I hover over the drummer and watch in awe as he makes the exact same moves I did so many years ago.

~ ~ ~

~Tony's POV because I'm getting confused about who it is so I'm going to swap~

I felt a pull deep inside me. Warning bells were going off in my head. I screamed in pain. This was the first I had encountered for twenty-five-odd years. When I was alive it was probably no more than a pinch, but my body had become accustomed to no abuse.

'What's wrong?' Mike seemed alarmed. We were another five years down the track. I could only think of one thing that would happen to make me feel like this.

'Grab my hand.' I whispered through clenched teeth. Mike did and started rubbing it.

'No. Close your eyes.'

'Why?'

'It's Jaime.' I screwed my eyes up and we evaporated out of the coffee shop we had been sitting in. Yes, we couldn't order a coffee or drink anything, but it was the atmosphere that had coaxed us inside. It was homely, and there was an open fire at the back. We couldn't feel the fire, but the memory of a fire burned in our minds and warmed our backs. It was snowing outside. But we left it all behind and came to a sudden stop in a bedroom.

The walls were covered in green peeling wallpaper. Light came only from the single lamp that balanced on the slanted bedside table. The covers of the bedsheets were also green. A lighter shade though.

'You're here.' My head turned at the voice. It wasn't Jaime because he wouldn't be able to see us. Yet. I saw Vic standing by Jaime's side, his transparent hand trying to stroke Jaime's wrinkled skin.

'I'm sorry.' Mike said. 'He isn't supposed to die. Not yet. At least another five years.' Mike embraced his older brother.

'I know, Mikey. I know.' He said, returning the hug. Jaime was sleeping his chest rising and falling. I could hear his heart. It's beat was slowing down, becoming a dull thud that came every few seconds. The last of the air whooshed out of his lungs and his body became slack. His head rolled to the side, and he appeared in front of us, looking fifty years younger.

'Vic?' Were his first words. 'You're...'

'I know and I'm so sorry. You were supposed to last at least five more years.' Vic said, pulling Jaime to him. 'I'm so sorry. I wanted you to die. So that I could hold you again.'

'Same.' Murmured Jaime.

~ ~ ~

We were back in the coffee shop. Vic and Jaime had accompanied us.

'So, how have you guys been? Since I died of course. I haven't exactly been following you.' I asked as I settled back into the seat. Mike wrapped his arm around my side and rested his head on my shoulder. I placed an arm around him, tracing the tattoos that I had spent hours upon hours of tracing without looking. I knew him like I knew the back of my own hand.

~Jaime's POV~

I'm dead and I'm talking to Vic, Mike and Tony. This is crazy. My head swirled with thoughts. We just left me there. And now we're in England. We were in America a few seconds ago!

'Jaime?' Tony asked.

'Sorry.' I apologised. 'What was the question again?'

Tony repeated it and I nodded my head.

'We didn't actually know when you died. I'm sorry but we... We left you alone. You gave up on Mike and we couldn't handle it. But Vic and I continued the band. Sort of. We toured for another two years after Mike's death. It was too much so we quit. I took up a job at Costco again while Vic pursued song writing. It was good, but all of his songs were too sad and depressing for him to actually be considered for writing anyone's songs.'

'I left song writing and just took up a boring old job in a bank. The owner was kind of weird. I half expected you three to come bursting in waving guns.' Vic smirked as he continued on with our life story. 'We saved up enough money and went for a world trip. We visited every single venue we had played at. Then I died and I followed Jaime.'

'We had very boring lives, as you can see.' I added, smiling.

'But now we have forever. And you.'

Notes

Title cred: Caraphernelia
I hope you enjoyed this because this is the last installment of this Perrentes story. [I may write another. Not sure yet] I love you all. You are wonderful readers. I just want to kiss you. I want to line you up from one end of Manhattan to the other and just go down the line and kiss every one of you.