Conversations you Have in Heaven

(A/N : Well, this probably didn;t need a part 2, but this came to me in the dead of night and I thought this had to be told too. Theres a bit more racier material in this than there was the first, but not too much. Up the rating to PG-13 and enjoy the ride...)


"If everyone cared and nobody cried..If everyone loved and nobody lied...If everyone shared and swallowed their pride...Then we'd see the day when nobody died."

- Nickleback



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He was dreaming. It was the only way to explain it. He hated the daylight. And he really didnt like grass too much. But here he was, sitting on it, the soft, lush pile of green patch tickled his feet. Which were bare. 'Odd' He thought. He didnt go without shoes that often either. He could smell the ocean. The wind kicked up a comforting breeze. He looked down, and realized he didnt own the jeans he was wearing either, nor the pink long sleeved shirt. Pink! What in the hell? A giggle disrupted his ruminations on what he was clad in, and he turned.

He noticed bare feet first. She didnt even leave footprints in the soft grass as she walked. Her black dress was so long, it covered the tops of her feet, and wouldve tripped her had she not been holding it in her pale hand. The arms went past her hands, and came up to cover her neck, but clung to her, a gauzy cover. Her thin frame was tall but graceful. Finally, they locked eyes. Sad and slightly worried glass colored eyes met his liquid brown ones, and she smiled, a tentative but sincere smile. Her long wheat colored hair fell to her waist, and she had a Nirvana T-shirt on. Around her neck, a silver chain with a V on it hung. He couldnt help but stare at her as the wind blew her hair around like a halo. Her voice was husky and deep as she finally spoke.

"Hello Jeordie."

"Am I dead?" He asked, seeing as this looked alot like heaven and she looked alot like an angel. Then, he never believed in heaven, and even if he did, he probably wouldnt end up there. Shame colored his featured for a fleeting moment, and she smiled again.

"No. You're not dead. Youre only dreaming. Look, I don't have much time, and neither do you. You must go to Brian."

"No...." He gasped, "I can't! This is settled...SETTLED!" He neared screamed.

The thought of even going near Brian scared him now. The man could hurt you with just a look, and he'd taken it for nearly twelve years. He'd just started to be able sleep at night without the horrible nightmares plauging him. The horrid flashbacks of nights where he could barely remember his own damn name, not that he had one that belonged to him then anyway. The life they had shared together disgusted him as much as he missed it, and he couldnt even dream of going back and looking in those eyes. One hazel and heated with a banked and restrained anger, and the other cold and dead as he figured Brians soul had become anyway. Some say he brought it upon himself, falling in love with him. Spending eleven years in a band, consuming so many drugs and so much alchohol he didnt even remember the tours, the excitment just a taste on his tounge that tasted now like the drip of coke and the taste of Jack Daniels.

It hadn't even been the drugs or the booze that had seperated them forever in the end. Dita. Hed watched it fall apart from the day hed started cheating on Rose with her. At first, it seemed that she was just arm candy, and that he could live with. He knew that in the end, Brian would come back home to him, in his home in the hills, and hold him as they slept. A softness in him then that he probably would die before admitting to and Jeordie would do almost anything to forget. Because it was those things he DID remember the most.

The sex was standard, that was easy to blend together. Then Brian would joke about "fags" and Jeordie would snicker to himself, that same man had had himself buried in Jeordies ass the night before, acting quite the fucking queen himself while he screamed in orgasm. He only screamed for his little doll. Then, he was rougher with Jeordie than any girl. He unleashed the full wave of his passion and yes, anger, on his bassist over the years with a depth that made him scared of himself. Brian never got ahold of his own bisexuality, and Jeordie had long learned to live with it. Thier deep friendship and flawless comeraderie had been enough, and he had resigned to accept it. He convinced himself it didn't matter, but if it didnt, then how come it hurt so much when he'd become engaged to Rose and he thought that it was all ending. Of course, Rose was different. She was secure in her hold over Brian, so she either gave her silent consent....or at least had the common decency to pretend to ignore it.

Love was a funny word. He never thought Brian was quite capable of the emotion, yet, at times, when he was holding Jeordie to him, or holding his hand during interviews (Under a table of course, wouldn't want the fans to see THAT), keeping his bassist near him at all times, even to the point of disrupting Jeordies life violently, the younger man always had a small suspicion that his "best friend" was really his "boyfriend."

The thought, as ridiculous as it had been then, was even more so now, and all the times they had shared together, the good AND the bad, had simply faded out like a failed television signal once Dita had began to make her demands. Brian, wrapped up in her, barely noticed that his relationship, as circumspect as it was, was falling apart. It had finally come to a head a few days after the "Tainted Love" video shoot. Dita had become aware of thier relationship early on, and done everything in her power to make it stop. She was disgusted by Jeordie in general then, even the cross-dressing he'd been doing for years bothered her. It wasn't as if he didnt know what the problem was. She wanted to be the only "girl" around, and he thought it was then hed started to hate her back.

Eventually, Brian had become cold and distant, and althought Jeordie could tell it was killing him to kill what they had shared, he was determined to. Not only for Ditas sake he knew, but for his own. He cut his hair and started wearing more and more suits. He rose himself above what he really was in life, and the only thing left that was tying him to the ground was his connection to Jeordie.

The fight had been brutal and left them both in tears. They'd snipped and sniped at each other for months, and it had built to an all out terror. They hadn't fucked in about a half a year, and thier emotions were frazzled and sizzled with earth shattering pain and anger. In the end, the crack had nearly killed them both. Jeordie knew HE was scarred. And somehow, he knew witout knowing that Brian hadn't come out unscathed either. It seemed that all the fun had gone out of what he was doing. All the control in the world hadn't kept the light from dying out just a little in his eyes, and only the sarcastic edge had stayed, the emotions snuffed out like a cigar.

He'd gone out and gotten married, just like a good little straight male. When Jeordie had gotten ahold of that Vouge magazine, he'd nearly laughed untill he cried. The snotty little affair would've been one they would've crashed for fun in the beginning or just flat out refused to give. They gave fun parties, with no rules and even less control. The sight of Brian all gussied up and somber at the head of some high end table made his shake his head. He didn't even know this version of Brian Warner. Fuck, he wasn't sure if Brian was even in there anymore. It seemed it was all about Marylin Manson, and so, after about a year of feeling sorry for himself and crying himself sick every night, he had finally bid his best friend and lover goodbye, as much in himself as in the world. So now....as he stood before this angel in his jeans and without any extensions or makeup on, he wondered why in the name of GOD she thought Brian would need him now.

"The divorce." She said, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Divorce?" He gasped.

"Yes. It's over. She left. And you knew it was coming." She said, her eyes cast heavenward, her black rimmed glasses glinting in the sun. She came close to him, close enough to smell her rain scent, and she put her cold hands to each side of his face, looking directly into his eyes. Thats when a tear ran down her cheek.

"He went out last night and bought a bad batch of what he thought was a new kind of coke. He nearly died Jeordie. He has noone that really knows him, none that could pull him back together. I know that that's not fair....noone said it was. But some things just ARE honey, and this is one of them." She turned away, sighing deeply.

"He's alive?"

"Yes. For now. But you must go to him. Hes in the emergency section of Saint Micheals hospital in Los Angeles. Room 15 B. You must go....please. I cannot....I can't stay. I wish I could. But if wishes were horses Jeordie..." She turned back, her hair falling over her shoulder, a sad and forsaken angel with a forlorn helplessness that showed in every corner of the glass colored irises.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" He wanted to say her name, but then he realized she'd not given it.

"What you always did.....let this end. You know the two of you weren't supposed to part. The whole thing has been wrong. Parts of the both of you missing. He NEEDS you. PLEASE....go..before it's too late and you never get the chance to put the wrong things right." She put her hand to her head, then to her mouth, her eyes showing her desperation.

"Who are you?" Jeordie asked.

"Does that really matter? GO....I can't do any more than I already have." She leaned close to him, her tearstained cheek brushing against his, and whispered in his ear.

"Don't let people suffer from his loss. Don't let him take himself away from those who need him. If you ever cared, you have to care now.If you've ever LOVED, you have to love now." She pulled back, and touched his hair, smiling.

Without so much as a goodbye, she tilted her head, and with her white, colorless hair blowing all around her, she faded away, the only trace of her the feeling of desperation and incredible sadness. The whole scene faded around him, and then he was falling. Falling.

Jeordie woke up with a start, the dream had affected him deeply. Sitting up in his hotel room, he realized that his cheek was still wet, and he could still smell the rain. A loud crack startled him, and he looked out the window, where a large electric storm had begun, and the the lights went out. He curiously wiped the wetness from his cheek. Tasting it, he found the liquid salty, the taste of a womans pain. Getting up, he walked to the window, and all he could see as he looked out of the panes of splattered glass were her eyes. Turning around, he began to pack things. She was right, it was time to fix things.

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He arrived at the hospital with mixed feelings. He walked into the room, whispering a name and looking into the eyes of someone he thought he'd never see again. The hazel caught dark brown, and the feelings he thought were buried came to the surface. Anger was the first, then heartbreak, then the crushing feeling of connection. It would never be over, he thought, and perhaps thats the way it should be. Smiling, he walked over to the bed, and held the cold hand of the one person in the entire world who could affect him in more ways than most people cared to admit even to themselves. Deep levels of joy and pain that only had come out in songs up untill that point.

Something had changed in Brians demeanor. He seemed....vunerable. Like his whole world was crashing down and he desperately needed someone to tell himit was going to be okay. Since Jeordie didn't know if it was, and he didn't want to lie, he just gathered up Brian in his arms and held him. Tears pricked the back of his eyes as for the first time in five years, he felt Brian cry. Strong gnarled fingers held his body close, and thier bodies fit together as perfectly now as they ever had. Jeordie rocked him back and forth, heads buried together and they stayed that way for a long time.


- Two Weeks Later -

Jeordie woke up in a bed that wasn't his but he felt like he belonged there more than anywhere else in the entire world. He opened his dark brown eyes and they focused on the mirror on the ceiling. Of course theres a mirror on the ceiling. He giggled. reflected back at him was his body, naked but for a wine colored sheet. His neck bore bites and his hair was a mess. Briuses marred his hips and his ass ached. Thier lovemaking, at first, had been brutal, deep, they had touched and held each other as the storms of five pent up years washed themselves over thier bodies. By now it had mellowed, calming into an intimacy they had never shared. Not that that had stopped it from being any less than stellar. The silk sheets were stained with thier combined juices and sweat. 'Gonna have to buy new ones' He thought, giggling even louder.

"Whatso funny?" Brian asked, turning over. He lifted his head, his eyes sleepy, the mismatched depths glassy and his pale skin flushed.

"You're gonna need new sheets." Jeordie giggled again, throwing his arms above his head and stretching sensually. All these years, no nakeup and short hair and he still looks like a bitch, Brian thought with a smirk and reached over to drag Jeordie to him, not that he called him that.

Things were so much different now. When he woke up this way, Brian didn't panic inwardly or run for the drugs. He didn't shove Twiggy away or pretend it meant nothing. It was a struggle, but he was forcing himself to accept what he was, and that had gone a long way in making him cut out the drugs. It wasnt over, but it was close. Virginia, it seemed, had sent him an angel of mercy in Jeordie, and he wasn't going to make the same mistakes twice. He was blind, but not totally retarded.

"Christ Twiggy, only you would notice that first thing in the afternoon." Jeordie tittered and moved closer, his eyes landing on the silver chain with the V charm on it he noticed Brian never took off these days.

"Brian....where did you get that necklace?"

"A friend." He had trouble considering someone who he'd known for less than a day a friend, but god, she'd saved his life. She deserved at least that much.

"Whats her name Brian. She never did tell me." He said softly, and they both knew who the other was talking about.

"Virginia." Brian said simply, twirling a lock of Jeordies baby soft black hair around his finger. The younger man nodded. Virginia. It seemed to fit her. He didn't know if hed ever go a day in his life ever again without seeing those eyes.

They both seemed to put it to rest. She would never be forgotten by either of them. Brian didnt ever want to forget her. She wouldnt forget him. She had told him as much. They both just put her in that place in thier hearts where bridges went, where U-turns went. Where swallowed pride and fading hurt went. Where the beginning of hope went.

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Hovering over the dresser in the corner, a pair of seemingly colorless eyes watched the scene and smiled. She swung her legs off the top and her hair brushed behind her ears. Blowing them a silent kiss, she turned when she heard a voice.

"Are you ready to go V, we can't hang out here all day."

"Yeah Kurt, I'm comin." She turned back, and before she faded away, she whispered, "Take care of each other. I'll always be watching over you."

The faint scent of rain hung in the air and Jeordie looked over towards the dresser. All he saw was a picture of he and Brian on a Santas lap in 1994, and right next to it, one of he and Brian on Santas lap.....taken two days before.