One Reason

It didn’t take too long for Jeremy to write his suicide note. After all, it was only for the Mells. They were the only ones who deserved it. The roof was the best place. Maybe once he was dead in the driveway, his family would really see him.

He knew they’d at least care enough to clean him up off the ground. Maybe they’d even hold a funeral filled with hollow words and probably fake tears too. He had said in his note that he wanted to be buried next to Michael. 

“Okay, Jere, go time.” He sighed as he stepped out onto the flat part of the roof. Four stories should be enough if he landed head first. That was when he spotted another figure up there with him, one he’d never seen before.

The first thing that struck him was how uncanny the resemblance between Keanu Reeves and this man was. No way Keanu Reeves would be on his roof though... So who was this guy?

“Ah, looks like someone else wanted to come to the roof. Alas, whoever this is will never see me. No one ever does,” griped the man who... sounded like Keanu when he was playing Ted. Michael loved that movie franchise.

“What are you doing up here?” Jeremy couldn’t help but ask. Was this guy another ghost? But no one else had died in this house, he’d checked!

The man turned his head around, staring at Jeremy with wide eyes. “Wait, you can see me?”

“Er, yeah.” Jeremy nodded, frowning a little. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better now that you’re here. You’re the first living person to see me.” But this guy didn’t look like a ghost, not like Christine and Brooke. They hovered over everything and there was that slight translucency to them. This dude seemed solid and he was firmly sitting on the edge of the chimney.

“You don’t look like a ghost...” Jeremy hummed, walking closer to the edge of the roof. “And, well, I won’t be alive for much longer anyway. Sorry.”

“Wait, you aren’t thinking of making yourself a splatter like bugs on a windshield, right?” The man hopped off the chimney and stood by Jeremy. “I don’t know if this is some new trend, but this won’t be worth it.”

“Anything is better than what I’ve got right now.” Jeremy huffed. “I’d rather take my chances on the other side.”

“Trust me, you do not. You just need someone who can help you with... I’m guessing a bad move? Bad family? Give me something to work with here, kid.”

“Both, actually.” Jeremy faced the guy, arching an eyebrow. “Why?”

The man smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, you just so happen to be in luck. I'm that someone who can help you. Whatever you need, I can give it to you."

No way did Jeremy trust this guy. “Well, how would I get you to help me? What’s in it for you?”

"I just need you to say my name three times. I cannot affect the world of the living until a living person summons me. Think of it like rubbing a genie lamp, except it's not as possibly phallic in interpretation."

“Well, what’s your name?” Jeremy was at least curious. He could do some digging on this guy, see what he found, then decide if he was worth the risk.

The man let out a laugh. "Oh, if only it was that easy. I wish I could tell you my name, but if I try, nothing'll come out. Literally." As the man opened his mouth, trying to speak, he coughed and it sounded like he was hacking up a lung. Once he closed his mouth, his coughing stopped. "Literally can't. It's demon magic."

So he was a demon. Yeah, definitely didn’t trust him now. “Well how about a game of hangman or something?”

“Oh, sounds fun.” The demon snapped his fingers and a chalkboard appeared. The piece of chalk was lifted by a hand that appeared from the side of the chalkboard, one that looked a lot like the demon’s. 

There were only five letters. This couldn’t be hard, right?

Might as well start with the most common letter. “E?” The first part of the hangman was drawn out. “Huh. I?”

The arm gave a thumbs up before drawing that in. It was the fourth letter. Hm.

“S?” That was the first letter. “T?” Nope, that was the next stroke on the hangman. He got struck by an idea out of nowhere. “Q?” That was the second letter. Which meant- “U?”

The third letter filled. “It’s not the sea creature, so don’t put a ‘d’ at the end. I’ve gotten that too many times in my undead lifetime.”

Jeremy arched an eyebrow. What could the last letter be? He didn’t think it would be ‘B’ simply because of Harry Potter. “P?”

The arm wrote the last letter in before the name was illuminated and flashed slowly with neon lights. "There you go, kid! You got it! I’m impressed."

Squip? “Your name is Squip?” Jeremy hummed, as if he were actually considering saying it. It’s not like Squip could actually do anything to him, he just said he couldn’t affect the living and Jeremy was, regrettably, still alive.

"Yes, it is. Now, you just have to say it three times in a row. Like, for example, white white white, but replace 'white' with my name."

“Okay then.” Jeremy grinned. This was a bit mean but he was feeling angry and vindictive and Squip just happened to be the first person he encountered. “Squip.” The demon grinned and bounced in place. “Squip.” He started glowing a neon blue. “Ssssss-“

"Oh god, alright, you do not understand how great this is going to be-"

“So!” Squip’s face fell. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m suicidal, not stupid.” Jeremy snorted. “You’re a demon. I might be angry at my family, but I don’t want to make things worse for them. And besides, you haven’t even told me how you're going to help.”

Squip crossed his arms over his chest before letting out an impressed hum. "Well, I can do many things for you. It all depends on what you want and ask of me. I am a demon of the Netherworld, after all. Also yes, Netherworld is another name for the after life, where you go when you die, ecetera ecetera."

“Well I’ll consider it, but the jump is still seeming more appealing right now.” Jeremy waved him off and turned back to the edge. “You’re not exactly selling this whole shtick very well. Got any references or example cases?”

Somehow, Squip didn't seem bothered. "Jeremy? Jeremy, oh my god, there you are!" Brooke called as she and Christine managed to make it up to the roof.

"Brookie, Chrissy, nice to see you two."

Christine’s eyes widened. “Jeremy, get away from him! He’s not nice at all! He’s the one who wanted to scare y-“ 

Suddenly, her warning cut off as both Christine and Brooke straightened and smiled too brightly, like painted dolls. Jeremy would have stepped backwards in shock and revulsion, except that would have sent him over the edge and he wasn’t going down just yet. He was worried about his friends. To be safe, he shuffled away from the edge.

Brooke rested her hands against her hips as she beamed, though did it in a way like a marionette being controlled by its strings. "Squip is wonderful!"

Christine pointed her finger at herself, moving in the same manner as her wife. "Squip is so smart!"

Jeremy glanced over at Squip, certain he was behind their sudden shift in attitude. Sure enough, Squip was moving his arms and opening and closing his hands with every word they were saying. Was he controlling them?

“Squip graduated from Juilliard.” Both the women put one hand over their hearts and the other behind their back and they bowed.

God, this was so fucking creepy and Jeremy was scared for his friends. Were they okay?

The two put their hands on their hips and turned to the side, circling with their hips as they went. "He can help-" They turned to face Jeremy with those off smiles, their eyes a hint of that neon blue that Squip had been glowing before. "-We found him on Yelp."

“Our troubles all ended-” Jeremy watched in a fascinated sort of horror as Christine and Brooke turned to the side and crossed their arms over their chests. Then they held their arms out and almost did a sort of kick line. “-On the day that we befriended him!” If this didn’t stop soon, Jeremy was going to bait Squip again and shift his attention.

Both of them gave continual thumbs-ups to Jeremy, thrusting them back and forth. "Listen to him and have a fun trip with-" They turned to face each other. "-Squip-" They gave each other a one-armed hug. "-Squip-" They pointed proudly over at the man they were praising. "-Squip!"

They held the pose for a second longer before they both sagged and started rubbing at their arms, those creepy smiles turning to grimaces. 

“Oh that was so violating!” Christine cried. 

“I feel gross!” Brooke shuddered, looking like she might vomit.

“There you go, kid, a couple of five star reviews.” Squip smirked.

“What did you do to them?” Jeremy asked. Well, it was more that he demanded. He was angry at that stunt and worried about the ghosts. As he spoke he walked over and started checking them over without touching. He knew that might be a big no no if they were having sensory issues, which seemed likely.

“I did a little something called possession. It’s simple, easy, and pretty much any ghost or demon can do it,” SQUIP said, listing each point off on his fingers as well.

“Any ghost?” Jeremy asked slowly, taking Christine’s hand and squeezing it when she flailed in his direction.

Squip looked at his nails, smiling before glancing at Jeremy. “Yeah, pretty much. Any ghost’ll do.”

“Then, pray tell, why do I need you?”

“Because they’re too sweet and nice to do anything to help you. You need someone who can do what you need, and it sure as hell aren’t these two. They’re like the squishy characters everyone wants to protect because of how sweet, kind, and caring they are,” Squip defended before gesturing to the girls who cried out.

“We can be scary if we want!”

“Yeah, sure. I tried to help you two out before.”

“They’ve improved.” Jeremy huffed. “I’ll think about it, but I’m not really seeing the appeal of you right now.” The edge seemed a lot less appealing too now that Jeremy had a way of getting his family to actually notice him properly for once and people who he trusted who wanted to help him.

Squip hummed as he walked to where Jeremy had climbed up and onto this part of the roof. “Well, I have a way of doing it that doesn’t involve any death and heartache for you. If you need me, just say my name.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” As something not to do. Jeremy had a bad feeling about Squip, he just didn’t trust the guy. It went beyond the fact he was a demon too. He couldn’t place why he mistrusted Squip so badly, he just knew that he was bad news. It was the same sort of feeling he got when Michael was complaining of a pain in his side and Jeremy insisted he go to the doctors.

Despite that bad feeling, Jeremy couldn’t help but be interested too. He watched as Squip waved before hopping down. When Jeremy glanced over the edge, the demon was gone.

“So, I’m just gonna... hold on to this.” Jeremy took the note still clenched in his hand and awkwardly shoved it into the pocket of his black cardigan. “I don’t need it right now.”

“Why did you have a note, and why were you on the roof?” Christine asked, though her tone and posture, as well as Brooke’s, made it pretty clear that they knew why to both questions.

Jeremy ducked his head, suddenly feeling ashamed. His cheeks burned with the feeling and he couldn’t make eye contact with either of them. “I... I was going to jump,” he whispered. “I’m suicidal, and I have been for a while.”

“Can we talk about this in the attic, Jeremy?” From Brooke’s tone, he knew he wasn’t in trouble. Somehow though, with how kindly they were talking to him, even after what Squip had just done to them, made him feel even more shameful.

Jeremy nodded and he let both take one of his hands and guide him into the attic once more. Still, he couldn’t look at them, couldn’t bear to see the pity which would undoubtedly be in their eyes. It was always pity, and Jeremy hated it. He didn’t want pity. He just wanted the hurting to stop. He wanted to stop hating himself. He just wanted something to help for once.

Despite that, when he sat down in the beanbag with either woman beside him, he saw no pity. Instead, there was concern. “Why did you want to kill yourself? Well, why do you want to?” Brooke asked.

“Because everything hurts,” Jeremy muttered, curling up. “It’s been hurting for years and no one cared enough to even ask me what was wrong, or listen when I tried telling them myself. Only Michael ever did. And he’s gone...” Jeremy sniffled. “I just want it to stop hurting. And I- I want to be with Michael again.” He knew it was pathetic, but it was the truth. “He helped me not hate myself so much. He made me feel like I was actually worth something, instead of just being this... loser.” The Failure. The Freak. The Misfit. The odd, problem child. The please-don’t-speak-Jeremy. The one that makes everything worse.

“You aren’t a loser, Jeremy,” Brooke insisted in a firm yet caring voice. “Do you want to know who is in front of me? A hurting boy who misses his friend that is really sweet and kind, helping others even when he’s hurting. A kind kid that I wish I knew before I died but am glad to know now. Someone I want to help so the hurting that someone feels stops.”

Jeremy finally looked up at her and only saw truth and honest in her expression. He couldn’t help it. He burst into tears and reached over, clinging to her as he sobbed and shivered.

Brooke held onto him as she cradled him close. “Let it all out,” she said as who could only have been Christine started rubbing Jeremy’s back.

And let it out he did. Jeremy didn’t say anything, not about his family, or about his mom, or about Michael. He just cried freely and clung to someone who he could feel loved him. Even if it was just enough to tolerate him, it was more than he deserved and more than he thought he’d get anymore. Brooke and Christine loved him to some degree, and that just... made everything feel a bit less painful. It didn’t stop the hurting, or the self loathing, but it did make it a tiny bit more bearable. Someone saw him and cared enough to keep looking.

Once he cried himself out (Jeremy had no clue how long had passed), he felt his hair being moved while Brooke still held him. “Do you want to just nap up here for a bit, Jere-bear?”

Jeremy nodded, and he awkwardly reached up the back of his shirt to undo his binder. He could just zip it back up when he woke up later. He clumsily set his glasses to the side before lying back down fully on Brooke’s lap. He was still shivering from how overwhelmed he was, as well as how cold they made him, but Jeremy didn’t care. He just needed to be close right then.

The cold feeling in his hair and along his back went away, and Jeremy heard the sound of things being moved. After a minute, he felt a blanket carefully put on him. “Here.”

Jeremy didn’t have enough energy to speak and thank whoever tucked him in. He’d just have to thank them later, he felt like he was going to pass out. Maybe that would be for the best.

Not long after thinking that, Jeremy felt himself slip away into unconsciousness.

When Jeremy awoke, he was surprised to find himself in his own bed. How did he get there? No one else had the key to the attic, there was no way up. He blinked and scrubbed at his eyes, flailing around to find his glasses. He slipped them on as soon as he found them.

As soon as he was able to see, Jeremy glanced around the room. He stopped when he saw that Marshal was asleep in a fold-out chair on the side of the room. What was he doing there? “M-Marshal?” Jeremy groaned. God, his voice was wrecked from crying.

Marshal groaned from where he was sitting before he reached up and rubbed his eyes. “Jerm?”

Jeremy hummed in acknowledgement. “Yeah. What are you doing in my room?”

“I’ve been here since dad and I found you in the attic,” Marshal said, his voice soft after he cleared his throat. “We- well, dad brought you back here after I got the door open.”

“How did you guys even get up there?” Jeremy asked as he sat up. “I have the only key.”

“Skeleton key. Found it on top of one of the door frames.”

“Oh...” Jeremy didn’t know what to say. The silence was awkward. He hated it and he just wanted to be left alone. He didn’t know what to feel right then. Why was Marshal even here?

“I wanted to be here to talk without dad trying to mediate. If you don’t want to, I won’t push you, but I would like to talk with you.”

“I... Okay?” This was a first. Jeremy wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but... if Marshal was actually going to make an effort, a proper effort, then Jeremy was willing to try to. It meant that Marshal actually did care, and that’s all Jeremy really wanted anyway.

Marshal leaned back in the chair, rubbing at his neck as he hissed. “Shouldn’t have slept here. But, uh, I’m not going to be working two jobs. I only have to work one job now, so I’ll be home more often.”

Jeremy arched an eyebrow. Marshal had never mentioned having two jobs. Then again, he hadn’t really had even a minute to spare up until now, so when would he have told Jeremy? It’s not like Jeremy had made many, many attempts and even cancelled plans to hang out with his brother, only to be blown off again and again. 

“Yeah?” was all he said back, trying to hide the bitterness growing in his chest.

“Yeah, so I’m going to try to do more things around the house and for you. I haven’t been here for you when I should have. I want to make dinner again and be able to hang out with you and-“

“Why don’t you just try keeping one of those,” Jeremy snapped. “Since I’ve heard this whole thing before, every time you’ve cancelled on me. ‘I’ll try harder!’ ‘Let me cook dinner tonight!’ ‘Let’s hang out next weekend!’” He slumped over with a huff. “Maybe just try showing some good faith before promising so many changes.”

Marshal went quiet. Jeremy was about to say something else to Marshal before his brother spoke up instead. “Well, I’ll try then. I’ll start by making dinner tonight.”

That wasn’t exactly the reaction Jeremy was expecting, but he was cautiously hopeful. Maybe...? No. It was better not to get his hopes up. It only ever hurt him in the long run.

“You rest up today,” Marshal said before he got up. “Oh, and tomorrow night, Dad’s bringing over his new partners for dinner. He told me just a bit ago and he was going to tell you before, uh... yeah.”

“Oh.” Dad was bringing over, what, business partners? Why? “So we’re having... strangers over for dinner?” Who Jeremy would have to ‘impress’ most likely. 

That wasn’t going to be fun, and none of his nice clothes were black. He had ruined his black suit after his attempt at the funeral. Which meant he only had the older blue slacks and blazer. Jeremy didn’t like wearing color anymore. He was in mourning.

“Yeah, but they’re supposed to be nice and sweet. It’ll be a smaller sort of dinner party if you wanna think of it that way,” Marshal said with a shrug. “I need to go to the store today to pick up stuff for tomorrow. Do you want anything special to eat?”

“Roast chicken?” Back when Marshal did cook, he’d always make the best roast chickens. If he was offering, then Jeremy was more than happy to take advantage of that.

“Alright, there’ll be roast chicken then. I’ll see what I can get for tonight too.”

“Thanks, Marsh.” Jeremy fiddled with just fingers a little awkwardly. “I guess... I’ll do some more unpacking. There’s still a couple of boxes to  clean up.” It was the boxes of Michael’s stuff. He’d left most of his things to Jeremy, and his moms had agreed.

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you for dinner then.” Marshal gave Jeremy a smile as he headed for the door.

“See you.” Jeremy gave him a weak smile before taking stock of what he had. The note was still in his cardigan pocket, and so was the key, so clearly they hadn’t taken anything. Which meant Jeremy just had to get the skeleton key later to make sure they didn’t get up to the attic again. Okay, that was good. 

With a sigh. Jeremy stood up and headed over to the boxes. At the very least, he could see what Michael had left him.

After finding some scissors, Jeremy opened the tape and the first box. Ina’s handwriting on the side of this one said to open ASAP, so he had to open this one first. Why this one though?

Jeremy got his answer when he looked inside. Right on top, folded up nice and neat, was Michael’s hoodie.

Jeremy was shaking as he reached into the box and carefully pulled it out. It still felt as soft as ever, and it was almost warm in his hands. He hugged it close and yes, somehow it still had that same familiar smell. Slushies and the citrus laundry detergent that Michael loved. It was faint, but it was there. It made it feel like Michael was there with him.

Acting on impulse, Jeremy slipped off his cardigan and put the hoodie on, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. Like this, surrounded by the familiar softness and smell and warmth which he’d been lacking for the past few months, Jeremy didn’t feel alone anymore. He could feel Michael there with him, even if he was gone.

Jeremy didn’t think he could stop the tears if he tried.

He swore that, by the end, it felt like Michael was hugging him. Apparently, he could see ghosts and demons, but he didn’t see Michael when he looked around. It only made him cry harder.

He missed Michael. He missed feeling warm and happy. He missed his home. 

Jeremy almost missed the gentle voices of Brooke and Christine as they floated in. He didn’t stop crying, and they didn’t try to stop him. Instead, they just let him feel and cry out the pain. They were only only ones who did.