Disclaimer: I don't own Shane Helms or any other WWE superstars named
here. The song and title of this fic belong to Brian McComas.
~*
I walk over to the grave, my guitar in my hand. It's been fourteen years to the day that you died. Oh God, I miss you so bad. Every day, I think about you, waiting till I get a break to come and see you again. I never have anything new to say, but I do this year. I finally finished that song I was writing for you. I told you about it, remember? I've been writing on it since about a year after you died. I could never find the right words, but I have this time.
I sit down in front of your headstone, and lay the guitar on my lap.
"Hey bud," I whisper. "I'm back." I play a few notes idly, afraid to start the song. After a few deep breaths, I start to talk again.
"It's been fourteen years. Man, I can't believe it's been that long." A tear falls from my eye, but I wipe it away. No use crying over it. "You're gone," I finish out-loud. "Man, I wish I could change that. . . ." But instead, I strum the opening notes of the song, which I titled "Sixteen Again." The memories of where the words came from come back as I sing softly, yet strongly, to your grave.
If we were sixteen again, we'd still be playing baseball
Mixing Big Red and Red Man* on the left side of the infield
"Pass the Red Man," you say, holding out your hand. I throw the can to you and you pop some in your mouth. You chew for a few minutes in silence before spitting it out and taking a swig of Big Red.
I grin and jerk my can in your direction, laughing, sending the red liquid flying onto your otherwise clean baseball uniform.
"Hey!" you say, jumping back, but it hits you anyway and you laugh with me.
And both D'Amico sisters would be sitting in the bleachers
And we'd ask them to the movies instead of acting like two big deals
My friend, if we were sixteen again
"Hello ladies," you say, strutting up to the D'Amico sisters, wide grin on your face.
"Hey," they reply, smiling back at us.
"What are you guys up to tonight?" Marie asks.
"Just gonna hang out," I answer, "maybe work-out a little." I flex my arm up for them to feel.
"Wow," they say in unison.
"So you're gonna be busy all night?" Deanna asks, looking disappointed.
"Yeah. Sorry ladies," you say.
If we were sixteen again, I'd suggest we study harder
Maybe be a little smarter and not so hell-bent
"Dude, you studied for that test yet?" I ask you, referring to our science test, which would be in a few days.
"Nope. Don't plan to," you say, laughing. I join you. We never studied. That was for wusses. We'd skim over it a few minutes before they passed the papers out, and we'd probably flunk it, but that was okay. We had good grades, always managed a B average.
An evil smile spreads over your face. "Wanna go for a ride?"
I'm sure an identical smile forms on my face as I nod. You just recently got your license, and had, therefore, driven me everywhere I needed to go and then some. I wouldn't get mine for another few months.
We run out and jump in your car, and start off. After about five minutes, we reach an old country road. There sure were a lot back here in NC. I roll down the window and pull myself out to sit on the door as you go from zero to eighty in just a few seconds. I let out a jubilant cry as we fly down the road, waving our fists in the air.
Drink a few more Sun-Drops*; leave the Mad Dog* to the winos*
Ride around with our shirts off - man, we looked good back then
Old friend, if we were sixteen again
If we were sixteen again
"Gimmie," you say, holding out your hand. I pass you a Mad Dog while the rest of our friends grab some Sun-Drops. Our buddy, the driver, pulls up to a red light. In one fluid movement, he pulls his shirt off and throws it back at us. The passenger next to him grins and follows suit. We laugh but stay fully clothed as we down the rest of our Mad Dogs.
I guess we thought we'd live forever
Thought we'd always be together
And things would never change
Oh, no
"Man, we have to have the best lives," you say, giving a small toast to me with your bottle of beer. I returned it with my Coke. It's obvious you're absolutely smashed.
A few more minutes, you stand and sway on your feet. "Time for me to head home."
If we were sixteen again, well I'd have stood up to you
Told you, you weren't driving
Took your keys and drove you home
"Hey dude, you sure you should drive like that?" I ask, standing up in front of you.
"Course, Shane. I've done it a million times." Your words slur together. "Don't tell me your gonna go all 'Don't drink and drive,' on me, bud."
I drop my eyes. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."
"That's my boy," you say, clapping me on the shoulder. Then you head outside.
And I'd tell you that I loved you like you were my own brother
I sit in the hospital room, next to your bed, in a little chair. You had a wreck on your way from the party. You were just too drunk. You lost too much blood, too. Doctors say you won't live through the night. I take a deep breath, refusing to let myself cry.
"Hey man," I start. "Doctors say you're not gonna live. Guess you gotta prove 'em wrong, don't ya?" But I know that you won't. I can feel that you're going to die, but I still can't bring myself to say those words to you. Love, even if it was just a brotherly one, wasn't for men to talk about. We were men. I was a man. I couldn't say that to you.
I just couldn't.
And I'd be talking to you now, instead of this headstone
I was there at the funeral. How could I miss it? You were my best friend, my brother.
I watch them put you in the ground, and hold back my tears. My parents are standing next to me, and my mother is sobbing. My father is doing the same as me, not letting the tears out, but I can see that it's hard for him. You were a part of the family, as much as I was. But now you're gone. I wonder vaguely how many times I'm going to get to come talk to you here. Bet it'll break my heart every time.
Old friend, if we were sixteen again
If we were sixteen again
Brought back to the present, I notice that my tears, which I have learned to let out, have fallen relentlessly down my cheeks throughout most of the song. God, I miss you.
I sit in silence, my only wish to have one more minute with you alive, just to say those things I couldn't that night in the hospital. That I loved you. That I still do. That I miss you like crazy, and none of my new friends will ever take your place.
I kiss two of my fingers, and press them to your headstone, on your name. It's cold on my skin, but I don't care.
I stand, taking my guitar back in one hand and just stare for a few more seconds.
"I guess I'll see ya again next year, bud," I whisper, before turning around. My new friends are standing there, watching avidly, worried about me as always.
"You okay, Shane?" Amy asks, and I slowly nod. I walk back over to them and Jeff wraps his arm around my shoulders. Somewhere to my other side, Shannon wraps his arm around my waist. I nod again at Amy and Matt, who are standing in front of me.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."
And I start off again, back to the car, with my new brothers. And sister, I remind myself with a small grin. Amy was very particular about that.
And I continue with my life, saving the world from the WWE villains. Man, you would love this life as much as I would love having you here.
I still miss you. But I guess I just have to keep moving on.
Cause we'll never be sixteen again.
~*
*Red Man: A type of chewing tobacco
*Sun-Drops: Soda, like Sunkist
*Mad Dog: Really, really cheap beer
*Winos: Drunks on the corner
~*
A/N: Please review.
~*
I walk over to the grave, my guitar in my hand. It's been fourteen years to the day that you died. Oh God, I miss you so bad. Every day, I think about you, waiting till I get a break to come and see you again. I never have anything new to say, but I do this year. I finally finished that song I was writing for you. I told you about it, remember? I've been writing on it since about a year after you died. I could never find the right words, but I have this time.
I sit down in front of your headstone, and lay the guitar on my lap.
"Hey bud," I whisper. "I'm back." I play a few notes idly, afraid to start the song. After a few deep breaths, I start to talk again.
"It's been fourteen years. Man, I can't believe it's been that long." A tear falls from my eye, but I wipe it away. No use crying over it. "You're gone," I finish out-loud. "Man, I wish I could change that. . . ." But instead, I strum the opening notes of the song, which I titled "Sixteen Again." The memories of where the words came from come back as I sing softly, yet strongly, to your grave.
If we were sixteen again, we'd still be playing baseball
Mixing Big Red and Red Man* on the left side of the infield
"Pass the Red Man," you say, holding out your hand. I throw the can to you and you pop some in your mouth. You chew for a few minutes in silence before spitting it out and taking a swig of Big Red.
I grin and jerk my can in your direction, laughing, sending the red liquid flying onto your otherwise clean baseball uniform.
"Hey!" you say, jumping back, but it hits you anyway and you laugh with me.
And both D'Amico sisters would be sitting in the bleachers
And we'd ask them to the movies instead of acting like two big deals
My friend, if we were sixteen again
"Hello ladies," you say, strutting up to the D'Amico sisters, wide grin on your face.
"Hey," they reply, smiling back at us.
"What are you guys up to tonight?" Marie asks.
"Just gonna hang out," I answer, "maybe work-out a little." I flex my arm up for them to feel.
"Wow," they say in unison.
"So you're gonna be busy all night?" Deanna asks, looking disappointed.
"Yeah. Sorry ladies," you say.
If we were sixteen again, I'd suggest we study harder
Maybe be a little smarter and not so hell-bent
"Dude, you studied for that test yet?" I ask you, referring to our science test, which would be in a few days.
"Nope. Don't plan to," you say, laughing. I join you. We never studied. That was for wusses. We'd skim over it a few minutes before they passed the papers out, and we'd probably flunk it, but that was okay. We had good grades, always managed a B average.
An evil smile spreads over your face. "Wanna go for a ride?"
I'm sure an identical smile forms on my face as I nod. You just recently got your license, and had, therefore, driven me everywhere I needed to go and then some. I wouldn't get mine for another few months.
We run out and jump in your car, and start off. After about five minutes, we reach an old country road. There sure were a lot back here in NC. I roll down the window and pull myself out to sit on the door as you go from zero to eighty in just a few seconds. I let out a jubilant cry as we fly down the road, waving our fists in the air.
Drink a few more Sun-Drops*; leave the Mad Dog* to the winos*
Ride around with our shirts off - man, we looked good back then
Old friend, if we were sixteen again
If we were sixteen again
"Gimmie," you say, holding out your hand. I pass you a Mad Dog while the rest of our friends grab some Sun-Drops. Our buddy, the driver, pulls up to a red light. In one fluid movement, he pulls his shirt off and throws it back at us. The passenger next to him grins and follows suit. We laugh but stay fully clothed as we down the rest of our Mad Dogs.
I guess we thought we'd live forever
Thought we'd always be together
And things would never change
Oh, no
"Man, we have to have the best lives," you say, giving a small toast to me with your bottle of beer. I returned it with my Coke. It's obvious you're absolutely smashed.
A few more minutes, you stand and sway on your feet. "Time for me to head home."
If we were sixteen again, well I'd have stood up to you
Told you, you weren't driving
Took your keys and drove you home
"Hey dude, you sure you should drive like that?" I ask, standing up in front of you.
"Course, Shane. I've done it a million times." Your words slur together. "Don't tell me your gonna go all 'Don't drink and drive,' on me, bud."
I drop my eyes. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."
"That's my boy," you say, clapping me on the shoulder. Then you head outside.
And I'd tell you that I loved you like you were my own brother
I sit in the hospital room, next to your bed, in a little chair. You had a wreck on your way from the party. You were just too drunk. You lost too much blood, too. Doctors say you won't live through the night. I take a deep breath, refusing to let myself cry.
"Hey man," I start. "Doctors say you're not gonna live. Guess you gotta prove 'em wrong, don't ya?" But I know that you won't. I can feel that you're going to die, but I still can't bring myself to say those words to you. Love, even if it was just a brotherly one, wasn't for men to talk about. We were men. I was a man. I couldn't say that to you.
I just couldn't.
And I'd be talking to you now, instead of this headstone
I was there at the funeral. How could I miss it? You were my best friend, my brother.
I watch them put you in the ground, and hold back my tears. My parents are standing next to me, and my mother is sobbing. My father is doing the same as me, not letting the tears out, but I can see that it's hard for him. You were a part of the family, as much as I was. But now you're gone. I wonder vaguely how many times I'm going to get to come talk to you here. Bet it'll break my heart every time.
Old friend, if we were sixteen again
If we were sixteen again
Brought back to the present, I notice that my tears, which I have learned to let out, have fallen relentlessly down my cheeks throughout most of the song. God, I miss you.
I sit in silence, my only wish to have one more minute with you alive, just to say those things I couldn't that night in the hospital. That I loved you. That I still do. That I miss you like crazy, and none of my new friends will ever take your place.
I kiss two of my fingers, and press them to your headstone, on your name. It's cold on my skin, but I don't care.
I stand, taking my guitar back in one hand and just stare for a few more seconds.
"I guess I'll see ya again next year, bud," I whisper, before turning around. My new friends are standing there, watching avidly, worried about me as always.
"You okay, Shane?" Amy asks, and I slowly nod. I walk back over to them and Jeff wraps his arm around my shoulders. Somewhere to my other side, Shannon wraps his arm around my waist. I nod again at Amy and Matt, who are standing in front of me.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."
And I start off again, back to the car, with my new brothers. And sister, I remind myself with a small grin. Amy was very particular about that.
And I continue with my life, saving the world from the WWE villains. Man, you would love this life as much as I would love having you here.
I still miss you. But I guess I just have to keep moving on.
Cause we'll never be sixteen again.
~*
*Red Man: A type of chewing tobacco
*Sun-Drops: Soda, like Sunkist
*Mad Dog: Really, really cheap beer
*Winos: Drunks on the corner
~*
A/N: Please review.