Title: Missed Me? (Ghost Gavin AU)
Pairing: Mavin
Summary: Michael had become accustomed to hearing his British boyfriend bouncing around the flat all hours of the day, watching TV, yelling at a game, injuring himself in some way. However, when said boyfriend has been dead for two years... That's something else entirely.
Warnings: Character Death (Don't worry he's still here), Angst, Swearing, Possible inaccurate injury/medical information, Bad Writing.
A/N: So I've had this idea for so long now and I finally decided to sit down and write it, this will hopefully be a multi chapter fic depending on popularity. This is my first Achievement Hunter/Rooster Teeth fic, and I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think :)
Word Count: 2,475
It had been an accident, he was told. Gav had been filming a Slo Mo Guys with Dan in England when it had happened, he'd been filming a video involving an explosion, but when it had gone off the lanky man had been a bit too close and been struck in the abdomen with a fragment of brick. He'd been fine at first, just a little winded and slightly bruised, or so he'd said down the phone that night to Michael. "I'm fine, Micool." The Brit had whined. "Mum wanted to go to the hospital, but I'm not dying or anything and I feel fine after a little rest." And that was that. Everything was fine, Michael would have his Boi back in less than a week and it would all be fine.
Except it wasn't. The first sign something was wrong was when the caller ID said Mrs. Free rather than Gavin. Gavin's mother never called him, they'd only met twice and she only had his number in case Gav wasn't answering his own phone. Answering it almost reluctantly, the curly haired man pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
"Michael... I- It's Gavin's Mum... I just..." That was the second sign something was up. The woman on the other end of the phone was sobbing heavily, barely taking a breath before another heavy sob shook her voice. Without even knowing why, Michael's eyes had filled with tears, he couldn't say anything to comfort the woman, but silently begged her to hurry up and tell him what was wrong. Was Gavin hurt? Was he okay? Why was she calling instead of him? So many questions filled his mind that he almost missed the few words that came through the line between heart wrenching cries. 'Gavin is dead.'
It was like being dumped under water, almost, sounds around him blurred and fuzzed. He was vaguely aware of someone still talking on the end of the phone, explaining what had happened. He didn't take any information in after that, he simply hung up the phone and sat on the floor for the rest of the night. He stared at the door for hours the next day, waiting for it to open and his British prick to walk through, it didn't happen. It came to the point where he had to build up the courage to call Mrs. Free back, and with that came the same feeling as the previous night. He'd been fine all night after the incident, apparently, though in the morning he'd been sporting an impressive purple and blue bruise covering most of his stomach. After that he complained of pain in his stomach, though refused to go and get it checked in favour of filming a Microwave catching fire in slow motion. By the day after that he could barely leave bed because of his pain, and spent most of it sleeping. The bruise was spreading also, now passing around his sides and further up his chest. It had been internal bleeding, a result of the blunt force trauma two days before, it was severe and killing him quickly... By the time an ambulance was called, it was too late. Too much damage was caused and he slipped away before help arrived.
Michael couldn't believe it, a piece of rock, a piece of rock had taken his Boi away from him. For hours he sat staring at the floor, trying to wrap his head around what would happen now. He couldn't bring himself to do anything other than stand, because if he did anything, he would be reminded that he was doing it without Gavin. Just like he would be for the rest of his life now.
He cried, he mourned. He flew to England with Geoff and Burnie, they'd arranged a memorial service in the lad's home country for the family and friends there, but ultimately Gav had wanted to be buried in Austin, his home. Surprisingly Mrs. Free agreed to let her son go, "It's where he truly belongs." She'd said, clasping Michaels hand with sympathy. He planned Gavin's funeral in America with the help of the Ramsey's, it was simple and as small as you can get with an entire company attending. He mourned some more, got angry, fought with his friends when they tried to help. He lay awake often wondering what would be if Gavin had simply went to hospital when it happened, but he soon learnt the what if's were too much to contemplate.
Slowly but surely, Michael taught himself to live without his other half. Every now and then he would still wake up expecting to feel a body against his, sometimes he'd still turn to his Boi during a let's play only to find his spot empty, and once, Michael could have sworn he'd seen Gavin walking to the warehouse where Ryan worked, but none the less, he forced himself to move forward and forget. It was for the best.
Meow
Michael scrunched up his face in annoyance when he heard the sound that woke him at the same time, every morning without fail.
Meow
"I know, I'm coming." The man groaned, pushing himself up on his elbow as he used his hand to rub his face and hopefully wake himself up a little. Opening his eyes and blinking sleepily, he acknowledged the presence of the grey cat by scratching it behind the ear. That didn't last long however, the cat itself got impatient and meowed louder, pawing at Michael's hand indicating it wanted the routine morning feed. "You're so impatient aren't you?" He huffed, swinging his legs out of the bed and onto the carpeted floor.
The walk to the kitchen from the bedroom was a short one, and he grinned at the sound of purring as he spooned food into a dish for the animal that had trotted contentedly behind him. "There you go, Tuna, breakfast." The dish was set down on the floor and Michael smiled warmly, remembering the day that Gavin had convinced him to get the thing.
"But Micool..."
"But Miicooool..." He imitated in a high pitched voice, rolling his eyes and turning for the exit.
"Michael, wait!" Gavin yelped, catching his boyfriends arm and pulling him back over to the little glass pen full of mewling kittens. Michael had known it was a mistake to let the British man look in the pet store, he knew this would happen. The man was like a kid, he couldn't go five fucking minutes without wanting to buy something, and then begging Michael to buy it for him.
"Gav, I said no, we live in a fourth floor apartment, it's tiny, and we both work all day five days a week and you can barely look after yourself let alone a kitten!"
It took mere seconds for Gavin's wide eyes to get impossibly wider and a small pout form. "I'll look after it, look-" His hand flew out and pointed out the only grey cat in the pen, all the others were black and white, some with a rare patch of brown. "She's lovely, look."
An hour and a half later the boys were sat on their sofa watching the tiny thing explore her new home. "I'm going to call her Tuna." Gavin announced proudly, and Michael didn't even to bother to question it, because by now he was used to his partner having odd names for everything, and it just wouldn't have been the same if she was called anything remotely normal. Like mittens or fluffy.
"Tuna, I love that."
He tried to smile at the memory because it had Gavin in it, and it was a happy time for them, but it was difficult. It had been two years, to the day, since Gavin had left him, and it was still hard to think of him without falling apart. Taking one last look at the cat, munching happily on its namesake, he left the room to go and get ready for another day at work.
"Let's stop!" Geoff called, pulling off his headphones with a heavy sigh and spinning in his chair to face the rest of the room. Everyone was slowly ending their capture and beginning the process of sending the footage through to Lindsay for her to edit. "Alright, assholes, who wants lunch?" He specifically eyed Michael as he asked the question and the curly haired man had a feeling he knew why.
"I'm in... Free food right?" Ray grinned, not yet looking away from his screen that was until he was met with a chorus of agreements from the rest of the room. Well everyone except Michael. "You in Michael?" The Puerto Rican asked carefully, glancing at Geoff with an unsure gaze.
Honestly, he couldn't blame them all for worrying so much, after all it was an anniversary, and after last year when he'd decided it would be a good idea to skip work and drink all day, he would be watching him too. "No thanks, guys. I think I'm gonna use the free time to get ahead on some recordings." The smile he gave them was meant to be reassuring and firm, though he was certain it came across as uncertain and forced.
"Are you sure?" A different voice chimed in this time, Ryan. "I mean, I'm not so sure about letting you starve."
"I'll be fine, I promise to grab something later." This time he turned away from the rest of the room, making it known his decision was final. A tense moment of silence, in which Michael was sure the four other men were glancing between each other uncertainly, passed, and finally they all collected their things and began to leave. They were almost out of the door when Michael heard his name called softly, looking up from loading a game he noticed Ray alone in the doorway, his gaze darting around the room in a terrified way, he was wringing his hands just a little. If he were any more nervous, Michael is sure he'd be shaking. "Yes, Ray?" He hadn't meant it to sound so impatient, and immediately regretted the way his friend flinched.
Sending him an apologetic look, Brownman took a few steps forward and hesitantly laid a hand on Michael's shoulder. "I really miss Vav too..." He whispered. "Everyone does, but separating yourself won't make you feel better at all." The pleading look in Ray's eyes matched with the words coming from his mouth were almost enough to make the strongest of men cry, yet Michael refused to admit there were tears in his eyes. "Please come to lunch."
After a moment of thought, Michael looked back to his TV screen. "Sorry, X-Ray, but I'm gonna do some recordings. Maybe tomorrow." He didn't see Ray leave, but he heard the quick footsteps and the door shut, not quite a slam but harder than normal.
When he was certain he was alone, Michael looked over to the ever-present desk next to his. "Everybody misses you Gavvers."
At the end of the day he was greeted by soft meowing and rubbing from Tuna, which he'd become accustomed to. He went through his usual routine of finding something microwaveable to eat, zapping it, and only eating half of it because he didn't feel hungry enough, and subsequently feeding whatever he could of the rest of it to the cat. He showered, a nice long hot shower that relaxed his muscles, probably aching from whatever brawl (because there is bound to have been one) from that day at the Achievement Hunter office. He dried off and pulled on a Vav shirt that was a little too tight since it had belonged to the Vav himself, and some sweatpants. He wandered through to the kitchen and fed the cat for the second time, while making himself a cup of coffee. Once that was drained he found beer in the fridge and drooped onto the sofa, Tuna instantly curling up on his lap as he browsed Netflix for anything interesting to watch. Upon finding nothing, he settled for re-watching Breaking Bad, it's not like he was going to be paying any attention to it anyway, he could already feel himself start to drift off. The repetitive motion of his hand stroking the cat acting as a stress relief. As he neared the end of season one, he lay him down and closed his eyes, giving in to the exhaustion that was overcoming him. He didn't really care he was asleep on the sofa, nor did he care that there was a half empty beer bottle on the floor and three empty ones on the coffee table, he just wanted to sleep and have this day be over. Nothing particularly bad had happened, he had managed fairly well to keep it together, and it was the reminder he did not want to have to deal with anymore. His last thought as he left consciousness was of Gavin. He thought of him lying with him, curled in his arms like he might have two years and a day ago.
I really miss you Gavvy.
He vaguely registered someone tutting in the distance, and then he heard glass clinking together as what he assumed were beer bottles were moved. Geoff, its Geoff. Michael thought his boss had been given a spare key the day they got back from England; he didn't want to take the chance of him doing something stupid. Not that the New Jersey lad was suicidal or anything, he just knew he had a tendency to drink his sorrows away and therefore not likely to turn up to work or any other important arrangements.
He only realised it was not Geoff when he heard Tuna hissing and growling violently, she never did that with Geoff. So that's when his heart leapt into his throat and he opened his eyes, sitting up to see a dark figure sat on the end of the sofa. It was almost pitch black outside, it couldn't be later than midnight, he concluded, so who was in his flat?
"Oh good you're awake!" Michael's heart dropped from his throat into his stomach upon hearing a familiar British accent. "Did you miss me, Micool?"