Archive of Our Own

Fearless. Bold. Daring. A chaotic hurricane with a touch of daredevil recklessness. Shane crosses the kitchen without even a flicker of nervousness in his bones. An electric current of excitement hums through Shane's veins, and sparks the curiosity in his eyes. The sparse pools of light from the team vainly fight against the Sallie House's smothering shadows. But Shane keeps walking forward.

As Ryan wonders where Shane's absurd bravery comes from, shock melts into bewilderment. Underneath all the confusion grows an ocean of admiration. Standing from afar, Ryan studies the pattern of Shane's red and black flannel, the strong line of his broad shoulders, and the glimpse of a smile between shadows. There's no faux bravado here.

Ryan's insides twist at the mere thought of confronting that flashlight on the kitchen counter. But Shane carries the same relaxed atmosphere like when he guides Ryan through VHS aisles, and offers in-depth history lessons on various horror sci-fi films. They're supposed to marathon Event Horizon, From Beyond, Videodrome, Altered States, and more of Shane's favorites once they're back in LA. But that's if they survive the Sallie House tonight.

"Dude, Shane, wait-" Ryan gasps between ragged breathing. Every inhale withers Ryan's lungs into dust. His heartbeat frantically drums to a syncopated beat. "It's okay, man. You don't have to do this."

"Well, sure, but-" Shane flashes a grin over his shoulder. That smile outshines any of the lights in this desolate kitchen, and even all the city lights back home. "I bet it'd make my bestfriend happy if a demon or ghost showed up." Shane throws in a playful wink. "Maybe we'll even get to see the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man."

A fit of wheezes break through Ryan until his abdomen aches. Suffocating shadows lighten as Ryan's laughter ricochets off the walls. Delirium. Joy. The line between the two blurs and melts together. That's just what Shane does. He makes Ryan laugh during the most unexpected, yet needed moments. Whether it's during another tense meeting with the company higher-ups about why Unsolved should keep going. Or tonight as they investigate the demon infested Sallie House.

But Ryan's delighted wheezes abruptly die once Shane reaches the kitchen counter. Shane crouches down, so he's closer to eye level with the flashlight.

That freezing torrent of fear rushes back into Ryan. Air traps inside of Ryan's collapsing lungs, and his body goes rigid with early rigor mortis. "You're fucking crazy, Shane."

Staring right at the flashlight, Shane demands, "If you don't like us, turn it on."

Terror punches Ryan square in the chest, and pulverizes his ribcage. Despite his heart slamming the accelerator, and reaching newfound velocities, Ryan still can't move. Under his breath, Ryan desperately chants, "Please don't turn on, please don't-"

The flashlight turns on.

Ryan screams.

Shane laughs.

And Shane's still laughing days later when they're editing footage. It's late into the night, but Ryan's fueled by a fancy espresso drink crafted by Worth It, and Shane's fueled by hilarious memories of Ryan being a wreck.

"Just so you know-" Scowling at the screen, Ryan aggressively clicks the mouse. "You're a jackass."

First few times Shane tries to talk, there's only more laughter. He takes another sip of the espresso to calm down. "Joke's on you, 'cause I already knew that." With an amused grin, Shane rolls his chair closer, and nudges Ryan with his elbow. "But don't worry, man. It's not like we're ever going back to that house. We'll just have to look for your imaginary friends somewhere else."

Ryan's on the brink of firing a comeback about how they're not looking for imaginary friends, ghosts and demons are fucking real, the paranormal exists--

But Ryan's mind slams the freeze frame button, then replays the last few seconds. Shane's words echo on loop with every repeat pulling at another heartstring. Like when he's wandering through a haunted location, fear grips Ryan by the larynx. But his stubborn heart shoves Ryan towards something even more dangerous: hope.

As Ryan stares at Shane, shapes and colors blur into watercolor abstractions. Maybe it's from pulling god knows how many consecutive all-nighters. Or maybe it's from tears that Ryan struggles to hold back. "You'll keep doing Unsolved with me?"

The monitor's pale turquoise glow washes over Shane, but doesn't diminish the light in his eyes. "Yeah, buddy." Beyond the cheeky smile, there's genuine warmth. "I'll tag along for however long you want."

"Oh, fuck-- Fucking Hell. Goddamn, Jesus Christ- Dude-" It's not merely a breath of relief that escapes Ryan, but the happiest, purest wheeze. Ryan collapses forward on the desk, and buries his head into the crook of his arm. "I-" Muscles wind up with steel tension, then finally relax as anxiety stops skinning him alive. Faint echoes of a shattering sob carry through the exhale. Ryan's hand clenches into a tight fist while his sleeve muffles any crying. "Thank you, Shane."

A slow, simmering pyre unfurls inside of Shane's chest. He adores seeing Ryan light up about Unsolved, and explode with passion rivaling brilliant summer fireworks. For years, Shane's night skies have been void of any light. But here's Ryan ripping across the cold darkness like an extraordinary, defiant comet. It takes Shane's breath away how deeply Ryan loves Unsolved, and keeps fighting for the show everyday.

But as the person who spends most time with Ryan, Shane witnesses Ryan's brutal, merciless war with anxiety. It grows more severe, since the company clearly states this next episode will make or break Unsolved. Shane's hands still burn with the memory of holding Ryan through a panic attack, one hand against Ryan's chest to help him breathe, the other hand almost breaking in Ryan's desperate grip. It's the day they learn Unsolved may be sold off. Or just axed.

This episode's the last chance to keep Unsolved as their own. But an invisible guillotine still hovers ominously over the team's head, and Ryan feels entirely responsible.

Reaching over, Shane grasps Ryan's shoulder, and gives a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner that I want to stay. I-"

Acid douses every inch of Shane's body. Violin strings screech out-of-tune. Shane gnaws on the inside of his cheek, and focuses on the dull ache. Hidden under his clothes, all the ugliness swarms to life, and reminds Shane that he's just a walking graveyard. Nothing special. Nothing worthwhile.

Every scar hisses that if Unsolved gets axed, it's because Shane's too boring, too awkward, too dumb, too weird, Shane's not enough, Shane always fucks everything up. There's no fear when Shane talks to that flashlight in the Sallie House. But terror murders any sleep while Shane agonizes over Ryan resenting him for the rest of their lives. Maybe Ryan will even hate him.

Under his breath, Shane whispers, "I didn't know if you'd want me for another episode."

"Shane--" Heart jolting, Ryan raises his head. "I want you for every episode. This isn't just my show. It's our show." Quickly, Ryan wipes away the tears, so he can see Shane clearly. "And you don't need to apologize. I was the one that was scared to ask."

That insidious hissing grows louder, snarling that Ryan deserves someone better than Shane. A better co-host. A better friend. But Shane still reaches for Ryan's hand.

"Ryan, I'm always going to say yes to you," Shane promises with warm eyes. He nods at the screen that shows both of them sitting in the Sallie House's living room. In the paused frame, Ryan's throwing his head back with laughter, and Shane's smile softens his eyes into delighted crescent moons. "And dude, whether we only get to do one episode or one hundred, I'm fucking happy we did it together."

As Ryan laughs, the tears in his eyes only make them shine brighter. "Same here, man." His thumb brushes over Shane's scarred wrist. "No matter what, you've always got me."

An ocean of warmth floods the desolate void inside Shane. His body stops screaming for more skin to be split open. Ryan's caught glimpses of his scars, but there's never any judgement. Even the touch of Ryan's hand on the damage doesn't burn. It's the closest Shane feels daylight or rainfall on his skin that usually remains buried.

Grinning, Shane tousles Ryan's hair. "So, where do you wanna go next?"

The question reignites that brilliant, hungry light in Ryan's eyes. Beaming, Ryan pops open the desk drawer, and hauls out a massive three-ring binder. Vibrant, colorful tabs poke out from the stack of pages. "I got five more of these bad boys, but we could start with this one."

"Holy smokes, Bergara!" Shane flips through pages of neon highlighter and scrawling handwriting. The Queen Mary. Villisca Ax Murder House. The Vulture Mine. Shane's both impressed and endeared by the tremendous depth of research. He looks over at Ryan with a grin. "At this rate, Unsolved's never gonna end."

Laughing, Ryan returns that grin with a smirk. His heart's roaring to grab Shane's hand, and set off for a ghost hunt right now. "Dude, if it's with you, I'll do this forever."

Heaviness slams tenfold onto Ryan's chest once he lays down on the sofa. A battering ram pounds repeatedly into his sternum, and punches the oxygen out of his lungs. Every inhale grates jarringly at his ears louder than the EVP's static mayhem. Whether it's gravity or grief, an invisible force threatens to rip vital organs out of Ryan's body. He wonders if their absence will be felt when there's already a hollow abyss growing inside. While a parade of amorphous shadows dance upon the ceiling, Ryan tries to steady his breathing.

"This is it," Ryan whispers into the darkness. He wants to believe that he's talking to the spirits inside this house. But his own voice scratches down walls of the empty room, and mockingly hiss at him. "This is the last night."

With the solo investigations done, Ryan and Shane uphold Unsolved tradition by spending the night in separate areas. It's been a long while, since being alone feels so visceral for Ryan. Molten metal forges into shackles with spikes inside the cuffs, and punctures his body. Memories weigh down Ryan's bones until the sofa sculpts into an open coffin. Ryan can't even fall back onto distractions like browsing social media, or rechecking equipment for the sixth time. He'll spiral into the rabbit hole of watching old Unsolved videos, or play around with the EVP on the lowest volume.

Ryan's arm falls off the sofa, so he can brush his fingers across the ground. Despite how terrifying the Sallie House proves to be the second time, Ryan will miss this place. Maybe that's why he doesn't jump whenever a gust of wind rattles the windows. Or why he doesn't swear at abstract shadows rippling across the wall. The more Ryan desperately etches every detail into memory, the more his heart splits open with fraying veins.

"Tomorrow, the final investigation will be over. Unsol-" Ryan's voice splinters, but he's too numb to feel the syllables piercing his tongue. Even though darkness already swallows the room, Ryan covers his eyes with a hand. "--Unsolved will be over."

The words barely escape when Ryan locks them behind his teeth for too long. Ryan's throat strangles with the beginnings of a sob. A harsh exhale serrates the corners his mouth. "Fuck." Heartbreak excavates more of his chest until the man's gasping for air. "Fuck, goddamnit-" Traitorous tears scorch along the path of palm lines.

"Ry."

Ryan bites on the inside of his cheek to trap another sob inside. If that's anyone else's voice, Ryan would jump out of his skin, and blast the EVP to test the area for spirits. But he knows that voice even with his eyes closed. Ryan exhales shakily as warmth settles beside him, and strong arms pull him into a protective embrace.

"I'm sorry." The apology muffles against Ryan's hand, and bleeds across palm lines. "Fuck- I know I said I wasn't gonna break down tonight-- or ever- Sorry, Shane-"

"It's okay, dude." With a hand on his partner's back, Shane draws soothing invisible shapes. Infinity sign. 'W'. The Voyager Golden Record. "Honestly, I was starting to tear up in the other room." The curve of Shane's wry grin touches Ryan's forehead. "Even hugging all those dolls didn't stop me from crying."

"Christ-" As Ryan laughs, the heavy stones in his chest tumble out between rib bones. "You actually touched those dolls?"

"Sure did, babe. Just like this." Shane demonstrates by holding Ryan tighter, and squeezing out delighted wheezes. "You know I've done wilder things on this show."

"Of course, I know. I'm your best witness." Despite his attempts to sound exasperated, fondness colors Ryan's voice warmly. "I was there when you practically challenged the Goatman to a dance battle."

"Jeez, now you're just exaggerating," Shane scoffs. It's only because Shane's busy playing with Ryan's hair that he doesn't throw out wild hand gestures. "I was respectfully asking them to vacate the bridge, 'cause clearly it's ours." Before Ryan can debate this absolute truth, Shane kisses him. "But I'll keep the dance battle in mind for next time."

"You sonuva-" Ryan's about to banter back, then cuts himself off short. His smile falters with a brittle caricature of his usual laugh.

There isn't going to be a next time. The Ghoul Boys can't revisit Goatman's Bridge for another Unsolved episode, because this is the last one.

The finale.

The end. 

"Shane-" As his chest collapses to bury a sob, Ryan can only gasp out his partner's name.

But in-between the spaces of Ryan's cracking voice, Shane hears everything Ryan means to say. The same quiet grief burrows deep into Shane long before they talk about completing Unsolved. "I know, Ry." Holding Ryan tighter, Shane brushes his lips over the catastrophe of dark hair. Shane closes his eyes while letting go of a heavy exhale. "I feel it too."

Ryan buries his face more into the curve of Shane's neck and shoulder. "I don't regret ending Unsolved. But- fuck--" As subtle tremors wrack with tension, Ryan fights the earthquake emerging from his bones. But once Shane's fingers curl tighter into his shirt, Ryan unravels. This time, he can't fight the sob. It's loud and ugly even while stifling against the flannel. A flash flood of pent up tears break through. "-I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Shane laughs breathlessly through his own scorching surge of tears. "Nothing wrong with feeling this way. Just means we care a Hell lot about the show, and everyone that's part of it." Shane's fingers run through soft midnight waves. "Saying any kind of good-bye hurts. Damn-" Chuckling, Shane swipes at his face to rid the dampness brimming his eyes. "Sorry. I'm messing up the recording, yeah?"

"No, dude, it's cool. We can edit this later." Ryan helps with drying Shane's tears. "Anyways, it's not our first time crying on camera."

As Ryan's fingers caress his cheek, Shane kisses the calluses. "You mean like when we were cry-laughing at the Villa Montezuma Mansion?"

"You jackass!" Wheezing out a laugh, Ryan lightly punches Shane's shoulder. "I'm trying to have a moment here, and you're bringing that up?" His abdomen aches from the wheezes mutating into a delirious laughing fit.

"My bad, I didn't know you're trying to win an Oscar." Shane's still shaking from his own laughter. The joy's relentless like the mentioned episode when they nearly pass out in hysterics. "I can edit this part, so it's just us having an emotional moment with non-licensed background music."

"Really?" Playing along with the theatrics, Ryan gives some doe eyes, and bats his lashes. "You gonna add some soft glowing effects?" He sighs wistfully.

Shane smiles against one of Ryan's dimples. "Hell yeah, baby. Anything for you."

Grasping the side of his neck, Ryan pulls Shane closer until their lips touch. Shane returns the kiss warmly, and cradles the back of his partner's head. Newly surfacing smiles brush with another round of laughter. As their lips part, Shane's compelled to sneak a kiss onto Ryan's temple, his jaw, his pulse. At the last one aimed at his cheek, Ryan turns his head just in time to catch Shane's lips in a full kiss.

"I'm just--" While trying to catch his breath, Ryan rests their foreheads together. He doesn't fight the tears anymore. "So fucking grateful, y'know? Our fans, our team, our friends, everyone who helped make this happen. And--" Laughter spills out of Ryan like daylight breaking over the horizon. Even with the tears, there's only unbridled joy welling in his eyes. "And you, Shane."

Love clenches into a fist, and sucker punches Shane right in the chest, because goddamn-- Ryan never ceases to amaze him. Since the first day they met years ago, Ryan's so ridiculously earnest and bright that LA's cynicism deflects right off him. Ryan doesn't only wear his heart on his sleeve. He passes over his heart into Shane's hands, and trusts that Shane will take care of it.

Before Shane has a chance to say a word, Ryan gives him another kiss. Shane kisses back while pulling Ryan closer until he's laying half atop. Sobs and laughter catch between mouths. Ocean sadness and sunrise joy melt into twilight indigo. As their lips part, Shane scatters light kisses until Ryan's shaking against him with wheezes.

"I'm grateful as Hell to everyone too. No way this could've happened without all these fucking phenomenal people." Shane glides his hand from Ryan's hair to settle on the side of his neck. Fingers tap a morse code message they both know by heart. "Especially this guy who asked me to be part of Unsolved."

Inhaling sharply, Ryan's chest ruptures with a breathless sob. "Shane-" That memory bursts with a brilliant flurry of sparks. Ryan still feels echoes of those days when he's breaking apart at the seams, and panic attacks prowl under his skin. But the white noise storm quietens when Shane smiles at him, and says yes to Unsolved.

"He wasn't just any guy." Tears crackle at the edges of Shane's soft laughter. "Even when I was about to give up on myself, he kept fighting for me." In the vast darkness, Shane reaches for Ryan's hand. Running water and humming air vents reverberate around them. Like back in that hotel bathroom, Shane holds on tightly as their fingers intertwine. "He stayed."

Ryan traces his thumb over the scarred lines, and memorizes the pulse fighting bravely in those veins. "Shane, I'd never leave you." Tilting his head, Ryan brushes a kiss across Shane's cheek. A tremor catches Ryan's heart as Shane caresses his neck, and draws an invisible line. "And when I needed to figure things out, you waited for me. I-" Ryan buries his face into Shane's shoulder. Those days of being torn apart from each other haunt Ryan more than any paranormal investigation. "I was so fucking lost, but you let me come back home."

"Ryan, you are my home." Bringing Ryan into a slow kiss, Shane guides him back to shore, and wipes away stray tears. "Same for me, 'cause I was sure lost as Hell. And I never thought I--" A searing burn lances across his chest. The chambers of his heart freeze. "That I'd be-"

Shane isn't hesitant from knowing that cameras and recorders are still running. But on any given day, Shane stumbles over these words, because they feel too good to be true. Somewhere in ancient catacombs built by old ghosts, there's the fear that Shane doesn't deserve to say such words. Survival instincts crank up to max by turning Shane to stone, and stealing his voice.

But now, Shane stops trying to bury that fear, that anxiety, that depression, that darkness under the floorboards, and burn the house down while trapping himself inside. Instead Shane brings the darkness into his arms. Shadows cascade away until Shane's holding that frightened, lost, young boy whose wounds mirror his scars.

After a deep breath, Shane confesses, "I'm clean."

Every color in existence rushes into his being. He's here. He's alive. Shane's breathless, bright laugh tastes pure as Ryan surges in fiercely for an adoring kiss. Tears catch at the corners of their mouths. The kiss deepens as bodies press close, and heartbeats fall in sync.

For most of his life, that bloodthirsty phantom grips Shane by the throat, and drags him into the ocean. Like sharks biding their time, sharp objects and fingernails sing a siren call in the distance. But finally, fucking finally-- it doesn't haunt Shane everyday.

"I couldn't have gotten this far without you." Tears dwell at the edges of Shane's eyes, but nothing can hold back that smile. "Thank you, Ryan."

"Jesus Christ-" Ryan takes hold of Shane's face in his hands. Too much love swells inside, so some of it spills over as tears. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

As Ryan kisses him again, Shane stops taking an axe to the dilapidated house inside his chest. Instead of smashing furniture, and overflowing the bathtub, he'll change the lights. No more breaking windows. The snow daffodils Ryan plants into window sills deserve better than that. Shane will get rid of rotting wallpaper, and paint the walls in forgiving blue, so he never forgets the color of the sky again.

"Do you want me to go back to the other room?" Chuckling, Shane glances over to where the stairs wait around the corner. "Should I try snuggling with the dolls some more to conjure spirits?"

"No." With a huff, Ryan holds Shane tighter. "Stay. You're mine."

"Goddamn-" Endeared beyond belief, Shane covers his face as he laughs. "The only time you get jealous is when I'm trying to cozy it up with supposedly haunted dolls?" Another peal of laughter tumbles out when Ryan lightly swats at him.

After fixing the blankets, Ryan rests his head on Shane's chest to listen for that heartbeat. Shane reaches for his partner's hand. Neither of them sleep. It's not the fear of possible demons, or saying good-bye to Unsolved that keeps them up all night. They're too busy sharing stories that spark fits of wheezing laughter, along with a few tears in-between.

Hands clasped together, they watch rays of morning light trickle inside.

"Alright, folks!" Shane flashes a bright grin at the camera, and slaps the wooden table. "We've got another question from Gram Town." Clearing his throat, Shane looks at phone with the document of compiled questions. His other hand reaches for the mug to take a well-timed sip. "Hopefully, Ryan pasted the entire question instead of cutting off the last few words."

"You jackass." Ryan waits until Shane sets down the mug to elbow him. No need to spill coffee on the Unsolved desk. "You're the one who didn't copy and paste the entire question last time."

"Got evidence, Bergara?"

"Actually, I do, Madej. I'll link you the video later."

"Go ahead." Shane's smirk doesn't falter the slightest. "Too bad you can't show any proof about the paranormal." 

Shane barks out a laugh as if he delivered the most brilliant, wittiest punchline of the century. For all the Shaniacs, he throws a victorious fist into the air.

Ryan deadpans the camera. 

Chuckling, Shane returns his attention to the screen. "Oh, looks like this one's for you..." His voice trails off while silently reading the question.

The phone nearly falls out of Shane's sudden loose grip. His nervous laugh pitches higher, then breaks in the middle.

"Actually, let's skip that one." The upbeat, relaxed air Shane settles into on camera unravels before he can catch any of the loose threads. Unknowingly, Shane's elbows lock at his sides as if he's trying to take up less space.

But Shane still laughs to distract everyone from the rapidly growing forest fire. "It's not really about Unsolved. We can edit this part out."

"Shane, babe, it's okay." With the question burned into his mind, Ryan sets his phone down. He leans closer to Shane until their shoulder touch. "If you're comfortable with asking, I want to answer. This has everything to do with Unsolved."

A protest swarming behind Shane's teeth tries to crawl out. But the words dissolve once Shane feels Ryan's hand rests on his thigh. A thumb brushes over dark gray denim in slow, comforting strokes. The Unsolved desk's blocked off in the front, so no one can see how Ryan anchors Shane.

But maybe people will catch a glimpse of tension easing out of Shane's shoulders. Or the pensive shadows under his eyes softening. Or how Shane lets go of the black mug, so he doesn't almost snap off the ceramic handle.

While holding their gazes, Shane strives to match Ryan's steadfast breathing. Shane draws in another deep breath, then reads from his phone.

"Ryan, what do you love about Shane?"

Shane can stay in the pitch black Well Room at Bobby Mackey's for hours, and not feel the smallest flicker of unease. After tiring himself out by belting operatic renditions of early 2000's alternative rock, and taunting the (nonexistent) paranormal entities, Shane may take a nap there.

He should feel even more relaxed in the Unsolved Post Mortem set, surrounded by a crew he trusts, and sitting right beside his partner. But after reading that question out loud, Shane cycles through every exit in this building, and maps out a hundred escape routes. Cyanide injects through his veins, and reaches his fingertips. Shane can only sit still while being devoured by a horde of parasitic fears. 

'What if Ryan realizes there isn't anything about me to love?', 'What if Ryan acknowledges that he can do better than me?', 'What if Ryan finally sees that I'm not enough?', 'What if Ryan falls out of love with me?', 'What if Ryan leaves me?', 'What if-'

"I love his laugh." Ryan wheezes along to the chorus of memories playing in his mind. A burst of sunlight, Ryan follows that warm sound, turns the corner to see the other intern. Trading smiles across the room, not even knowing each other's names yet, but feeling less alone. 2AM phone calls where there's soft wheezes between recaps of The X-Files, childhood stories, lessons from Carl Sagan, never remembering who falls asleep first. "Even before we started working in the same team, I was always listening for Shane."

Glancing over, Ryan sees Shane trying to hide his burning face with a hand. Shane can stare Ryan down during the most heated roasts, and volley bantering remarks all day. But it endears Ryan endlessly how his partner still flusters from compliments.

"And I know Shane goes out of his way to make me laugh in Unsolved. It's why I don't black out much as I probably would during scary as fuck ghost hunts." Ryan fixes his partner's shirt collar. It's already perfectly crisp, but the gesture lets Ryan's knuckles brush under Shane's jaw. "Y'know how there's someone in the world whose voice you can listen to, and everything feels okay?"

Waiting for eternity in the airport line, Shane murmuring impromptu jokes into Ryan's ear, and distracting Ryan from terrors about the upcoming pitch meeting. Trapped in LA traffic while driving back from Long Beach, no chance to agonize over losing time to edit videos, because Shane's singing along with Gerard Way, Amy Lee, and Corey Taylor. Those nights bleeding into the morning when anxiety shackles Ryan's wrist, and Shane holds his other hand.

"Apart from Shane having the best laugh, being fucking smart enough to be at JPL, and just all-around charming-" Shaking his head incredulously, Ryan gestures at his partner. "--I thought this guy was goddamned insane. Most people go from 0 to 10. Shane goes to 100. He spends so many late nights doing the most detailed, wildest, fucking beautiful work in AfterEffects or Cinema 4D or whatever complicated as Hell program he uses. And Shane does that, because he really cares about you." Ryan looks at the camera with a warm smile, and slight glimmer of tears in his eyes. "Our Ghouligans. The best fans ever." Grinning, Ryan turns towards Shane. "Right, dude?"

"Totally." Shane returns Ryan's grin with a fond smile. He feels the burn of rising tears, but doesn't give into the urge to hide face anymore. Although there's nervousness about revealing vulnerability on camera, Shane finally looks at the lens.

"For a long while, sometimes even now-" Shane's eyes flicker elsewhere. A tremor ripples through his voice falling into a near whisper. "I don't know if I'm good enough to be on this show." As Ryan takes his hand, Shane breathes deep, and looks back at the camera. "But you kept believing in me. Thank you."

Ryan raises their clasped hands, and kisses Shane's knuckles. The mic barely catches his soft whisper, "Shane, you're more than enough." He presses one more kiss onto his partner's ring finger.

"Honestly-" Laughing under his breath, Ryan shakes his head. "There's so much outside of Unsolved that's scarier. More than demons, ghosts, possessed dolls." His mind flashes with an amber lit restaurant. A dusty hotel room where moth eaten curtains are the same muted, burgundy as the fading carpet. Shane daring to let Ryan through the door, and see him even with broken plates of armor on the bathroom floor. "Shane's the bravest person I know. So fucking brave that I started thinking maybe I can be little braver too."

"Damnit, Ry-" Shane's resolve folds as his other hand tries to shield his face. Breathless, Shane struggles to hold his voice steady. "Why the Hell are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" Laughing brightly, Ryan grins at his partner. "Broadcasting how freaking amazing you are?"

Shane tries to escape the set. But he's not going anywhere when Ryan holds his hand tighter.

"So, yeah-" Wiping at his eyes, Ryan beams at their future audience. "I could go on about this guy forever. 'cause Jesus Christ-" As Ryan stares at Shane, and he's reminded that someone like this man exists, the air punches out of his lungs. "I really fucking love you."

The chair skids as Shane moves closer, and grasps the side of Ryan's neck. Ryan catches the front of Shane's shirt while being pulled into that irresistible gravity. Lips collide to meld together. On camera, they share light, playful kisses every now and then. But this kiss burns slowly, smoldering with devotion and love, full of hope for the future. The crew's chorus of cheers and applause explodes in the room.

As the kiss breaks, Shane keeps an arm around Ryan. "Hey, Ghouligans--" Shane smiles at the cameras, and fires a classic finger gun. "Can one of y'all ask me what I love about Ryan for the next Post Mortem?"

"No, don't do that! Nobody send that question!" Ryan shouts with a flaring gasp. But his words muffle in Shane's chest as his boyfriend hugs him. "You goddamned sonuva-"

As they playfully rough house, the chairs tilt over, and they nearly fall out. Ryan manages to cover his partner's mouth. But Shane's laugh still bursts warmly. Feeling vibrations of that laughter against his palm, Ryan can't help but smile.

"Can't believe you destroyed the EVP."

If From Under the Cork Tree wasn't blasting through the van, Ryan's remark might've earned a round of laughter from the team. But it's only Shane who hears Ryan as they sit in the back row. Ryan partly sits on Shane's lap, since they're sharing the seats with some equipment, and their backpacks.

Part of Shane's tempted to feign remorse, but he's too busy preening. Shane thrives off the victory adrenaline of smashing that ridiculous, pseudo-science device on the ground. Grinning, Shane glances over at Ryan. "You mad?"

"Hell no." Ryan smiles back in amusement. "After all these years of ghost hunting, you earned it. Anyways-" The smile curves wickedly to border on feral. "Y'know I've got a whole collection of EVPs at home, baby."

"Of course, I know. It takes up a whole shelf." Shane scoffs out a laugh, but the faux exasperation only lasts for so long. It's entertaining to watch Steven spend a whole hour at that shelf, and try not to implode his science major brain with ghost hunting toys. "Not that I mind though, since you're cool with my VHS collec-..." 

As Shane's voice dies out, the last few acidic syllables corrode across his tongue. Noise dials down to the lowest volume until everything sounds faraway, and reverberates underwater. The team's voices distort into crackling white static of clashing harmonies. By heart, Shane can recite the chorus of Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year, but now, the lyrics are spliced soundbites of unknown languages. The van feels too small, metal walls crushing, warping, tearing apart in a junkyard scrap compactor. Color drains from Shane's sight as the world bleeds morose, bleak hues.

On the surface, Shane's a little quieter than usual. People may assume the tiredness comes from filming late into the night. But for Ryan who's familiar with Shane's language, he catches silent cues. The subtle flicker of apprehension in Shane's dim eyes. Thumb running over the edge of his fingernails to feel whispers of scratches. Not breathing for several beats, then suddenly inhaling roughly. Tension fossilizing his shoulders into hard stone.

Shane isn't looking at Ryan, but past him, and out the window. Following Shane's line of sight, Ryan doesn't see anything unusual or alarming. Just a few business establishments here and there. The forsaken skeleton of a gas station with yellow paint sun bleached from their logo. A plaza with a thrift store, a deli plus convenience store combo, and a massive laundromat empire.

But an uncomfortable sense of familiarity scratches inside Ryan. Before Ryan can talk to Shane, a teammate suggests they stop at that upcoming restaurant for a quick bite. 

Panic fissures through Ryan as recognition slams a metal crowbar into his gut. It knocks a lung out, but he's too stunned to make a noise. Ryan studies the restaurant looming on the horizon. In broad daylight, the restaurant's even more daunting than the Sallie House during pitch black night. 

Shane rarely talks in detail about what happened inside the restaurant, or his ex-partner in general. It's not that Shane lacks trust in Ryan. But Ryan won't demand Shane to rip open wounds, and dive deep into those experiences if it does more harm than good. Just like how Ryan feels a thousand knives stab his insides if he tries talking about that Hellfire period with his family, nearly losing his brother, the hideous history of past partners, and other ghost stories that still haunt him.

As the van turns into the parking lot, wheels sing a death requiem by loudly crunching across loose gravel. Ryan's panic cranks higher. "Wait, actually-"

"Jeez, I'm starving, y'all!" Shane shouts above the guitar melody. His hand rests over Ryan's, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "That restaurant's a great idea. I don't think Mickey D's at the airport's gonna cut it."

A round of agreeing hums rumble through the van. Everyone's eager to eat before waiting eternally in airport purgatory. The crew walks towards the restaurant with Shane and Ryan following few steps behind.

Sallie House. Pythian Castle. Moon River Brewing. Send Shane to any of the Unsolved locations during the dead of night, and he'll waltz right in whistling. Shane will even sleep on a dusty floor while a thunderstorm rattles the windows, and the building creaks at odd times.

When Shane and Ryan take Steven to the Viaduct Tavern, Shane wholeheartedly understands Steven being calm in that absolute darkness. If Shane wasn't shouting to provoke spirits, he would stand silently in the shadows as well. There's a rare sense of peace while feeling himself blend into that tranquil space. No burdensome thoughts. No screaming scars.

Shane can simply exist.

But as Shane approaches this family-friendly restaurant, everything warps into fish-eye lens perspective, and the scent of smoke rises. He barely remembers any of the restaurant's exterior other than a few details. The hanging 'OPEN' sign with a smiley face in the 'O'. A cobalt blue roof that Shane recalls looking rough around the edges with chipping fragments. But now, it gleams proudly with a new coat of paint. Shane's uncertain if the outdoor dining area had strings of fairy lights, or if they're a new addition. Too much of the restaurant's exterior obscures in Shane's memory. The hazy photograph never fully develops with vivid, pristine clarity. Even the film negative's damaged with scratches, and threaten to dissolve if Shane looks too closely.

When someone up ahead opens the front door, Shane catches a glimpse inside. Wooden tables with glossy varnish. Soft amber lighting. Rustic decor like various State license plates, street signs, and framed monochromatic photographs of the city. A cheerful 80's track waves through the chattering commotion. The glance inside the restaurant lasts only for a few seconds before the door swings shut.

And yet it's more than enough to slam a freight train into Shane, and drag his body against scorching metal tracks. Heaving, Shane lays on a field of rusted fish hooks and crimson scalpels with his rib cage split open.

Shane doesn't remember what he ordered last time. But he sees their table against the window, and how the fork nearly slips out of his hand once hearing that unmistakable laugh. It rips open every scar hidden under Shane's clothes, talons catch at flesh and capillaries, an invisible hand grips his arm hard enough to bruise, that laugh clashes with broken shirt buttons clattering across the ground, Shane needs to erase himself, so he can't feel this anymore, his body's on fucking fire, but Shane has to stay silent, be invisible while sitting few tables down from his ex.

Before Shane takes another step forward, Ryan grabs his hand.

"Shane, are you okay with doing this?" Ryan looks up at his partner with concern. "It's totally fine if you don't. We can go somewhere else while rest of the team eats here. No one's going to be upset." Ryan brushes his thumb over Shane's knuckles in reassuring strokes. The conviction burning in Ryan's eyes rages strongly like years ago in that bathroom. "No matter what you choose, I'm with you."

As the fire reaches up to his throat, Shane returns his wary stare to the front door. It's true that Shane can turn around, and step away from this. There's nothing wrong with choosing to protect himself.

When other customers open the door to step inside, Shane hears the tail-end of a friend giving a joke's punchline. Laughter rises like a tidal wave before the door swings shut again. Even while standing outside, Shane feels those flickers of joy scatter in the air, and dance around him like summer fireflies. The muted red bricks and smiley face in the OPEN sign blurs as Shane blinks through tears.

Shane isn't a stranger to this feeling. Capillaries twisting tighter inside his chest with every inhale. Daring to move to the West Coast. Not to chase after dreams, but for the last shot at making sense of why he's still alive. The first time Shane talks with Eugene and Andrew at a party, sharing drinks and stories on a broken sofa, something inside of Shane screeches at him to run. While Ryan's kept outside the bathroom, Shane's scars scream at him to lock the door. Ryan asking him to be part of Unsolved, but Shane's mind hisses a million reasons why he's not good enough. The night Ryan confesses he wants to spend the rest of their lives together, and Shane stops breathing.

But something stubborn and brave helps Shane to stay on that broken sofa. He opens up to two people who will become his best friends, and discovers he's not alone with being haunted. Shane lets Ryan into the bathroom, into the ugliest, most fucked up parts of himself, and Ryan kisses him. Shane says yes to Unsolved, yes to running headfirst towards fear, yes to embarking on an adventure into the unknown, yes to creating something extraordinary with the man he loves. And Shane reaches across the bed, taking Ryan's hand into his, confessing he used to not see himself in the future. Now, Shane can imagine his silhouette existing tomorrow, and sees himself standing beside Ryan.

With a deep breath, Shane nods at the door. "Yeah, I want to do this." Shane laces their fingers together, and holds Ryan's hand tighter. Shane's heart races a frantic pace that accelerates by the second. "How does it go again?" As Shane looks at his partner, the smile reaches his eyes. "I am not my fear."

Shock widens Ryan's stare, but it lasts only for a moment as overwhelming love crashes in. Fond eyes softening, Ryan holds Shane's hand, and returns that smile. "I am stronger than my fear."

With Ryan's hand in his, Shane leads the way towards the door. They join the rest of their team at few small tables lined up together. Since Shane's already this far in the restaurant, he bites the bullet, and takes the seat with his back facing the open area. In the opposite seat, Ryan smiles at Shane from across the table.

They eat. Crack jokes. Laugh with some wheezes between wry grins and playful banter. Share heartwarming and hilarious anecdotes about Unsolved. Talk with exhilarated hope about Watcher.

Later as Shane steps outside, the sky's still blue, his scars remain quiet, and he's okay. All the tears he fought earlier suddenly break free with a fit of laughter.

Ryan takes Shane's face into his hands, and pulls him closer until lips reunite. The searing kiss deepens with hints of warm smiles brushing. Ryan's heart threatens to implode while his chest swells with pride and love. As Shane embraces Ryan, he holds the whole universe right here in his arms. Even once the kiss breaks, Shane keeps his partner close, and buries his face against soft dark hair.

Right over that precious pulse, Ryan whispers, "I'm so fucking proud of you."

Shane laughs breathlessly. "Is this how you feel after surviving a ghost hunt?" More laughter wheezes out when Ryan playfully shoves him. Shane catches Ryan in his arms, and kisses his cheek.

When someone shouts for the couple, Shane throws Ryan over his shoulder, and carries Ryan towards the van. Ryan's startled yelp gives way to laughing swears as Shane runs.

Vibrations of a cosmic synthesizer pulse through the door handle, and jolt up Shane's arm as he opens the door. Shane holds onto Ryan's hand to guide him into the packed house party. Along with the tsunami of neon magenta, a gust of chaotic noise blasts at Shane and Ryan. Thunderous sound waves of a magical Dan Deacon track shakes the walls relentlessly. People scream Wham City at the top of their lungs, and passionately stomp to the beat. They holler at each other even while being inches close, just so voices carry. Once someone announces they're back from a BevMo! and Taco Bell run, everyone cheers the return of a true hero.

"Goddamn-" Ryan's amused laugh brushes across Shane's arm. "And I thought we got here early."

"We did, since it's before midnight." Scanning over the crowd, Shane lets out a whistle. "I swear, it's like all of LA's here."

Venturing deeper into the house, they see people laughing and/or crying into their beer (or other choice of drink.) Nobody's officially calling this a send off party. But everyone knows tonight's for the growing wave of people who put in their two weeks, or recently left Buzzfeed. There's an undercurrent of sadness, but the euphoria and 'fuck yeah!' energy rages louder than the Yellow Claw remix.

In the distance, Shane sees the kitchen with a table of bottles, cans, and custom mixed pitchers. Shane squeezes Ryan's hand. "You want something to drink?"

"Totally! That'd be awesom..." Glancing at his vibrating phone, Ryan's smile smudges away. He touches the small of Shane's back. "Sorry, I need to take this call. I'll be back real quick."

Thorns of worry scratch under Shane's skin. But as Ryans lean up for a kiss, Shane meets his partner halfway. "Yeah, of course, dude." He squeezes Ryan's hand one more time before letting go. "Text, call or holler if you need anything."

"Thanks, babe." Ryan grabs the front of Shane's shirt, and pulls him down for one more kiss. It's a little rougher with Ryan's teeth tugging on Shane's lower lip. As the kiss breaks, Ryan's grin curves into a playful smirk. "Try not to cause too much trouble."

Shane laughs while fighting the urge to swoon. It's damned near impossible when his boyfriend's so charming. "I'll wait until you're back."

After Ryan disappears into the crowd, Shane finds his way to the kitchen. He means to grab two cans. But Adam shoves a dangerously large bottle of Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey into Shane's arms. Before Shane can protest, Adam hugs him for a good minute, pats him on the back, then sends him off.

Shane appreciates the heartfelt gift, but this bottle's way too much for only Ryan and himself. While going through the party, and looking for a secluded place, Shane pours the socially acceptable gasoline into people's cans, bottles, red SOLO cups, chipped coffee mugs, and bedazzled tin flasks.

Just as Shane finishes refilling someone's neon green water gun, his eyes lock with Eugene's gaze across the room. Shane hasn't even had a sip of alcohol yet, but vertigo tilts the floor, and melancholy ruptures his ribcage. Ever since the late night drive when Eugene shares that he's leaving, Shane carries an empty heaviness. The hollow void carves out the center of his body. It keeps growing as rest of The Try Guys say they're leaving as well.

On the surface, Shane's his usual upbeat self at the office. But at night while Shane holds his partner, and Ryan's tears dampen his shirt, Shane feels that emptiness sink deeper, pulling him down into a cold ocean where the light doesn't reach. Of course, Shane and Ryan are ecstatic for their bestfriends. But no matter how many more people leave, the goodbyes never get any easier.

Shakily, Shane manages to pull on a smile. But once Eugene smiles back ruefully, Shane holds the whiskey tighter. A final crack rips across Shane's glass torso, and leaves him gasping in the destructive aftermath.

They meet in the center of a massive crowd, arms reaching out, finding each other. It's not a fleeting, one-armed hold with a pat on the back. It's a tight, bone aching embrace with fingers curling into fabric, breath hitching with simmering emotions. One of them should lighten the air with their shared coping mechanism of sardonic humor.

But any joke erodes into ashes on Shane's tongue. Even if Shane takes a swig now, the liquor burn can't wash away the acerbic sadness. "Gene-" As Shane grasps the back of Eugene's shirt tighter, he feels that he should apologize for straining the fabric. "I'm going to really fucking miss you."

Eugene keeps his face hidden against Shane's shoulder. Although growing more emotionally open over the years, Eugene still prefers showing his tears only to the people closest to him. And Shane knows this. Everyone around them is too wasted to even spare Eugene and Shane a glance. But Shane still holds Eugene closer, and shields the man with his body. As gratitude washes over Eugene, more tears burn behind his closed eyes.

"Same, dude. I'm going to miss you a Hell lot." Eugene holds Shane tightly as if they'll both incinerate any moment. Every warning siren screeches like a banshee that Eugene should reinforce the steel walls, and back pedal out of here. But he refuses to shut out his bestfriend, especially while feeling silent devastation shake Shane's frame.

"I can't thank you enough for everything." Eugene exhales against Shane's shoulder. "You cared about me even when I didn't give a damn about myself." The early days when Eugene's secretly going off the rails, desperately distracting himself from pain, and he drunk calls at 3AM, Shane always answers. Often with Andrew driving, Shane finds Eugene at whatever club or party, and they take him home. Shane and Andrew are there even when Eugene's fucking losing it after the near falling out with Zach. "And I'll always be grateful for Ryan and you taking care of Zach back then."

"Hey, all of us take care of each other, right?" Grinning, Shane playfully bumps Eugene's arm with a loose fist. He still feels the faint singe of faraway tears. Every time Shane takes a breath, his lungs rustle around so much that tears almost spill over. "Honestly, Gene, I couldn't be happier for you guys. Can't imagine how fucking scary it is going off into the unknown. But you're all smart as Hell, hearts in the right place, and got each other's backs. And y'know--" Shane holds out the whiskey with a smile. "All of us here believe in you."

Eugene's laughter hardly covers the breaking in his voice. But tonight, he doesn't fight it. He twists off the signature siren red bottle cap, then takes a drink without flinching at the burn. "Thanks, Madej." Smirking, Eugene passes the bottle back. "And I mean for more than just that Devil's drink. Kinda amazed you're still poisoning yourself with that."

"Bold of you to assume I'd ever betray this darling." Shane takes his first drink of the night, and welcomes the taste of Dante's Inferno scorching down. "It's what we drank at our first party."

"And we'll drink it at the next party too." After accepting another sip, Eugene steps closer. There's no chance anyone in their vicinity can hear them, but Eugene plays it safe by talking near Shane's ear. "Think Ryan and you might go somewhere else?"

"Mm, not just going somewhere else, but-" Shane tilts the bottle back. After brushing the back of his hand across his mouth, Shane reveals a smile. "We'll create something else. Something better."

As the realization slowly dawns upon him, Eugene smiles. "Fucking Hell, man!" He claps Shane's hand, and pulls him in for another hug. "You're going to do amazing, Shane. Whenever the time comes, reach out to us. We're here for you too."

"Thanks, Gene." Returning the embrace, Shane feels the glacier of sadness melt, and serene warmth pour into the void.

"Shane!"

Before Shane has a chance to turn around, Zach tackles him in a hug. Mimicking the tremendous force of that affection, a wave of tears crash into Shane.

"Hey, there. You goddamned beautiful human being." Shane wraps an arm around Zach for a wrenching hug, and leans down to say, "I'm so proud of you, Zach." As Shane stands back to full height, he sees those vibrant blues tearing up. "If you cry, then I'm gonna cry."

"Dude, how could I not cry after you say something like that?" Zach's caught somewhere between tears and laughter. He leans into Eugene's touch while tears are wiped away. With a smile, Zach takes Eugene's hand into his. Violet neon rays reflect off their matching rings.

"Are you guys seriously crying without us?" Grinning, Keith throws an arm around Eugene's shoulders. His eyes light up while Shane refills his sprinkle donut mug with alcohol. "I've got plenty more tears to shed, baby. We gonna do this again like at In-n-Out last week?"

In sync with everyone else, Shane tilts his drink back. "Totally, man. Sign me up for that any day."

Shane can't remember who texted the group chat about a spontaneous, late-night food run. But Andrew took the wheel, Zach popped in the Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge CD, and they all cried over burgers huddled around an outdoor table. There's delirious laughter by the time fries are being dipped into shakes.

After trading hugs with The Try Guys, Shane searches the party for Ryan. He weaves his way through the packed crowd until reaching the outdoor patio. Shane's heart lightens at the sight of Ryan perched on the deck railing. But worry wells up once reading the slanting lines of Ryan's shoulders, and pensive eyes gazing out into the murky streets. As Ryan draws in a heavy breath, distress etches across his face. It only urges Shane to reach Ryan faster.

"Hey, babe." Shane circles an arm around Ryan, and kisses his temple. "What happened?"

Ryan's hum slightly muffles against his partner's chest. A lull of silence wavers between them while Ryan watches cars passing by. Headlights gleam across the dozens of enamel pins and buttons on Ryan's denim jacket. "Since it's getting around that so many people leaving, he was saying I should leave too." Hollow exhaustion carves out every word. "Maybe quit YouTube all together. Go make 'real' work."

While tightening the embrace, Shane breathes slowly to steady himself. He won't demand Ryan to name this person, since Shane already gets a sense of who it is. Ryan doesn't need Shane to declare war, and hunt this person down. What matters most right now is Shane being here for Ryan.

Shifting where he stands, Shane shields Ryan from anyone else in the area. "How do you feel about all that?"

Ryan reaches for the bottle, and takes a decent swig. "Guilty." He grimaces, but it's not from the bristling burn of liquor. "Feeling guilty that I still haven't blocked his number. It's not fair to you. Fuck. Damnit-" Heaving another sigh, Ryan roughly runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Shane."

"Hey, it's okay. You don't need to apologize for anything." Shane grasps Ryan's shoulder to slowly massage the tension out. "I support whatever you choose to do. All I'm worried about is how this affects you. But I'm not upset with you or anything like." Leaning down, Shane kisses Ryan's forehead, and exhales softly. "I love you."

"Love you too, Shane. So damned much." As Ryan leans against Shane, his words brush along the curve of the man's neck and shoulder. "Thanks for being here for me."

"Any time, dude." Shane rests his hand on Ryan's waist. A question that's been simmering for a long time finally rises to the surface. Holding his breath, Shane looks into Ryan's eyes. "Do you want to leave Buzzfeed?"

Ryan's heart jolts. For a while, they've been talking around that question. Tonight's the first time Shane outright asks if Ryan wants to leave the company. Hearing those words doesn't knock the wind out of Ryan like he expects. Windows don't shatter with an explosive cacophony of fragments. The moon doesn't crash into the earth. LA doesn't burn down to the ground, and send flames all over Southern California.

There's just more cars passing by in the street. Neighboring houses rage to their own parties. Everyone in the living room yells with Mr. Brightside as someone gets the disco ball working.

Rainbow kaleidoscope rays shine through the windows, and paint across Shane. Even with the lights reflecting off the silver buttons and zipper of his black leather jacket, Shane's eyes shine brighter. The sight renders Ryan breathless. Ryan places his hand over Shane's, and their fingers slot together with ease.

"Not yet, but someday-- I want to leave." Ryan exhales shakily. No longer trapping that truth inside makes room for tremendous air. It feels like breaking through the ocean's surface after drowning for so long. "What about you?"

Standing between Ryan's legs, Shane moves closer, and cradles the side of his face. Untamed mayhem erupts beyond the windows, giving a glimpse of madness and joy clashing beautifully. A mosh pit honoring a nostalgic anime nightcore mix. People throwing off their shirts. Fistfuls of glitter soaring across the air like shooting stars. A massive second wave of guests flooding in.

But that chaos fades away for Ryan and Shane. In this moment, only they exist.

"It's the same for me." Closing his eyes, Shane leans down until their foreheads touch. "And I know it's fucking terrifying, but if you want-" Shane opens his eyes, and smiles with hope roaring inside. "We can do it together."

"Hell yeah, baby." Returning that smile, Ryan wraps his arms around Shane's shoulders, and pulls him closer for a kiss.

While waiting to board the plane, Shane and Ryan catch up on Worth It and The Try Guys videos on Ryan's phone. Ryan rests his head on Shane's shoulder, and smiles at the vibrations every time Shane laughs. A text message notification flashes on the screen.

( gavin: )  Hey, Ryan. Heard you're officially ending Unsolved soon. We should...

Ryan doesn't stop breathing. 

His blood doesn't run cold.

He doesn't succumb to the urge of hurling his phone at the ground, stomping on the screen, punching his fist through it, and throwing the phone out the window.

But Ryan feels Shane's hand on his shoulder tighten.

"Shane, it's okay." Ryan touches Shane's knee as a gentle, reassuring gesture. He breathes out slowly. "I'm okay."

The text message preview slides out of frame. Right after the next video starts to play, more notifications slide down in rapid-fire succession, layering over the screen.

( gavin: ) Also heard you're doing this Watcher thing. That's not a smart investment...

( gavin: ) You can't keep trapping yourself in a mediocre platform like YouTube when...

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Shane hisses under his breath. The last of his waning patience snaps. "You don't deserve this kind of bullshit. Who the Hell does he think he is talking to you like this?" In an attempt to calm down, Shane lets out a ragged breath. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

Ryan turns Shane's face away from the screen, even though there's a flood of more message previews. "I appreciate that, but I'm okay. Really." Laughing at the situation's sheer absurdity, Ryan shakes his head. "This- It's just-- Christ, it's really fucking funny-"

A wheeze shakes Ryan's body. All the pent up anxiety, broken sutures, and charred splinters from an old coffin tumbles out. Ryan looks back at the phone screaming with a torrent of notifications. For years, any notification, or even just seeing that name floating somewhere online fired a gunshot at Ryan's chest.

But now, the bullets can't even reach him. Ryan doesn't know when the hurt stops. Or when he stops being terrified of a hand reaching through the screen, and ripping out his throat. All Ryan knows is that he doesn't need this in his life anymore. He never did.

Ryan taps a few times on the screen, then finally blocks his ex. "Goddamn." He lets out a breath that's been trapped inside for years. The wavering, awed exhale picks up into a laugh of relief. "Would you believe me if I said that was harder than going through the Rolling Hills Hospital?"

"Only Rolling Hills?" Grinning, Shane squeezes Ryan in a hug. "I'd say that beats staring right into the empty eyes of Annabelle. And I'm saying empty, because it's just a doll."

"Bro, there's totally a demon in there," Ryan insists while leaning more into Shane. His chest trembles with the exhilaration of feeling so free. "Thanks, Shane." Ryan slides his hand into Shane's, and intertwines their fingers together. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Of course, dude." Shane kisses Ryan's temple, and holds hims closer. "I'm proud of you, Ry. You did fucking great."

Ryan turns his head in time for a kiss. As he leans back, the terminal announces they're boarding the plane. Ryan stands up, and hold his hand out. "C'mon, let's go home."

As Shane looks up, the airport melts away into that late night at the office. Dark circles weigh under Ryan's eyes, and his clothes fall loosely on his slighter frame. But whether it's years ago as Ryan asks Shane to join Unsolved, or today as they go home, Ryan's smile burns bright.

And with a heart feeling so damned full, Shane takes Ryan's hand.

"Shane."

"Yeah?"

"Now. We do this now, dude. I can feel it."

The scratching of the blue color pencil abruptly halts. Setting down the pencil, Shane looks away from the desk covered in sketches, and every Jim Henson book he owns. Once Shane sees the hints of tears in Ryan's eyes, his chest aches deeply.

"Yeah, I can feel it too." Smiling, Shane blinks through his own rising wave of tears. "Let's go, Ryan."

Shane's heart leaps as Ryan grasps the side of his face, and pulls him in for a kiss. Their rolling chairs knock into each other, but it's not enough for Ryan. Smiling wildly, Ryan climbs into Shane's lap, and straddles him. Shane wraps his arms around Ryan to hold him steady. Bright laughter spills amongst a meteor shower of kisses.

"Oh, my god, we're doing it, we're doing it!" Ryan gasps with a smile brushing Shane's jaw. His lips find their way back to give another kiss. "We're gonna fucking do it. Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah, we're doing it. We're gonna make Watcher happen, and it's going to be goddamned amazing." Shane seals those words with a deep kiss. His hand glides up Ryan's broad back until resting between shoulder blades. Shane adores the feeling of those excited tremors under his palm. "Did you talk with Stevie yet?"

Laughing under his breath, Ryan wipes at his eyes. "I was thinking we could talk to him together."

"Totally, man." Shane lightly kisses Ryan's shoulder. "I'm down for that. Let's talk to him tomorrow."

While leaning against his partner, Ryan admires the various sketches spread across the desk. He taps on the latest drawing of a bespectacled blue creature with a red bowtie. "Got a name yet?"

"I'm thinking his name will be..." Leaning back in the chair, Shane hums thoughtfully. "The Professor?"

"Dude, he sounds cooler than both of us." Ryan takes a closer look at the puppet design. "Even got a kickass satchel. What's he keeping in there?"

Shane shuffles pages around until finding a sketch featuring the satchel. Detailed measurements and materials mark different areas. "After I sew the satchel together, maybe The Professor will let you see what's inside. I'll see if I can talk him into it."

"Really, Madej?" Ryan lets out a huff. "We've been together for this long, and you won't just tell me?"

"No fun if I ruin the surprise." With a broad grin, Shane wraps his arms around Ryan, and stands up.

As Shane carries him to bed, Ryan's laugh lights up their home. The warmth of that sound melts into Shane. After laying Ryan on the bed, Shane leans down to hover over him. Ryan caresses Shane's bare arms, painting tenderness over the battle field of scars. The honeyed glow of street lamps pour through spaces between closed blinds. One beam of light falls across Ryan's eyes. As those siennas shine brilliantly, Shane finally understands what Sagan means when speaking of stardust, the vast universe, and love. Trading whispers of three precious words, the space between them vanishes with a kiss.

Just as Ryan approaches the vehicle, it slowly inches away from him.

"Damnit, Ilnyckyj!" Ryan shakes a fist, knowing Andrew can see him in the rear view mirror. "I swear to god, I'm going to burn your kitchen down! You know LAX security doesn't like us fucking around in the pick-up lane."

Nearly keeling over with laughter, Shane catches Ryan's arm before his partner throws his backpack. Shane's still wheezing by the time they load up the trunk, then settle into the backseat. 

"Sorry, Bergara." With his signature deadpan, Andrew makes zero effort to sound sincerely apologetic. "Couldn't see you at first, so I thought you guys weren't outside yet, and I'd have to circle around." He quirks a brow at Ryan's glaring eyes in the mirror. "Did you get smaller, since last time I saw you?"

"You goddamned freaking sonuva-!" Ryan practically foams rabid at the mouth.

Shane's hysterical laughing fit breaks free, and bounces off the walls like LA's afternoon sun rays. Before Ryan attempts any bodily harm on Andrew, Shane restrains his partner with a hug. Ryan mutters something under his breath that has suspicious fragments of 'Worth It', 'murder plot', and 'Sims.'

"Drew--" Sighing softly, Steven holds Andrew's hand over the center console. "I thought we were going to be nicer to Ryan."

"I've always been nice to him." Andrew raises their clasped hands to press a kiss onto Steven's knuckles. His lips curve into a playful smile against the ring. "Honestly, when have I ever been mean to Ryan? I'm just following your example."

Steven tries to chide Andrew, but he's too endeared by his husband. When a red light stops the car, Steven leans over to give Andrew a kiss. With a smile, Andrew returns the kiss, and squeezes Steven's hand. As the light turns green, and the car moves forward, Steven settles back in his seat with his heart bursting.

A mix of M83, Goo Goo Dolls, Keane, Lifehouse, and more of Andrew's favorites play from the stereo. It's undoubtedly one of many CDs Steven burns for Andrew. While trading fond looks, Ryan and Shane can bet there's a heartfelt title on the disc with Steven's handwriting.

As both of them begin to doze off from the long travel, Ryan rests his head on Shane's shoulder. Shane adjusts slightly, and invites Ryan into his arms, so that his partner's more comfortable.

"Babe, can we stop by Watcher?" Ryan murmurs near Shane's ear. "There's something I need to do there before we close for the weekend."

Nodding, Shane plays with Ryan's hair. "Yeah, that's totally cool, dude."

"Awesome, thanks." Ryan kisses Shane's cheek, then leans closer to the front. When he asks Andrew and Steven if they can swing by the Watcher studio, everyone's down to go.

Leading up to the new channel launch, and from that moment on, the Watcher studio's been their second home. It's still surreal to step inside the building. Just seeing the Watcher symbol inspires a sense of awe most days, and may even spark incredulous, delighted tears some nights.

At the sound of familiar voices in the distance, Shane blinks with curiosity and excitement. It leans more towards the latter once Shane turns the corner, and sees more of his best friends.

"Gosh darn, all my favorite people are here!" It's impossible for Shane to hold back the beaming smile. After Zach greets him with a tackling hug, Shane holds Keith, and grins at Eugene. "Y'all here to join Watcher?"

Chuckling, Eugene pulls Shane into a tight embrace. "We're actually here to recruit you for The Try Guys."

"Damn, I'm honored. Hope I get to pick my own color." Shane claps his bestfriend's back before letting go. "Totally stoked to see you guys. But what're you doing here?"

"Maybe you should be asking him that." With a smile, Steven nods at what's waiting behind Shane. 

Turning around, Shane sees Ryan down on one knee, and holding out a small black box.

"Oh-- oh, fuck-" Shane inhales sharply. A hand slaps over his mouth, but barely stifles the torrent of gasping words. "Holy fucking fuck, Jesus fucking Christ-" His brain short-circuits until Shane knows only one explicative, and iterations of that word loops on repeat. A scalding wave of tears burn his gaze. Shane's heart wavers between firing off into cardiac arrest, or freezing with sheer shock.

Opening the box, Ryan reveals a silver ring. It gleams proudly under the Watcher studio lights. As if Shane's heart isn't already imploding, his chest collapses once seeing a glimpse of what's engraved inside the ring.

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-

When Shane raises his gaze from the silver band, he sees Ryan blinking back tears as well. Those autumn browns shine even brighter as Ryan smiles.

"Years ago, I asked if you'd do Unsolved with me. And you changed my life when you said yes." Ryan laughs breathlessly with echoes of that memory's overwhelming joy. To this day, Ryan's heart still aches at how Shane takes a chance into the unknown with him. "Shane, I love how you look at the world. And that I got to be with you on this fucking wild adventure. I was searching for the truth in Unsolved, and yeah, I didn't find any ghosts or demons yet." There's an unspoken promise in Ryan's smirk that someday, they'll find evidence. The smirk softens as Ryan loses breath over the sight of Shane. "But I still found the most important truth: I love you, Shane. All of you."

As Ryan reaches for Shane's hand, his thumb brushes over the scarred wrist. "Back then, I said I wanted every episode with you." Ryan laughs with tears in his eyes. "But now, I want every day with you. So, I can take care of you, and never let you forget that you're loved. You deserve every goddamned good thing in the universe, and I want to give that to you."

Heart in his palm, Ryan holds onto Shane's hand tighter. "Shane, will you marry me?"

Shane stares.

More tears brim his eyes.

When the silence draws on for too long, Ryan's smile falters. His chest collapses. The ground might as well give out under him. Or maybe he took a step too far in opening a Winchester door that leads to a dire fall. Just as tears burn the edges of his eyes, Ryan sees Shane--

Getting down. 

On one knee. 

And holding out a ring.

"Oh, my fucking god," Ryan gasps between a wheeze and sob. He covers his face with his free hand, and almost falls apart onto the ground. "You-- you-" After a shaking breath, Ryan chokes out his favorite term of endearment for Shane. "You jackass!"

"Yep, that's me." Tears in his eyes, Shane laughs as Ryan lightly punches his arm. The bright laughter carries over the chorus of their friends cheering and crying. "Just give me a sec." Shane wipes at his damp eyes, but the reservoir of tears proves to be endless. "I need to revise my proposal, since somebody gave one Helluva speech."

"Goddamnit, Shane-" Ryan dissolves into a mess of endeared swears and wheezes. During ghost hunts in abandoned hospitals and haunted ships, Ryan's heart nearly ruptures. But nothing compares with this moment. Ryan nervously rehearses the proposal countless times, and plans everything with extreme detail. Never does Ryan imagine both of them proposing.

"Ry." Shane reaches for his partner's hand. "Do you mind standing up for this?"

"Fuck-" As another harsh sob wracks his frame, Ryan stands up. No matter how many times Ryan dries his face, tears keep falling. "Dude, I won't be able to stop crying. God-"

"That's okay." Shane kisses the back of Ryan's hand. An adoring smile curves against those knuckles. "We're all crying."

Even before Ryan looks around the room, he already hears the shaky exhales, barely muffled sobs, and flickers of laughter. More tears burn Ryan's eyes at seeing their bestfriends. Even after the wild hurricane of change, and moving into different parts of their lives--

They're all here.

Always finding their way back to each other.

As Ryan's gaze returns to Shane, he finally dares to look closer at the ring. There's already a sob rising from seeing that Shane chose silver too. But that sob punches out of Ryan once discovering what's engraved inside that ring.

I / LOVE / YOU

"All my life, I never felt like I was enough. I didn't think I had a place in the company, and sure Hell not in Unsolved. But you--" As Shane smiles, the light reflects off tears on his lashes. "You believed in me even when I didn't know how to believe in myself. And you loved me even when it was rough. I want to do the same for you, Ryan." With his hand still in Ryan's grasp, Shane brushes his thumb over the man's knuckles. "When you're terrified in those ghost hunts, you run right into the dark. Jesus Christ-" While barely holding back tears, Shane laughs. "How could I not fall in love with that fucking phenomenal bravery?"

From the beginning, Shane can go waltzing into a decrepit building, and provoke supposed spirits without giving a damn. But Shane knows exactly which episodes Ryan's on the brink of a terrified breakdown. Those nights when Ryan's voice wavers and cracks, his breathing staggers wildly, anxiety spiking to dangerous heights. And Shane's right outside the room, listening to every frightened inhale through audio, fighting the urge to get Ryan out of there.

But Ryan keeps battling terror head on. Over the years, and all the way through this final season, Ryan runs into the dark. Now, there's more laughing than screaming. Ryan smiles damned brightly at the shadows, and the light in his eyes burns fiercer than ever.

"I still don't believe in ghosts and demons. But I'll always believe in you, Ry. I'll follow you anywhere." With his heart feeling vast and infinite for this man, Shane smiles. "Ryan, will you marry me?"

Another sob breaks through Ryan, but this time with a round of overjoyed wheezes. "Damnit, Shane--" Ryan's shoulders shake with a laugh full of tears. "I asked first."

Shane grins playfully. "Well, how about you answer first too?"

"Yes, yes, fuck yes-!" Ryan surges forward, closing the space between them until wild, fearless smiles collide in a kiss.

An explosive chorus of cheers, sobs, and screams rage louder than a million EVPs on full blast. Holding the side of Shane's face, Ryan kisses with a silent promise on his lips. Shane echoes that promise by deepening the kiss. Standing up, Shane pulls Ryan closer to feel that courageous heartbeat against his own. Every atom of their being reignites with the ferocious light of a thousand suns. All those starlight rays converge into one, and point towards the future, tomorrow, infinity.

The kiss breaks only for a moment, so Shane can give his answer: "Hell yes."

As they slide a ring onto their fiance's hand, decaying forests and weary graveyards in their chests are conquered by defiantly hopeful wildflowers. Shane kisses Ryan again, hungry to catch every sob, and memorize the curve of that smile. Tears catch at the corners of their mouths, and they taste purer than rainwater. "I love you, I love you, I fucking love you" pour out along with gasps for air, and wheezing laughs.

In the shared darkness of closed eyes, Ryan and Shane can still see each other. And through the breathtaking mosaic of Unsolved episodes playing at light speed, daredevil laughter echoing through an ancient tunnel, smiles trading over a desk covered in manilla folders, the Watcher intro glowing with cosmic hues-- they swear, they see a glimpse of the future.

It's beautiful.

It's bright.

Pale, almost colorless light from the monitor washes coldly over Shane. After running through the same sequence countless times, pixels blur into an abstract mess. Or the blurriness may be from the draining emptiness. That void grows more in his chest everyday. During the frantic chaos of reviewing footage, editing videos, animating, trying to survive in LA, and a million other things, Shane feels what's left of him fall through a trapdoor. Earlier today while waiting for something to render, a haunting question whispers in his mind:

"What are you doing here?"

Shane doesn't doubt the higher ups think the same thing. Sure, he's technically skilled, never misses a deadline, and easy to get along with. But Shane doesn't have that special spark like everyone else at Buzzfeed. Who knows when they'll let him go? As some fucked up countermeasure to manage his severe anxiety, Shane drafts a letter of resignation on his personal computer at home. He updates it every other weekend. Then every few days. Then last night.

While staring at the melting screen, something flickers in Shane's peripheral. His eyes widen once realizing Ryan's approaching. Shane assumes he's the only one still in office. He'd rather painstakingly refine some more animation frames than go to an empty, forlorn apartment, and agonizingly debate on turning in the letter tomorrow morning.

"Hey, Ry." Shane pulls off the headphones carefully, so the taped right half doesn't break off again. As the headphones rest around his neck, synthwave trickles through softly. "What's up? Didn't know you were still here."

With an easy grin, Ryan collapses in the chair beside Shane. "I could say the same for you, dude." Ryan rolls the chair few inches closer to get a better look at Shane's monitor. He lets out a low whistle at the intricate work. "Damn, Shane. I swear, you're a freaking genius at this."

"What? I-- No, it's not much." Shane shakes his head with a sheepish laugh. "Still got a long way to go. Trying to learn how to do this part on the fly." Shane readjusts a few points on the interface's timeline, then loops a specific sequence.

As Ryan watches the screen in sheer awe, he smiles brightly. "And that's what I mean when I say you're fucking amazing." Ryan nudges Shane with his elbow. "You care so much about what you create. It shows in your work. I love that about you."

While Ryan admires that sequence again with a delighted laugh, Shane keeps staring at Ryan. It bewilders Shane how Ryan expresses himself so openly, and holds his heart out. But a silent ache swells inside of Shane's chest. Although Ryan always shows a smile to everyone, Shane sees the dark circles under Ryan's eyes, and how that shirt hangs looser on his frame.

"This isn't due tomorrow." Shane nods at the work-in-progress video. "Anything I can help you with? Doesn't matter what it is. Just want to help take things off your plate, so maybe you can get some sleep."

Ryan's eyes remain on the screen, but his smile slowly fades. The next inhale scrapes at the inside of his throat. "Actually, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about. But-" Ryan strains a laugh to bury the cracking in his voice. Fear injects molten mercury into his veins. "Nevermind, I should go. Sorry for interrupting you-"

"Ryan." Shane grasps the back of Ryan's chair, so it doesn't wheel away any further. "It's okay, dude. I'm here for you."

That relentless pick axe strikes at Ryan's chest. Every swing fractures more of his sternum, splinters of bone raining onto the ground. But when Ryan finally looks at Shane, terror loosens its vice grip on Ryan's throat, and his voice returns.

"I feel like you really believe in what I'm trying to do with Unsolved. Even when-" Ryan's laugh falls apart even before it escapes, since it collapses under the weight of heartache. Shrugging a shoulder, Ryan tries to play flippant. "Who knows if it'll just get cancelled next month. Maybe even next week." The nonchalant farce shatters as Ryan tightens his hand into a fist, and furiously blinks tears away. "Fuck, they could just call me in tomorrow morning, and say it's over."

"You're not going to lose Unsolved." Reaching out, Shane rests his hand on Ryan's shoulder. "It's a fucking amazing show, and you built it from scratch. There's already so many people who love it, and that community's only going to grow." As Shane squeezes Ryan's shoulder, he smiles. "And you're right, dude. I don't believe in ghosts, demons, any of that paranormal stuff-- but I'll always believe in you."

Ryan doesn't fight the tears anymore. It's impossible when Shane overwhelms him with this unwavering, bold wave of hope. Laughing under his breath, Ryan wipes at his damp face. A part of him still screams not to ask this question. If Unsolved burns down to the ground, then it should only be Ryan. Not the rest of his team. And sure as Hell not Shane.

But as Shane eases the tension out of his shoulder, Ryan's chest splits right open. A torrent of glass fragments and black venom cascades out. Even while Ryan's falling apart, Shane reaches into the fire, and stays with him.

Ryan breathes deeply to push through the dense, suffocating jungle of thorns and fears. Following the glimpse of the sky between caging branches, Ryan turns towards Shane. "Will you be part of Unsolved with me?"

Heart halting, Shane stares at Ryan in stunned silence. All colors and sounds fade away until it's only the two of them. "You...want me?" Shane's voice barely rises above a whisper. "Are you sure, Ryan? But I-" Every scar hiding under clothes screams for more blood, and erupts with the merciless wrath of Pompeii. Afraid that he'll cover Ryan in ashes, Shane begins to draw his hand back. "There's so many other people way better than me-"

Ryan catches Shane's wrist. His heart shatters at the lines of scar tissue under his touch. But Ryan doesn't let go. "You're more than enough, Shane." Even with more tears brimming his eyes, Ryan smiles. "You can try Unsolved for one episode. And if you wanna stop, that's cool. But if you wanna keep doing it-" Ryan wheezes out a laugh. "That'd be really fucking rad."

The drafted letter flashes in Shane's mind. Shane knows that if he declines Unsolved, and turns in his two weeks, Ryan won't resent him. Instead Ryan will unconditionally support him. Because Ryan's just that goddamned kind and loving. Even after discovering Shane's scars, Ryan still holds onto him.

Shane takes in a deep, solemn breath, then deadpans Ryan. "Y'know I'm going to do everything I can to provoke those ghosts, right?"

"No provoking! We need to be respectful!" Ryan insists vehemently. He's on the verge of explaining ghost hunting protocols, and paranormal interaction etiquette. But a sudden sharp inhale ignites a shockwave through Ryan's body. "Wait, wait, dude--" Ryan lights up with the loudest, happiest wheeze. "Is that a yes?"

"Make that a Hell yes." Shane laughs brightly when Ryan tackles him with a hug.

All the locked away sobs break out of Ryan, and crash into Shane's shoulder. A whispering "thank you" trickles along with tears. Ryan holds onto Shane tightly. Long-awaited rainfall extinguishes the fire. Neither of them are burning alive anymore.

While returning the embrace, and feeling the overjoyed tremors of Ryan's sobs, Shane commits to deleting the drafted letter. Shane still doesn't know if he's good enough to be here. But when Shane's with Ryan, he starts believing in the future again.

Shane keeps a protective arm around Ryan, and his other hand taps a few keystrokes to save the file. After shutting down the computer, Shane tousles Ryan's hair. "C'mon, let's go home."

"Yeah, dude." Ryan smiles as he stands up, and dries his face. An untamed surge of exhilaration flares inside. "Holy fuck, I can't believe this is happening. We're really doing this, Shane!" He holds his hand out. "Dude, we're going to find the truth, and it's going to be fucking awesome. You, me, nothing's going to stop us!"

Shane spends his whole life memorizing the stars, and cherishing every word from pale golden pages of childhood Sagan books. LA's city lights scorch too brightly for constellations to reveal themselves. The cosmos begins to fade into a distant memory.

But as Ryan wildly gestures and raves about all the cases they'll dig into, and places they'll explore, Shane sees how the stars never left.

"Sounds like it's gonna be one Helluva adventure." With a smile, Shane takes Ryan's hand, and stands up. "So, where do we start?"

Ryan's eyes light up even more. "Ever hear about the demonic Sallie House?"

Despite the rush of endearment, Shane still deadpans Ryan. "Demons aren't real, Bergara."

"They're fucking real, Madej," Ryan fires back. But there's no real bite to his words when Ryan's quick to smile playfully. "Let's see what you say when we spend the night there. And you can bet we're going there with an EVP!"

As they leave, Ryan passionately describes paranormal investigation gadgets, and Shane shakes with hysterical laughter. The scent of wildfire smoke vanishes under petrichor. Outside, Shane and Ryan discover a night sky void of stars. But tonight, it doesn't feel empty and haunting.

Ribcages aching with fierce joy. Secret smiles trading between bantering remarks and silent promises. A brave universe sparks when their hands brush. Fear can't win here. Together, Shane and Ryan walk forward, their laughter ricocheting in the darkness, burning brighter than daylight.