A/N: I saw Jim Morrison. No. Fucking. Shit. And then I wrote this.


It curled like his soul was coming out of his mouth, reaching for the stars above his head. Through the haze he could barely see the television, which was muted and bright, a wrestling match from a couple of years ago.

Chris hated smoking alone, but when the time was right, it was pure bliss. The sheer calmness of everything around him, how the walls slowly cave in, the floor becomes a blanket of cotton and the couch engulfs him like a mother who's found her lost child.

It was times like this, this, that Chris felt alive.

"Knock, knock, I brought beer!" Jay busted open the door to Chris's basement, and within a second, the case in his hand dropped to the floor. "Oh, shit! Chris, are you in here? Adam, come help! Chris's basement's on fire!"

Chris knew he should get up and tell Jay to calm down, but he just sat there and laughed silently, barely keeping his eyes open.

"It's not on fire," Adam spat, coming into the room. Chris could hear him sniffing. "I smell weed. Chris, you in here?"

"Yeah," Chris choked, trying to keep the hit in for as long as he could. He blew out a long stream and laughed at his friends. "You're early."

"We're late." Jay picked up the case again. "Hockey game started half an hour ago."

"Oh." Chris scratched at his head, looking around for the remote. "Okay. Well... put it on. And open some windows if it's too cloudy in here."

"It's fine." Adam dropped onto the couch next to him. "How long have you been down here?"

"Couple of hours." Chris yawned and held out the joint. "Want a hit?"

Adam grimaced slightly.


Both Chris and Adam turned their heads to the other side of the room, barely making Jay's silhouette out in the smokiness.

"What, Jay?" Chris asked monotonously.

Jay burst out laughing. "Whoa. Whoa."

"He's clambaking!" Adam yelled.

"Oh, shit." Chris stood up, trying to clear his pounding head. "Shit. Open the windows, I don't want him to—"

Jay was in front of him, clutching his shoulders. "Dude. Did you know your basement moves?"

Chris started snorting.

Adam shook his head. "Chris, give me that j. We might as well enjoy this."

It had to be close to midnight. The boys had completely forgotten about the hockey game and just sat in Chris's basement for a good four hours, laughing and telling stories from when they were younger. It was Adam, however, who suggested they go practice some moves on the back lawn.

And so they floated to the backyard, where the grass was wet with rain and the pool lights kept them from being in total darkness.

"You're fucking rich, can't you buy some lights back here?" Adam hissed.

"I have some, I can't find the switch."

"We're fucking stoned, man." Adam rubbed his hands over his face. "I haven't done this in so long."

"Me neither. Couple of days. It's been rough." Chris tripped over a decorative rock, falling to his hands and knees.

Adam laughed. "Get up, man. What are you doing?"

"Get on my back!"


"Hop on, cowboy!" Chris neighed and bucked up.

Adam was practically doubled over, holding his stomach as he heaved out laughter. He couldn't help but concede and, carefully sitting on Chris's back, held his feet above the ground so they wouldn't touch.

"Giddy up!"

Chris bucked again and Adam immediately flipped backwards.

"You gotta hold on, cowboy!" Chris galloped around the yard, pointing his fingers like guns and yelling, "POW POW!" every time he shot them.

"Oh, shit! Guys, guys!"

Adam sat up and looked in the direction of the house, noticing Jay kneeling by the side of the pool. "What, Jay?"

Jay glanced up frantically, gaping, trying to form words.

Chris slowed down. "You all right, man?"

Jay pointed at the water, then looked back, mouth still open.

Adam went over there, watching the waves ripple and hit the sides. "Cool."

Jay screamed. "I'm drowning!"

Adam couldn't stop Jay before he just collapsed into the water, head first, and went under, trying to save himself. Jay came up retching and held onto the edge while he coughed out water.

"Dude, I saw the other side. I swear to God," he breathed.

"Really?" Adam smiled easily. "Chris! Jay had an out of body experience."

Chris gave a thumbs up from where he was lying, face down, on the grass.

Adam let out a breath. "I think I'm coming down."

Jay laid on his back, floating to the middle of the pool. "You ever think about death?"

"Jay, not this again—"

"No, I'm totally serious." He blinked up at the night sky. "I wonder what it's like."

"You should know. You just died."

"I did?" Jay lifted his head slightly. "I don't remember that."

"Two seconds ago. You were drowning, remember?"

"Oh." Jay nodded, a smile seeping onto his face. "Heaven's nice."

"Good to know, Jay."

"Why would you care? You're going straight to hell, buddy."

"Wonderful." Adam sat down and rolled his jeans up, putting them in the water. "I wonder what it's like in hell."

"What if this is hell?"

"Jay, don't start with the philosophical semantics."

Jay snorted and rolled over, floating like a dead man.

Chris lifted his head. "You comin' down?"

Adam nodded. "You?"

"Yeah. This sucks." Chris stood up. "Want pizza?"

"Unless it's Edge pizza, I'm in the mood for nachos."

Chris licked his lips. "Mexican does sounds good."

"Solid. Let's go get some."

Chris stopped near the edge of the pool as Adam dried off his legs and rolled his pants back down. He motioned to Jay. "What's wrong with him?"

Adam flapped his hand. "Oh, he's dead."


"Yeah. Let's go get some food."

"Um..." Chris went around to the other side, bending down to shake Jay's soaked shirt. "Jay. You alive, man?"

He reared back, sputtering and winding his arms around like a windmill. He stopped, looking from Adam to Chris. "Where am I?"

"In my pool."

"We're going to get nachos," Adam put in. "Want some?"

Jay's face lit up. "Yeah."

Chris helped him out of the pool, slapping him on the back when they went into the house. "So how was it, man?"

"Heaven? It was nice." Jay nodded. "But they don't have nachos."

"You sure that wasn't hell?" Adam asked, grabbing his keys.

Jay stroked his chin. "Now that I think about it, I did see the Hardyz there."