A/N: as most of you know by now this is a murder mystery 5sos fanfic! for anyone who might be rereading: NO SPOILERS DONT DO IT OKAY DONT I'll be sad. that's all thanks

Luke Hemmings stood at the front of the church, his hands clasped in front of him, knuckles white, fingers bruised.

Beside him stood two boys, dressed in the same black suit and tie as him. Michael, a boy almost as tall as Luke with dyed red hair, stood with his arms crossed, jaw clenching and unclenching. He shifted restlessly from foot to foot, eyes moving around the pews as though looking for something he lost. Luke didn't make a move to touch him. Michael was all fire and anger, and touching him could cause mass destruction.

Next to Michael was Ashton. Ashton was a little shorter but nonetheless taller than the average high school boy population. He chewed on his lip and let his hands dangle by his sides, occasionally moving them around with no purpose. Ashton's hands never seemed to belong anywhere. He kept glancing at Luke and Michael, and then he would swivel back to look at the pews of people in black moving into the church.

Luke had never seen so many people wearing black in one room before. He wondered if any of them really were mourning for who was dead in that coffin, or if they were just wearing black because, really, everyone is mourning for someone. Or something.

Luke glanced at the family standing at the very front of the church. A mother and father, all weepy and weak-kneed. A sister, tears swelling in her eyes, but she blinked repeatedly to keep them from falling. Luke, Michael, and Ashton didn't stand there with them. They weren't family. Not blood related, anyway, but anyone who knew him knew that he was closer to the three of them than he ever was with his family. Everyone knew that.

Nobody came and said their condolences. Luke was glad. Michael would have probably punched them if they had.

Michael stirred for the first time, staring as people began sitting down. He didn't bother leaning in as he said, "Which one of these bastards killed Calum, do you think?"

Ashton immediately jumped at Michael's words, but he didn't say anything. As usual.

"Keep your mouth shut. This isn't the time or place," Luke said. Michael shrugged.

"When is?"

"Maybe when we're all not standing at his funeral. Calum wouldn't want us talking about who killed him when we're all supposed to be mourning him," said Luke. Michael narrowed his eyes. His green eyes looked even more vicious for a moment.

"I'm going to kill whoever killed him. I'll kill them," Michael said. Ashton looked at him. His eyebrows pinched together.

Before anyone could say anything else, a preacher stood at the front of the church, and Calum's family retreated back to their spot on the front pew. Luke sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. The other boys followed. The preacher waited as everyone took their seats, and then he raised his arms.

"Today, we are joined here in mourning for Calum Thomas Hood."

Calum's mother let out a sob. Mali, the sister, comforted her. Luke kept his eyes up front, hardly blinking. In his head, he saw Calum's face, always watching, always smiling, always right there by Luke's side. The empty spot beside Luke on the pew felt even more vacant today.

Something changed in Ashton's face. He looked even more miserable, as if it were possible, as he stared not at the preacher but toward the back of the church, where behind the closed doors awaited Calum's wooden casket.

When they did bring out the casket, a silent hush fell over the church. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Michael didn't turn to look at it, instead staring angrily ahead at the white carnations that decorated the front of the church. Luke watched the boys settle the casket at the front of the church. He stared at it. Calum is in there. He's dead and lying in that coffin.

The funeral passed quickly. It was awkward and sad and depressing and terrible especially because of how young the victim was. That's all everyone seemed to talk about. How young he was. How they hoped the justice system would get to the bottom of the case and provide closure for the family. This and that. Luke wanted to shut his ears off. Either that, or yell at them.

Michael and Ashton followed Luke out of the church after the funeral was over. They didn't say anything, but they walked in the same way they always had, elbows brushing together, feet sometimes stepping in the same spot. Kids cut from the same stone. Always thinking the same thing, always on the same track of thought. Luke's mother used to say it unnerved her, how he and one of the boys could have silent conversations just by looking at each other. Like they knew each other so well that words were unnecessary.

Luke had that relationship with each of the boys, even Ashton, who hardly talked at all. But he had it especially with Calum. They were perhaps even closer because they were close in every single way two boys could be close. Yes, even romantically. They were never boyfriends, necessarily, but they could have been. They just never felt the need to put a name to it.

Luke climbed into his car. The other boys followed. They still said nothing.

Luke thought it best not to say anything at all, although the others were probably waiting for him to say something first. He'd never been good at articulating words, saying the right thing at the right time. He couldn't even think about what would be the appropriate thing to say after you just attended your best friend's funeral. What was the protocol?

"Damn it, Calum," Luke finally said. Michael seemed to find it sufficient enough. Ashton winced at the curse word. "He always said he'd been the first one to bite it."

"I always thought it'd be me," said Michael. Ashton nodded. Even Luke had to agree. Michael, with all his fiery willpower and eagerness to start fights, was bound to be the first of the four to die unexpectedly. But no. Calum. Of all fucking people.

They sat in the car for a few minutes before Luke started to head to Michael's house to drop him off. Michael leaned against the window, and then he turned up the radio station, blasting something with lots of electric guitar and lots of bass. He drummed his fingers on the side of Luke's car, his pale hands pausing only during the gaps of the song. Luke saw Ashton staring at Michael's restless hands from the rearview mirror.

Luke set his jaw and put on his sunglasses as he pulled into Michael's expensive neighborhood. He's got the house to himself since his rich parents were off in Peru or Colombia or some other obscure country doing God knows what, so Michael pretty much lived by himself. He also had an inheritance big enough to let the four of them never work a day in their life if they wanted it.

Three of them. Luke chastised himself. Three of them, now. Couldn't fall into that habit.

Luke pulled into Michael's driveway. Michael didn't say anything as he opened the car door, still fired up with angry energy.

"See you, dude," Luke said. Michael lifted his hand as a farewell and then slammed the door shut. Luke watched to make sure Michael was inside before pulling out of the driveway.

Ashton climbed up to the passenger seat to fill Michael's absence. Luke hated it when he was the only one up at the front of the car, especially if there was someone in the back. It made him feel like some kind of chaffeur.

"Do you want to go home yet, Ash?" Luke asked. "Or do you wanna head back to my place?"

"Yours," Ashton said. So Luke obliged.

Luke was usually a big talker in every sense of the term. He filled silences with conversation he didn't care was polite or not, as long as it filled the gap. He really wasn't very nice, in all honesty, but his charm and confidence made up for it. He slipped on that Luke Hemmings smile and everything was his to own.

Ashton, on the other hand, preferred both comfortable and uncomfortable silence. He watched things and he watched people and he read their motions and expressions, so that when he did talk, it was always either very intuitive or very shocking. At least when he was around people that wasn't the boys. Luke always liked that part of Ashton. The silent, brooding type. Made him feel less of an outcast.

Luke didn't think Ashton was always like that. But he had a lot of secrets. Luke knew some of them, even if Ashton didn't like that he did. But Luke knew Ashton must have others embedded under his skin that simply festered in his mind.

Luke drove the way to his own house, fairly large but not nearly as large as Michael's. He stopped the car in the driveway, and Ashton tugged at the sleeves of his suit, clearly too big for him.

Luke took Ashton inside. When he opened the door, he listened carefully for anyone who might be home, but he knew no one was. His brothers were in college and they hated Luke, anyway. And his parents were always out working to worry about Luke being home alone.

It really was no wonder Luke had gotten so close to Ashton, Michael, and Calum. They were brothers, pretty much. The only thing missing was the blood. With his family never home and no one to look after him, he had to make his own makeshift family.

Luke collapsed onto his bed. The collar of his white button-up felt like it was choking him. He pulled his tie loose, yanking his collar down until it wasn't so tight against his neck. He took off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair. Ashton laid down by his feet, staring up at Luke's ceiling. He didn't say anything.

"Fucking Calum," Luke said. "I hate him for dying. I hate him so much."

Ashton considered this. "You don't mean that."

"Like hell I don't," said Luke. Ashton turned on his side and blinked his irritatingly genuine hazel eyes at him.

"You loved him," said Ashton, "didn't you?"

Luke decided to ignore this question. "He shouldn't have died. Even all things considered. It doesn't make any sense."

"He got shot in the leg, Luke," said Ashton. "The wound probably got infected. Got in his bloodstream. Too late for amputation."

Luke wished Ashton wasn't so educated in medicine, because then maybe he could have pretended like Calum getting shot in the leg wasn't as deadly as it was. Luke chewed on his bottom lip. "He was too young to die. He shouldn't have died."

"But he did."

"But he did," repeated Luke. He ran his fingers over the quilted pattern of his bedspread. Calum used to join him and lay beside him on it. He was shorter than Luke, so he would rest his head on Luke's shoulder. Luke would run his hands through Calum's dark hair, and Calum would push him off even though he secretly liked it.

"You're thinking about him," Ashton said. Not a question. An observation.

"Are you not?" Luke fired back. Ashton remained cool as a river, nothing but ice and smooth edges.

"I am. But in a way that might be more efficient towards finding out who killed him," Ashton said. Luke felt his eyes start to water. He immediately scolded himself and blinked them away. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"The detectives?"

"The detectives probably won't do much," Ashton said. "Their leads always fall through."

Luke furrowed his eyebrows together. "Don't say that."

"Detectives here aren't good at their jobs. You know that." When Luke didn't answer, Ashton sighed. "I think we are going to have to deal with it on our own, Luke," said Ashton. "There's no one else to trust. Just us."

Luke didn't feel like talking about detective work after he just saw Calum's dead casket roll to the front of a church. Luke rolled on his side and stared at a picture on his bedside table. After a moment, he reached out and picked it up.

"Calum," Ashton guessed. He was right. Luke stared at the photograph. Calum's tousled black hair, his beautiful, dark skin, his deep brown eyes alight with joy. He was smiling, wrinkles crinkling around his eyes. Luke didn't smile looking at it. He put it back on the bedside table.

"Life is too fragile, Ash," Luke said. Ashton rolled onto his back again and blinked at the popcorn ceiling. He didn't say anything.

He didn't have to.

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A/N: okay of all the stories i've posted i'm really excited for this one

i know the description is kind of vague but this is going to be a cool story-- i hope-- and it will involve magic & paranormal things which is always fun

please tell me your thoughts about it. i really rely on some of your comments to let me know if i should continue or if anyone enjoys it. if you do, tell ur friends,, get the story goin

thanks for reading. i hope you enjoyed it. i love you to the moon,

bye