A/n
60 THOUSAND FREAKING READS. I couldn't find a finished chapter to post for the past few days, (and I couldn't write one good enough) BUT I actually found this on my old phone, which was written over a year ago.
Enjoy. ;)
(It's lowkey horrible so I'm writing another part of Nancy to make up for it lol.)
***

Scott groaned in pain as a defending buzz filled his ears.

He ached all over, he felt light, yet heavy and like he couldn't move. His throat was dry, and he couldn't call for help. But he could opened his eyes.

He was scared. He was in a car, his car, in what seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. It was dark, but the car light was on so he could see where he was.

He had no idea how he got there, but he was too confused and dazed to try and figure it out.
His phone was on his lap. He squinted his eyes and picked up the phone.

His first instinct was to call his husband, so that's what he did.

Although he didn't answer.

He tried again, but he got no answer. He then decided to call Kirstie. And thankful she answered, confused at who was calling.

"Hello?" She asked hesitantly. Scott cleared his throat, hoping his voice would be clear enough for her to understand.

"Hey Kirst, I just... I don't really understand what's going on. Just woke up in my car on some road? It's dark outside, can you come pick me up, my car won't turn on." Scott said with a sigh.
There was a dead silence.

Scott was furrowed his eyebrows. 
"Kirstie? You there?" He asked.

When Kirstie spoke, her voice was shaking with either nervousness, sadness, anger or fear. He didn't know, he didn't understand what was happening.

"W-who is this? Is this some kind of joke, it's not funny!" She yelled. Scott flinched, now he was even more confused.

"Kirstie? What on earth are you talking about? What's going on, it's Scott!" He stammered.

She then hung up.

Scott groaned again, his head felt like it had been hit with a bolder. His shaking hands then called her back.
He felt his throat bubble with a sob, he closed his eyes tightly.

She answered with another yell.
"This isn't funny! You can't do that, that's just not funny! Who is this? Is this Henry? Did Jen put you up to this? I swear, I will call the police. This isn't okay!"
Scott felt his breath quicken in a panic.

"Kirstie, please. What's going on? I'm freaking out, please come get me. I-I don't understand what's going on, it's scott! I promise, please, kirst."
He heard her breath hitch, and also some shuffling in the background.

"Hello?" He heard Jeremy say. Scott sighed in relief, but kept his eyes closed tightly.
"Jeremy, what's up? Why is Kirstin freaking out?"

Jeremy replied in a hesitant manner as well, and it only made him even more panicked.
"Where are you? Is... is this a joke or something? I-Its bad enough t-that--"

"Jeremy, please... I literally j-just want to go home, okay? Can you please just come?" Scott asked with a soft voice. He was terrified, he felt vulnerable and upset, all he wanted was to be home.

"Tell me where you are."

***

A hour later, Kirstie called him again. Scott answered quickly, and in a relief.
"Hey, are you guys here?" He asked. There was a beat of quiet, and he heard incoherent whispering before Kirstie spoke.

"We're here. Is this... this your car?" Scott opened his car door and saw Kirstie's car driving up, the right lights burning his eyes.

He heard a quick, "oh my g--" before Kirstie hung up. Her car door opened and Scott was confused with her expression.

Absolutely mortified.
"How... how did you do this? This is sick, who are you?" Kirstie marched up to him, her eyes filled with tears. Scott felt defeated, he just shook his head and shrugged.

"I don't know what's happening." Scott whispered.
Jeremy got out of the car as well and walked next to Kirstie

"This is Scott. Jeremy, it's Scott. How is that possible? How does he looked just like him?" Kirstie said in a harsh voice to Jeremy. Scott hugged himself and closed his eyes again.

"Will you guys please stop? Can someone explain to me why you're acting so weird?" He asked anxiously. Jeremy stared at him, wordlessly, but Kirstie stood up closer to him.

"T-Tell me your full name a-and... and your parents names and your sisters names. Oh, and your cats name and you and your husbands anniversary!" She asked loudly, crossing her arms in deference.

Scott sighed again sadly before replying.
"My name is Scott Richard Grassi-Hoying. My parents names are Rick and Connie Hoying, my sisters are Lindsey and Lauren Hoying, my cats name is Wyatt Blue Grassi-Hoying and our anniversary is May second."

Kirstie stared at him, she stepped forward until she was almost touching him, she brought a hand up and touch his face.
"How is... how is this possible? Is... are you really Scott? My Scotty? Mine?" Scott blinked, letting tears fall down his face.

"Yes. K, what's happening? Please..." he whispered. Kirstie didn't even hesitate wrapping her arms around him, she let out a sob and hugged him so tightly it hurt.

"You were dead. You died, you got hit by a car, you were dead, Scotty! You died... it's been a year, how are you here, this isn't real."

***

It had been a few hours, and Kirstie and Jeremy brought Scott back to their house.

I'n that time, Kirstie couldn't stop crying. Scott thought this was a prank, but Kirstie was sobbing so uncontrollably and was so obviously in distress, then he knew they weren't.

But how?

Scott didn't understand, he never died. He was with Mitch in their house just the day before; but then suddenly he woke up in his car. He never died, he couldn't have.

Jeremy was just as confused as them, but just didn't know how to react.
"I don't understand, I don't get it, how is this happening? You were dead, I... I watched you get put in the ground. I watched it, I saw you... I saw you lifeless in a coffin. a coffin, Scott. You died. How can you be alive?"

Scott didn't reply, but his heavy breathing and tight grip on Kirstie as he hugged told Kirstie that he truly didn't understand just as much as her.
But he then pulled back and looked her right in the eyes.

"Where's Mitch?"

***

Kirstie decided not to call Mitch and tell him, but to just go there with Scott. It had been a few more hours, Kirstie couldn't let him go yet. She needed time with him, she asked him endless detailed questions that only Scott could know. She wanted to be sure.

She thought it was a joke, some sick person got a good makeup artist and decided to pull a disgusting joke on her.
But it wasn't. It was him. He had the same freckles, same birthmarks. He knew things only Scott would know.

Scott cried. He didn't know how to feel, he didn't know what to do except for answering her questions and apologize for what happened. But he still didn't believe it.

It wasn't until he saw Mitch that he believed he did in fact, die.

Kirstie told him that Mitch was different. When Scott asked how, she didn't reply. She told him that Mitch hadn't moved, he stayed in their home by himself.

But he had given Wyatt to Kevin and Avi. And he had quit his job as a model, and she said he hasn't laughed once.

Not even once.

Scott cried on the drive over there, his own death ruined Mitch's life. What was Mitch going to do when he learned Scott was alive?
What would he say, what would he--?

"Scotty, were here. I'll go in with you b-because he's... god, I don't know. Are you ready?" Scott nodded and she smiled at him.

"I can't believe you're here." She mumbled to herself with a smile. She stepped out of her car, as did Scott, and they walked hand in hand to the house.

***

Kirstie knocked on the front door. It was no shock to her that he didn't answer.
So she knocked again and again, but then decided to use her key.

When she opened the door, Scott gasped quietly. The house was almost pitch dark despite it being morning now. Thick curtains blocked the light from the windows and all the lamps were shattered.

Broken glass was on the ground, they were beer bottles.  There was a small pathway through the glass that he seemed to make instead of cleaning glass up.

Scotts eyes watered, but he took a deep breath and walked inside. He stepped on the glass, and he was thankful for his thick shoes.

"He's um... he's not well, Scott. Guess you know that by now... h-he's probably in his bedroom asleep or... yeah uh, let's go." She quietly. She carefully tip tow'd around the broken beer bottles. 
Scott was amazed. It was his house, but yet it wasn't.

It was like a different. The atmosphere was sad and empty, the smell was of alcohol and maybe  cigarette smoke.

It broke his heart, he didn't understand.

Yeah, that seemed to be the only thing he knew lately.

"Mitch!" Kirstie yelled excitedly, quickly jumping over another chunk of glass and to the hallway. Scott followed her quickly and she banged on the door.

"Mitch, I have a surprise! You need to come out, I'm serious!" She said again. With no reply, she rolled her eyes and opened the door. She gestured for Scott to stay, and she walked in.

"The heck do you want?" Scott heard Mitch mumble groggily.

It didn't even sound like him. He peeked inside and saw Kirstie standing in front of the bed, jumping up and down excitedly.

Mitch was laying down, his head buried in his pillows. Kirstie then looked at Scott and waved him over. He walked inside slowly, looking around the room.

"Mitch, look--"

"Kirstin, get out! I don't have time for this!" He yelled, sitting up and turning to face her. His face dropped as he made eyecontact with Scott.

But he only looked back at Kirstie.
"What is this? What's wrong with you?" Mitch asked angrily.

She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off.
"You just got some doppelgänger to try and cheer me up or something? Really nice, Kirstie. You're a great friend!" He yelled. He looked back at Scott, and Scott could easily tell that Mitch was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Mitch, it's him! It's actually him! He came back, he--"

"Kirstie, stop it!" Mitch yelled. He shook his head and scoffed at her.
"You're horrible." He mumbled. He looked back at Scott.

"Both of you... get..." he stared at Scott. He really stared. He lost his words.

"Mitch... it's him. L-look at his eyes! Look at them! Ask him anything. I didn't hire him, it's really him. It's him, Mitch!" She said. Mitch shook his head and turned back to Kirstie with tears in his eyes.

"Get out of my house. Scott is dead. And if you ever do this again... god, just get out of here!" Mitch cried. Scott stepped forward, the urge to hug him becoming unbearable.

But Mitch held up his hand to stop him and shook his head.
"I don't know who you are or why you are... why you're..."
Mitch stopped. His hand dropped down slowly and he tilted his head at him slightly.

And Scott could barely hear Mitch whisper under his breath.

"Who are you?"

Mitch then shook his head, tears were freely falling down his face.
Kirstie intervened and looked at Mitch dead in the eyes.

Scott hopelessly looked at Mitch, he wondered if he was having a nightmare. But the amount of paint he was feeling wasn't even possible in a dream.

Mitch stared into his eyes. He stared at them silently, as if trying to decide whether or not he was going to believe them.

Mitch didn't break eyecontact with Scott as he spoke in a clear voice.
"Tell me her name."

Kirstie seemed confused, but Scott seemed to know exactly was he was referring to.
He stepped forward, and this time, Mitch didn't stop him.

He spoke in a soft tone,
"Abigail Ann."

Mitch burst into tears, covering his face with his hands and didn't stop Scott when he wrapped his arms around him.
"How are you here?" Mitch repeated over and over until it hurt to speak.

Scott just held him tightly, squeezing his eyes shut as he replied.

"I don't know.... I don't know..."

****

Kirstie had to go to work.

Apparently her saying "my best friend is back from the dead" didn't seem like a good excuse.

So Scott and Mitch sat next to each other on Mitch's bed, Mitch holding both of Scotts hands tightly.

"W-what's the last thing you remember?" Mitch whispered. Scott would normally tell Mitch to stop digging his nails into his hands, but considering the circumstances, he didn't even flinch.

"We we're having a lazy day... it was May first. The day before our anniversary... I remember we were making cookies but it took hours because we kept ending up making out or... Or like throwing flower at each other or singing and being silly." Scott replied, giggling quietly afterward.

But then he remembered a little more.
"I was... I was buying you something. I was buying you the... it was the coat, I was buying you the coat."
Mitch furrowed his eyesbrows and turned to face him.

"What are you talking about?" He asked softly. Scott looked at Mitch and shook his head slightly.
"I was buying you the coat, the pink coat you wanted. The store was closing in two minutes so I was running. It was a green light but I looked and nobody was coming. I swear, I saw nobody but then I..."
Scott trailed off.

"Why aren't you taking care of yourself?" Scott changed the subject quickly, taking in sigh of Mitch's face. No, he didn't look bad, he just looked different. Paler, his eyes looked duller... he just looked like he has given up on trying.

"Because there isn't--wasn't... there wasn't a point anymore. Scott I had to g-go and identify you. You were--" he squeezed his eyes closed and released a nervous sigh.

"Why do I feel like this is all just a dream?" Mitch mumbled to himself. Scott chuckled sadly.
"I keep saying that, too." Mitch opened his eyes and looked into Scott's eyes.
Although a part of him still refused to believe this was Scott, he knew nobody could fake that.

The eyes.

"It's been exactly a year. Today is may 1st." Mitch softly said, tears pouring past his face and down his neck.
"Mitch?" Scott asked, not replying to Mitch's information. Mitch just nodded slightly.

"Where is Abigail?" He asked quietly. This seemed to cause Mitch even more sadness and stress, because the tears grew more rapid, and he began sobbing.

Scott was confused, but still pulled Mitch toward him to comfort him, or at least to try.

"I-I told them I couldn't do it on my home... someone else has her, I couldn't do it." He cried, his words broken. Scott closed his eyes, a few tears spilling out as well.

Abigail Ann was their daughter. Well, unborn daughter. They were adopting from a teenage couple. They'd be with them throughout the entire pregnancy, by the time Scott died, Abigail was supposed to be born in five weeks.

The couple heard about scotts death, and understood why Mitch couldn't take on a baby now. They found another couple, thankfully, before the birth.

And they made Mitch feel even worse. His daughter had to be put with someone else because he said no. He said he couldn't take care of her. His own daughter... well, I guess she's not actually his daughter then.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Mitch repeated to his husband. His husband who just came back from being brutally killed by a truck.

Mitch was being held, kissed on the head, and being spoken to by the man he was in love with, till death.

Although, now it seemed that death didn't do them part.

***
A/n
Want some a good freaking ptx story that I'm obsessed with?
Read "the hidden symphony" by TitanessOfMemes and you will not be disappointed, my friend.
(im not even kidding, i'm a changed human.)