Author's Note: I've decided I wanted to explore a little more into the characters and put a more serious spin on their story. Billy's way of fucking things up for Spencer IS hilarious—but did you ever notice the little things BJC does? Day to day things, like bringing Cleet's phone to him during 'The Candidate' without being asked, or saving him from Rajeev's karate chop. Billy may be terrible at the big things…but it's the little stuff I find heartwarming, because at the end of the day, Billy really does care for Spencer. That, and they have more sexual tension than Drake and Josh.

"It's just a sad song,
That pulls you along yeah
It's just a sad song,
And it won't take long…"

"Glop of the Gods, right buddy?"

At those words the ghost of Billy Joe Cobra perked up and swung round to grin at his kid, arms swinging out happily.

"You were listening to me after all!" He cried ecstatically, reaching out to pull Spencer into a hug. In retrospect he should have known better; Spencer knew him better than anyone ever had cared or wanted to. Something about him not playing well with others—whatever! That was in the past and now he had his little bromingo. The afterlife couldn't be better!

A roar interrupted their bro-onding moment and they both froze. Right—okay the afterlife WOULD get better as soon as this loser was out of their hair. Both ghost and human went wide eyed as the plane they were standing on shook from the power of the Boss' anger. As if that wasn't enough a massive hand still covered in peanut butter lifted up from the depths and they both yelled in terror. Billy went on auto and swirled round Spencer, grabbing him roughly by the waist and flinging them both toward the exit back into his and Spencer's room. Almost…there! The ghost put on an extra burst of speed to ensure their freedom, and in the end that proved to be the downfall.

They looked home free until the Elvis-wannabe boss monster slammed into Billy's ankle as he neared the back of the tv screen. The force was quick and heavy, and it was enough to knock him off his flight pattern, causing both he and Spencer to cry out. Billy in pain (apparently ghosts COULD hurt other ghosts) and Spencer called his name worriedly. The world spun and Billy's shoulder clipped the side of the screen, catching him even more by astonishment, and he floundered in midair as they streaked into the bright light.

"Gyah!" The ghost managed in surprise, and they toppled heavily through the glowing screen out into the large bedroom. The problem was they kept going, completely out of control. He was vaguely aware of Spencer's voice yelping his name as the room swung and spun, but Billy couldn't have answered even if he wanted to. Billy's grip on Spencer slipped—but that was fine right? Totally, Spencer would like land on the bed or the chair or something! They'd just flown over it! He heard a dull thud and wondered for a flash what on earth THAT noise was—but the next instant Billy was more concerned with the fact he had just face planted into the far wall of the room, right above the bed. That's when his own yelling was cut off abruptly and he stayed there a moment, body pressed flat and completely thrown for a loop. Woah…

Gravity didn't affect him in the slightest (not unless he wanted it too) so when Billy fell back down about five feet onto the mattress, it wasn't because of earth's pull. It was because he wasn't able to focus enough to maintain his floating ability, and he lay there a moment, staring dazedly at the ceiling and wondering why in God's name his glow in the dark stars were moving in circles around his head. Spencer had been right that one time, ghosts didn't feel pain. They did however, get disoriented enough that normal functions for them become hard or impossible. Something to do with electromagnetic waves do-dads or something, Billy wasn't sure. And right now, he didn't have time to dwell on it; they weren't out of the woods yet.

He tuned back into reality when an angry shout caused the birds to vanish. His eyes opened fully and he stared upside down at the glowing screen of the plasma across the room. Oh, dammit. His brain to slammed into high overdrive. Billy shook his head a couple times to clear his thoughts and untangled his long boneless legs from their clumsy knot. Right—the bossman guy!

"Hah!" He flung up and righted himself, clenching his fists as his eyes fell on the hand trying to reach out. He puffed his chest out and put the best bravado he could into his next words.

"Nice try laaaam-o, but you are totally no match for me and Spencersarus!" Billy Joe mocked, swinging his finger at the Boss in a 'tsk tsk' motion. The Boss glared at him from behind the TV screen and Billy felt his confidence slip, so he did what he usually did when he got too scared to handle the situation. He called Spencer into it, mostly because Spencer could literally make everything better.

"Right bro?" No answer. "…uh, bro?" The ghost blinked and cast around, eyes scanning the room for—

"Oh there you are!" He ducked the huge swinging arm still coming out of the flatscreen and hovered over his little bro. Who was lying in a heap of limbs on his side, facing a wall. Was kind of a weird position but hey. Billy had done worse to himself, including but not limited to the time he tied his overstretched body into two knots that took Spencer over two hours to untie. So Billy didn't really understand why it was such a big deal yet that his little bro wasn't responding to him like usual.

"Spence? I—HEY!" Billy gave an indignant shout as that monstrous hand swung a little too close to them—Spencer's hair moved from the breeze, and Billy glared over his shoulder at the screen. Funny how his fear didn't seem so bad when the thought of Spencer getting hurt overrode his emotions and thoughts. Narrowed, glowing blue eyes fell on the game console, trailing to follow the cord that connected it to the TV and—light bulb moment!

"Let's see how tough you are with no TV dipwad!" With a wicked grin Billy closed the space between them, momentarily forgetting about anything other than making sure this jacked up creep of a video game didn't get its grimy mitts on his little Bromeo ever again. No way in Hell was that happening, not as long as The Great Billy Joe Cobra was around to protect him!

Billy dodged the half out Boss monster and grabbed hold of the console, not caring for being gentle with it. He had like, 12 more in storage anyway. With a grunt and a fizzle of electricity the plug came out and Billy shot for the window, chucking everything out all in one go. It might have landed in the same UPS truck that delivered the game that morning but Billy didn't particularly care or notice. He was too busy brushing his hands together and feeling pleased with himself.

Man, Spence was gonna positively sing his praises over this latest heroic act!

Speaking of which…

"Close call right Spencestar?" Billy laughed as he turned around, expecting his kid to be back up and moving like he always was.

Now that the adrenaline from almost dying a second time was wearing off, Billy focused better. His eyes landed on the still crumpled form of his kid and it startled him so much he actually paused, unable to process. Why…was Spencer still lying like that? All facing the wall, on his side, arm flung awkwardly over his waist and unresponsive.

"Ah-hah…hey bro? The Boss is gone, it's all okay now. Billy Joe Cobra took care of it for ya!" Billy didn't really know what to do in this situation expect…talk more. It never failed, someone, usually Spencer, always responded and gave him the attention he wanted if he was obnoxious enough. So the ghost streaked back over to Spencer's side and bent over him, laughing sheepishly. He dutifully ignored the tiny fluttering feeling in a place where he thought his stomach used to be.

"What are you doing lying down on the job? Dude there's only so much beauty sleep you can get before it just doesn't do anything for ya anymore, Brotato! So c'mon, get up and we can go do something together now!" Billy called jovially as he waited for Spencer to move and answer him…or…or do something. Anything at all.

A few beats passed, and Billy gave a nervous laugh as Spencer failed to answer him. Billy felt something heavy in the pit of his stomach, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

"…Spence?" Nothing. It was then Billy Joe Cobra started paying attention to that little fluttering emotion, which had been steadily growing stronger. It was a strange alien emotion, and not one he was sure he liked at all. But he did know everything would totally be okay once Spencer answered him or gave him that wry little smile like always.

Billy reached out and took hold of the kid's skinny shoulder, pulling toward himself just a bit. Spencer's body rolled over at the gesture. Jeez, the kid just moved like dead weight—oh god don't think like that, never think the D word ever again man, you know how freaked out you get—and Spencer stopped moving only when his spine met the floor. The kid's head lolled a bit. And honestly, with his right arm and leg flopping lifelessly with his torso? He looked just like a rag doll, a discarded item no longer needed. The movement gave Billy Joe Cobra a first class view at the closed eyes and the gash arcing just over the kid's right eyebrow. It was highlighted by his pale skin, and emphasized the blood trickling slowly from the cut. Blood.

That was Spencer's blood. Billy stared and glanced up a little bit at the wall he'd pulled Spencer from. Blood. On the wall he'd collided with, staining it. And again, fresh and bright red, dribbling lightly down the side of his face until it ran into his thick brown hair and slowed. Bl….ood…?

"Nh…heh, uh Bro you, you got a little…a little…" The ghost's voice trailed off, staring vacantly at the kid's head wound as his mind fought to work through what it was he was seeing. Something, maybe the part of him that wasn't alive anymore, started do weird things to his psyche. It felt like his mind was being torn in two, and the lack of Spencer, or his smile or his warm body, was only making everything worse.

Ghosts never got hurt!—He wasn't a ghost—yes he was—Yeah, okay HE was but Spencer wasn't—Spencer's fine! He's always fine!—No, no he wasn't something was wrong, Spencer was wrong, e-everything was WRONG!

A loud shatter broke him from his thoughts and Billy looked up at the ceiling, staring dumbly at the shattered light fixture for a moment. Had he…done that?

"…Spencer?" Billy finally asked in a tiny un-popstar tone as he turned back to the unmoving form. He sounded like a little kid, and maybe that's all Billy had ever been. It took all his will power to look back at Spencer, and even more to tear his gaze from the blo—red stuff—and notice the parted lips and the way the kid's chest rose, just a little bit. Shallowly was better than none at all, but Billy didn't know how he knew that. He just did.

"Spence…wake up." He tried again, tentatively reaching a hand out, but he didn't make contact. Honestly, the way Spencer wasn't answering him was enough to scare Billy right out of the afterlife and into a new one. Billy heard a sad noise, like a sob, and it took him a moment to realize the noises were coming from him. He ignored them though, and gingerly hauled his little bro into his lap and held him against his chest. When Spencer slumped down against him, the ghost winced as if he'd been struck. This was NOT normal Bromingo behavior. Spencer always reacted! Even when he was asleep and having a nightmare, and Billy settled next to him to hum a song to calm the little guy down. Even conked out and snoring to prove it the kid moved in his sleep, usually burrowing into the blankets but rolling up against Billy's cold chest. Spencer did none of this now. Panic started creeping through him, making his blue fingers tingle faintly with something that didn't come when you were human. Or when he was around Spencer.

"C'mon buddy, knock it off. This isn't funny anymore!" Billy tried, voice getting louder and a little scolding, as if he could yell the kid awake. Because this totally was a game, right?

Shit, why hadn't he noticed until now how small Spencer really was? He was downright fucking tiny, just a damn kid.

Because before he'd always gotten back up? Billy shuddered at the nasty thought in his head and he leaned protectively the human's frame. But it's a little late for that now, isn't it ghost? The thought struck him hard and his mind reeled as he stared down at his best friend's body. Billy's arms tightened round Spencer's frame and he leaned down, calling his name softly. The floor and walls shuddered around them, or maybe Billy was doing it, he couldn't be sure. All he knew was—Everything hurts, I hate this and I'm scared and Spencer can make it better, wake up, wake up!

"Spencer, please, please wake up!" No, no this was not happening—Spencer's fine, he's fine, he's alright, you're alright—But the kid wasn't moving or waking up, or doing anything at all that Billy loved—No, he's alright, nothing's wrong, don't lose it man, you gotta focus, you gotta—!

"SPENCER!" It was a shout accompanied with the sound of shattering glass. Everything that ran off electricity in the mansion flared and exploded with a shatter of glass and a fizzle of light. Spencer's face was cast in a dim eerie glow cast by the spectral glow of Billy's skin, and he hated it.

And still, Spencer ignored him.

"…S-Spencer…?" He closed his eyes, guilt and pain crushing his chest and spreading outward. He felt so, so…helpless—Spencer's fine except he's not and you did this, you did this to him you monster, you ruined his life now too!—What the hell could he do anyway? He didn't know how to help his little bro. Everyone was afraid of him in the house or couldn't see him—Your fault too, you couldn't take care of yourself let alone another life, younger than yours! Ruined! Waste! Pathetic! Die, Cobra, you snake!—and so Billy Joe Cobra, who suddenly felt as bad as Spencer looked, gently lowered Spencer's body to the floor with more care and tenderness than he'd shown anyone ever, in a long time.

You're fault. You're faultyou'refaulYOU'REFAULT.

"I'm sorry bro, I," He swallowed and pulled back when ectoplasm started leaking from his eyes. It became too much and the nasty thoughts in his head suddenly swelled up and consumed him, something thick and dark. His fisted hands hanging at his side suddenly went slack and his hands opened. He hadn't realized until now how much Spencer's presence kept it at bay.

"I'm so sorry."

"…hnh…"

Everything freaking hurt.

But mostly, his head hurt. As consciousness tickled slowly back to the young Wright, he became aware of that much. His head throbbed even, thumping in time with his own pulse. Okay, so he was alive, if he had a pulse. Right, that…that was good.

"Ohhh…" Spencer managed, gritting his teeth to fight the nausea. His limbs were moving slower than he expected when he first started moving. He took a deep breath before he trusted his eyes to remain open, and stared blankly at the ceiling for a long moment. He tried to focus, and after a few attempts it became easier. He was Spencer Wright. He was 14. He wanted to be a filmmaker. And he'd been playing Axe Maniac since he'd got it and, and then he…

Then he what? Oh…kay. Memory blank big time. Yikes.

He lifted a heavy arm and lightly prodded the area where his head hurt. The pain turned sharp at the contact and he flinched, hissing as he screwed his eyes shut. Not about to do that again. It took almost two minutes before he trusted himself and his muscles to sit up, and even then it took another three more minutes to do so. He rested against the wall of his bedroom and rubbed his right shoulder gently. That hurt too, now that his head subsided to a lower ache. Huh, he felt better when he sat up. Must have been the blood flow.

Spencer thought for a moment, and remembered dimly what transpired. The game had come to life, they'd doused the Boss in peanut butter and fled and—

And then what? Welp. This sucked.

Nervously the kid glanced over at the tv, but it was sitting there innocent and dark, the screen cracked. Wait—the screen cracked!? That hadn't been done by the Elvis Boss, had it? Where had it gone? Come to think of it, his console was gone to, even the controller. Spencer could only link the missing pieces together and assume (a little hopefully) that this meant the Boss was gone for good. The cracked screen and the fact a lamp was in shards on the floor a foot from him was a whole other mystery still.

"W-what the hell…"

How did he get here? Like this, lying on the floor of his bedroom with a splitting headache and utterly alone—

Woah woah woah. Hold up. He hadn't been alone for the past 7 months. Spencer kicked a neuron in gear and looked around as quickly as he could move without making himself dizzy, casting around.

Billy.

"Billy? Hey, Billy?" Spencer voice was weaker than expected. He winced at the sound of his tone and half expected the ex-popstar to come through a wall teasing his lame-o voice and posture. He kept calling the ghost's name though. He couldn't help it, he was a kid and he was hurt and he wasn't convinced he didn't need a hospital. He wanted Billy if only to know the ghost was alright, because even if Cobra made messes worse in every other aspect of his life the ghost's presence was usually enough to calm Spencer down. Billy was…was a constant, yeah that was the word for it. A constant in his life, screw up and egotistical maniac and all. Spencer needed him, and he needed him right now.

"Billy? Hey, if y-you can hear, come here man, I need…shit I think I need…gah! J-just come here!" He finished, letting a whine leak into his voice. What? The situation called for it, and anyway Spencer decided he didn't really care of the ghost made fun of him or not, he just really needed the guy. Maybe more than he'd ever care to admit.

And when that didn't happen, Spencer frowned and tried to stand up. Vertigo slammed his senses and his head throbbed in protest. So he slumped back down, holding onto the wall for support. He closed his eyes against the flash of pain and called for his best friend again. Billy almost always came when he called, if he sounded desperate enough and was in the vicinity. Hell, half the time Cobra swooped in before Spencer could get his first name out!

But when time stretched on and still the ghost didn't show up, Spencer's sadness slowly rekindled into righteous indignation. He didn't know what else to do so he got a little upset, a little hurt.

"F-fine…screw you, man." He spit the words with as much venom as possible, pained in more ways than one now. Spencer mustered what little strength he had left, fought the upheaval of his stomach as it crept up his throat and hauled himself up on shaky legs.

"…Y-you promised you'd always be there. I should have known you were lying a-about that too." He muttered, blaming the tears in his eyes on the fact he was bleeding from the skull. Well, not anymore, it seemed to have dried b-but still!

So Spencer Wright stumbled through his room unsteadily, clutching his head and sniffling. Had he been a little more aware, he might have noticed the floating guitar pick on a chain follow after him until he got to elevator, clutched in a blue (albeit invisible) hand.

"I didn't break my promise Bromeo. I'm, I'm still here." But Spencer didn't hear that, and Billy knew that. It didn't mean he had come to terms with it, because he kept speaking to the kid.

"I just…can't let you get hurt again. Cause next time you might not, might not get back up—" YourfaultYourfaultYourfault "And I don't know what I'd do if you weren't around anymore." Billy gave a humorless chuckle, speaking mostly to himself as he rubbed his arm and watched Spencer hit the 1 button on the elevator.

"But all the stuff that's tried to do you in, or control your mind or whatever was stuff that's been MY fault in one way or the other. And I, I'm really sorry little bro b-but if this is what keeps you alive then fuck it, I'm gonna do it."

He couldn't stop himself from floating after Spencer though, no matter how hesitantly. Spencer was his whole world and the words previously aimed at him stung, but not as much as Billy's own mental train of thought was. It felt like it was trying to kill him, again.

He was relived the kid was moving and it had taken what little self control he had not to fling around the kid and hug him tight. Maybe make a new promise that he'd never let go this time. His joy and relief had instantly flooded to chest constricting guilt when the first coherent words out of the kid's mouth were his name. Aw, jeez. To top it off each call sounded a little more desperate, a little more scared. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't taken the guitar pick off his kid's neck. He wondered if Spence's anger still would have bubbled to the surface and unleashed upon him.

That was that Billy had been afraid of, honestly. Billy Joe Cobra would rather die a second time than hear Spencer confirm his worst fear.

That this was all Billy's fault.

And god Billy couldn't even argue this time, could he? Sure—this whole fiasco might have been avoided by Spencer just listening to him and letting go of that dumb game. But there was no excuse for Billy dropping the kid and letting him slam head first into a wall! That was on the Cobra.

Billy moaned to himself and floated after the elevator, but was careful to keep in the dark shaft as it went down. Spencer might feel the cold that surrounded him and think he was still around.

And that was why, hurt and miserable and very much a ghost, the thought curdled in Billy's mind and seeped into his emotions, his actions. The regret was being amped by his ghostly nature, and he wasn't going to notice until it was much too late.

If he ever noticed at all, that is.

Not 100% sure if I should continue this. I like it, so I just might!