laughingtale: (bandslash)
[personal profile] laughingtale
Title: There's No Light On In Chicago
Author: [ profile] wordsaremyfaith
Fandom: Panic! at the Disco
Pairing: Jon Walker gen
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 434
Disclaimer: I do not know these people, this never happened, I am making no money off of anything.
A/N: For [ profile] 15minuteficlets' Word 18. I really, truly apologize for the title; it was one of those things where once you think of it, you just have to use it, even though you recognize how ridiculously lame it is.

I'm not sure people will really care about this one, but I wrote it so I felt like I should post it. Basically. Even though I didn't quite do what I meant to with it. Set in some nebulous time when Jon has an apartment in Chicago by himself, and the rest of the band is in Vegas or something? If this never happened, just pretend it did. Shhh.

Jon's at home alone when the power goes out.

His first thought is to call someone, Brendon maybe, Ryan or Spencer, or his mom, even, but he'd been just about to charge his phone and it's pretty much completely dead. His second thought is that he hasn't had dinner yet, and that might be a problem. There's gotta be a pizza place or something open, though, so he should try to get there before the rush. He throws on his coat and heads out the door.

Chicago is dark, darker than he can ever remember seeing it. Logically, Jon knows there must've been power outages before, more than a few, but he can't remember actually leaving the house during one. The cars whiz by on the freeway, the only lights in a sea of darkness. It seems incredibly wrong, somehow, to look up this way at these buildings he's seen his whole life, no longer the lit-up Chicago skyline.

He walks three blocks to his pizza place, and yeah, they're open, thank god. Brick-oven pizza is a lifesaver. Apparently no one else has realized it's a good idea yet, so he doesn't even really have to wait.

Jon thinks about taking the long way home, wandering around for a while in the dark just for the hell of it, because how often does he get that chance? But it strikes him as incredibly stupid, somehow; as well as he knows these streets, he's never seen them like this, and it wouldn't be worth it to get lost.

When he gets home and lets himself back in, Dylan meows up at him accusingly and entwines himself around his legs. "Okay, boy," Jon says, struggling out of his coat awkwardly with the pizza box in one hand, "Just give me one minute." He sets the pizza down on the table in front of the TV and checks Dylan's bowl. Empty. After feeding him, Jon finds a match. He lights candles and sets them all over the living room, grabbing his book. For the next hour or so, he and Dylan curl up on the couch, the candles flickering all around them.

Jon's stopped noticing that the power's out when it surges back on, startling him enough to knock Dylan off his lap. Dylan stalks unhappily away, and Jon can't say he disagrees with his cat. It was kind of nice, reading by candlelight, not having to worry about anything because there was nothing else he could do. So he gets up, turns off all the lights, and keeps reading. He'll charge his phone in the morning.
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