Gold And Coal (Ryden AU)

1.15 ◇ Memories

The next few days consisted of me lying in bed, getting served food, which finally began to look like actual food, and being taught to read.

It was very confusing, but I was quite eager to learn, partly because I had nothing else to do during the day, and partly because I enjoyed flipping through the newspapers.

"You... ca..n.. have... it... now... but... it's... nine... in the... afternoon..."

Brendon had given me the book he had been reading over the past few weeks and was now watching me with raised eyebrows as I stuttered out word after word.

"What?"

I shrugged and pointed at the sentence I had been reading.

"Ryan, that's an 'm'. So it's 'mine'. Nine doesn't even happen in the afternoon."

"Oh."

How were you supposed to tell them apart anyway? I kept confusing 'n' and 'm'.

Besides, the letters weren't even the main problem. The hard thing was the confusing way in which some words were spelt, 'distraught' being one of them.

I decided to close the book; all these letters were swimming through my mind and driving me insane.

Another thing that was driving me insane was the fact that I knew I had to go see my father again soon.

"My father's coming back tommorow."

Brendon laid the book aside and pulled a pillow to his chest, burying his face into it.

I swallowed. I knew this moment would come sooner or later, but I had hoped it would be later.

"I'm sorry."

He truly was. I could hear it in his voice.

I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but my soul was crumbling behind that fasade. I was fucking terrified.

"My family misses me anyways," I lied, successfully keeping my voice steady.

"I'm really sorry... I'll try to figure something out," Brendon said guiltily, looking at me with big eyes that had 'sorry' written all over them.

I gave him a reassuring smile and shook my head slightly, trying to wipe that look off his face. There was nothing he should be guilty of. He saved my life numerous times, gave me food and a warm place to sleep.

He had shown me a whole different side of life, one that was worth living. And he had given me a taste of it, leaving me hungry for more.

"I'll bring you home tommorow morning."

"Thanks," I replied. I wondered if it would be the last I ever saw of Brendon. His job was done, he had shown me a brighter world, there was no reason for him to ever see me again.

Over the past week I had spent with him, I had noticed quite a few things. I hadn't seen him all that much, he was at work during the day and came back very late aswell, but some things hadn't gone unnoticed by me.

He always came into my room when he got home, and although we didn't talk much, his presence was somewhat comforting. He would read passages from his book to me, or would patiently listen to me trying to read. While he was reading, silently or out loud, I would close my eyes and listen to his voice, imagining the scene he told and forgetting about everything else for a moment.

I usually fell aslep during that and awoke when Brendon got up to get ready for work. I never asked him why he stayed with me, why he didn't go sleep in his own room, it would be out of line.

So although I knew nothing about him, I felt like I knew everything about him.

Maybe not his past, his dreams or his present, but I could tell when he was over thinking, when he was happy, or when he was sad.

He was an open book, which is why I found myself trusting him more than I probably should.

"What's your name? Your real name?"

I cocked my head sideways, narrowing my eyes in question. What did he mean?

"I searched the files today, and we don't have someone named 'Ryan' working for us," he elaborated, sending me a betrayed look.

Oh.

"My name's George Ryan Ross, but I go by Ryan," I explained, trying to fight back the laugh that was threatening to errupt any moment. He had actually gone through a dozen of files just to find mine. And I didn't even want to know what he had thought when he hadn't found one. Maybe that I was an undercover assassin or something.

I couldn't hold back a snort however, when his face loosened up in relief; he had really been genuinely worried about this.

"My full name's Brendon Boyd Urie," he grinned, chuckling at his own anxiety.

Well, at least we could add names to the small list of things we knew about each other.

I realized this was pretty sad, I had lived in his house for almost a week and we hadn't even known each others full names.

It was also pretty amusing, and apparently Brendon thought so too, because we both started laughing simultaneously.

I honestly don't think I've ever laughed that much; within a few seconds tears were steaming down my face.

It felt like all the bad was being swept away by waves of joy. A sudden happiness rolled over me and my heart felt lighter than ever.

Suddenly going back home tommorow didn't seem all that bad, nothing seemed to be bad at the moment, but that was only for the moment.

Fate wasn't done kicking my ass yet, I was still it's punching bag.

Moments pass and turn into memories, and what had seemed like a joyful moment at the time, soon turned out to be a memory I would cry over. You can't relive feelings, you can only relive pictures, and if something from those pictures is torn away from you, the feeling you associated with them stops being joy, but turns into sadness, and loneliness.

Memories may be a beautiful thing, but memories also cause you the most pain.

~ All these precious moments that we carved in stone are only memories after all ~