Infinite, sometimes

20

Ryan had made the mistake of not looking at the clock before he closed his eyes, but he woke up to see Brendon sitting on the edge of the bed. Brendon's lower back was resting against Ryan's thighs and he was leaning over with his elbows and arms on his lap, rocking back and forth in very small motions. Ryan decided to enjoy this time, deciding to quietly watch his friend who appeared to be deep in thought. It was about a minute before Brendon felt Ryan's eyes tearing into him and he turned to make eye contact, something that was starting to become easier for each of them.
"You fall asleep fast."
"How long was I out?"
"Only about a half hour, I guess. I didn't wanna wake you up right away."
"It's alright. What'd she want?"
"Few bags of trash to take to the garage. Then I had to put the new bags in and do some other stuff, nothing big."
"What's wrong now though?"
"Nothing. Thinking, that's all."
Ryan chuckled and lifted his hand to the Jimmy Eat World poster above his head. "Nice one. Good song, you know."
"Of course."
"Hey." Ryan lowered his arm and reached over to Brendon, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. "That's better."
"Yeah it is."
"What were you thinking about?"
Brendon shrugged and fell sideways, holding on to Ryan's hand and ensuring that Ryan's arm stayed underneath his body. Ryan didn't disagree, but he adjusted himself to bring his arm up underneath Brendon's neck as he found himself face to face with the back of Brendon's head. All of Brendon's fingers were occupied with Ryan's hand, studying each of his fingers and tickling them gently as Brendon seemed to be on a mission to run his fingers over every bit of skin on Ryan's hand. "I don't know. It was quiet so I just decided to think."
"About what, though?"
"Don't know."
"Of course you do."
"I've just felt really good this week, that's all. I mean, even if it's been pretty shitty a few times... I don't know, for some reason, this past year or so, everything has just been really bad, but this week is the first time anyone has really taken time to notice it..."
"How could anyone not see it?" Ryan brought his face closer to Brendon's head so he could whisper and avoid being too loud, which meant his chest was pressed safely against Brendon's back.
"It's easy for them to see whatever they wanna believe. But you're like me, though. Or at least you were. I guess it's just hard to miss when you're familiar with it."
"Yeah, I know. I guess you just know what to look for sometimes." Ryan was beginning to lose himself in the scent of whatever shampoo Brendon used.
"Ry?"
"Yeah?"
"No one's ever cared about me before."
"Me either."
"But Spencer and Ellen, though..."
"Not like this, Bren."
"Oh, yeah. I guess."
"They care about you too, Brendon."
"Just not like this?"
"Not like this."
"Well I care about you, Ryan."
"I'm glad you do."
"That's what I was thinking about."
"Me?"
"Mainly, yeah."
"Then why did you look so upset?" By this point, Ryan's free hand was not so free anymore as it had started to disappear into Brendon's hair.
"I just think too much."
"But you say I make you happy."
"You do, and I guess, in a way... I don't know, I guess it makes me sad."
"I want you to be happy, though."
"Ryan, I can't really talk about it."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I think words can just ruin things."
"Nothing can ruin this." Ryan folded his fingers over and squeezed whatever fingers Brendon had placed near the palm of his hand at the time.
"I know, I just think this says more than... than I really want, I guess. Can we just be like this for a while with no more questions? I really don't feel like talking."
Ryan felt wetness on his arm, close to where Brendon's eyes were, but he decided against speaking about it. He addressed it instead by moving his head forward so his face rested against the back of Brendon's neck. "Of course." His left arm was bent and resting on Brendon's side, his hand gripping Brendon's shoulder as if he was trying to pull him closer. His right hand was still being examined by Brendon, although the investigation had died down to a steady, localized circle being traced on his palm by Brendon's thumb. The thick silence felt like it lasted forever, but neither boy minded. It was not thick with tension, but it was thick with everything that neither of them could say.
"I wanna ask you something, Ry."
"Anything."
"Last night. Online?"
"Yeah?"
"You said something to me."
"Yeah."
"Something about telling someone you care about them."
"Yeah."
"Ryan?"
"Hmm?"
"I meant it when I said I cared about you."
"So did I."
Ryan felt Brendon's body shake slightly, once, as if he were unable to control himself for that brief moment. "Turn over, Bren. I wanna look at you."
"Not right now you don't." Brendon sniffed and shifted his head to wipe his eyes against Ryan's arm. He quickly lifted his head to expose his other ear as the sound of footsteps on the stairs started to grow louder. "Fuck, if she's coming in here, she's not gonna knock. Sit up."
Ryan followed Brendon in sitting up faster than he ever had before. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat awkwardly next to Brendon, instantly aware once again of the cold temperature as it stung his body that had been kept unnaturally warm by a combination of Brendon and the blanket.
Sure enough, as Brendon had predicted, the door flew open and his mother stood in the doorway holding a pizza box, a can of Mountain Dew, and a plastic cup. Her eyes darted around the room before she sat dinner down on the corner of the nightstand.
"Only had one of your sodas left, so you'll have to share. There's a cup there for that. You don't mind pepperoni, do you Ryan?"
"Oh, no, it's fine."
"Alright then. You guys share that, then. Brendon, just don't eat too much, I worry about your health sometimes, Sweetie."
"Yeah, thanks Mom." Brendon scratched his head and turned toward Ryan, rolling his eyes.
"You guys... didn't you say you had a project to work on?"
"Oh, yeah, we just..."
"Brendon, I'm not stupid. Now I told you you can have your friends over, and I don't think it is necessary for you to lie to me about it."
"Sorry."
"Why would you tell me that if it weren't true? You couldn't just ask me if Ryan could come over?"
"Sorry."
"Don't let it happen again, Brendon. Just be honest with me." Grace messed with Brendon's hair once more before she turned to leave, pulling the door shut behind her and leaving Ryan staring at her son, who appeared to be terrified of something.
"You alright?"
Brendon nodded and pointed to the consumables on the nightstand.
"Hey." Ryan put his arm around Brendon's shoulder and used his hand to turn Brendon's face so he could look at him. "Before you get all upset, tell me what you think she was saying there."
"I already told you, she hates me."
"Bren, no..."
"You saw how mad she was."
"That's the thing, though. She wasn't mad at you."
"Yes she was."
"Okay. Will you believe me if I promise to tell you the truth?"
Brendon nodded.
"Alright. What just happened here... all she was saying was she wanted you to not lie about what you're doing, okay? It's a total mom thing to do, really, and she wasn't mad."
Brendon was silent and his eyes were fixed on Ryan's mouth.
"I'm just going to have to point things out to you, I guess, and I'm fine with that. Think it might help you understand what's going on? Because I think you need help... just... knowing what she's saying, I don't know, Bren, I'm sorry. I'm awful at this."
"No, you're fine. You're right though and if you hadn't said that to me I'd be fucked right now, but you're right, she wasn't pissed and I apparently understand things totally wrong. I just want food." Brendon leaned across Ryan's lap and grabbed the box from off the table.
"This weekend is going to be amazing, seriously. Saturday's going to rock."
Brendon nodded, his mouth full of half a slice of pizza, and Ryan almost shared some of Grace's concern for Brendon's health as the boy seemed to be in the process of planning on inhaling the entire pizza. Ryan decided to help himself while it lasted, temporarily ending the conversation as he sat with his leg pressed against Brendon's to help support the box. After two slices, he opened the can of soda and decided to bypass the cup, taking a small drink before placing it in Brendon's open hand. Apparently, nobody really wanted to use the cup.
Ryan didn't bother trying to tell Brendon to slow down. He was just glad to see him eating, and knowing how Brendon is, he was afraid to make him develop some kind of complex about eating. Ryan couldn't stop glancing at the sauce that decorated the corners of Brendon's mouth and he had to keep looking away to avoid laughing. In the end, they had finished all but two slices, which Brendon decided to deliver to Seth. While Brendon was away, Ryan took it upon himself to sift through Brendon's closet and take note of the abundance of solid colored t-shirts and different jackets; some with hoods, some without, some with holes torn through the sleeves, presumably where Brendon would stick his thumb to keep the sleeves down all the time. Ryan cringed when he remembered his own reasons for tearing thumb holes in some of his clothes and he moved on to the other end of the closet, eyeing up the many long sleeved dress shirts that were in conditions that suggested that Brendon probably didn't wear them to look nice.
Ryan wasn't sure how long Brendon had been standing behind him, watching him examine all of his clothing, but Ryan didn't have any room for embarrassment since he was still preoccupied by the thumb holes in some of the sleeves. He turned away from the closet and hugged Brendon quickly. "What's with all those dress shirts?"
"What do you think I wear in the summer? They're a little lighter than the jackets, but I only wear them if it's absolutely too hot for a sweater."
"You're crazy."
"I know." Brendon's face sank slightly with his words, and Ryan knew he was hearing things the wrong way again.
"No, no, I didn't mean that. Sorry." Ryan tossed himself down onto the bed and stuck his arms straight out. "Lay dooooown!"
Brendon grinned and jumped down onto the bed and he found himself wrapped completely in Ryan's arms for a short moment in an exaggerated hug before Ryan became a little more serious and loosened his grip, pulling away a small distance to be able to see Brendon's face.
"I saw all those holes in some of your sleeves."
"Oh."
"What are they for?"
"Keeps the arms covered."
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want to think about that right now."
"What should we think about, then?"
Brendon exhaled slowly and closed his eyes, moving his head to lay against Ryan's chest. Brendon almost wished he could hear with his forehead because he wanted the sound of Ryan's heart to put him to sleep. "I sort of don't wanna think about anything right now."
"Fair enough." Ryan squeezed Brendon and laid his face against the top of Brendon's head. "Glad we're friends, you know."
"Oh so am I."
Ryan barely had enough time to smile before Grace's shrill voice echoed from downstairs. "Brendon, get down here!"
Brendon sighed angrily and sat up halfway, turning to look toward the door to yell to her. "What do you want?!"
"Get down here!"
Brendon crashed back down, this time with the side of his head landing gently on the side of Ryan's while he spoke, their faces peering in opposite directions and their ears perfectly positioned on top of each other. "Goddammit. I can't get a fucking break." He quickly lifted his head and stood up to adjust his sweater. "You might as well come with me. If she's gonna make me do shit while you're here, I might as well get to spend time with you while I'm doing it."
Ryan wasn't about to object. He followed Brendon downstairs and into the kitchen, where Grace was occupied with something that Ryan didn't feel like concerning himself with.
"Mom?"
"Yeah, I just wanted you to take this in to Dad." Grace nodded toward a cup of tea and a pack of cigarettes that sat on the counter.
Brendon glanced at the items and then into the living room, where his dad rested in his recliner in front of the television. "Why can't you do it?"
"Excuse me?"
"He's right in there. It's only a few feet. Why did I have to come all the way down here when I'm supposed to be spending time with my Ry—my friend, just to do something that YOU could have easily done?"
Ryan was terrified and he desperately wanted to jump in front of Brendon and tell him to stop, apologize, and do what was asked of him, even if he didn't like the thought of Brendon 'being their bitch,' as Seth liked to put it.
Grace had fully abandoned her previous task and she had turned around to glare at her son in disbelief. "Excuse me? I believe what you meant to say was 'yes, Mom, I will do as I am told,' correct?"
Ryan could feel the intense anger and he slipped to the side, picking up the tea and cigarettes and managing to escape to the living room with them, unnoticed by anyone other than Brendon's father, who smiled and thanked him for the favor, seemingly oblivious to the civil war that was shaping up in the kitchen. Ryan, on the other hand, was totally aware of what was going on.
"No, Mom, what I meant to say was I'm not doing a fucking thing for you because I'm sick of being your bitch all the time."
Ryan was completely shocked by what he heard come out of Brendon's mouth, and he turned to look at him in disbelief just in time to see Grace's open hand slam into Brendon's cheek with a loud snapping sound. "You do NOT speak to me like that!"
Ryan watched as Brendon instantly brought his hands up to his face and turned to the wall. It seemed like slow motion as Brendon brought his head back before throwing it into the wall hard enough to shake pictures that hung on it several feet away, and Brendon let out the most pain-laced sob Ryan had ever heard in his life. Brendon stood pressed into the wall with his face in his hands, and Grace seemed confused by her son's quick reaction and Ryan didn't understand right away, either, briefly thinking to himself that a quick smack was the least he could hope for some nights. But Ryan quickly realized that Brendon's life was different, and terror set in as soon as Ryan realized what happened and the emotional consequences that would surely follow. All of a sudden, Brendon's parents had not never hit him, and Ryan was crushed.
Grace licked her lips as if she was preparing to speak, but she just looked questioningly at Ryan as he quickly approached her son. "You guys... you just go upstairs. I'll be up in a while to discuss this."
Ryan nodded, noting the concern in her face, and he quickly began to ignore her. He was torn between awkward feelings about his closeness with Brendon, and the fact that all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around the boy and sink down to the floor with him. Brendon was crying loud enough that Seth had rushed downstairs and started to talk, but Ryan was too focused to really hear anything he was saying.
"Bren, just breathe. Please calm down."
Brendon shook his head and pressed himself against Ryan. Ryan didn't say anything else. He just guided Brendon toward the stairs, but he was forced to let go and run after him when Brendon bolted up to his room. Ryan made an effort to not slam the door and he attempted to lock it before realizing that there was no lock on the knob, and this realization took place just when Ryan didn't think he could get any angrier. Brendon had thrown himself onto the bed with his back pressed against the cold wall, and Ryan laid down beside him, forcing his hands away from his face.
"Bren, you're okay."
"No."
Ryan looked at Brendon's bright red cheek and the nasty lump forming on his forehead, and he almost saw some truth in what Brendon had said. "You are. You're okay because I'm here."
Brendon sobbed louder and pushed himself against Ryan, his head lodged underneath Ryan's chin and his arm thrown around Ryan's body as he tried to make sure Ryan couldn't go anywhere. "I told you... they wanted to do that. They always have and now they fucking did and I am a goddamn waste."
"Don't let me hear you say that."
"Then I'll fucking say it to myself if you don't want me to talk to you."
"I didn't mean that."
"So you lie now, huh?"
Everything good Ryan had built was starting to crumble, and the walls he had torn down were going right back up again. He was struggling to keep himself stable enough to talk to Brendon. "Listen to me, Brendon. I want you to breathe. You're okay. You think I'm going to let anything happen to you while I have you here? There's not a fucking chance, Kid, now please try to calm down because it's killing me to see you like this." Ryan was not too proud of the fact that for the first time, he mentioned himself. He had never wanted his concern for someone to come out of concern for himself, but with his emotions threatening to set him on fire, he had no choice. He had to start begging.
"I hate this."
Ryan's mind was starting to leave him, being pushed out of the way by the desperation that tended to make him too honest too often. "I know you do."
"Why can't you fix this?"
"I want to, Baby, I really fucking do."
"We need to leave."
"Where can we go?"
"Anywhere. Not here. I just want you."
"We... can't leave, Bren. I am so, so sorry." Ryan didn't care enough anymore about his appearance. He let himself join Brendon in tears as he bit his cheek almost hard enough to draw blood, sending a small rush of endorphins though his head.
"Why did she do that?"
"She was mad, Bren. She was."
"Do you believe me yet?"
"About what?"
"I'm fucking worthless."
"I wouldn't care about you if you were worthless."
"You're wrong because I am shit, Ryan. You should fucking know this."
"Brendon."
"I'm done with this, Ryan."
"No you're not."
"Yes I am."
Ryan decided that this was a time where words weren't going to fix anything. He pulled Brendon's left arm off from around him and he shoved it between their bodies, laying his hand under Brendon's hand. "Squeeze. Just fucking squeeze. You're not going to hurt me."
Brendon listened. Maybe Ryan was a little wrong about that last part, but he didn't mind. After only a few seconds, it was too hard for him to watch Brendon's face, so he did the only thing that seemed appropriate at the time, since words had lost all meaning and his hand was having the life squeezed out of it. Ryan laid his lips against the lump on Brendon's forehead and he squeezed his eyes shut, the remainder of his tears oozing out of them slowly as he considered himself calm, relaxed almost, while his hand allowed Brendon to relax as well.
Brendon's right arm had found its way under Ryan's neck and his hand was busy pulling Ryan's head forward, which forced Ryan's lips further against the product of Brendon's head crashing into the wall. At one point, Brendon's hand had slipped into his pocket and pulled out his lighter and Ryan barely had time to think before he tore the evil little machine away from his friend.
"No. It's not happening."
"I want it."
"Well I'm sorry, but no. I'm here and that is not going to happen."
Brendon cried lightly, moving his hand back to Ryan's and squeezing again. He felt helpless being kept away from the one thing that he could always use as an escape, but he felt a certain warmth knowing that someone cared about him enough to tell him no. He almost didn't know if he really wanted the burn or if he just wanted Ryan to keep him from doing it.
Words couldn't fix a damn thing, but Ryan knew his hand was doing a fine job of making things better. Brendon was breathing almost normally after a while and Ryan was holding on to these few moments where he knew that he was the only thing that stood between Brendon and total destruction. Brendon was not holding his hand for support like he had done in history class. He was clinging to him, holding on to every thread of Ryan's being to try to keep himself alive. If words couldn't fix anything, music could. Ryan kept his lips in place as he used his face to push Brendon's head back, moving it enough so that he could bring his own head closer to Brendon's. Their cheeks brushed together lightly while Ryan positioned his mouth close to Brendon's ear, close enough so that his whisper could flood Brendon's mind. Ryan always thought his singing voice sounded better when he whispered.
He couldn't quite sing at first. The first few lines came out in a calm whisper with slow, drawn out syllables. He was trying. "The first star I see... may not be... a star...."
Brendon recognized the words. He instantly decided he didn't care about the lack of lock on his bedroom door, and he lifted his hand out from between their bodies, slowly, lifting his head with a small turn, and he brought his hand around to the back of Ryan's head.
            Ryan could sing now. He just had to let himself. "We can't do a thing but wait... so let's wait, for one more..."
Brendon forced more tears out of his eyes and he pulled Ryan's head into his, pressing their cheekbones together and holding still, holding himself against Ryan.
Ryan wanted to sing the part that meant the most. "I'm careful but not sure how it goes... you can lose, yourself in your courage, when... the time we had now ends..."
Ryan was seeing once again how quiet Brendon could be when he was in the depths of wishing himself away, but he didn't want Brendon to want to be anywhere else but right there at that moment. "...when... the big hand goes 'round again... can you still feel the butterflies... can you still hear the last goodnight..." Ryan trapped Brendon's other ear between his thumb and forefinger. It was warm and even without looking, Ryan could feel the redness as it was filled with blood, almost throbbing from the force of the screams that Brendon was holding in. Ryan didn't want Brendon to want to leave. He had created a home for his friend in his arms, and holding onto his ear was about the last thing he could do to get him to stay.
"And the mindless comfort grows, when I'm alone with my big plans... and this is what she said gets her through it..."
Although through clenched teeth, Brendon's breathing was beginning to slow. His cheek was warm and wet against Ryan's face and Ryan could almost smell the salt that accompanied the water that poured out of his friend's eyes. Brendon was like a wall preparing to burst under years of built up emotion that acted as an angry river if it were not for the saltwater, threatening to flood and turn everything around it into muddy rubble and washed out fields of dead flowers and ruined landscapes.
"If I don't let myself be happy now then when... if not now when, the time we had now ends, and when the big hand goes 'round again... can you still feel the butterflies... can you still hear the last goodnight..."
Ryan could feel Brendon's fingers digging into the back of his head, pulling each of them closer to each other. Brendon was falling apart, but Ryan wasn't sure if it was as bad anymore. He could feel Brendon's other hand between them as the boy held the collar of his shirt—Ryan's shirt, but now his—over his nose and mouth. Ryan tilted his head slightly to make room as Brendon essentially found a way to breathe life out of that piece of fabric. Ryan knew he had finally done something right, and he let his voice continue against Brendon's ear.
"I close my eyes and believe... that wherever you are, Angel for when, the time we had now ends... and when the big hand goes 'round, again... can you still feel the butterflies... can you still hear the last..."
Ryan pulled himself away from Brendon's face as he started to whisper the last few words, fighting hard against Brendon's hand on the back of his head. He let go of his friend's ear and he brought his hand to the side of Brendon's face, his thumb resting right beside Brendon's eye and for the first time in his life, he was unable to cut the connection between his eyes and the eyes of another person."...goodnight."
Brendon's lips separated slightly and he took a breath, presumably the only possible way for him to breathe for the time being. He was calm with his lips trembling slightly but Ryan was glad that Brendon was at least still alive. He shifted his left arm underneath Brendon's neck and he held him tightly, his hand still on Brendon's face, and everything was silent while Ryan felt an incredible amount of life just resting within the confines of his arms, inside the boy that he had to hold together. Ryan never thought he could be so comfortable with his face so close to another person's.
Brendon's lips parted a little more and his mouth drew in another small taste of air and Ryan almost wanted to prevent what was about to be said from ever even happening. He was happy with all their unspoken understandings and he was prepared to defend them with almost as much energy as he had just used to keep Brendon with him.
"Bren, I care about you... I do..."
Ryan could hardly speak. It was harder than he had imagined and he realized that his voice was stuck too deep inside his throat to make much more sound. Brendon's eyes didn't move, their connection with Ryan's never breaking as his mouth began to move. Brendon's lips formed the words that Ryan had been avoiding, ignoring, completely disregarding, and Ryan froze with the sound of Brendon's voice. It was calm and relaxed with the sound of certainty, so much more confidence than Brendon had ever held before. "I love you too."
If Ryan couldn't talk before, there was no chance for him anymore. The words hung in his ears and he nodded, slowly, never taking his eyes away from Brendon's. He swallowed and found the strength to adjust his arms again, this time simply wrapping them completely around Brendon's body and hugging him like he did so many times before. It felt exactly how Ryan knew, in the back of his mind, that it would feel: it felt no different from the first time they hugged, when Brendon thanked him for only doing what felt right in history class. This hug even felt like that moment as well, it made Ryan feel exactly how he felt as he sat in class, with Brendon's hand wrapped inside his own, and Ryan suddenly realized something. He felt no different now than he had been feeling all week. Once again, Spencer was right. Ryan had been scared for no reason. His eyes opened eventually, and he pulled back to look at Brendon's face again. Ryan's involuntary words from the previous day's study hall still rang true, regardless of how worn Brendon's face was.
"Ryan..."
"Just say something."
"I mean it."
"I do too." Ryan could only manage a whisper.
"You meant it this whole time, Ryan."
"I know."
"So do I."
"Bren... listen..." Ryan loosened his arms to allow Brendon to breathe, and he laid his hand back down on Brendon's face, gently, right where his mother's hand had been before. "I'm here, Brendon. I've said it all along and I still mean it. I shouldn't have let this happen to you."
"You didn't make it happen, Ryan, but you didn't let it kill me and goddammit Ryan I just want to fucking stay... here..." Brendon pressed his face into Ryan's chest and started to curl up against him, his knees sticking into Ryan's legs.
Ryan momentarily reclaimed his hand in order to wipe his face and move his hair away. He slid his left arm under Brendon's head, still letting it lay against his chest, and he allowed his right hand to drift to Brendon's back in order to create large circles that he hoped would help Brendon stay calm. "We're here now. We might have to leave but we have this weekend. You're okay, Bren, I promise."
"Am I?"
"I'm here."
"I'm okay."
"You are."
Ryan's hand continued gliding across Brendon's back even though Ryan felt himself rapidly losing consciousness. He felt exhausted, as if what he had just done for Brendon had been an actual war. He was physically worn out from such a sudden, intense rush of things he had never felt before, and a gentle tapping at the door woke both boys up from their partial daze where neither of them had bothered to think about anything while they laid in each other's arms for an unknown amount of time. Ryan wanted it to last forever, but Brendon was trying to sit up, quickly rubbing the blanket across his face.
"Come here, just sit." Brendon swung his legs over the side of the bed and quickly tossed the blanket across their legs before looking toward the door, not sure who it was or how much movement they heard from Ryan and himself. "What?"
"It's Mom." Grace's voice sounded quiet and tired.
Brendon mumbled something under his breath before speaking. "Come in." He slid his fingers under Ryan's leg with his palm facing upward.
Grace made her way over to her son and lifted his head by holding his chin, forcing him to look away from Ryan's lap. She studied his face before placing a folded washcloth on his forehead and moving his exposed hand to hold it in place. "I thought you might need some ice."
"Thanks."
"Brendon."
"What, Mom." It wasn't a question. It was a statement that started to stab at Ryan's heart as soon as Brendon said it.
Grace pulled Brendon's desk chair over to the bed, sitting across from Brendon, who had resumed staring at Ryan's lap for safety. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened."
"Don't lie to me, Brendon. What happened out there? You aren't like this."
"Maybe I am."
"You're not."
"You don't know how I am."
"Then how are you?"
Ryan saw Brendon's face start to show emotion again, and he stopped caring about everything except Brendon himself. He brought his arm out from being folded against his stomach and he placed it around Brendon's shoulders, something Spencer had done for him countless times, and he assured himself that it was a completely normal response to seeing a friend in this state. He looked at Brendon, but he felt Grace glancing back and forth between the two of them, almost as if she expected Ryan to be able to answer just as easily as Brendon could.
"Just believe me."
"Believe what?"
"Just... nothing, I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For what I said. I'm sorry." Brendon sounded defeated and Ryan was almost angry with him for giving in so easily, but he knew that the last thing Brendon needed was more conflict, and he really couldn't blame him for looking for the easy way out this time around.
"Brendon there is something going on with you and I want to know what it is."
"I'm tired. Maybe I'm just still sick from the other day, I don't know, I'm sorry."
"Maybe you should just get to bed a little early tonight. Have you been getting enough sleep?"
Brendon shrugged as he adjusted the ice on his head and Ryan's hand slowly moved up and down his arm, allowing him to continue to feel emotion and start to crumble again.
"Brendon, what is wrong? You're a complete mess and I doubt your friend wants to sit here while you act like this—"
Ryan was extremely offended and he didn't know how he was able to stay so calm. "Oh I don't mind, he's... I really don't mind."
"Well, I would still like to know what the problem is. I was wrong for hitting you like that and I want you to know that I am sorry and I will never do it again, Brendon, but I want to know why you're doing this."
"That's it. That's why, okay? And you said you're sorry so it's fine." Brendon found yet another easy path to take and he sat up straight, putting on the fakest smile Ryan had ever seen, earning him an elbow in the side after Ryan took his arm away from his shoulders.
"That's fine then, but what about your little outburst earlier? That's not acceptable, Brendon, you know this."
"I fucked up, Mom. I—"
"Language."
"There's pretty much nothing I can do right anymore, okay?" Brendon could have just asked Ryan to put his arm back round him, but Ryan didn't mind if he wanted to get it this way.
"What are you talking about?"
"Nothing. I'm sorry. Just please let me forget about this."
"Alright. I'll tell you what. I think we both need to calm down for a while, get some sleep, and discuss this later, okay?"
"I'd rather not."
"Well, you're going to."
"Okay."
Ryan was very uncomfortable with the shy, scared tone Brendon's voice took on as he crossed his arms near the wrist, holding on to his forearms with his hands and leaning forward submissively.
"That sounds better." Grace looked to Ryan and smiled. "It was nice to meet you, I hope you haven't been scared away by all this." She leaned down to Brendon's level and put her arm around him, pulling him into her chest and Brendon tensed up a little as if he were unsure of the hug. "He is such a good kid but he just throws these fits sometimes, and he's getting a little too old for it, I think."
"I'm too old for a lot of things."
Grace pulled away and narrowed her eyes but she neglected to pay attention to what Brendon really meant. "Yes, well... you're welcome to come back anytime, Ryan. Just as long as Brendon can keep his priorities straight, but I think he'll manage."
Ryan nodded and tried to smile because he was afraid to open his mouth. He could sense Brendon screaming beside him and this thought made him feel sick.
"I'm going to his place this weekend."
"You are?"
"I'll be home Sunday."
"Is that so?"
"Please, Mom. I need to."
"The whole weekend? Is that really necessary?"
"Yes." Ryan heard familiar desperation in Brendon's voice and he wanted to fix it. He wanted to fix it in the one way he knew how, but it had to wait.
"Ryan, are your parents okay with this?"
"Yeah, talked to my dad, he's fine."
"Well. Do you think a little break from here would be good for you?"
Brendon looked up, a look of shock on his face, and he quietly nodded.
"I know you've been stuck here all summer. What's the plan for this weekend?"
"Um, I was just... Ryan's house tomorrow, and uh... there's a dance Saturday, and I guess we'll get to bed late and... sleep Sunday, I don't know..."
"Is student council doing anything for the dance that you have to work with?"
"Huh?"
"Student council, Brendon."
"Oh. Uh, I haven't heard anything, so probably not."
"Do you have a date for this dance?"
"Yes."
"Do I get to meet her?"
"No." Brendon took the ice off of his forehead and warmed the cold skin with his hand. "Sorry, it's just... not serious or anything, we're just kind of... going, I guess." He shot Ryan an apologetic glance pulled from the intense guilt he felt for belittling their plans for Saturday, and Ryan understood.
"Oh. Well. You have fun with your friends. I guess I'm okay with you staying at Ryan's, but I do expect you to give me his address and keep your phone turned on, understand? I need to be able to reach you if I want to."
"Yeah."
Grace stood up and returned the chair to its proper location and she scanned her son's bedroom, studying each of his posters. "You into music as well, Ryan?"
"Yeah, I am."
"What groups?"
Groups? "Oh, same stuff as Bren...don, really just the same bands and stuff."
"That's good. I don't know how you guys can stand to listen to that noise, but if it's what you like, I can't really complain." Grace held on to the doorknob as she studied Brendon's face from a distance. "Keep that ice on there so it's not so red in the morning and get to bed soon, okay? You have a way home, Ryan?"
"Yeah I'll just walk. I'm pretty close."
Grace nodded and she quietly pulled the door shut. Brendon picked at the now damp washcloth in his hand and he glanced over to Ryan, waiting for something to be said, but it was clear that Ryan couldn't form words.
"So did I scare you away yet?"
"You're not going to scare me away. She's full of shit."
"I need to go to bed if I don't want to piss her off more and make her tell me I can't be with you this weekend."
"I really don't wanna leave you." Ryan turned sideways, facing Brendon, and he pulled his friend to him so Brendon's shoulder was poking against his chest. Brendon tilted his head back slightly and laid it on Ryan's shoulder.
"Me either. But I'll be okay."
"I just worry, that's all."
"I know she's full of shit but I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to look at me again."
"I'd be missing out on a lot if I did something that stupid."
Brendon held back what he wanted to say in order to avoid upsetting Ryan. "Thanks."
"You don't need to thank me for that." Ryan squeezed Brendon one last time before bringing himself to his feet and heading to Brendon's closet again, sifting through his clothing and bringing out a shirt to examine it. "You like red, I take it?"
"I guess, I don't know."
"Well, you have that jacket, the shirt I'm wearing, and this..."
"Yeah I guess."
Ryan looked the shirt over and decided that the amount of wear on it had not quite ruined it yet. "Can you bring this tomorrow? And the shoes... I have everything else, I think."
"How about you just take it with you now?"
"Or that." Ryan blushed lightly and laughed, causing Brendon to do the same. Ryan was glad to see an honest smile on his friend's face. "Hey." He draped the shirt across the bed and took the cloth with ice out of Brendon's hand and lightly touched it to the boy's cheek. "I bet this feels good."
Brendon closed his eyes and nodded, and Ryan gently sat the cold cloth over Brendon's eyes. "After being all worked up like that I think this would feel nice. How about you just lay down and do this for a while and I'll call you when I get home?"
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Hey." Ryan wrapped his arms around Brendon, this time one of them around his neck and the other down around his waist. "Please be careful with yourself. You mean too much to me for anything to happen to you."
"I'm glad I have you."
"I'm glad I have you too."
"Call me?"
"I will. As soon as I get home."
"I'll be waiting."
"And I'll be running home, trust me."
Ryan picked up the shirt and folded it across his arm after tossing his bag over his shoulder. Homework would probably be getting the shaft yet again, but he didn't really mind. It was hard enough to force himself to walk out of that house.
The house was dark and the front door left unlocked for whenever Ryan decided to come home. His father knew he had a key, the same key he was given six years ago, even if the metal was slightly worn and not so silver anymore. But he left the door open anyway just so Ryan knew he was never supposed to stay away. The house was dark since the light outside had long since started to fade, but Ryan didn't have any trouble finding his room. He flipped the light on after he shut the door to avoid waking his father and he crashed down onto the bed with Brendon's dress shirt ending up on his stomach. There was no hesitation before Ryan reached into his pocket to pull out his phone but he was caught off guard by the presence of something unfamiliar. Along with Ryan's phone came Brendon's lighter, the one Ryan had quickly grabbed away from the boy without even thinking twice. Ryan couldn't remember sticking it in his pocket but that didn't change the fact that he was now holding it in his hand, squeezing it as if he could break the yellow plastic with his thin fingers. He continued to channel his distress this way as he called Brendon, pressing the green button on his phone twice to dial the most recently called number. They were apparently down to half a ring by this point and the next step was answering the phone before the call was even placed.
"Hey."
"Hey. Get home alright?"
"I did. Hey, guess what."
"You still have it."
"I do." Ryan pressed the lighter against the wall for no real reason and he heard a heavy sigh from Brendon. "How did you find it missing so soon?"
"I'm sorry."
"Tell me."
"Why would you make me tell you something you already know?" Brendon was starting to sound defeated again.
"If I make you say it..." Ryan suddenly felt like Spencer, trying to draw answers out of him when he already knew what they were going to be. "I don't know, I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have noticed."
"Do you have another one?"
"No, no I don't."
"Well just so you know, I didn't mean to take it. I mean I didn't try to, it just kind of happened."
"I figured."
"I'm not giving it back."
"I figured."
"Why were you looking for it?"
"I don't even know, I was being stupid."
"You're not stupid."
"I am when I do stupid things."
"I'm glad you know you shouldn't do it, but you're not stupid."
"Well you shouldn't rip skin off your fingers but you do anyway. You think I like that?"
Brendon had a point that Ryan couldn't argue with. "I've done that for years."
"I didn't just start this shit yesterday, either."
"Okay. Bren, I'll stop if you stop."
Brendon was silent.
"Please. You don't even know how hard that would be for me but I swear if you promise me this, I will do it."
"Do you really think I could even stop?"
"Why would you ask me that? Only you can really answer that, Bren."
"I don't know. I guess... I don't know, what you think is just... I don't know, it's important, I guess."
"I think you can do it."
"Really?"
"Yes. And I'm going to make sure you can, too, alright?"
"Whatever you say."
"You're not getting the lighter back."
"As soon as I realized it was gone, I knew I wasn't getting it back."
"When did you realize it was gone?"
"When I looked for it."
"When was that?"
"When I realized you were gone."
The lighter was now being pressed against Ryan's head. "I'm sorry."
"I just wanted something small."
"Brendon, it's never small."
"It can be. Compared to some of them."
"Just stop thinking about it. I don't want it to happen anymore."
"I guess it won't."
"What are you doing right now?"
"Talking to you. And uh... that's about it. Laying here."
"You know, it was good that you stood up to your mom, just... not as harsh next time, alright? Try to be a little more subtle."
"Yeah, I know."
"You goin' to bed soon?"
"I need to do some homework, but yeah, it won't take too long."
Ryan sensed the end of their conversation and he sat up on the edge of his bed. "I'm really excited for this weekend... I care about you, you know?" He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut after he spoke.
"Do you like saying that instead?"
Ryan nodded, but he knew Brendon couldn't hear his head moving. "Yeah, I guess."
"Then I care about you too."
"God, Bren... we're great, you know that?"
Brendon chuckled nervously. "Yeah. We're gonna totally own the dance."
"It's... it'll be good."
"Yeah. Hey, I need... I should really get going. I'm exhausted and I really need to do some stuff before I go to bed."
Ryan was disappointed even though he saw it coming. "I guess I can't say no to that. Spencer's getting me in the morning... is it alright if I ask him to grab you before he gets me? It's not too far out of the way, and... yeah. Want him to get you?"
"Sure, just tell him I'm sorry. And tell him he's not funny but I'm sorry for what I did. I guess I just take us more seriously than that, you know?"
The smile on Ryan's face distorted his voice slightly. "I do too and I guess I shouldn't have laughed because he knows as well as we do that he's not funny."
"It's alright. I just like knowing you feel the same way."
"You okay? You sound kinda quiet."
"I need to be quiet. I'm just... I don't know, tonight was amazing, even if that shit happened, you know?"
"Yeah."
"I'll be alright. Sleep fixes everything."
"I'm just glad sleep is good for you."
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, no, I'm used to it... you're... just don't worry about it."
"I feel like I'm bragging."
"Don't. Just enjoy that sleep, alright?"
"Yeah."
"You know I have my phone with me all the time and I want you to call me if you need anything. Or if you don't need anything, I don't care, just call me if you want, okay?"
"I know.  I like knowing you're always there."
"I am."
"Hey, Ryan?"
"Yeah?"
"Try to sleep well tonight."
"I will."
"Just pretend I'm there, 'cause I wish I was."
"I know. I will."
"Tell Spencer to call me before he gets here so I can be ready."
"Yeah."
"Alright. I'll see you in the morning."
Ryan searched for more words and reasons to not let go, but he couldn't find any that didn't sound desperate. "Goodnight Bren."
"Night Ry."
Ryan let Brendon end the call and he squeezed his phone while stashing the lighter away in his nightstand drawer. The letters from Brendon were folded neatly and laying next to the alarm clock, giving him something nice to fall asleep and wake up next to from then on, Ryan thought. It was no surprise that Spencer was just as quick as Brendon was to answer his phone, simply out of habit, never wanting to leave Ryan waiting whenever he needed him. Ryan was fairly certain that he had his own distinct ringtone on Spencer's phone.
"Hey man. Ya alright?"
"Yeah. What's up?"
"Talking to El on the computer. You gonna get on?"
"I don't think so. Just wanted to tell you you're picking Brendon up tomorrow morning before you get me."
"Oh, so he doesn't want to set me on fire anymore?"
"Nah, we talked. But he still says you're not funny."
"Well, duh."
Ryan and Spencer shared a laugh. "So, how... how was your night?"
"Boring as hell. What did you guys do?"
"It was a long night."
"That good or bad?"
"You know how good things can come from bad things sometimes?"
"Yeah."
"Like that, I guess."
"You're probably not going to tell me much more, are you?"
"Do you mind if I don't?"
"Nah, man... Ryan, I trust you. You're good, you know?"
"God, you are far too good to me."
"We love you do death, Kid."
"There's one thing."
"Yeah?"
"He knows."
"Oh, he... he knows? Like, what me—"
"He said it, Spencer. I mean, I guess I said it too, but he just... you told me to make sure he heard it..."
"Yeah I did."
"Just wanted you to know, that's all I guess."
"So he knows now?"
"Yeah."
"And you know, as well?"
"I do."
"I'm happy for you, Ryan."
"I don't want anything to change." Ryan couldn't hide the fear in his voice and he curled up on his bed, Spencer's familiar voice resting on his ear.
"Dude, nothing's different. It's the same as it was Monday. And Monday was the same as Sunday, there's just one more of us now, alright? It's good, Ryan. There's nothing to worry about here."
Ryan could hear the typing cease in the background and he knew Spencer was giving him his full attention, something that only sent him further down. Ryan didn't know why he was crying but he knew it was easy to do at that moment. "I'm so afraid of everything... fuck, I don't even know, I don't want this to ruin everything we all have and make everything..."
"Ryan. Nothing is ruining anything, I promise. Don't you think I would have told you by now if you were doing the wrong thing?"
"I don't know."
"Yes you do. You know I would never let you ruin yourself."
"I know."
"Ryan, you're not like this anymore, remember? You're doing too well to let yourself get like this. Seriously, things are too good for you right now, there's nothing that should be making you this bad, you know?"
"I don't know what it is. I know things are good... I've never been this happy and I don't know why I'm like this. I'm so fucking worried about that kid."
"I can come get you if you want."
"No, no, I'm fine... I don't think anything would change if I stayed at your place. I guess I just need to be a wreck tonight and get it out of my system." Ryan laughed as best as he could and he partially meant it, finding some kind of strange irony in everything he was feeling right then.
"I'm going to trust you with that, Ryan. If anything happens to you, I swear—"
"Dude, Spence, I'm alright. I just need to think about things. Once I can actually get to sleep, I'm good."
"If you change your mind at three in the morning and decide you want me to come get you, you know who to call, got it?"
"Yeah."
"I'll get Bren for ya before I come get you."
Ryan grinned. "Call him first before you get there. Got his number?"
"I sure do."
"Night."
"See ya Ryan."
Ryan was completely aware of what Spencer was undoubtedly typing to Ellen but he was just thankful that he didn't have to say it again. He gripped his phone in his hand and rolled onto his back with his forearm pressed against his eyes, but nothing seemed to help. Everything was made worse by the simple fact that Ryan had no real explanation for this sudden collapse. He soon found himself pacing back and forth across his room, wondering how he fell so fast after holding on for so long, trying his best at mastering Brendon's perfected art of silent screaming and hidden destruction but he was not finding himself to be very successful. He had never had to hide anything before, and perhaps this thought made him feel even worse, not for himself, but for the one person he cared about more than anything. Ryan felt helpless with nowhere to go as tears stung his eyes and he cried in a way that he had not done for several months. The only difference was that this time, Ryan knew exactly what could fix everything, even if there was no way to have it right then and there.
Ryan wasn't sure if he was thinking straight as he opened his bedroom door and boldly walked into his father's room, although quietly, and sat down on the edge of the bed. He couldn't hear the man snoring but there was no reaction to the addition of Ryan's weight on the bed and Ryan leaned forward, his elbows digging into his thighs while his hands held his face and the weight of his head. The weight of his thoughts was so much more and Ryan simply started to crumble, just like every wall he had built to protect himself and give himself the strength that Brendon kept pointing out to him. He didn't want to see this in a negative light, but regardless of what Spencer said, everything was changing. Ryan had fallen too far in love with the way things had been and he decided that it was fear of the unknown that was tearing him apart. His very audible, constant sobs resulted in a large hand being pressed gently against his back. Ryan felt movement behind him as his father slowly rubbed his back, speechless, yet still saying so much. The late hour and the alcohol had no opinion in this and Ryan knew that for the first night in so many years, he was all that mattered to this man.
No words were exchanged before Ryan left the room. He spent close to an hour with his father's hand moving across his back, just thinking, just letting himself go. He needed it more than anything—or almost anything—and the affection from his father helped to prove that there was so much truth to what Spencer had been saying. There was nothing for Ryan to be afraid of.