Grand Finale || r.r. + b.u.

five

( t.w. >>> mentions and suggestions of suicide + self harm)

My eyes open to a bright white ceiling, I woke up.  But I don't feel right, like I'm dead, or dreaming.  I can't tell what it is, but something is very wrong.

I know that this is my room.  The dark wood floor, plain white walls, the pale blue and grey bedspread, everything is the same down to the collection of flower crowns on my desk I haven't worn for years.  I don't need those anymore for rather obvious reasons.

Sunlight stretches through the blinds, leaving lines of a pale shade of gold across my floor and walls. Everything is so quiet, and I wish it would just stay that way.

But I'm not dreaming.

-a flashback, in Brendon's POV-

When I wake up, Ryan is still asleep, so I try to force myself back to sleep as well.  I feel myself drifting off until there's movement next to me.  I didn't completely register that Ryan was getting up for some reason.  The next think I hear is a relatively loud noise, the sound of someone falling.  My eyes shoot open, but I don't move.  I stay still and quiet for a few minutes, everything seemed fine by the silence.

"Fuck," I hear.  It's Ryan, of course.  I sit myself up and see him sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed.  He was picking at the flowers on his arms and legs.  He looks so pale, there's blood everywhere, and I don't know what to do.  

I bet he wouldn't want me taking him to the hospital though, needing to explain the flowers and such.  I quickly rush over to him, taking his hand in mine and making an attempt at communicating with the boy.

"Ryan?" I call out to him for the fifth time, I want, no, I need him to say something. but he just sits there.  I watch his eyes roll back and panic fills my veins.  I lift him up, and rush him to the bathroom.  I know there's a first aid kit somewhere.

I'm lucky to buy enough time to clean him up, careful of the flowers still on his skin.  I wrap the bandages carefully around his arms and legs.  Hoping everything will be okay, that he will be okay.

I carry him back to bed, hearing his light breathing.  Assuring myself for the millionth time that he will be okay.

Ryan's POV

I sigh and bring my hands to my face to cover my eyes, surprised my arms work and aren't shaking violently.  I sit myself up, seeing bandages covering my arms and legs, flowers sticking out between the fabric, reminding me that they still exist and, unfortunately, this is the same life it was this morning.

The problem with remembering what I did is that I don't exactly regret it.  Part of me wished I hadn't woken up and it scares me that so suddenly I'm back at this point, wishing I was dead while I sit alone in my bedroom.

My mind wanders into dark corners as I think about what would happen if I did it.  I try desperately not to think about what happened the first time that I tried to end my life and then the second I got out of the hospital Spencer hugged me for probably an hour, we cried a bunch, and I spent the night at his house while we ate ice cream and watched Mean Girls for the millionth time.

But I wondered what would happen if I had succeeded.  I didn't want to hurt Brendon, but I knew I was going to die anyway, I didn't want to drag things out and hurt him even more.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of my door opening and a sigh of relief.  Rushed footsteps soon follow the sound and my hand in theirs snaps my head in the direction of Brendon.  

A strange concoction of worry, relief, happiness, and shock wash over his features all at once.  Regardless of what's going on in his head, he smiles at me, choking out a small "holy shit you're alright" and then quickly following it with an "I think".  He looks cute like that, but he always looks cute, but now is not the time for me to be all gushy about my cute boyfriend when just a second ago I was thinking about killing myself.

"Are you okay, Ry?" He says, quieter now.  He's scared, but I'm scared too.  I only nod in reply, not wanting to speak.  As okay as I may be, I'm still dead terrified.

He mumbles something along the lines of "I'll be right back" and walks out of the room.  Once again, I'm left alone with my thoughts.  Which then again, isn't something I necessarily mind.  I run my fingers through my hair and brought my legs up to my chest, feeling relief wash over me when I can feel my legs moving and working.

"Hey, you."  I hear Brendon say softly, sitting at the foot of my bed with a box of pizza.

"I-I bought some pizza because I had hoped you'd be awake soon, and then if you were doing good we could just stay here and eat pizza and watch movies or whatever you wanna do.  I thought that after everything that just happened you might want to keep it low key and stuff,"  He rambled, scratching the back of his neck, but I don't mind.  I like listening to him talk.  "sorry, I'm rambling aren't I?"  He then apologized.

"You're fine, you cute dork."  I reply, earning a small smile as he climbs into bed with me.  

I don't end up eating much, he gives me a worried look but thankfully doesn't pry.  We were marathoning Disney movies all day, occasionally talkinging about nothing.  I purposely tried to ignore the events of this morning, and I'm positive that Brendon could tell, or else I know he would've tried to talk about it.  

I feel Brendon fall asleep while he rests his head on my shoulder, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again.  It's not that I mind though, the idea of death is rather fascinating to me, so having it on my mind like this isn't the real issue here.

The issue here is, that I want to do it.  I believe I'm going to do it.  

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[A/N]

I have ideas for this story I just don't know how to write them out.  Don't expect frequent updates from me

-B