Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Ninety-Four

-Rye's POV-

It had always bewildered me, how time was just a concept. Just numbers and names that we assigned so that life made more sense and was easier to organize. No matter what, minutes and seconds always passed at their allotted intervals, even if it didn't feel like it. It was weird to think that it had been five weeks since the shooting. It felt like it had happened yesterday and also a lifetime ago, mainly because I was still living in it.

It had terrified me to see Brooklyn like that – all bruised and bloodied – even though I had tried to hide it. In some ways, it reminded me of the aftermath of the scene, and in others, it reminded me of my own shortcomings. Why had I wandered off alone instead of going with him? It frustrated me to know that I could've protected him, if only I'd been there.

So, it was back to the routine that I'd taken to right after the shooting – Quietly watching over the others to make sure that no harm came to them. I'd volunteered to take the couch, since I knew that one of the others could make a better use of my bed – And, sure enough, Jack was sprawled out across it, deep in sleep. Despite their problems, Liv and Mikey had bunked together again – He had his arms and legs wrapped around her, pulling her close. He'd insisted that she couldn't go back to the hotel, and that she had to stay with us to watch over her. Andy had conked out almost as soon as we'd gotten back, clearly exhausted from the day's events, both physically and emotionally.

It was only Brooklyn who appeared to be having some trouble sleeping, so I wasn't surprised when he slid out of bed bright and early – Or, it being England and all, gloomy and early. Time had worked its distortions onto the night, making it stretch out to seem much longer than it really was. Every small sound made me jump – I almost had a heart attack at the sound of Pepper eating. Brooklyn had sat up and gone to rub his eyes, only to flinch and remember what had happened.

He took each step slowly, partly because of his injuries and partly because of the dark. I watched as he accidentally walked into the sharp side of the table and sank to the ground, moaning "Owwwwww!"

I made my way over to him to offer him some silent help – I'd recognized the way that he behaved yesterday as the same sort of quiet embarrassment and pride that I'd gone through, but I knew better than any of us how much it paid off to accept a little help sometimes. He'd been kicked when he was down – mind the appropriate metaphor – with the harsh ultimatum that Blair had struck upon him once he'd gotten back.

After hearing the whole story from everyone, he'd shaken his head, incredulous.

"I can never leave you boys alone again, can I?" He'd asked. "Boys – no more girlfriends for now except for Liv. Liv, I hope you feel better soon, but it's probably best for everyone involved if you can move out of the flat soon." Mikey had made as if to protest at that, but even Liv looked like she was more than ready to take a break from us. As much as I loved her, he was kind of right – There was too much tension in the air with the love triangle going on, and I took Andy's pain as my own.

Blair had plowed on, continuing with, "Brooklyn, you're going to have to stay on the down low until your face looks presentable again. And I'm serious when I say that – No vlogs, no live.lys, no snapchat or Instagram or selfies, and definitely no going out to the park." Brooklyn's face had immediately sunk, as if Blair had basically just told him that the fun would be taken out of band life for him.

"And, for God's sake, boys, look out for each other. Never go somewhere alone. Don't do stupid shit. I'd kind of like to avoid the number of trips that we take to A&E from here."

Any process that Brooklyn had made from the fun day out had been stripped from him again – He looked miserable as I kneeled down beside him.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry," He said.

"I was already up," I replied, which was the truth. "Do you need help with anything?"

"I'm good," he lied, but I wasn't going to let him off that easily, not when it was just the two of us.

"Come on," I pushed. "It's just us here. You don't have to fake it. I won't judge you for needing a little help, I swear on my life." He contemplated the offer for a second before giving in.

"Everything hurts," he moaned as we moved to the bathroom, where we could turn the light on without waking anyone else up. He'd actually slept with a shirt on, so I couldn't see the full extent of the damage, but his face had gotten worse overnight – He was more black and blue than white.

I lost my breath for a second as he pulled his shirt off – "Holy shit, he really got you good." Wounds and bruises blossomed across his entire chest and back. "Are you sure nothing's broken?"

"I don't think so. I don't know. Everything hurts the same. It even hurts to breathe." I could see the pain etched across his face, and I felt my heart drop. I could take a million bullet wounds, but it would always hurt worse to see somebody that I loved in such a terrible state.

"I think we've probably got some Icy Hot here somewhere..." I rummaged around the cabinets, unsure if anything could truly relieve all of the pain he must be going through. I finally found the box and skimmed through the instructions quickly before moving to help him put it on. When I touched his skin, though, I quickly pulled back He had grimaced simply at my touch, and he was burning up.

"Let me feel your forehead?" I asked, remembering what my mum used to do when I was ill. "Brook, you're really, really hot." I stated.

"I know," He smirked, attempting to make a joke in light of the situation.

"Not like that, you turd. I mean, like, you probably have a fever. You should probably go back to bed, really, and we'll see what we can do when the others wake up."

"But I can't sleep because it hurts," he whimpered, looking sad and pathetic, and I wished that I could take the ache instead of him, but I couldn't.

"Be brave," I grinned, planting a soft kiss beside his eye, one of the few places of unscathed skin that he had left.

I wondered if this was how Mikey had felt when he had helped me. I wondered how Brooklyn had gotten himself beaten up so badly in the first place. I wondered if things would ever get better – For any of us.