Something Worth Living For {Ryden AU}

6a

Something weird happens over the course of the next week; suddenly Ryan wants to hang out all the time. Not only am I surprised by his sudden outgoingness, but also, before, he seemed so sure that his parents wouldn't let him go anywhere, and now they just don't have a problem with it? It doesn't make any sense.

Then again, nothing makes any sense when it comes to Ryan.

There is one thing I've noticed, though. Ryan has been acting strange every time we hang out; nervous, jittery. It's like he can't relax, like something is eating away at him. Not to mention the flinching hasn't improved any.

I just don't think I've ever known such a strange person. One minute he's smart and witty, and the next minute I'm having to explain something as simple as YouTube to him. This whole thing about him being completely oblivious to things that every seventeen-year-old should know has surpassed 'odd' and is now becoming frighteningly worrisome. I don't worry about people.

But I'm worried about him.

Another sigh leaves me in a huff as I heave myself off my couch, trying to push these stupid thoughts out of my head. They just seem to be getting worse and worse, especially since Ryan has been around so much. He's on his way over right now.

This time, I'm confronting him.

And this time, he's going to give me an answer.

* * *

"Sit down."

"Um... okay," Ryan looks at me weirdly. My expression is unwavering.

"We need to talk," I inform him, inwardly cringing at that stupid cliché of a line. I sit next to him, worrying my lip and facing him directly.

"About?" he prods.

"Just - don't freak out, okay? I'm just going to ask you something," I say carefully. I remember what happened last time I brought this up. He looks worried now, like maybe he's catching on to what I'm about to ask. He doesn't say anything, his face remaining impassive.

"Ryan. What's going on with you?" I ask slowly, gauging his reaction sharply. I see panic in his eyes, and I know what he's going to say before the words even leave his mouth.

"I don't want to talk about this." Of course he doesn't. He never does, which only causes me to worry more. The more I think about it - however much I don't want to admit it - the more I notice that the way he acts, the extreme shyness, flinching when anyone touches him, being antisocial and without hardly any self-esteem, those are all clear signs of abuse. I ran over the signs over and over in my head and I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before. It makes sense.

"Look, I know something is wrong with you. You're way too shy, more than is normal, and you flinch every single time I touch you-"

"No I don't," he interrupts, looking surprised by what I just said.

"Ryan, yes you do," I argue. "Even if I'm just touching your shoulder, you flinch away from me." He looks like he's thinking back on it, trying to remember if what I'm saying is true. "You're antisocial," I continue. "And the most important, you don't know about some of the most common things, things that everyone learns at some point in their lives. Everyone knows what an iPod is, Ryan," I say quietly, trying to convey with my voice exactly how serious I am about this. He isn't looking at me now, but at his lap instead. I know he knows I'm right. I can see it in his face. But the problem is that he won't tell me.

"I should go," he says, and his voice sounds far away, unfocused and tinged with something like nostalgia, but not in a good sense, maybe in a... resentful sense? He stands up abruptly, rushing toward the door. I can't let him leave now, not when I've got him thinking about it. I beat him to the door, blocking the way.