Devil's Fate

STAY

Jason picked up his glass of water and set it back down without drinking it, before he absently did it again. He sighed and pushed it away, and turned back toward the coffee maker. He'd already had two cups, and his nerves were frayed, but he was going to make another. Maybe the smell will wake him up. Maybe. Every time I've been in there Ry's been sleeping so hard. I want him to wake up. I need him to wake up. I know I did the right thing, taking him away from there, but I'm not sure he'll think so. He probably doesn't even want to see me.

Thoughts from the day and night before, of finding Ryan and bringing him home, were unpleasant. Jason shook them away. That part was over. Ryan was clean and safe, and nestled into his bed. The rest was over. I hope. I hope he'll stay, at least long enough to talk. I don't know anything about his life right now. I don't know if he really doesn't have anyone or anything to go back to anymore. Whatever he said to Talinda, it couldn't have been so bad she'd throw him out. Ry's never been mean.

Jason leaned against the counter as the coffee maker started to work, worrying. Bringing Ryan home had upset his entire routine. When it was obvious Ryan wasn't going to be up to talk before work, Jason called in to take the day off. He was such an expert at faking headaches that it didn't occur to him that he didn't have one until almost an hour after the call. He'd gone to peek into the bedroom again, only to find Blue snuggled up next to his ex-boyfriend and unwilling to move. Jason stood at the foot of the bed and drank in the sight of Ryan between his slate gray sheets, the dark blanket pulled close under his chin. It pinched at his heart to see how thin Ryan was, his always sexy scruff looking like it needed a trim. So did his hair, and Jason looked at the way it fanned over the pillowcase before he closed the door again.

All he'd done since was pace and wait. The coffee maker finished, and Jason poured a cup to take over to the windows while he waited and worried some more. It was a typical Seattle day, overcast and rainy, and cold. Jason could feel the chill the closer he got to the windows. Come on, Ry. I want to talk some more. Wake up, please.

Upstairs, the light pitter-patter against the windows was slowly bringing Ryan out of his foggy sleep. His body ached, and he wasn't sure if he could move his legs. Everything felt heavy. The sound of the rain, the feel of the clean silk sheets, the warm ball pressed against him - it was all unfamiliar as Ryan tried to place where he was as his eyes eased open.

There was no brilliant sunlight shining through the windows, no ugly green shades or the nasal sound of Samantha O. telling him to get up. There was also no Talinda, or the girly music she was a fan of and often played through the apartment - sad songs by scorned women who wailed and cried as they told their stories.

Everything he'd been used to over the last handful of months was absent, as Ryan's memory slowly started to wake up. Jay. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to remember, but only fragments were coming through. Flashes of Jason's dark eyes as he looked at him at Rob's apartment. Jason in a crowded place - the airport? Jason in an elevator, and then telling Ryan to lay down and rest.

It was all jumbled in his head, a recourse from the lines of coke he'd done and the dope sickness he'd suffered through after, and Ryan wasn't sure if it was a dream or a memory as he opened his eyes slowly. The dark sheets on the bed, the rain against the window, and the unfamiliar blue-gray color on the walls were the first things he saw. It was hard to look at, his head pounding. The smell around him was clean, but that was all he could tell, a small notation in his subconscious mind.

He waited a few seconds, listening to the rain before he went to sit up. The moment he moved, the warm, round heat source by his stomach meowed. Ryan looked down, his eyes opening as wide as they could go. "Hey," he whispered to the Siamese kitten that was leaning back and looking at him. "Where did you come from, huh?" Ryan's voice was hoarse, but he took a moment to put his hand out and let the cat sniff at his skin. "You have blue eyes, like me," he mumbled, before a frown cusped his lips. Jay doesn't have a cat.