Team Brendon: A Burnt Child Dreads Fire (cont'd)

part 3

The fan blew from the foot of the bed where Ryan had sat it on top of some books to lift it up. Brendon was laying on his back with his arms under his pillow and Ryan sat perpendicular to him; his knees raised and laying over Brendon's thighs, and his hand casually slid back and forth underneath Brendon's shirt.

Warm air blew against their skin and it felt many times better than it had without air movement. Brendon's stomach was soft against Ryan's fingers and Ryan stared lovingly at his face. Brendon just stared blankly at the ceiling while he listened to the music.

"Whatcha thinkin'?"

Brendon shrugged and tilted his chin down to look more directly at Ryan. "Nothing, really. I'm just tired."

"Well hey if you uh, want me to... you can just not go to work and I can stay here."

"Don't say that because you know I want it."

Ryan laughed, not knowing how serious his boyfriend was being. "I can keep saying it."

Alyssa had come to the door after Grace left for work. She didn't bother to look behind the curtain, but she wanted to tell "Brenny" to be ready to go at "the usual time" and that she'd take Ryan home. "Brenny" was a name that was going to resurface every time Ryan felt like pissing Brendon off in the slightest bit, because he couldn't stomach the thought of calling him that seriously.

"Can I still call you when I'm done?"

"Of course. When?"

"Probably, uh... I don't know, four or five or something."

"That's fucking crazy."

"Yeah it's also one or two hundred dollars; I'll take it."

"But how can helping in a fucking kitchen get you so much money? This dude must be loaded and I need to work for him."

Brendon shot up without the use of his arms and he dug his fingers into Ryan's shoulder. "No. Ryan, no, you have to promise."

"Wha... I was just—"

Brendon's hands moved to Ryan's cheeks and even though they were dry, he brushed his thumbs under Ryan's eyes as he held his face. "You don't want to, Baby. Please believe me."

Ryan gave a bewildered nod, and accepted Brendon's head against his chest when the boy's body seemed to deflate.

"Never say that again."

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"I love you."

"That shouldn't be something that's wrong."

"No, it's just about all that's right."

"What do you do at work, Brendon?"

"A bunch of boring shit until I'm ready to fall asleep or die or whatever."

"But what do you do?"

Brendon sat up and kissed the back of Ryan's hand. "Not lay in bed and laugh with you all night, that's for damn sure."

Despite the junk piled in the back seat of his sister's car, Brendon managed to squeeze in next to Ryan; it wasn't like either of them minded needing to sit on the same seat. In order to conserve space, Brendon lifted his arm after he climbed in and Ryan sat underneath it, allowing the boy to pull their bodies together. Regardless of how small Brendon was or how sad he had been, Ryan felt safe. He laid his hand on Brendon's leg and smiled at his boyfriend for minutes on end.

Alyssa didn't seem bothered. She kept shooting smiles to the boys via the rear view mirror while she took directions from Ryan and randomly interjected with questions. By the time they pulled into Ryan's driveway, she had a basic knowledge of Ryan's life story.

Ryan leaned in to whisper against Brendon's ear. "My phone will be with me all night, okay?"

Brendon nodded and rubbed Ryan's shoulder.

"I don't care when you call as long as you do it. I love you."

"Love you too."

Ryan laid his head down and the side of his face was against Brendon's shoulder while he whispered under the sound of the grumbling car. "I don't want you to go, Baby."

"Me either. Ry, I need to..." Brendon pulled away and put a quick kiss on Ryan's cheek. "I know I'll need to call you so don't worry about that; you'll hear from me."

Ryan swallowed hard and nodded. Alyssa got his attention for a high five before he was completely out of the car. Something about her made Ryan love her; probably her girly giggles as they showed their affection in the back seat.

Brendon moved up once Ryan was out of the car. He buckled his seatbelt and finally looked up at the young woman who was silently laughing at him.

"Well excuse you, Liss."

"So that's the 'R' you have a crush on, huh?"

"I guess."

"You guess? Brendon please tell me you're just being modest, there."

Brendon shrugged innocently.

"Well next time you kiss a guy in my car, make sure it's one who you're sure you at least have a crush on, 'kay?"

Brendon pretended to ignore her fun jabs. "Hey, I uh... I don't want to work tomorrow. I mean I worked Wednesday, and I know Greg will be pissed but I want a day off just his once."

"For what? It's a lot of money, B."

"For Ryan--I mean, I want to have him stay the night. Liss you have to get this for me... I haven't a weekend to myself in so long."

"Hey, relax... I'll wait until we're leaving and I'll tell him I won't be able to bring you tomorrow. I'll just tell him that Mom needs you for something or whatever and I wouldn't be able to get you out of the house all night."

"What will he do to me if I don't come in, then?"

Alyssa laughed. "What do you mean? He's not gonna do anything; you went in on Wednesday when you normally wouldn't have and I think you deserve a break, too."

Brendon laid his head back and breathed deeply. He wished his arm was still wrapped around Ryan, and he was going to keep clinging to the thought of it happening the next day.

"You know, I always wondered why you were so indifferent about working around a bunch of dancers. The girls love you but you just stand there and look cute." Alyssa reached over and rubbed her brother's neck. "For what it's worth, I think Ryan's adorable."

*****

"I just, can't..." Brendon pushed Greg back slightly, but he gripped the man's shoulders to show him he wasn't pushing him away, much like he desperately wanted to. "No new bruises tonight, though... I... my mom could see tomorrow, and we can't..."

Greg sucked Brendon's full lips into his mouth to stop the boy from speaking, and he pulled away while Brendon tried to keep himself from getting sick. "Well that just about ruins our fun, doesn't it, Little Guy?"

Brendon nodded and concentrated on how the air felt rushing in and out of his nose. It felt simple, and Brendon needed that.

"I guess we gotta stay careful, and if you say so, I can't ignore that..." Greg dug his fingers into Brendon's arms again and exhaled deeply. "How we gonna make up for it, Boy?"

"I... I uh... whatever you want."

"Is that so?"

"Anything."

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

Greg lifted his hand and slammed Brendon's head into the wall. "You know what to fucking say to me, Boy. I'm sick of you playing stupid."

Brendon breathed and tried to hold himself together. He told himself his head didn't hurt; maybe the wind just blew hard against his skull, or maybe it didn't even happen. He had to think these things just to keep himself from giving up on everything. Ryan was waiting for him. Ryan was somewhere right then, just existing, and just waiting. It gave Brendon something to focus on. "We'll do anything you want."

"Yeah, we will. What do you think I want?"

"I... don't know..."

"I think you do."

"I'll do anything." Brendon leaned forward and gently laid against Greg's chest. The man usually loved submissiveness, and he wrapped his arms around Brendon's small body while Brendon's mouth started to dry up. Ryan couldn't get hugs because Greg stole everything good that Brendon had in him.

"You can do so much for me, Boy. What should it be?"

"Anything."

"I think you need to say that some more."

"I'll... do anything for you." Greg had to know that Brendon was just acting on what he knew to do. Regardless, the man could get off on it, and that's all that mattered to either of them.

"Well, then." Greg stood Brendon up and held him against the wall by shoving his hand hard into Brendon's chest. Brendon clenched his teeth together to keep from biting his tongue or lips if he were to be suddenly jarred in any way. "I don't think you're crying enough for me."

Greg flattened his hand and brought it down against the side of Brendon's head so hard that the boy fell to the floor. He collapsed into a pile of tears because that's what Greg wanted, that's what he felt, and that's what made Ryan want to help him. The physical pain didn't always make Brendon cry anymore. He was more or less used to it. Greg's foot hit the top of his head several times and all Brendon could do was give the man what he wanted. He had no choice; like an infant screaming for its mother, Brendon was helpless and alone. It was the loneliness of laying there on the floor that made Brendon cry; not so much the wall that his head was being kicked against. That wall never did anything to hurt him.

After watching Brendon fall apart on the floor for several minutes, Greg zipped his pants and disposed of his handful of dirty tissues. He tossed some clean ones down to Brendon, along with a command. "Grow the fuck up, Boy. The girls'll go on break in five and I swear to God, you better look fucking flawless."

Brendon didn't know the consequences of not being flawless. He honestly couldn't think of anything. His skull had already been all but broken into pieces, and Brendon had no idea what the man could actually do to him as a punishment. Some nights, he just wanted to find out, since there was always the chance that he'd never hurt again once it was over.

*****

Ryan's alarm woke him up at four in the morning. He had only been sleeping for about three hours. Thoughts of Brendon kept him awake because he knew he couldn't make the boy feel valuable while he was asleep. He wanted to lay awake and anticipate Brendon's eventual post-work phone call.

His bed made him feel guilty. Just about everything he had made him feel guilty and it had torn at him all night since he had seen how Brendon lived, but it wasn't practical for him to simply move out and live on the back porch. Instead, he slept on the floor.

His sleeping bag hadn't been used in years and he was too tall to even fit inside, but he didn't mind; he just used it to make the floor a little softer. His blanket was still tangled up with his legs when he lowered his body back down after turning his alarm off, and usually, he'd fall asleep after silencing the clock, but that couldn't happen this time even if he wanted it to.

"Hey... hey, Baby, you awake?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm up. You home now?" Ryan's phone told him it was just after five thirty right before he answered the call.

"How awake are you?"

"I've been awake, Bren, what's up?"

"Nothing, just... seeing if you could pay attention."

"Of course I can. I wanted to be awake for you; you sound, uh..."

Brendon's voice was unnaturally deep. He was quiet and his voice sounded as if it was diving in and out of gashes in a shredded throat, and it made Ryan wonder if the question should be whether Brendon was alive or not; not about his own level of wakefulness. "Yeah, I know. I'm tired."

"That's not tired, Brendon."

"Well it is. Hey, tomorrow..."

"What's wrong with your voice?"

"You're staying with me tomorrow."

Ryan didn't respond. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly; he wasn't just annoyed by Brendon's refusal to answer. It scared him more than anything.

"I'm not going in tomorrow night. I want you to stay here."

"I'd love that, you know."

"I mean, we can stay at your place. I'd understand if you'd rather do that."

"No, no... yours is fine. But why?"

"Why what?"

Ryan really just wanted to ask why his boyfriend sounded so awful. "Why are you staying home and having me over or whatever?"

"Well, a lot of reasons I guess."

"Like?"

"I just want you... wanna be with you, really."

"Well, okay... and?"

"I don't know. I just think I need you here sometimes, okay? It'll make everything feel a lot better for a while."

Ryan was caught up in a smile even though something about the conversation just broke his heart. "Baby, was it a bad night?"

"I guess."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"No. I mean... nothing, really. It just sucked like always."

Ryan licked his lips but he couldn't think of anything, even though he figured it might be good that he wasn't able to think of possibilities. "You know, maybe if... you'd tell me, you know, what's going on with you... like, what's wrong and everything... maybe I could make things feel better forever instead of just a while."

A rough, quiet chuckle fell on Ryan's ear from the phone, and he could hear Brendon inhale a small, shaky breath. "If you were some sort of superhero like that, I'd let you do anything."

"Just give me a chance, Brendon."

"Yeah well what's your special power?"

"I just love you."

Brendon was quiet because in his mind, loving him definitely did fall under the category of superhuman abilities, and he couldn't deny that Ryan had shown him more kindness than he knew even existed.

"I just love you, Brendon."

Brendon nodded uselessly. "Am I yours?"

"Of course you are."

"Okay."

"Why?"

"I just... I don't know, I wanted to make sure."

"Well you can be sure of that, Bren... I know I'm lucky to have you."

"Hey Ryan?"

"Mmm?"

"What would you do if someone stole your things?"

"Uh, what... what things?"

"And just broke them and destroyed them all and threw them away in the end? Then you'd have nothing, so what would you do?"

"Brendon?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me who hurt you."

Brendon exhaled and quietly hit the heel of his hand against his forehead. "I'm excited to have you here."

"Yeah." Ryan sighed. He didn't know it was so easy to be defeated so many times by someone who literally did nothing. He just wanted answers. "Yeah, it'll be nice. Just... hang in there, Bren."

Brendon exhaled for several seconds to relax himself. "Goodnight."

"Night."



*****

"Spencer, uh, hey..."

"Ryan, what the fuck. It's not even six. What the hell."

"Don't do this."

"Don't wake me up then, and why are you crying?"

"You have a fucking cell for a reason."

"Yeah, and it's not for you to call at six on a Saturday. What's wrong with you? You sound awful."

"I don't want to wake up my dad; I'm trying to be quiet and you're trying to be a dick and it's not fucking helping."

"No, I'm trying to figure out why you're crying."

"You were right."

"About what?"

"Brendon."

"What about Brendon?"

"He's a fucking actor."

"Ryan, listen..."

"He's not happy and he's fucked up and I don't know why—"

"Ryan."

"He just says he's fine or he won't tell me what the fuck is wrong with him and I don't know what's real or if he actually likes me or... fuck, what am I supposed to do? I can't fucking fix this."

"Breathe, for one. And listen, Ryan, that kid loves you. He's so in love with you it's disgusting, honestly. He loves you and you know that."

"I don't know anything."

"Well, you don't know when to go to bed. Seriously, Ry, just get some rest; you're going to have a goddamn stroke."

"I don't care."

"Brendon would care."

"But would he really?"

"Ryan."

"Fine. I won't talk to you."

Ryan slammed his phone down on the carpet and pulled his limbs tight against his body. He was scared and he was too alone for his liking.

*****

"Well he's all yours if you can pry him off the couch." George pointed Spencer in the direction of the living room on the lower level of the house. "Kid's been there since he emerged from his cave around two."

"Has he said anything?"

"Nope. Asked if we could watch television, so I threw on some... some sport because it seemed like I'm supposed to do that, as a dad."

Spencer laughed. "You don't even know what it was."

George shrugged. "Ryan was about as interested as I was. I was reading."

"So you guys didn't talk at all?"

"Well, seeing as you're here unannounced, there's probably something I should have talked to him about, I take it?"

"Eh. Sorry about showing up; I'm not sure what's going on with him."

"Ah you're fine. Hold on." George raced down the five stairs and pulled the blanket off of his rather unamused son. "Spencer's here so it's time for you to quit pouting all over the place."

Ryan grunted. He sounded tired but he looked wide awake as he curled into a ball around a pillow that matched the sofa.

"What's up, Bud?" He lifted his son into a sitting position with one arm and he managed to catch the pillow as Ryan tried to throw it.

"Just leave me alone, seriously."

"Woah, hey. What did I do to ya, Kid?"

"Dad, just. Please." Ryan stood up to stomp away and he glared at Spencer as the boy tried to hold his laughter. "Both of you, seriously. I'm not in the mood for this."

George decided it was best to save any further jokes until a slightly less serious moment rolled around.

Ryan led Spencer up to his room but he barely acknowledged him. Spencer shut the door and turned around to see Ryan disappearing underneath layers of blankets on his bed, and he wasn't quite sure what to do.

"So I uh... I was pretty shitty to you when you called this morning."

Silence from Ryan confirmed the statement.

"So I wanted to apologize for being a bitch. It was early but I still shouldn't have acted like that when you needed to talk or whatever." Spencer thought Ryan's next movement was a shrug. "But yeah, I doubt you're this pissed off just because your dick of a friend acted like an ass this morning?"

Ryan was silent as Spencer made it over to the other side of the bed where Ryan was curled up. He squatted down at first, but he didn't know how long it would take, so he crossed his legs and slid them under the bed. His arms were folded and laying on the mattress to hold himself up with his face almost parallel to Ryan's.

Ryan shoved the blanket over his face as if he wanted to ignore his friend, but he didn't move. He stayed there, close to the edge, with Spencer being the only thing between him and the floor.

"Hey, are you still pissed at me? Because you can be because I deserve it, but I'm still sorry."

From somewhere beneath the blankets Ryan shook his head, clenched his teeth together, and wished for answers. He wanted Spencer to go away. Leave his house, and not talk to him for a long, long time. But more than that, he just wanted Spencer to lay down with him.

"Well, then this is about Brendon."

More silence.

"You know he loves you."

"No I don't." It sounded like Ryan's throat ripped open once his words escaped and his whole body shook. He knew it really couldn't get much worse at that point.

"Dude, no, seriously... he loves you..."

"You were the first one to say he was a goddamn actor!" Ryan threw the blanket away from his head and it was very clear that he had been crying for more than just a second or two. "He pretends to be all fucking happy when I know he's not and how do I know he's just not lying about everything then?"

Spencer scratched his forehead. "Look, I don't... hey, maybe I should let you talk to my uncle or something. Or his... husband, type... okay my other uncle... let you talk to them, because I don't know how this shit works but I'm trying, okay?"

Ryan's body was too tense and aching too much for him to do much else other than nod and let more sobs fall from his mouth.

"They're guys and they're... together, or married, or whatever, and they're good people. I just can't think of what else to do for you because I'm useless right now. All I can do is sit here and watch you die pretty much and I hate that, Ry. I've never even had a fucking girlfriend and there's no way I can help you with this, and I--"

Spencer's speech was cut off by Ryan's hand creeping out from under the blankets and coming to rest on his arm.

"What's up, Ryan? What do you want me to do?"

Ryan searched for Spencer's hand, and the boy gave it to him. "You're not fucking useless; you're my goddamn friend and I don't care if you can't do anything."

"I want to, though. I've never seen you cry like this and it's making me sick."

Ryan wiped his wet, messy face on his pillow. "Well you've never seen me try to love anyone."

"No," Spencer laid his head on Ryan's forearm but he kept holding his hand. "No I haven't."

"Why is this so hard?"

"I have no idea. But it makes me want to be a priest, because I wouldn't be able to handle anything like this. I don't know how you can."

"I can because I have a friend who hasn't told my gay ass to fuck off."

"Hey, I made it clear that I'd never pull that shit. I don't care about that." He squeezed Ryan's hand to prove his point a little more. "You're still that weird dude that kicks my ass in Mario Kart; you've always been like that, and you've always been this way. I don't care about that, but what I do care about is that there's this skinny kid laying in front of me, crying himself to death, and I want to make it stop."

Ryan didn't respond right away. He clenched his friend's hand and waited until he was only crying instead of sobbing with enough force that his head felt like it could explode. Spencer sat still, occasionally wiping sweat and hair off of Ryan's forehead, and wishing nobody knew that romantic love existed until age thirty. He figured everyone would be better able to handle it by that point.

"Can you stay here for a while?"

"Yeah... yeah, but... can I play Nintendo?"

Ryan nodded and Spencer stood up, leaning over to hug the mass of blanket and boy that still laid curled up on the edge of the bed. He set up the game console and put it on the foot of the bed before sitting down, but Ryan still hadn't moved.

Simultaneously, Spencer slid up to lay next to Ryan while Ryan turned around to face him. They didn't speak or acknowledge anything, and Spencer hoped he was helping. Ryan laid against him with his forehead on his shoulder and he remained curled up and wrapped in blankets with that sad, pouty look on his face while he watched Spencer play. A renegade smile tried to break through a few times, though, whenever Spencer insulted the video game and jostled Ryan's body whenever his character fell off any cliffs.

*****

"Just think of it from my perspective for a second, alright? It's after eleven at night and you want me to drop you off in a dark parking lot to meet up with the guy you just started dating. Ryan, give me one way that this will not end in disaster."

"Dad. I'll be fine. I have my phone, and I'll be fine."

"Hey, did you know that once the cell phone was invented, all homicide stopped worldwide?"

"Dad."

"Ryan."

"Ugh Dad you can't do this. Look, I don't even know why he wants to meet me here, okay?"

"Because that helps your cause even more."

"No, look. I have my phone. I'll be fine."

"His parents are fine with just throwing him out of the car here?"

"It's his mom and his sister, and his sister is dropping him off on her way to work."

"Where in the world does she work?"

"Some bar; she's in her twenties, I don't know." Ryan's leg bounced up and down while he watched every car that approached and passed.

"And what do you plan on doing when you're done doing whatever it is that kids like to do in parking lots?"

Ryan shrugged and glared out the window because he knew he didn't have a chance. "Dunno. He said we'd walk to his place."

"Yeah, about that. Not happening. Look, I'll wait for him to get here, but we need to figure out another game plan because this is ridiculous, Ryan."

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're grounded if you keep acting like this."

Ryan had fallen past the point of adult discussion and landed in a pile of whining and dropped chins of disbelief. "Why won't you just let me do this?"

"Because I'd prefer to have you alive in the morning. Ryan, this is stupid."

"Don't you fucking call me stupid!"

George started fuming while his son escaped from the car and slammed the door. Ryan didn't run off because he knew that cars tended to be bigger, faster, and deadlier than fifteen-year-old boys. He slunk down the side of the car with his back against the passenger door and he knew that it would be the perfect time for Brendon to show up and drag him away from the argument, but since nothing was perfect, he knew he was in trouble. He was slowly hitting the back of his head against the car door by the time his dad got out and made it over to him.

"Alright, what's going on with you."

His dad's question wasn't even a question—it was a statement, which told Ryan that it needed to be addressed because the issue wouldn't be dropped.

"I just wanna be alone."

"Well then why are you waiting here for Brendon?"

"Just stop."

"Ryan, we never fight, and you're never this much of a brat."

"Will you quit calling me shit, good fucking God!"

"Hey, I didn't call you stupid, and I called you a brat because that's what you're being. And I swear, if you keep talking like that I'll smack you into yesterday, so just watch it and talk to me." George wouldn't have bitten the bullet if Ryan didn't seem so distressed. The proper course of action, in his mind, was to forbid his son from having any sort of life until age twenty-three, but he figured he should at least see what was happening in Ryan's head before getting too angry.

"I just need to do this, Dad."

"Do what? Sit here alone all night, with another kid, and then walk that road clear back to that trailer park? Ryan, you'll—"

"Don't call it that. Don't you fucking talk about it like that, because I swear—"

"You swear what? That's where he lives. I meant nothing by it. If you were walking to a goddamn baseball diamond, I would have said so. You're not doing this."

Ryan leaned forward and gave up on everything. "You don't know how he feels about that. He'd thought I'd hate him for it but now I don't even know what he feels about me and fuck, Dad, sometimes I just want you to leave me alone so I can just die and get it over with, okay?"

George sighed and slowly slung his arm around his son's thin shoulders. He couldn't be mad at someone so pathetic and scared. "Ryan, what's going on with you?"

"I don't know."

"Are you guys still together, whatever you were calling it, or..."

"Yeah... I guess, we should be... I just don't know what he thinks."

"You know... I know you don't remember much, but I've had problems with this stuff, too. Except when your mom left, I had a three year old to take care of. You still have someone to take care of you if anything happens with you two, okay?"

Ryan nodded and chuckled lightly. His dad never thought he remembered anything.

"Not sure if you noticed but they pulled in over there about half a minute ago. I'll tell ya what..." George pulled himself to his feet and Alyssa's car grew closer. They had been waiting and giving Ryan and his dad some distance. "Against my better judgment and any parenting skills that I may have, I'll leave you here. But if I call you, you answer your phone. None of that waiting until it's convenient for you shit, because seriously, I don't want to do this anyway."

Ryan was standing and he nodded sheepishly toward the ground. He wasn't quite sure if he should be embarrassed, and his dad sensed it.

"But the deal breaker is this." George playfully Grabbed Ryan's shoulder and moved him back and forth a little until he smiled. "You call me within an hour, and I'm coming out here to take you guys over there."

"Dad."

"You're not walking. I don't think you know just how long that would take you, anyway." George opened the car door and sat down inside, raising his voice and leaving no room for debate. "I'll keep your stuff in here. One hour, Ryan."

Ryan scowled at the car as his dad pulled away. His pride was a little too sore and he was too shy to look at Brendon while both cars left the parking lot. He stood with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched over slightly while his boyfriend walked over to him.

"What were you guys talking about?"

Ryan shrugged and didn't look up. "He was being fucking ridiculous."

"Ah. Well, he's gone now." Brendon latched his arm around Ryan's since Ryan's hands were glued to his pockets. "Let's go sit."

They were in front of a mostly abandoned strip mall. Ryan couldn't really blame his dad for not wanting to leave him there, but he still thought it was stupid to worry. Brendon led him to the end of the strip where lampposts lit the surrounding area, but not the pavement where they sat down. They were hidden on one side by the building and on the other side by overgrown shrubs and trees and possibly a whole bunch of garbage. Ryan couldn't quite tell in the dark.

Pieces of gravel instantly stuck to the skin on his legs when he sat down on the old asphalt. He tried to brush it off but his hands were already dirty and he just gave up, leaning back against the wall and letting his head smack against the brick. "This has been the day from hell, seriously."

"How so?" Brendon was messing with his bag and pulling out his little CD player. "And where's your stuff; aren't you staying with me?"

"Oh well that's where it goes further into hell. It's in my dad's car because he doesn't want me to fucking walk to your place because he thinks I'll get lost or killed or something retarded and it fucking sucks that he can't trust me to walk, you know?"

Brendon licked his lips and stopped what he was doing after he set up a set of tiny speakers and turned on their beloved Dashboard. "Well, I was uh... gonna ask you if you... thought your dad would take us back, since um. It's really dark, all that way?" Brendon looked at Ryan and laughed nervously. "I got to thinking that it uh, might kind of suck and I don't think walking back at night is the best idea I've ever had." He adjusted the volume so the music could be heard quietly. "I'm not too full of good ideas."

Ryan bit the inside of his cheek and he found himself unsure of who to be mad at, but he was obligated to be mad at something. The world was the easiest choice. He subtly let his head hit the wall again and he narrowed his eyes when Brendon produced a bottle of wine. "Yeah, about that lack of good ideas..."

"Mmm?" Brendon was oblivious.

"What are you doing with that?"

Brendon shrugged. "It's supposed to be romantic, or some shit. I don't know."

Ryan exhaled loudly through his nose and thoughts of everything else quickly returned and replaced thoughts of the alcohol.

"So what's up?"

"Well according to my dad, I'm stupid? Whatever." Ryan moved and picked up what looked like a piece of paper and slowly started to tear it into small pieces. It had been paper at one point, but it was unrecognizable after what were probably months of being rained on and then dried by the sun.

"Ah. I see." Brendon leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him while Ryan was hunched over the paper and his crossed legs. "Well he's wrong about that, but yeah. I can see why you're pissed."

"It's not even just that; he doesn't care what I think. He just... fuck, I don't know."

"Hey, just stop thinking about it for a while, okay? I bet some people wish your problems were all they had to live with. He left you here so it's all okay."

"Then I'm just mad because... well, you won't tell me what's going on with you, and I know something's wrong..."

"Nah, it's nothing. I just hate my life half the time." Brendon grinned and poked Ryan on the back of his upper arm. "Looks like you seem to feel the same way sometimes."

Ryan used the poke as an excuse to lay back and lean sideways against Brendon. Pieces of gravel scraped the ground beneath him as he shifted and his right arm and side came to rest on the left side of Brendon.

"Well that's better."

"I love you."

Brendon tilted his head down to kiss Ryan's hair. "Love you too. What's up?"

"Just what I've bitched about. But are you better?"

"What do you mean?"

"After this morning and everything. Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I did. I feel better now."

"Why didn't you feel good before?"

"It was a bad night, I told you."

"Why is work so bad?"

Brendon smiled as Ryan nuzzled in closer to him. "It's just not fun. But it's work. And you're awfully clingy tonight."

"I guess."

"Talk to me?"

"I'm talking."

"Hey, if you wanna bitch about your dad some more, go ahead. Even if it's trivial shit, it doesn't matter, you can be upset over it."

Ryan exhaled and wiped his face. "I don't know, it's stupid. I was just mad to begin with and he assumed we broke up and he started talking about my mom and how he left her and what the fuck is that supposed to do for me, anyway?"

Brendon didn't know how to respond, so he just slid his arm up Ryan's back so he could hold the boy's head against his chest. Ryan wanted to wrap his arms around him, but he knew better, and he draped an arm across Brendon's legs instead.

"Then he says he knows I don't remember much, and I'm like fuck you, that's bullshit."

"You know, I think my mom hopes I forgot everything. She knows it's impossible but she just wishes it wasn't."

"How messy was theirs, if I can ask?"

"Oh, it's fine. It was pretty bad I guess. I don't even know what happened exactly because they were married before Liss was born, and they seemed fine until I was like ten. Then shit just started happening and they fought all the time and really, I have no idea."

Ryan nodded casually moved his head just enough to press his lips against Brendon's chest.

"By the time everything was finalized I guess I was just glad for it all to be over."

"So where... where did you guys live?"

"Over in Eastridge? Uh, we had this really, really shitty apartment and I don't know how none of our shit ever got stolen. It was tiny and makes where I am now look better than your house. We moved and my dad stayed there."

"You really don't know what happened between them?"

"Not really. I guess I don't like thinking about it? I don't know. I think it was just all the money issues, and then everything else just followed, I guess."

Brendon was petting Ryan's hair and the realization made Ryan grin. Brendon was too sweet to him. "Have you ever just felt normal?"

"Everything's been normal for me since it's always been like this. Ryan, we've never had money. I tried to keep that from you because I was scared, okay?"

"Don't worry about that, I don't have money, either."

"But your dad does and he can take care of you."

"I can take care of you if you'd let me."

"I'd let you if I thought it would work."

"When can I hug you?"

Brendon hugged Ryan's head with one arm. "Tell me about your parents."

"My parent, you mean. My dad. You know about him."

"And your mom?"

"Don't have one."

"Sure you do."

"I hate her."

"Why?"

"She hates me."

"How?"

"Um, by not loving me in the slightest?"

Ryan's voice held enough confidence to make Brendon's chest ache, but Ryan's head still rested on it and it kept Brendon from getting too sad. "I don't know how anyone could just not love you. I mean, you... you're all I have and I like that, Ryan."

"You have two women who love you quite a bit."

"Yes, and I have one boy who I love more than anything."

Ryan moved his hand up to Brendon's chest and he kept it in front of his own face. "My dad really thinks I don't remember anything."

"You said it happened when you were three?"

"Yeah."

"I'd think you'd remember it."

"I do." Ryan sat up and stopped caring about a lot of things for the time being, and he reached for the bottle. It had been opened, but it was still full. "I guess you want to know what I remember?"

"Yeah, if you wanna tell me."

Ryan took a drink of the wine and instantly realized that he probably shouldn't gulp it down like water. He cringed and rubbed his tongue over the roof of his mouth. "This is nasty, fuck..."

Brendon chuckled. "I don't know if it's supposed to taste good; I've never had it before."

"Me either. Kinda burns, but whatever."

Brendon helped himself to a drink and wiped his lips while Ryan continued.

"I was three; not retarded. I just remember they fought a lot and I didn't like the yelling so I'd hide in their closet. And then they'd go to their bedroom and keep going because they didn't know I was in there."

"You were that young and they just left you on your own?"

Ryan shrugged. "I guess I don't remember what they fought about. That much, he's right about. But him and my mom would just, like... she'd be nice to me, and then he would be, and they never did it together. I don't know. Neither of them were bad to me or anything and I loved her back then." He smiled and took another reluctant drink while Brendon extended his arm to push some hair behind his ear. It was humid and his skin was starting to get sticky. He turned his head to kiss Brendon's hand while the boy brought it back down. "And just... she was gone one day. She just left and my dad wasn't happy for a long time, and I never saw her."

"So he just got custody?"

"She gave me to him. Basically, several years ago I made my dad tell me some things but he didn't say much, and I guess she offered to sign over all parental rights before my dad could even ask. He was ready to fight for me but she wasn't even going to try."

"She... just..."

"Didn't want me at all, no. She told my dad that if he didn't want me, I could go into foster care. But hey, at least she took their dog."

The bottle was half empty and Brendon gently took it from Ryan's hand, disguising his intentions with a small sip of his own. "I... don't know what to say; that fucking kills me."

Ryan shrugged. "I live with it and my dad thinks I'm too stupid to feel anything over it. But he called me stupid, so I guess that makes sense?"

"Do you ever see her?" Brendon put the cork back in the bottle and discreetly sat it aside.

"I have a few times. I have so many years worth of mother's day presents somewhere at home. You know, cutesy shit kids have to make in school? My dad kept them all because she never let me give them to her." Ryan noticed that Brendon looked helpless and he was staring at something—rather, nothing—off to the side. "So yeah, that's that. I don't have a mom because if she's my only option, I'm not taking it."

"I don't blame you."

"Do uh... do you like any other music? Like... at all, I mean?"

Brendon grinned. "You know, I'm not sure? Probably not."

"I'm fine with this. I know you like this song."

Brendon nodded. "It says a lot that I can't say."

"Is that why you're always listening to it?"

"Yeah I guess."

"You know, it reminds me of you. It was what you were listening to you when I first talked to you."

Brendon smiled. "I was so surprised when you just did that... people aren't really mean to me or anything, but I just kinda blend in and don't get much attention, so I didn't expect it. I had no idea why you were stealing my headphones."

"Well there was no way I would have been able to ignore you. I've never had a crush that huge in my life; it's pretty ridiculous."

Brendon giggled and held Ryan's chin with one hand. "Well," He pressed his lips against Ryan's and touched their foreheads together quickly afterward. "Me neither."

"I just don't like how this song reminds me of you because it's so fucking sad, you know?"

"Yeah, it's just my song though."

"Hey, if... I can't hug you, could you hug me if I promise not to move or anything?"

Brendon licked his lips and said nothing.

"I just really want to hug you and I know I can't, so just... I need it, and I promise I won't do it back no matter how much I hate it, okay?"

"I'm just afraid I'll hurt you."

"Baby, how can putting your arms around me actually hurt me?"

Brendon shook his head. "You'd be surprised."

"Why, Baby?"

"Just... cross your arms."

Ryan did as he was told and he couldn't help but notice that Brendon looked like he was being forced to kill a puppy. "I just really want this."

"Ryan, you need to tell me to stop if you want me too."

"I won't, though."

"Ryan no, if you want me to stop, I swear I will; I won't just keep going and you need to know that, please..."

"Okay, okay... it's okay..."

Brendon swallowed hard and whispered as he leaned forward. "I don't want to hurt you." His arms came to rest on Ryan's back and he gently pulled their bodies together. It felt so right, but it hurt so much. "Don't let me hurt you."

"Baby... Baby, you..." Ryan snuck his hand out to grab the fabric of Brendon's shirt, but he didn't pull it. "I want this."

"Don't let me hurt you."

A quiet, gentle sob leaked from Ryan's mouth as his heart broke for a reason he couldn't identify. "Never let go of me."

"Only if that's what you want."

"It's what I need, Brendon. Why is this so hard for you?"

"Because this hurts people."

"It doesn't. It doesn't hurt me and it won't hurt you."

"It hurts me all the time." Brendon pressed his face into Ryan's neck. "I don't want it to hurt you."

"Bren?"

"Should I let go?"

"No, just... Baby, listen to me, okay?"

"Uh huh."

"If I ever, ever do anything that hurts you, or scares you, or just makes you feel like it shouldn't happen, I want you to tell me because I will stop. I swear I will, Baby."

Brendon nodded and his fingers dug into Ryan's back and neck.

"I don't know what's happened to you and I'll never know unless you tell me, but whatever it is, Baby... I'm not going to do it to you."

"Just don't hurt me, Ryan."

"No, no..." Ryan inhaled and everything smelled like sour grapes. He felt dizzy and he laid the back of his hand gently against Brendon's stomach. "Never."

*****

"Ryan, you need to sit up and get your seat belt on."

Ryan glared at his dad and for a moment, he didn't move. He waited for Brendon to gently nudge him sideways. Ryan himself had been quite content leaning against his boyfriend.

"So what did you guys do?"

"Nothing." Ryan defiantly pulled his seat belt away from his neck before he folded his arms. "We just sat there."

"Fun, fun." George laughed quietly and shook his head. He had spent the previous couple years wondering when his son would start to hate him, and just as he suspected, Ryan decided to wait until he started dating.

Ryan shifted down in his seat and looked apologetically at Brendon, who was simply smiling at him and playing with his own fingers; he was content just being with Ryan instead of Greg. The car slowed down before making the final turn and both boys looked at George. Brendon was just confused, but Ryan was silently begging his dad not to say anything stupid.

"You can walk from here since that's what you wanted anyway. See, I won't try to eliminate every ounce of fun from your lives. Looks like there's uh, some corn, if you get hungry along the way."

"Thanks Dad. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Mmm." George waited until Brendon climbed out of the car. Ryan, of course, was busy sulking and taking his time. "So uh, Ryan?"

"What."

"Alright, before you go." George exhaled and turned around enough to look Ryan in the eye. "How honest you are with me is going to play a huge part in how much trouble your ass is in tomorrow."

"What?"

"What were you drinking and how much did you drink?"

Ryan's mouth fell open slightly. A quick thought raced through his mind, and if he said nothing, maybe his dad would forget what was going on.

"Ryan, I have a nose. I know you were both drinking and I don't want any excuses; I just want to see if you can handle a simple question."

Ryan closed his mouth and sat back in his seat. "It was just wine, I swear. I swear to God. We didn't even drink a lot. It tasted like ass and we only had like half of it, I swear—"

"That's enough. Look, I'm already not happy about tonight, okay? We're going to handle this tomorrow because if I laid anything down tonight, neither of us would be happy and you wouldn't see the light of day for a couple years."

Ryan didn't speak, but he knew he hadn't been excused from the car, and he definitely knew better than to excuse himself.

"Just have fun tonight because I can't say you'll be doing much for a while."

"Dad—"

"Don't wanna hear it. We'll talk tomorrow."

Ryan bolted from the car with his bag in his arms. He didn't look back and he stormed past Brendon, barely acknowledging him. "Come on."

"Woah, what's... going on?"

"My dad's a fucking dick and I'm not going home tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because he's a dick and I'm not going home tomorrow."

"What did he say?"

"Oh he just knows we're drunk or whatever and now I'm completely fucked because you now he's never drank before or anything and he's not a fucking hypocrite for this shit."

"Well just because we had that doesn't mean we're trashed. I know I'm fine, I just feel good; but fuck, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Ryan stopped walking, threw his bag over his shoulder, and suddenly noticed the expanse of nearly pitch-black fields surrounding them.

"Because I brought it and now you're in trouble and your dad probably hates me now."

Ryan could feel Brendon's mood hit the floor. "No, it's not your fault. I didn't have to drink it."

"I didn't have to bring it."

"That doesn't matter. None of it matters because I'm fucked now."

"So why won't you go home?"

"Because I kind of don't want to be locked in my room for the rest of my life."

"It's okay." Brendon put a shaky arm around Ryan's back. He was as worried as Ryan was, but he wasn't with Greg.

"No, no it's not." Ryan slowed down again and looked up at the sky, then down to the blackness around them.

"Hey." Brendon stepped in front of him and used both hands to clear Ryan's face of hair and sweat and anything else. "Fold your arms."

Ryan thought he knew what was coming and he crossed his arms against his chest and looked down, closing his eyes when Brendon gently pushed his head down so his face could lay on his shoulder. He took a slow breath but he had nothing to say, and he gathered a bit of Brendon's shirt between his fingers.

"It sucks but you'll live. I like hugging you."

Ryan could only nod. He figured that the world wanted him to talk, and all he wanted to do was turn his back on it.

"Just don't let me hurt you with it."

"How could you?"

"I don't know. Ryan, it's... really freaky out here and I kinda just want to get in."

"Yeah." Ryan stood up straight and put an innocent kiss next to Brendon's eye. "I couldn't have walked all that way in this dark."

Brendon chuckled. "Don't you hate it when your dad's right, though?"

"He wasn't right."

"Yeah." Brendon calmly gathered Ryan's hand and walked purposely close to him. They were both quite uncomfortable outside in the eerie silence. "Okay."

*****

Cracked walkway lights reflected off of Grace's pinwheels and made them shimmer, but they didn't spin. There was no wind and the lack of so many things made the night feel dead. Ryan had forgotten that it wasn't going to cool down when they got inside, but Brendon flipped the switch for the ceiling fan before even turning on a light. He never forgot how hot it was.

"So nobody'll be home tonight?"

"Liss shouldn't be here until four or so, maybe three but I doubt it, and my mom won't be here until morning."

Ryan nodded and put his bag on the couch and allowed it to be inspected by a cat. The fan created a warm breeze out of the sticky air and Ryan shook his hair around. "Then is it okay if I just take my shirt off?"

"Why do you feel the need to ask for permission to do that?"

Ryan blushed and started at his shirt. "I don't know, I was just asking. I'm not much to look at but it's hot in here."

"I told you we could stay at your house."

"No, I know you did, but I wanted to stay here."

"That's weird because I always wanna get as far away as possible." Brendon ducked down the hallway. "Ah shit; hold on I'll be right out. You can keep talking."

"Okay, uh... so... does this cat have a name?"

"Oliver's the one that's out there, and Oscar's back here on my mom's bed. I really hope you're not allergic or anything."

Ryan laughed and causally glanced around the clutter for anything resembling a television remote. "Nah, my aunt’s one of those weird cat ladies. Well, kind of. She has four of them. And three dogs."

"Sounds interesting."

Brendon's voice was closer and Ryan turned toward the hallway. He felt slightly embarrassed for picking around all the junk, but he wanted that elusive remote. "Is... that a nightgown?"

Brendon shook his head. "Night shirt."

"Dude, that's a nightgown."

"Fuck you." Brendon's words carried a slight sting and Ryan responded by looking down at an overflowing garbage can. "No, it's... sorry, it's a night shirt. I forgot that nobody's done laundry for a while and I'm pretty much out of stuff to wear."

The sleeves of the shirt hung down to Brendon's elbows and the bottom edge danced around his knees. The shirt was oversized to begin with; pale blue and covered on the front with stars and clearly meant for sleeping, but it was also several sizes too big for Brendon.

"It's my mom's..." Brendon tilted his head when Ryan touched his shoulder. It was almost completely exposed due to the size of the shirt and the fact that it was hanging lopsided on his small body. "I don't always wear her clothes but I don't have much of a choice right now."

"Nah, it's fine... I shouldn't have said that." Ryan smiled at the way Brendon's head hung down and sideways to make room for his fingers to move. "You look comfortable in there."

"It's just really fucking hot."

"I don't need to be the only naked one, you know. You don't have to wear clothes around me." Ryan saw a small grin creep across Brendon's lips. "At all."

"Stop it."

"I have plans for a nudist colony, actually. But we’re the only ones allowed there."

Brendon's embarrassed smile grew and he ducked away again, this time heading toward the kitchen. "You were looking for the remote a second ago, it looked like?"

"Oh, uh... kind of."

"It's probably in the couch somewhere. We don't have cable though so good luck with that."

"Oh." Ryan licked his lips and refrained from asking what there was to do. He watched Brendon fill a cup with ice from the freezer and toss a small piece into his mouth.

"Want some?"

"Uh, it's okay. Not now."

Brendon shrugged. "It's nice when it's hot in here, you know?"

"Yeah I'd imagine."

"You okay?"

"Not... no, I'm fine, yeah."

"So... that would mean..."

Ryan laughed. "That would mean I'm really fucking awkward right now."

"Aw," Brendon moved the cup to his left hand and extended his right. Hi, Really Fucking Awkward Right Now. I'm Brendon and you're cute."

Ryan laughed louder this time and Brendon casually put more ice in his mouth. "You're perfect, you know?"

"No, I wasn't aware."

Ryan helped himself to a chunk of ice but he slowly reached around to Brendon's neck, allowing him to see what he was about to do. Brendon cringed in anticipation but the look of fear faded with a relaxed shiver when the ice touched the skin of his neck.

"That's... oh wow, cold..."

"Yeah, you'll have that. You're so warm."

Brendon nodded.

"Just take this shirt off, Baby. Lay down and I'll just rub this on you."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"It's really bad. Just keep going on my neck, okay?"

"What's bad?"

"Nothing."

"Bren."

Brendon groaned and seemed to try to rip the shirt off as he removed it. "You know, one of these days you're really going to get sick of looking at me.

"Why would I do that?"

"It'll get old. Now what do you want me to do?"

Ryan tried not to stare at the boy's familiarly bruised stomach, but even through the damage, his skin looked soft and Ryan thought it was beautiful. "Well, nothing you don't want to do... I just thought it might feel good if I put this on your back or something."

"Whatever you want, I'm fine with that. It's just bad, okay?"

Ryan narrowed his eyes out of confusion while Brendon lowered himself to the ground, but his eyelids sprang open when he saw Brendon's back.

Brendon laid on his stomach with his face pointed away from Ryan and his arms down at his sides. His body lifted slightly when he took a deep breath and it slowly deflated as he let it out. "You can go ahead if you want."

If it had been possible for a truck to only run over one spot in the middle of a person's body, Ryan figured he would have an explanation for how Brendon's back looked. He was hardly bothered by the small, fingertip sized marks that dotted the boy's shoulder blades, but he was afraid to go anywhere near the purple and green mess that was Brendon's lower back. It looked like the work of a large hammer and Ryan wasn't quite sure how Brendon managed to walk properly.

"So... about that ice...?"

"Sorry... you're sure you don't mind?"

"I'm sure."

"Because I don't wanna do something you don't want."

"I promise."

Brendon's body twitched gently when the ice touched the top of his spine. Ryan's cold fingers slid it down slowly, leaving a trail of wetness leading to the waistband of Brendon's boxers, and Ryan lifted his hand for a second. "You think it might feel good on... this?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Should I?"

Brendon nodded almost lifelessly. "Careful, I trust you."

Ryan sat the rapidly melting chunk on top of purple skin and tried to distract himself. "You really do?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For giving me that. I mean, your trust... it's yours and I don't know, it just means a lot to me."

Brendon didn't respond but Ryan knew his words sunk in. Brendon flexed his fingers and Ryan lifted his whole arm to fill his palm with a kiss.

"You know, I talked to those kids the other day."

"Kids?"

"The ones outside? You said you played with them and they gave you all these marks by accident."

"I... oh. Yeah."

"They, uh... they said they didn't know you, Bren."

"That's weird."

"Yeah it is." Ryan used his shedded shirt to gently lift some water from Brendon's skin. "Why would they say they didn't know who you are?"

"I don't know."

"Yeah, okay." Ryan licked his lips and he desperately wanted to cry until he had answers. Brendon's body looked like a discarded punching bag. "Okay."

No matter how many times Ryan said it, nothing was okay. Brendon shivered under his touch and it was definitely not okay, and neither was the way that Ryan's chest flooded with an awful ache each time he remembered that he hardly knew the boy who he was in love with.

*****

part 5