Murder has never been so innocent. RYDON one-shot. EDITED. Read, review, rate and feel my love! :P
“How d’you do it, Ry? Every fucking day, like clockwork, and you never falter. How?”
“How what now?” His candyfloss voice giggles back, the older of us ruffling a hand through my ebony hair as though rubbing away the question that I’ve been dying to ask for an excruciatingly long time. “What’re you rabbiting on about now, Brenny?” He pauses to look around, a childlike glint taking on his glazed gaze as he thinks his words over. “Brenny!” The sudden cry makes my sad curvature of lips falter yet refuse to fall; this false pretence of happiness is the very least I owe him. “Brenny, it’s like bunny! Bunny rabbit! You can be my Brenny Rabbit!” Eyes shining with pride at his logic, he nods at me eagerly to show that he’s clearly thought of something that’s miles better than any sort of religion. “Right? You be my Brenny Rabbit, won’t you? Please? Why won’t you be my Brenny Rabbit? Was I bad? What did I do? Do you hate me? Why do you hate me, Brendon? Why do you fucking hate me? I didn’t do any-fucking-thing!”
All illusions of naïve innocence are shattered by the way his voice deepens, darkens almost, and turns from soft rambling to slightly scary shouts of madness. The hazy shine to his chocolate-honey eyes snaps into icy daggers, before shattering into the oblivion of the one thing that hurts me more than having to see him like this; he bursts into tears.
And that rattles me like a derailed rollercoaster. Ryan Ross never cries. Never.
That’s what I was asking him about, actually; the fact that he never looks sad even though we all know that he must be and that that in turn must be a large contributing factor to the madness.
The criminally insane madness.
The madness that is the only thing keeping him off of Death Row.
Because, nine months ago today, Ryan Ross made headline news. For murdering three of his classmates who had finally pushed him too far. Turned the gun on himself too, when he realized that it wasn’t some sort of sick fantasy about honest justice. Would have blown himself clean away if it wasn’t for me lunging at him, knocking the shotgun to the left and managing to make the wound only superficial.
My boyfriend, at age eighteen, is in an institution for the criminally insane. Sweet, innocent, kind Ryro is mixed in with evil, twisted murderers.
Apart from they’re the same sort of people now, aren’t they?
My Ryan will never be like them.
He’s sick, the doctor said so himself, and he didn’t mean to kill those kids; the guilt-driven decision to end it told me that much. My baby’s not a killer. He’s just a little lost. And it’s my job to help find him. That’s why they let me visit every day, it’s some kind of therapy thing meant to assist them with untangling his pretty little head.
A pretty little head that’s burying itself into my shoulder, lips mumbling incoherently about bunny rabbits and breaking my heart with it’s hopeless sobbing.
“I’ll be your Brenny Rabbit, Ry.” I whisper down to him, his sobbing stopping instantly and two eyes looking up like a little kid beholding the shopping-mall Santa for the first time. “I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”
The adulated look explodes as he pushes away from me with such a force that his clinically stiff plastic chair jet-propels a feet or so away from it’s original placing. A bitter look infects his pupils like a deadly disease and his smile drops to a weighted line of lead.
Well fucking done, Bren. Way to mess that one up.
The word is spat at me, so cold that it makes me shiver.
“Nonononononono. No. Just, fucking, no!” He yells, seemingly at the linoleum floor.
I reach a hand out to rest on his shoulder but he quickly swats it away, knocking my heart off-kilter at the same time with his lack of want for my touch. The very same touch that’s always managed to make it better before now.
“You’re just like them. Just like the foxes.” He sweeps the room with his narrowed eyes, searching for something that only my baby can see. “Foxes eat rabbits, Bren. The foxes wanna eat me.”
Once more he’s nestled into me, this time quaking with the kind of fear that I’d do anything to remove from his emaciated little body. Gently, giving him no reason to be afraid, I wrap my arms around his shuddering back and just embrace him, letting him know that I’m here so he therefore must be safe.
As twisted as it may sound, I like holding him like this. I relish every chance I get to comfort him nowadays because every day since the shootings has been like a lottery; some days he’ll almost be the old Ryan, others he won’t do anything other than stare at the ceiling. Most recently he’s taken to becoming more and more hostile, even more so towards the poor attendants at this hellhole than he is to me. They say that he gets picked on in here, that he’s losing all grip on telling who’ll hurt him and who won’t; that I’m the only person he shows any sort of trust towards anymore.
Hell, the poor kid won’t even let his own mom hug him when she visits. Not that she does, not anymore. She gave up on him months back.
I’m all my Ryan has left.
His nails dig into my back and his head buries itself like a dagger into my chest, tears still burning garish trails down his crescent-moonlike face.
“But you’re not a rabbit, Baby. Ain’t no foxes gonna get you. I promise.”
I hate this, this having to be the oldest all the time and having to see him suffer, but I’d hate not being here even more; I love him, despite all that he’s done, and knowing that I’m at least trying is better than me living on in ignorance.
“Nothing’s going to hurt you, Ryan. I won’t let it.”
“B-but the foxes! You gotta believe me, Brenny Rabbit!” He begs, eyes swamped with terror. “Oh no. Stupid, stupid Ryan! They’re gonna get you too. You’re a rabbit. I made you a rabbit, Brenny, and now they’re gonna get you. Stupid fucking Ryan! Bad boy.” The petrified look on his fragmented face makes me hold him all the tighter and press a calming kiss to his sweaty forehead whilst I try to hold back my own tears. “I know what we’ve gotta do, Brenny Rabbit.”
“What’s that, Baby? What have we got to do?” I keep my voice low, trying to keep my suddenly somewhat sedate boyfriend from teetering over the edge of reason all over again. “Tell me and I’ll make sure it happens. I’d do anything to make you happy, Ry.”
“The foxes.” He whines, blinking back tears in brave determination. “Foxes get shot. We’ve gotta shoot the foxes. To protect the rabbits.”
He looks up at me, insane eyes meeting mine and making me wish I was the one with no grip on reality. At least then I wouldn’t understand that I’ve lost the person I love way more than life itself.
“Us rabbits have gotta shoot the foxes. Shoot to kill. Kill them all dead.”
And then I get it; he’s talking about them. The kids he killed, they’re the foxes.
And then my heart breaks all over again.
Because I don’t want this rabbit of a boy, I want my big brave lion back.
I want my baby, my Ryro.
But the foxes killed him.
A/N: I’m really not too sure whether I like this or not, so I offer my sincerest apologies if this sucks like a whore on payday/makes no sense whatsoever. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :)