Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Take It A Day At A Time

Chapter Two

by ipanicdaily 3 reviews

His eyes were full of fear, the surrounding skin puffy and red, tears still streaming down his cheeks and into his blood-filled hand.

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Published: 2009-07-16 - Updated: 2009-07-18 - 4896 words - Complete

*Chapter Two

Present Day*

It felt as though I drifted out of the hospital; the manila folder clutched so tightly to my chest, containing the papers I had to sign to give permission to the hospital to remove Brendon from life support. Just holding the folder brought tears to my eyes and made my flesh practically burn. I didn't want to let him go, but he was showing no improvement which could cause permanent damage as his brain slowly shuts down; not to mention Gabe's covering the bill which I'm sure is costing more than I can imagine. Hospitals are all about saving people; they just demand every penny you have to do so.

No one paid any attention to me as I left; not that I minded much. I liked feeling invisible sometimes. I was never invisible with Brendon though and that was nice too. But right now I want to be invisible. I don't want anyone to ask me about the folder or what I'm going to do. Dr. Carrigan expects me to sign them within the week. How can I though? Even if Brendon was the biggest pervert or a mass murderer, I wouldn't be able to do it. Who am I to decide if someone should live or not?

The glass doors slid open and let me into the chilly night air. I followed the curved sidewalk towards the road, making my way back to the loft. I hoped that no one was awake but that's doubtful since it's just barely eight; the end of the hospitals visiting hours and the beginning of the night life. I'd probably just end up in my room because I'm not in the mood to deal with anyone trying to cheer me up or anything. Losing someone you care about, someone you love, is like losing yourself.

Sometimes I wonder where I would be or what my life would be like if Brendon never came back after that first night five years ago. Call it God or fate or whatever, but if he didn't come knocking on my door again, we'd both be quite miserable right now. Then again, he wouldn't be in a coma right now either so, how much good has he gotten from being with me? I certainly got the world from him.


Five Years Ago

Everything pretty much went back to normal after Brendon left that day; not that I expected anything to change. He was that night's easy fuck, like so many before him. However, there haven't been any after. Part of that is because of what Frank said, part of it because I just didn't feel up to it. Instead, at night, I would get high with someone in the living room or, last night for example, I went with Pete to the WalMart he worked at and followed him around as he restocked shelves and such, just keeping him company. His boss, Brian, I think it is, didn't care as long as Pete got his work done. For the most part he did, we just had a bad habit of goofing off a bit when there weren't any night customers around.

But tonight, I was pretty much alone. Pete and Patrick had gone to some party or club, and Frank managed to somehow convince Gerard to leave the bedroom to go to the movie theater. Both offered invitations to me, mainly because they felt bad I was alone, but I told them to go have fun and that I would be fine. Plus, Gabe and Will were still here, not that I was going to bother them. Well, I didn't plan on it at least. An unexpected knock at the door changed that.

I had just barely gotten into a light buzz from a lovely bottle of vodka when there was a quiet but frantic knock at the door which I assumed was just another crack-seeking customer of Gabe's. I set my guitar on the newly gained coffee table, not that I had been playing it anyway, and got off the couch where I had been laying, blinking my eyes a bit while making my way to the door. When I opened it, I came face to face with the last sight I expected. "Brendon?" I asked, staring at him with shock.

"I d-didn't know w-where else t-t-to go," he practically sobbed, his body shaking and blood trailing from his nose as well as his lip, dropping from his face into his cupped hand. "I-I can l-leave..."

"What happened to you?!" I asked, slightly horrified from the sight. His eyes were full of fear, the surrounding skin puffy and red, tears still streaming down his cheeks and into his blood-filled hand.

"H-he's never...I-I had to s-save her..." I didn't understand at all what he was talking about but by watching the way Brendon shook, I could tell he was going to fall over any minute. I stepped back and took a hold of his non-blood-collecting hand, guiding him inside. "I-I'm sorry."

"Sit on the couch, I'll be right back," I said, pushing the door shut and releasing him. It amazes me how semi-normal I can function, even when half-drunk. Even fully drunk I'm pretty confident I would have done something similar; it just would have taken me a bit longer. But I have no idea what to do and Brendon clearly needs some kind of help so I made my way to Gabe's room because, even if he's the craziest person I know, he knows how to handle these situations.

I headed straight for the brown door at the end of the hall, Gabe's and Frank's rooms being the only ones beside the bathroom with actual doors since they tend to make substantial amounts of noise at night. Inside I could hear Gabe talking softly to Will so I knew, for once, they weren't fucking because during those times, even with a door, they can be heard down the hall. I knocked on the door then opened it, not bothering to wait for an answer, since Brendon was losing a decent amount of blood and the last thing I wanted was for him to pass out.

The room was lowly lit with red lamps, Gabe and Will curled up together in the corner in this strange chair he has that's almost like a completely closed in egg thing of some sort except for the open front. It's lined with purple cushions on the inside and extends pretty far back for you to be able to stick your legs out; which Gabe was doing. "Evening Ryan," Gabe smiled, arms wrapped around Will's shoulders as Will absently played with the strings hanging down the front of Gabe's hoodie. "What can I do you for?"

"I need help," I said a bit frantically, Gabe's smile dropping. He's heard that plenty of times I'm sure. "This boy, Brendon, I slept with him the other night, like I usually do with people, and I told him it was a one night thing and I haven't heard from him since then but he just showed up," I had to stop and gasp for oxygen.

"Ok..." Gabe seemed lost so, once my lungs stopped burning, I continued.

"He's in the living room bleeding and crying and I don't know what to do," I said, choking a little, my lungs still screaming at me. Gabe said something to Will in Spanish, Will nodding and getting up, Gabe quickly following and passing me to go to the living room. Will left after him, disappearing into the bathroom so I made my way back to the living room where Brendon sat, hoping Gabe could help.

Gabe sat on his knees in front of Brendon, talking to him as though he was a child, which oddly seemed to calm Brendon a bit. I stood off to the side, Will coming from the bathroom with a pan of water and a washcloth, going to Gabe who smiled and took them. "Put your hand in the water to clean that blood off," Gabe said, resting the bucket on Brendon's lap; Will sitting on the couch beside Brendon and rubbing his back a little. Brendon obeyed and lowered his blood soaked hand into the water, the blood trailing out in ribbons before turning the entire collection of water a soft red. Gabe took the washcloth and gently wiped it over Brendon's mouth and chin, cleaning him of the blood. "Ryan, can you get some ice?" Gabe asked and I nodded, glad to do something other than stand there and watch.

I went to the bathroom and yanked the cupboard open, grabbing the softest washcloth I could find, going to kitchen and pulling the freezer open; glad to actually see we had ice. I scooped a few of the cubes out with one hand, using my shoulder to shut the freezer, and set them in the center of the cloth, scrunching it together with a rubber band. My hand was becoming slightly numb as I brought it back to the couch where Brendon was still crying though not quite as hard. Gabe had instructed Brendon how to pinch his nose just right to get the bleeding to stop, something Gabe has a lot of experience in. He said something to Will, again in Spanish, and Will took the bucket of blood away so I took his spot beside Brendon.

"Does anything hurt?" Gabe asked, genuinely concerned about the younger boy before him.

"N-no," Brendon sputtered, still holding tightly to the bridge of his nose. Will appeared again, handing a water bottle and a smaller bottle containing pills to Gabe before excusing himself to the bedroom. Will seemed freaked out by Brendon's state but then again, he's never seemed to do good around sick or hurt people; no matter how minor or major it is.

"Let's see how your nose is doing," Gabe softly spoke, guiding Brendon's hand away and waiting a moment. When no more of the red substance slid out, Gabe smiled proudly and stood up. "Put the ice on your lip to keep it from swelling and take two pills before going to bed." He shook the little bottle of pills. "Ryan, come get me if you need to."

"Thanks Gabe," I smiled appreciatively, offering the ice to Brendon as Gabe set the two bottles down. His hands still shook pretty bad but at least he was beginning to calm down.

"Goodnight Brendon," Gabe said before heading off to be with Will again.

"S-sorry," Brendon apologized more, looking at his lap, coughing a bit from the crying.

"Don't apologize," I said a little harshly, making Brendon wince which I quickly regretted doing. "You needed help and Gabe helped you."

"I k-know you don't w-want me h-here," he said, rubbing the back of his free had along his eyes. "But I was s-scared and I know t-they're after m-me."

"Who's after you?" I asked with confusion, rubbing Brendon's shoulder some.

"C-cops," Brendon whispered and, if only I had a dime for every time I heard that one.

"Why are they after you? You have to be like, what, sixteen?" A small hint of a smile came over his face, his arm too heavy to hold the ice it seemed as he lowered it to his lap. I silently sighed and moved back to the arm rest on the couch, tugging on Brendon's shirt until he laid down with his head in my lap, taking the ice from him and holding it on his lip myself.

"I'm a f-foster kid," Brendon said, my heart dropping into my stomach. Foster kids never have it easy but the system around here especially blows. "A-and I'm s-seventeen," he said which made me feel a bit better about the other night since he wasn't too much younger than me. "And a h-half." Brendon added with slight amusement.

"Want to share what happened exactly?" I asked, trying to understand exactly how Brendon became to be so bloody.

"I'm s-scared Ryan..." Brendon ignored my question so I knew I wasn't going to get anywhere tonight. "I've r-run away before b-but they always get m-me and bring me b-back." I could still feel him shaking and Brendon shifted a bit, pulling himself into a somewhat fetal position, grabbing the bottom of my shirt and closing his eyes, his tears soaking into my boxers.

"You're safe here, Brendon." I tried to comfort him, using my other hand to push his hair back. "First of all, they don't know to come here, right?" He shook his head a bit, not that it really confirmed or denied my assumption. "No one here will hurt you." This wasn't exactly what I had in mind for doing for the night, especially since it was with a minor I've already slept with, but Brendon needed help and there was no way I could just kick him out again.

"They'll find me," he whispered, truly believing that he wasn't safe. I didn't want him to freak out any more because first of all, I highly doubt the cops know he's here. Second, if there's anyone who can detour cops, it's Gabe. "I don't w-want to go b-back, Ryan." Brendon was so scared of whatever happened that he held onto me as though he was going to fall off a cliff or something.

"Why don't you drink some water and I'll be right back," I said, Brendon slowly sitting up, blinking his red eyes to clear the watery curtains. I grabbed the water bottle from the table and uncapped it, handing it to Brendon whose hand's still shook a bit, opening the pills after then holding two in an open palm to him. I recognized them as sleeping pills, Gabe probably figuring that Brendon would need them, and I'm glad that he did because I'm sure Brendon wasn't going to sleep any other way. "Don't worry, they're safe," I said, Brendon hesitating a moment before taking them and pushing them between his lips into his mouth and using the water to get them down.

I got off the couch, Brendon watching me, and made my way to my bedroom to grab a blanket since I figure Brendon would fall asleep shortly on the couch. When I returned, he had resorted to hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in them, keeping himself as small as possible. I sat back down, sideways again, and folded my legs beneath me. "Come here, Brendon." I figured that I would do what Frank always did for me when we were stuck in the orphanage.

Brendon choked a bit but reluctantly let go of his legs and crawled to me, laying back down in a curled position with his head on my abdomen, taking my shirt into one hand again. I covered him with the blanket and stroked his hair, waiting for the pills to kick in to put him to sleep before I left to go to my bed to sleep. This was already killing my back with the arm rest pushing against my spine. "Ryan?" Brendon whispered as I leaned my head against the back of the couch, shutting my eyes.

"Hmmm?" I hummed, relieved that he was no longer crying and that his breathing was almost regular.

"Thank you," he whispered, making me smile.

"Go to sleep, Brendon." I replied, still smiling as I ran my fingers through his soft hair. He brought himself a little closer to me, pushing his head against my stomach and clutching my shirt a bit tighter. I didn't mind because the human contact reminded me of those nights I would get scared in the orphanage, now since closed, when Frank would just hold me until I fell asleep. It was that familiarity that made me ok with the situation, even though I still knew very little about Brendon.

It wasn't too long after that he finally fell asleep, his hand releasing my shirt and dropping down beside his face, his chest slowly pushing against my leg with each inhale, his warm breath ghosting over my body with each exhale. I wanted to move to go to my bed, but the way he was laying on me made it nearly impossible unless I wanted to wake him which, pills or not, I wasn't going to chance doing. Of course though I had to be awake when the door opened and Gerard walked through, followed by Frank. "I'm pretty sure when we left, you were all alone," Gerard said, half lost and half amused as he looked towards the couch.

"I thought Brendon was just a one night thing." Frank added with that stupid smirk I hate with a passion.

"He needed help," I said, Gerard already bored and going to their room, looking ready to pass out any moment. Frank remained though, that smirk bigger than ever, making me wish I could just rip it right off his face. "What?" I asked with a frustrated sigh, my hand still running through Brendon's hair.

"Nothing," Frank answered innocently, his eyes lingering a moment longer before he turned on his heel and disappeared after Gerard. I sighed and leaned my head back again, shutting my eyes to try and convince myself to go to sleep before anyone else tried to harass me about the situation. Even if he didn't say anything, I could tell Frank was very curious through that stupid smirk. Surprisingly enough, I fell asleep rather quickly.


It was in the early morning that I woke up, Brendon's bony elbow ramming right into my balls as he was experiencing what I figured was a nightmare or really bad memory. Either way, it hurt unbelievably bad. "Brendon," I whined, shaking him lightly, "Brendon, wake up." He made some soft whimpering noise so I pulled myself up a bit and shook him harder. "Its morning, Brendon; wake up."

"Please don't hurt me." Brendon practically cried, suddenly pulling away from me and curling up into himself. I watched him for a moment, trying to understand exactly what happened to make Brendon constantly afraid of everything around him, before pulling myself onto my knees and reaching out to his curled form. "I'll be good next time, I swear."

"Brendon, it's me, Ryan," I said softly, Brendon jerking back when my fingertips brushed his shoulder. "Hey, it's ok B." I tried a nickname, hoping it would help bring Brendon out from whatever state he was stuck in. "You're not at home, remember? You're safe." Brendon slowly lifted his head from his arms and looked at me with blurry eyes, the big orbs still circling with immense fear. "See? I'm the only one around, Brendon," I put my arms out and leaned back. "No one is going to hurt you."

"R-Ryan," He whispered, crawling back towards me and taking my open arms as an invitation. Brendon wrapped his arms around my waist, his body once again lightly shaking, and pushed his face into my chest as he cried, curling against my body now. "H-he's after m-me," Brendon said into my now-soaked shirt. I lowered my arms around his form, hugging him close to try and get him to relax because I hate seeing him so scared. He can't seem to comprehend that nothing is going to get him here. All I want to do is figure out exactly why he's so scared and who's after him so I can try and help him fix it.

"Brendon," I tried to keep my voice soft but firm at the same time, "I need to know who is after you exactly and why." He shook his head in defiance. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled out my nose, not really in the mood to deal with fighting with him for information. "Look, the only way I can let you stay here is if you tell me exactly why you're running. If you don't tell me, I'll have to bring you home so I don't get in trouble for kidnapping or anything."

"No!" Brendon yelled and I clamped my hand over his mouth.

"Shhh, Brendon," I hissed at him. "There are still people sleeping!"

"Please don't make me go back," he pleaded, his fingers digging into my back as he clung desperately to me. "Please..."

"Then I need you to just relax and tell me what's going on," I softened my tone before he yelled again because the only person who wouldn't murder me for waking them up this early is Patrick; maybe Will. But Gabe would no doubt kill me for disrupting Will. "The only way I can help is if I know what's going on."

"O-Ok," Brendon finally agreed, sitting back on his ankles and wiping his eyes, his arms wrapping around his frame to hug himself. "M-my foster d-dad..." Brendon paused, trying to convince himself to talk about it. "He h-hits me when I'm b-bad." Brendon's voice was very quiet and I had to lean forward to hear him speak, his head lowered and eyes squeezed tightly shut. "L-last night, he was y-yelling at me for g-going out with some f-friends when my m-mom stepped in and he..." His sobbing became a little harder again so I reached my arms out to Brendon, prying his fingers from his sides and tugged him gently towards my body, Brendon giving in and drawing close to me again. The only way I know how to comfort people is from physical contact and Brendon really needs comforting.

I sat back on my butt again, folding my legs, Brendon sitting in my lap with his legs stretching down the couch so he was in a half laying position, his arms folded in front of him and leaning against my body. I put my arms around his shoulders, holding him close to my body, and waited for him to continue his story. "He h-hit her...hard..." Brendon whispered. It was then that I could tell he really never had any real contact with another human beside the harshness of his foster dad and that's probably why he was clinging to me so much. But, I couldn't ever physically abuse anyone on purpose. "I tried t-to protect h-her and he h-hit me. S-she was on the f-floor and there w-was all this b-blood and I got so m-mad I p-p-punched him then w-when he was on the f-floor I started b-beating on h-him until he shoved me against the w-wall, hard, and called the c-cops. W-when I was able to s-stand, I was s-so scared I ran and he k-knows where all my f-friends live so I c-came here because you're t-the only one I k-know that h-he doesn't."

"Does your head or anything hurt from being shoved against a wall?" I asked Brendon, concerned that perhaps he lied to Gabe last night and could still have some injuries. Brendon shook his head and wiped his eyes again, pulling his legs up towards his chest, almost falling off the couch. "Brendon, if your foster dad does this to you, why haven't you ever told-"

"He threatened me!" Brendon's voice got a little angered and I should have known. Brendon has probably been asked about his home life multiple times only to be forced to lie so he doesn't endure any more pain. At the orphanage, we had a similar ordeal. We couldn't ever speak ill about our 'home' or we would go to sleep without food; sometimes for multiple days. I understood Brendon's pain, but at the same time, I was never horribly beat like he was either. "He w-wants to k-k-kill me, Ryan!" Brendon sobbed so, without really thinking about it, I kissed his head softly and rubbed his arm.

"He won't kill you because you're never going back there," I said with a definite decision to somehow get Brendon away from that man for good. "You can stay here, I guess, until you're eighteen because after that, he no longer has any legal say over what you do."

"I c-can't." Brendon tilted his head back to look at me, the water running from his read eyes down his face. I released him with one arm and wiped away the tears, staring into his eyes.

"I wasn't asking, Brendon," I said a little harshly. "I can't let you go back to someone who beats you for no reason. But because I don't know where else you can go, you'll have to stay here." Brendon's lips tugged up in the corners a bit to express his gratitude, his large brown eyes sparkling some not from the water they held but from relief and joy. "Now, I have to go to the bathroom and then we'll figure something out."

"Ok..." Brendon wiped his eyes one last time and pulled away from me, sitting on his ankles. I got up and headed for the bathroom, almost screaming when I realized Frank stood in the doorway of his room, arms crossed over his chest and that fucking smirk back on his face.

"Now what?" I asked, trying not to let Brendon hear.

"I'm proud of you," Frank said, stepping fully out of his room and closing the door behind him.

"Why?" I asked, telling my heart to calm down before it exploded.

"You're doing something really good for Brendon," Frank answered, leaning back against the wall now. "He likes you and trusts you so I'm glad that you're not just kicking him out again."

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes and pushed the bathroom door completely open, desperate to get away from Frank. I hate when he does that; the whole 'I know more about you than you think' act. Mainly because he does more than he lets on about me, if not everyone.

"Deny it all you want Ryan, but you like the kid somewhat too," Frank said before I could get the door all the way closed. I ignored him and leaned against the sink, shutting my eyes to gather exactly what just happened and what I just did. I just got myself a leech, that's what I did. I groaned and dropped my head, mentally cursing myself as Frank amusedly yelled, "Hey Patrick; you owe me twenty bucks!"


Present Day

My feet fell heavily against the steps as I climbed to the loft, my eyes glued to the ground I was walking on. From inside the door I could hear music and laughter, trying not to cry as I thought about who could be there and what everyone was doing. All I wanted was some peace and quiet; though I'll admit I'm stupid for thinking that I would ever get it while living with a bunch of druggies.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside, the thick smell of marijuana hitting my nostrils. I tried not to breathe much in, having cleaned up for Brendon just like he had asked me to years ago before he got involved with it too, and stepped out of my shoes. Everyone sat strewn across the furniture, passing around the small white toke, laughing at what appeared to be nothing. Even Will and Gabe had left their bedroom, though they haven't been staying in it much recently anyway. "Ryro!" Gabe chimed, laughing after, swaying on the coffee table in an attempt to keep his balance. "Where you been?"

Without saying a word, I walked past them, throwing the folder onto the table, and went to my room, pushing the beads aside hastily so they swung into each other once I passed. "What's that about?" Gabe asked, his voice seeming hurt as I headed straight for my bed.

"It's Brendon," Patrick's voice just barely reached my ears as I fell onto the mattress, grabbing the closest pillow and burying my face in it. "They want to take him off life support."

"Oh...shit..." Gabe answered quietly, the music disappearing a moment or two later. I heard footsteps draw closer to my room, the beads being jostled with as someone came into my room. I ignored them and curled up in the same position Brendon used to form his body into, desperate to just be with him again.

"Ry..." It was Pete that had come into my room. I missed Frank, even Gerard, and it hurt to think about how our family was slowly falling apart. It wasn't much of a structured family, but it was a family none the less. "Ryan, don't give up." Pete's voice was a little pleading and I felt the mattress bend down as he sat beside me, laying his hand on my shoulder. "Brendon's strong; he'll make it."

"Just leave me alone, right now," I cried into the pillow, not caring how stupid or pathetic I might look. Pete got up, but ignored me because I felt him get onto the other part of my mattress, the part Brendon would sleep on, laying down next to me. He didn't say another word to me though. Instead, Pete began to hum the lullaby Frank would play me on his guitar from the nights in the orphanage I couldn't sleep. I wanted to cry harder, my chest so constricted with pain, but I couldn't. I let go of the pillow and reached for Pete, pulling him close and listening to the tune, crying myself to sleep.
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