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

Chapter Four

by ipanicdaily 3 reviews

I couldn't make it any farther and fell to my knees in the grass, throwing up what in the light from the street lamp I could only make out to be blood.

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2009-07-21 - Updated: 2009-07-21 - 4204 words - Complete

*Chapter Four

Five Years Ago*

I stared in horror so Gerard moved into the closet space, sliding some hangers aside and knelt down beside Brendon's bloody form. He was propped against the corner of the closet, wrists bound tightly together, blood trailing down his face and body. "Brendon;" I whispered, near tears. I think the worst part of all was that he was naked.

"He's breathing," Gerard said, slowly reaching out towards the boy. His fingers brushed against Brendon's skin, the shiny red substance sticking to Gerard's skin. "He's really hurt though." Finally gaining control of my body again, I quickly went to the closet and dropped to my knees, the metal track of the closet doors slamming right into my knee caps.

"Brendon;" I reached out and touched his face, Brendon whimpering and jerking away which made both Gerard and I jump. "Brendon, it's ok; it's me, Ryan, and Gerard." I reached for him again, Gerard yanking a shirt down to wipe away some of the mess. I carefully took Brendon's chin into my hand, Brendon's eyes opening a tiny bit. "We're going to bring you home, ok? All I want you to do is stay awake."

"I t-tried..." Brendon mumbled. "He t-tied me...r-rape...t-tried to f-fight...had to k-keep q-quiet..." His eyes were slowly falling shut and I felt rage course through me. "T-tried Ryan..."

"Shh, I know," I said, stroking his face gently. Gerard had doused the shirt in Brendon's blood it seemed, revealing some cuts but mostly deep bruises scattered across Brendon's body. "Gerard, take him home."

"Shouldn't he go to a hospital?" Gerard asked, tilting his head.

"See what Gabe says." I stood up and shoved clothes around, looking for something to put over Brendon as Gerard worked on getting his wrists free. "Just get him home, please."

"What about you?" Gerard asked, guiding the rope around to undo it as gently as possible. I managed to find a large shirt which I yanked from the hanger and bent down to Brendon, both Gerard and I slowly getting it over him while Brendon continued to quietly muttered things.

"I'm going to finish the job," I said, pushing Brendon's blood-crusted hair aside. "Just bring Brendon home and I'll be back when I'm done." I stood up, my hand sliding into my pocket to touch the little plastic baggy. "Be careful with him." Gerard slid an arm beneath Brendon's knees and one behind his back to lift him from the ground.

"Damn he's light," Gerard said while standing. I took Brendon's arms and stuck them around Gerard's neck, guiding his head to Gerard's shoulder. "I'm pretty sure he's underweight too." It was then I noticed how frail Brendon really looked, laying limply in Gerard's arms.

"Just be careful," I said, going to the flashlight and picking it up from the ground.

"You too," Gerard said, adjusting the way he was holding Brendon a bit then walking through the door. "I'm sending someone here as soon as I get back." He told me, carrying Brendon towards the stairs.

"Make sure Brendon gets help first," I said, standing at the top and shining the light down the stair well so Gerard wouldn't trip, waiting for him to get out that door before I went hunting for his foster parents. Gerard made it to the bottom, Brendon softly crying out a bit; Gerard giving me a sad look because Brendon was calling for me. "Go;" I instructed, shining the light towards the door to motion him to get out. Gerard nodded and walked to the front entrance, managing to get a hold of the handle with one hand while holding Brendon close to unlock it, opening the door just enough to slide through and disappearing. Free at last, I thought, a small smile coming over my face.

With the door shut, I wandered down the hall towards the cracked door where I could hear deep, drunk snoring drifting out. Brendon was safe and away from here now, for good, so I just had to help free his foster mom which was why I had to finish the job. My stomach had already twisted into a tight knot to prevent the acid from trying to fly out my mouth. The smell of alcohol only got heavier and how Brendon escaped the lingering smell from his clothes and body was beyond me.

When I reached the door, I pushed it back and shone my light inside to evaluate the room. Across from the door was a large bed where the man that had pulled Brendon inside was flopped on his back, one arm hanging over the edge and legs wide open. He wore only boxers and the same dirty white tank top, the blanket partially draped over him. Beside the man was a much smaller form, curled up to look small with the blanket wrapped tightly around her. The way she laid away from her husband made it obvious that she was afraid to be near him.

I quietly slipped further into the room, walking on the balls of my feet across the semi-creaking floor towards the man, the smell of body odor now joining the heavy alcohol and all I wanted to do was throw up. How anyone could live like this, and not be dead, is incredible. We don't have a lot of money and hit the alcohol pretty heavily at times but no one in the loft stays with the disgusting odors all day. I had to stop and cover my mouth with my arm, trying to get used to the smell.

The man on the bed snorted and moved, making me realize I just needed to do it and get out. My heart started racing from remembering that this guy had raped and beaten Brendon, my rage returning once more, the overwhelming urge to destroy him myself coursing through me. Instead though I removed the little bag from my pocket and went closer towards the bed. I opened the bag of whatever Gabe gave me, standing close to the drunk, leaning over him and shaking the bag lightly so some of its contents fell into his mouth. He began choking and I jumped backwards, dropping the flashlight on the ground but managing to keep hold of the plastic baggy.

As he choked, I pulled open the drawer to the nightstand and dropped the baggy in, shoving it shut and going for my flashlight. The man sat up and I scrambled to get the flashlight, sliding from the room as quickly as I could. I heard him get up and the floor creak beneath his feet so I wouldn't be able to get out of the house quick enough. Barely avoiding him as he left the bedroom, I pushed the closet door open which happened to be the bathroom, jumping into the bathtub and turning the flashlight off. The man came into the bathroom a moment later so I pressed myself as close to the tile wall as I could, clamping one hand over my mouth to keep my staggered breath quiet, shutting my eyes tightly.

The light flickered on and the door shut, the man choking as he headed towards the sink. I could see his shadow through the almost opaque blue curtain when I opened my eyes, praying that he couldn't see me. I heard the faucet shoot water towards the sink, some splashing as he tried to soothe his choking. After he was done, my feet starting to slide on the bottom of the tub, the man had quite a filled bladder which he emptied into the toilet. The flashlight began to slip from my sweaty hand so I removed the hand over my mouth to hold it with both of my hands, just wanting the man to go back to bed so I could leave.

He finished and grunted, flushing the toilet then heavily clomped out of the bathroom, clicking off the light and going down the hall again. I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath, turning my flashlight on again and stepping carefully from the tub to leave, my heart pounding against my chest. I waited a moment, listening, before I walked out of the bathroom. As I walked to the stairs to leave, I stupidly didn't think about what direction the man headed off in when he left the bathroom.

Hands suddenly grabbed my throat, my body slamming against a wall, the flashlight falling from my hand and bouncing down the steps, the light flashing over my attacker momentarily to reveal an angered, tired face right before me. "Wha' ya do wid the boy?" He slurred, his heavily intoxicated breath flying right at me. I coughed against him, his fingers squeezing into my vocal chords. "Answer me!" He yelled, pulling my head forward to slam it backwards again.

"!" I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut from the pain, trying to pry his fingers from my throat.

"He's mine!" The man barked, his spit flying into my face. "Bring 'im back!" I coughed a bit more, knowing I was suffocating, and managed to twist my body enough to bring my knee right into his balls. The man instantly released me and screamed, retaliating a moment later by punching me right in the gut. I doubled over to hold my stomach, coughing a bit more violently now. "Fuckin' asshole!"

Before he could make another blow, I kept one arm wrapped around myself and grabbed the railing with the other, stumbling my way down the stairs, tears in my eyes because that guy really has some strength. I ignored the flashlight now and yanked the door open, the man still coming after me as I heard him come heavily down the stairs. I was half bent over in pain still, really feeling like I was going to throw up as I stepped to the path from the door to the street. "Ge' back 'ere!" He boomed.

I couldn't make it any farther and fell to my knees in the grass, throwing up what in the light from the street lamp I could only make out to be blood. I gagged a bit when the man grabbed a hold of my hair and yanked my head back, glaring at me in his drunken splendor. "Give me m' son 'ack!" He hissed at me. I heard a gun cock and I shut my eyes again, feeling spit or blood or whatever run down my chin, praying that I would die quickly. At least I got Brendon somewhere safer.

"Let him go." A gruff, slightly familiar, voice came to my ears. "You have five seconds to release him."

"'e broke in 'n took m' son!" The man twisted his fingers in my hair.

"One, two," the gruff voice began counting, "Three, four," I was still being held, "Five." The gun went off and I got my head back, rubbing the back where my hair was almost pulled out. "You ok, kid?" I turned to see my savior; a somewhat thick built man with blond hair, black sunglasses, and a lip ring. The drunk man was laying face down in the grass beside me. "He's not dead; I just knocked him out."

"My stomach hurts," I said, wiping my arm over my mouth. The blond man reached an arm down to help me struggle to my feet. "Thanks."

"Anything to help out Gabe," he said. "Name's Bob, by the way."

"Ryan," I hissed a bit because holy shit did my stomach hurt. Bob carefully slid his arm around me to help support me so I wouldn't fall over. If Brendon had to put up with this on a daily basis, I'm amazed he's even alive still.

"Do you want to go to the hospital or something?" Bob asked, his strong arms holding me up.

"No, I'm good," I said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "I have to go to Brendon."

"Andy went with the two who came out earlier. I was waiting for you." Bob and I slowly walked along the street, one of my arms around my waist and the other around Bob's neck as he supported me. We would occasionally stop when I would start coughing real bad, Bob patiently waiting for me to be able to walk again. I just wanted to lie down and go to sleep, my head spinning a bit.

"Ryan!" I looked up from the ground to see Frank jogging towards us as we reached the halfway point between the loft and Brendon's old home. Bob let go of me, watching me to make sure I didn't fall over, as Frank finally reached us. "What happened Ryan? Gee brought Brendon in and everyone helped take care of him but you still hadn't come back yet and I was so fucking worried."

"Things didn't go as planned," I said, Frank pulling me into a tight hug, my arm between us. I pulled away a moment later and lightly threw up a bit more blood to the side along with whatever else might have been in my stomach.

"Fuck, Ry," Frank said, rubbing my back. When I stopped, he took my arm from my stomach and lifted my shirt up, frowning and brushing his fingers lightly along my skin as I winced. "It's already really bruised and spitting out blood is really bad."

"I'll be fine," I said, wiping my mouth again. "He probably just hit something the wrong way." Frank lowered my shirt and I rested my throbbing head on his shoulder, noticing Bob was no longer around. For being a man of his build, he's very damn silent. "How's Brendon?"

"Let's worry about you right now," Frank said, rubbing my back gently more while I leaned on him.

"Well I'm worried about Brendon and how he's doing, not myself."

"We cleaned him of all the blood and he passed out in your bed," Frank said, laying his head on mine. "You're never doing anything like that again." He whispered, kissing my head. "You're like my little brother and if I lost you..."

"I'm fine, Frankie." I smiled and lifted my head from his shoulder."Really tired though."

"Well let's get you home then," he said, putting his arm around my waist. He walked with me just like Bob had, my head on his shoulder with both arms around my stomach now, feeling safe and comfortable with my 'big brother'.

# # # # # # # # # # #

"Ryan;" I groaned and moved a little, feeling stiff and overall shitty. "Come on, Ry, gotta get up now."

"No," I whined, keeping myself how I was.

"I have to go to work, Ryan." The voice, now recognized as Frank, said. "But I want to see how your stomach is first."

"Still hurts." I mumbled, prying my eyes open to see I was in the living room, lying on Frank on the couch. Slowly, I sat up and rubbed my eyes, laying down the other way and pulling my shirt up a bit, still half asleep.

"It's really dark still." Frank frowned. "Be careful with what you do today, ok?"

"It's not like I do much," I said, dropping my shirt. "Is Brendon up yet?"

"He hasn't woken since he fell asleep," Frank said, pulling me into a sitting position. "Will's been staying with him."

"Ok." I took a deep breath and waited for my stomach to settle. "Have fun at work." I stood and started towards my bedroom.

"Call if you need anything." Frank told me, going to the bathroom as I pushed the beads to my bedroom aside to see Brendon laying on my bed beneath a blanket, Will sitting cross-legged beside him reading a magazine of some sort.

"Hey Will," I said quietly, Will lifting his head and smiling.

"Are you ok?" He asked as I walked to the bed. "Frank said you got pretty beat up. He was freaking out about you."

"It was worth it," I said with a lopsided smile, lifting my shirt for him to see my stomach. Will frowned and moved back against the wall more, making room for me. "Brendon got a lot worse."

"Gabey's furious," Will said. I sat on the mattress, careful of how I moved my body because of my still very sore stomach, trying not to wake Brendon. "He's been talking to Ryland all night and he left really early to go with Ryland somewhere. Gabe was mad enough when Gee brought Brendon in but he found out about you, he lost it." Will set the magazine aside and looked to me with a proud smile, Brendon shifting a bit beside me.

"I'm worried about him," I said, looking at Brendon. He had a bruise or two on his cheeks, his lip cut and traces of blood still around his nose. And that was just what I could see of his face. "He was saying something about rape and abuse when he found him naked in the closet with tied wrists."

"Gerard told us." Will nodded. "He just says your name a lot." I smiled a bit because it felt really nice to hear that. "Gabe managed to get him to take some pain killers before he passed out."

"That's good," I said, pulling the blanket back a bit to take Brendon's hand, stroking his skin with my thumb. Brendon made some soft whining noise, his hand twitching a bit before his fingers bent a bit to somewhat hold my hand back. I smiled more.

"I've been putting a cold cloth on his head to try and cool his temperature but he would start saying he was cold so I took it off even though he's still really warm." Will brushed Brendon's hair aside. "Gabe said to watch him and if he gets worse we have to take him to a hospital." I nodded, staring at Brendon's pale, bruised face. I wish Bob did shoot the bastard last night.

"How is he?" I turned my head to see Pete standing in the doorway, holding the beads to the side.

"Sleeping," I said, Pete nodding and coming farther inside.

"Will, Gabe just called and wants you to meet him downstairs in a few minutes." Will instantly perked up, sliding off the bed and hugging my shoulders before bouncing out of the room. "How are you?"

"I've been better but I'll be fine," I said. Pete sat on the edge of the mattress beside me. "I'm drying for a smoke but I don't want to leave Brendon." Pete put his hand on my shoulder and rubbed it lightly so I let my head fall onto his. "When we found him, my heart nearly stopped can someone do that?" Tears once again found my eyes.

"Hey, it's ok Ryan." Pete put his arms around me. "He's safe, because of you. You helped him."

"I knew it was a bad idea to let him go there." A few light tears ran down my cheeks. "I told Gabe I didn't want Brendon to go back there but he didn't listen to me and Brendon could have died..."

"But he didn't," Pete said, rubbing my arm. "You found him and you saved him so calm down before you throw up more." I nodded and shut my eyes, clutching Brendon's hand tightly and leaning on Pete more. Brendon would be safe in our family and I knew it. We all look out for each other. Fuck with one of us and we all take you down. Blood or not, I couldn't have asked for a better family to be a part of.


Present Day

"Hey, Ry, you need to eat something." Patrick spoke softly to me as he came into the room with a plate bearing a sandwich or something. I continued to stare at the wall across from me. "Just a little something."

"Leave me alone," I said, arms curled around myself.

"Ryan, we're all really worried about you." Patrick placed his hand on my shoulder, sitting down beside me. "You've been in here for a few days, hardly speaking, not eating; no one says you need to be how you were before the...accident...but don't let yourself waste away like this."

"Just leave me alone, Patrick!" I yelled, turning over to face the other way.

"Leave, Patrick." I heard Gabe's voice Patrick sighing and getting off my mattress. It was silent for a few moments before I saw Gabe standing in front of me. "Come on Ryan. We're going for a little walk; just you and me."

"I don't want to," I said quietly, Gabe bending over and grabbing my wrists.

"I wasn't asking," He said, pulling me up. "You're doing yourself no good laying here in this room without talking or eating. Your mind will only kill you; and I don't care if you think you should die. I'm not losing anyone else." I frowned but was slightly afraid of Gabe so I pulled my wrists from his hands and got off my bed. "Will's at the hospital right now trying to see if anything else can be done."

"I'm not talking about it," I said firmly, my head hung low as I slipped some sandals on and left the room, Gabe following me. "I'll go for a walk but I'm not talking about Brendon or anything to do with him."

"We'll find something else to talk about then." Gabe calmly replied as he walked past me to the door, pulling it open. "The goal of this is to get you fresh air and way from here for a bit." I sighed, walking out of the door with Gabe following me. He closed the door, walking beside me down the stairs. "So; what other things have been on your mind lately?"

"I've been thinking of getting a job to move into my own place," I said, staring at my feet as I let them fall against the cement steps. "No offense."

"None taken." Gabe slid his sunglasses on, the sunlight having always bothered him when too bright. "You changed your life around so naturally things need to change to accommodate those changes. You just better not go far." He warned, pulling me into a quick side hug.

"I can't leave you guys," I said. "You're family." Gabe smiled, laying his arm over my shoulders and leading the way on our little walk. "I just think I should be somewhere a little more...clean."

"Understandable" Gabe nodded slowly as though he was deep in thought. It was silent for a bit after that because I really didn't want to talk. "Don't do it."

"I told you we aren't talking about it," I bitterly said, shoving my hands into my pockets.

"You know how not talking went last time." Gabe's voice held pain and concern. "You saw me in the hospital when I didn't know if Will was going to live or die." I frowned, of course remembering that. "In life we know we're successful when we've found that one person to share unconditional love with. Forced to wait in that small waiting room for like twelve hours without a single word on how Will was doing tore me apart. You love Brendon and he loves you. Of course seeing him in this condition is like your worst nightmare times a million." Gabe spoke calmly but seriously. I wouldn't cry. I've done enough of that lately. "Brendon's strong, Ryan. That kid has taken so much shit and so many beatings in his life that wherever he is right now, you can bet he's fighting to get out; to get to you."

"I don't want his body to sustain any kind of damage and the machines-"

"Fuck machines!" Gabe cut me off, a smile threatening my lips. "Machines tried to say Will died like three times in that fucking operating room but I'll be the first to tell you he's very much alive. Machines only know what's programmed into them; one of which things they lack is the understanding of the power of love."

"I don't want to keep him here if he's trying to move on though." I frowned, stopping as I realized where we had ended up. "And I'm not going to the cemetery either." I removed my hands from my pocket, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You haven't been here in a few months, Ryan." Gabe stopped beside me. "It'll do you some good to talk to someone beside me since I'm pretty sure I'm slightly high right now."

"Well talking to a gray tombstone will do little to change my mood. If anything, it'll make it worse." I turned to walk away, leaving Gabe standing in front of the iron gates by himself. I haven't been to the cemetery in a few months for good reason and I'm not going to go any time soon; especially when all I can think about is watching Brendon's body get lowered to the earth.

I've already watched one body do that and it's certainly not something I ever want to go through again. Alone, I walked back towards the loft, intent on getting those papers to go back to the hospital.
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