FicWad

Against my better judgment, I have decided to add another part to this story because enough people have wanted more. I'm sorry if it sucks, the dialogue messed things up. This is the last part
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He awoke to the feeling of a hand in his and an arm around him. At first his mind was met with confusion, but it melted as the events from the previous night came back to mind. He turned to his side and looked at the beautiful boy lying beside him.

Turning fully onto his side, he put his left hand on the other boy’s right cheek. He leaned forward and pressed a delicate kiss to the other boy’s lips. There was no reaction from the boy so he inched closer and kissed him again, still gentle but firmer this time.

The other boy’s eyelids moved and in a second he was met by two hazel orbs staring into his brown eyes. “Brendon,” the boy whispered with a smile, he then leaned in for another kiss. Brendon complied and attempted to pour his happiness into the touch of their lips.

When they parted they only looked into each other’s eyes. Brendon remembered everything that had occurred the last night. He remembered showing himself to the other boy, he remembered being allowed to touch the other boy’s pain, and he remembered his promise. He would never go back on his promise.

“Ryan,” he whispered to the other boy. The other boy smiled again, and he wrapped his arms around him, drawing Ryan to his chest.

They lay in the position for a few minutes, neither of them talked; they held each other and Brendon breathed Ryan in. He closed his eyes; he couldn’t remember ever being happier.

“Why don’t we get something to eat?” he asked when they let each other go. He sat up and loosened the tension in his muscles.

“That sounds good, I don’t really remember the last time I ate,” Ryan said, standing.

Brendon paused, neither of them had money. “Ryan, we have to go to my house. I need to get some money. I don’t think that anyone else is awake though,” he said reassuringly when he noticed Ryan’s uneasy expression.

He nodded, “Okay, come on,” he held his hand out to Brendon. Brendon took it willingly and walked alongside Ryan.

They walked out of the park and when Ryan hesitated, he gently pulled him in the direction of his house. He watched in amusement as the other boy’s face reflected his shock. “What is it?” he asked when they halted in the front of his house, pretending he didn’t know.

“I only live a few doors away. My house is down that way,” he said, gesturing.

Brendon laughed and kissed Ryan on the cheek. “How fortunate,” he said with a smile. He turned to his house and eased the door open slowly. His assumption had been correct; both of his parents were unconscious. After he stepped in, he noticed that Ryan was no longer following him.

“I’ll wait for you right here. Just in case your parents wake up,” he said, glancing in the door nervously.

“Okay,” Brendon said. “I’ll be back fast, I promise.” He dashed into the house and retrieved his wallet from his desk. As he made his way back down, he contemplated Ryan’s reluctance to come in. Perhaps he had no other reason other than not desiring to be standing right there when his parents regained consciousness. Before he could think about it any longer he was standing beside Ryan, closing the door on the pathetic scene inside.

“Where are we going?” Ryan asked. The day had really just begun, Brendon estimated the time to land somewhere near 6:30.

He let the question remain unanswered; instead he laid his arm across Ryan’s shoulder and pushed his head in his direction, he turned his face and kissed his temple. They were nearing the busier part of town where the businesses were.

As was expected, there was almost nothing open. However, he happened to notice a single, flickering light from a window. He nudged Ryan and motioned in the direction of the small restaurant. Ryan moved his shoulders noncommittally so Brendon pulled him toward the door.

The two boys were overwhelmed immediately by the scent of food cooking. For the first time Brendon was aware of how hungry he truly was, his stomach responded to the smell by clenching and releasing a loud noise. Ryan laughed quietly and the two took their seats in a booth.
Barely any time passed before a woman approached. “Aren’t you two cute? Breakfast I assume? What would you like?”

The two looked down. They had only talked to each other. They mumbled their choices and clarified by pointing to the entries printed in the menu. The woman smiled without a tinge of annoyance and walked away.
****
Ryan looked up and smiled at Brendon. He was still blushing and staring at the floor but Ryan didn’t mind. Brendon truly was beautiful, on the inside and out.

Chocolate brown eyes that always gazed at him warmly, black hair that fell into his eyes, a beautiful smile that Ryan could never help but return, and his thin, muscular frame were his outer attributes. On the inside he was caring, nice, sweet, supportive, vulnerable, in pain, and understanding. Ryan loved every one of Brendon’s traits.

Brendon looked up, his eyes meeting Ryan’s. Ryan’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes were wide and beautiful, and they looked at him as if he were the most important person in the world. He felt his mouth stretch into a small smile; they could never help doing it when Brendon looked at him. When Brendon returned the smile, his got wider.

Under the table, he felt the other boy’s hand close around his own. He shivered and wrapped his fingers around the other hand. There was no need for conversation; they only needed each other’s presence.

Fewer than fifteen minutes had passed when the food arrived at the table. Ryan stared at the golden pile of eggs that rested on his plate. Brendon had already released his hand and had begun eating with vigor; Ryan lifted his fork and dug it into the fluffy pile of scrambled eggs. The food was amazing to his starved stomach.

They both finished quickly and Brendon paid the bill, laying an extra amount of money on the table for their waitress, a rather large extra amount of money. They took their leave, but Brendon paused outside the window and gazed in at the table, Ryan joined him.

The waitress made her way to the table and looked pleasantly surprised when her eyes rested on the bills that had been left for her. Brendon smiled happily and took Ryan’s hand. They turned and began to walk down the street that was getting busier with every passing second.

“I have an idea of where we should go,” Ryan said, pulling on Brendon’s hand and leading him onto a different street going deeper into the city.

“Alright.” Brendon followed Ryan willingly, making Ryan smile. He was with the only person in the world who cared about him, and he was genuinely happier than he had ever been as a child.

They were the recipients of a few disapproving glances but Ryan didn’t care at all; he only grasped Brendon’s hand tighter and continued to walk. He was excited for Brendon to see the location he was leading him to, it was Ryan’s favorite place to be, directly after the park.

When they stopped, Brendon gasped and stared at the storefront. His chocolate eyes widened and Ryan couldn’t help but grin and kiss his cheek. “Come on, it’s better on the inside,” he whispered, pulling Brendon into the shop.

If at all possible, Brendon’s eyes became wider when his eyes rested on the inside of the music store. Ryan knew what he felt, the sight of the instruments, in perfect condition, was breathtaking. “That’s not even the best part,” Ryan said softly, guiding Brendon to the back with a teasing smile.

“There-there are rooms to practice in?” he asked in disbelief. Ryan almost laughed, but refrained and replied.

“We can use them, which instrument do you want to play?” he asked, he was overjoyed that Brendon was as fixated by his special place as he was.

“They let you use them?” Brendon asked incredulously. He was now gazing at Ryan as if he were the most wonderful person in the world.

Ryan laughed, “Of course, they let everyone use them. Though they do let me use them for as long as I want to. Most are only allowed five minutes.” He smiled when Brendon leaned in and kissed him in his excitement, eyes widened and shining.

“You said that you can play instruments. Which ones?” Ryan asked curiously.

Brendon then blushed and looked down, “Piano, guitar, bass, drums, accordion, violin, cello, trumpet, and a few others,” he responded quietly, refusing to meet Ryan’s eyes.

Ryan tried his hardest not to stare at the boy in front of him but he found it difficult. He played nearly ten different instruments and he was able to sing as well! “You’re very talented,” he observed softly, attempting to make the other boy comfortable enough to look at him again. He succeeded.

“Thank you,” Brendon whispered, peering into Ryan’s brown eyes.

Ryan smiled. “Which instrument would you like to play? You’ll have to be able to play and sing at the same time, I’d like for you to sing one of the songs that I’ve written.”

Brendon nodded slowly, a small smile on his beautiful face. “I’ll play the guitar.”

“Alright,” he stepped over to the wall that held the guitars; he chose one for himself and another one for Brendon. Ryan nodded toward the door of one of the private rooms and Brendon turned the knob, pushing it open.
****
Brendon was amazed by this small piece of heaven that seemed to exist on earth; there were now two locations that were a better option than his own house. He turned toward Ryan and accepted the guitar he was offering. The strap fit over his shoulder perfectly, the weight felt just right, he could feel his fingers position themselves; he smiled, this was what he was meant to do.

Ryan smiled at him, he reached into a pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper; he held it out to Brendon. Brendon took it and unfolded the softened paper, the creases running deep. On it were words printed in Ryan’s handwriting joined with chords above them. He studied the writing and placed his fingers on the strings, constructing the written chords, mouthing the words at the same time; he turned his head toward Ryan and nodded.

The other boy nodded back with a smile. He played the first series of chords, Brendon joined in with his fingers and his voice and they were making beautiful music. The lyrics that Ryan wrote carried emotions that caused Brendon’s chest to swell with an overwhelming desire to sing the words with the emotions written.

Faster than they realized, the song had ended. They stood, breathless at the amazing sound they had created. Brendon raised the guitar over his head and placed it against the wall, Ryan did the same. They looked at each other and a small smile fixed itself onto their faces.

“That was beautiful Brendon. Thank you,” Ryan whispered, as if he feared if he spoke too loudly it would ruin the feeling in the atmosphere.

In response Brendon walked up to Ryan, placed one hand on his cheek and pressed his lips against the other boy’s. He attempted to place all of his emotions at that exact moment into the kiss; his happiness, passion, peace of mind, and every emotion Ryan had caused him to feel with his song. When he stepped back, Ryan held onto his wrists.

“I feel the same way,” he whispered again. This time he connected their lips, Brendon leaned in willingly. They remained that way for a long while; their mouths moving together. It felt like it was supposed to be, like they belonged that way; to Brendon it felt like heaven.

He lifted his hands and tangled his fingers in Ryan’s silky brown hair. Ryan responded by placing his hands at the back of Brendon’s neck so his fingertips touched and his thumbs rested along the back of Brendon’s jaw. This was the way Brendon wished to remain for eternity; the world could come crashing down on their heads now and Brendon wouldn’t mind, he was with Ryan and Ryan made him happy and freed him from everything.

There was soft knock on the door; a young girl with straight black hair, who couldn’t have been older than ten, looked in with a wary expression. She looked as if she was unsure whether she was interrupting something important or not.

Brendon turned and opened the door for her, so she could speak and they could hear her. Behind him, Ryan slinked his arms around Brendon’s waist and rested his chin on his shoulders. Brendon smiled warmly at the little girl, inviting her to speak.

“I-I-I heard you playing and I listened; it sounded so beautiful. When I heard you stop I waited to see if you would continue playing, because the first song was brilliant,” she said shyly. She looked up at them, hiding behind her bangs. “Are you going to continue singing?” she asked.

“Did you really like it?” Ryan asked. He sounded astonished and Brendon wasn’t sure why. The music he’d written was brilliant just as the girl had said; the lyrics added to the breathtaking beauty. He was unsure whether his voice added anything or if it was only a channel for the emotion; he didn’t really care which was true.

The girl nodded enthusiastically. “I don’t know much about music, I’ve only just started taking piano lessons. I do know that I would buy any CD that sounded like that though. Do you have a name for it yet?”

Brendon could feel Ryan shake his head. “Not yet. I haven’t gotten any ideas for what to call it. And thank you, your support means a lot to us.” Brendon smiled.

She blushed a little. “My mommy told me that if I like something I should tell the person or people who created it.”

“You have a very smart mommy. That’s good advice,” Brendon said, smiling at the thought that this little girl had such a good mother, all little children deserved to have good parents.

Her bright blue eyes widened a little. “You’re the voice?”

He laughed. “Yes, I sang the song.”

“Your voice is part of what makes the song so perfect; your voice and the music. You both make it beautiful,” she said with a soft smile. As soon as the words left her mouth she looked away and blushed again, making Brendon smile again.

Behind him, Ryan squeezed Brendon a little tighter. Brendon’s smile widened and he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back so that when he opened them he was looking Ryan in the eyes. Ryan was smiling. He turned his head and Ryan tilted his. Their lips connected once again, they remained together for a few seconds, and then they parted, remembering that the girl was still in the room.

“You make a very good music critic,” Ryan observed. “Is there anything more?”

She shook her head shyly. “The two of you make it perfect.”

“It is supposed to have more instruments. There are only two of us though. If there were more people it would sound better,” Ryan answered simply, arms still around Brendon.

There was the sound of a voice calling, “Macy!” The little girl glanced behind her shoulder and took a step back. She looked back at them and smiled. “I still think it’s perfect.”
****
Ryan was smiling; he had enjoyed the company of the girl. She had excellent insight that encouraged him that his music was better than he thought. “Is it really as beautiful as she says?” he wondered aloud.

Brendon turned in his arms and rested his hands on each side of his head. He was looking into the chocolate orbs and Brendon was looking into his hazel eyes. Brendon firmly, yet gently pressed his lips to Ryan’s forehead for a few seconds. “It’s perfect,” he whispered against his skin.

Ryan closed his eyes, allowing himself to revel in Brendon’s touch. Brendon pulled him into a hug and he couldn’t resist smiling and leaning into him. He set his head atop the black hair and breathed him in. Brendon’s scent was unbelievably amazing. He hmmed happily and Brendon drew him closer. They stood like that for a few minutes before Brendon released Ryan’s body and seated himself at the piano in the room.

He put his fingers on the keys and pressed down in the correct places to form music that Ryan had never heard before. He sat down next to Brendon and watched, mesmerized by the graceful, long fingers that danced on the keyboard.

Ryan closed his eyes and listened to Brendon.

“Mama, I killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled the trigger now he’s dead.”

The song continued flowing in the air and over Ryan.

The ending came too soon in his opinion. Brendon finished, tapping the final two keys.

Ryan leaned over and rested his head on Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon kissed his hair and rested his head on Ryan’s.

“You played wonderfully. I liked it,” Ryan said.

Brendon squirmed in an embarrassed fashion. “Theirs sounds much better.”

“I doubt it,” he said, turning his head to kiss Brendon on the cheek. “Your voice is beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.”

A warm feeling blossomed in Ryan’s chest and he snuggled closer into Brendon. They sat together for a long time, occasionally Brendon’s fingers would play on the keyboard, sometimes Ryan’s did, and sometimes they played together. They sat beside each other on the piano bench, relishing in the happiness and closeness.

They sat together for an hour and it was now almost eleven-thirty. Beside him, Brendon’s belly rumbled; he held back a laugh and turned his head to look at Brendon. “Should we go to get something to eat?” he asked, placing his hand, palm up between them.

Brendon grinned and placed his hand over the top of Ryan’s. “We should.”

They exited the music store and he felt the chilly air engulf him. The two walked down the street and into a gas station where they bought little things to eat while they walked back to the park.

At the park there were small children running around, playing games on the grass of the park, swinging on the swings, sliding on the slides, and spinning on the merry-go-round. It made Ryan smile to see the kids having fun. He’d never had anything like that he knew; it was nice to know that not everyone went through what he had to.

Brendon squeezed his hand a bit. He said nothing and he didn’t look over but Ryan could see the smile on his face. Ryan smiled as well and held tighter onto the chocolate-eyed boy’s hand. It was comforting now to have someone to be around.

They walked for a long while and they talked more about themselves and how things went in their lives. But they didn’t only talk about the bad, they also talked about the things that they liked to do and they found that they had more in common than their terrible lives.
****
Brendon enjoyed walking with Ryan. It was a wonderful distraction from what he normally thought about. And he was so happy that everything had happened the way it had to get them at that point.

He gently applied more pressure to Ryan’s hand in his and looked over at him to smile. It was impossible to forget about this boy beside him, the one that had painted a bright spot on his life. He didn’t intend to let this go any time soon.

The day passed much faster than either of them would have liked and they were alone once again. Brendon was aware of the fact that they could not stay at the park again. He wished to take Ryan home with him, to protect him from his father.

“Ryan,” he said quietly. The other boy looked over, hazel eyes showing his reply. “I don’t want you to have to go home.”

“We can’t stay here, though,” Ryan replied, finishing his thought. Brendon nodded his head in response. Ryan took a breath and seemed to think about it for a moment. He glanced over in Brendon’s direction and nodded to the empty air in front of him. He looked over properly and reached for Brendon’s hand again. “Okay.”

He breathed easier at that and gladly wrapped his fingers around the other hand. “Stay close to me and follow what I do,” he said. There was no guarantee of what they might find at his house so he saw it necessary to warn the skinny boy that stole his heart and mind.

Ryan nodded and the pressure on his hand increased marginally. Resolutely, he led the hazel-eyed boy back to his house, wishing it were morning again and he could be absolutely certain that his parents weren’t conscious. He wasn’t able to let Ryan return to his house though, that was not an option.

They paused outside of his door and he listened. There was no sound of yelling or the breaking of things, and that was a good sign. It could also mean that a fight would erupt soon though. Whatever it was; now was the time to go in. Brendon put his hand on the knob and turned.

Inside stood a nightmare. The two adults who owned the house were waiting for him. He could instantly tell that they were drunk and by the stiffening of Ryan the other boy was able to as well. For a few seconds it was silence. In those seconds, Brendon moved mostly in front of Ryan, to protect him from his parents’ seeing him.

“Where were you last night?” his father asked. It was a tone that was meant to be serious, but there was no possible way for it to be the way it was supposed to with the alcohol clouding in their brains. As was normal, he made no attempt to answer the question and simply looked back.

“You better answer us or we’ll make you answer,” his mother said. Once again, he did not make his reaction visible. There was no doubt in his head that they would make him answer their questions. With that in mind, he prodded the boy behind him lightly with his elbow.

Without turning his head and through a mouth barely more than a slit he said, “Ryan, go up the stairs and down the hall, my room is the last on the left.” Behind him Ryan hesitated and he knew that there would be a hesitant expression on the boy’s face.

“Do it please,” he muttered again. In the corner of his eye he saw the brown-haired boy nod and step out from behind his back gradually. Neither of his parents noticed the figure made of skin and bones that mounted the stairs with the silence of one who was accustomed to sneaking away.

When he was positive that Ryan had left the floor, he turned back to the adults that had been his parents.
****
He did not wish to leave the dark-haired boy alone to face the people responsible for his creation, the same people who drove him to hurt himself nightly. No sooner had he gone through the doorway of Brendon’s room there was a crash beneath him.

A familiar spark rushed through him and he responded to it the way he knew how. The door behind him was shut quickly and when the click resounded he sank to the floor with his back against it.

He tried to remind himself that he was not home; his father was not behind him. It was not wholly effective.

Only a handful of seconds following the crash there came the sound of yelling. Ryan was able to perfectly picture the boy in his room, night after night, listening to the same sound, covering his ears and cutting his arms. He thought he heard a cracking sound from his chest.

The yelling lasted longer than he cared to figure out. At a point, someone attempted to open the door and it tapped him lightly in the back. He repositioned himself and looked up to see Brendon standing in the doorway. His face contained no emotion and it didn’t appear that he really saw Ryan.

When the door was clear, the boy with black hair stepped into the room and went immediately to his desk. A drawer squeaked out and there was a pale hand rummaging inside of it.

Nervous, Ryan stood and pushed the wooden barrier shut behind him. He moved lightly to see what the other boy had and started when he saw the glinting of the thin knife that he’d been told about the previous night.

Shaking with rage, and tears, Brendon rolled his shirtsleeve up his pale arm and moved the knife so it rested against his upper arm. In alarm, Ryan moved forward and put his arms securely around the other boy.
****
Brendon watched as the thin knife was worked out of his hand and set back onto the top of the desk. There were tears cascading down his face and when the thin arms around him came back he couldn’t stop the salty water from coming faster. Ryan held him tighter and perched on the side of the bed.

Sobbing, Brendon curled in on himself so he was wrapped partly around Ryan. He rested his forehead on the other boy’s shoulder and let himself empty.

Ryan didn’t tell him that it would be okay, he didn’t shush him, he didn’t whisper that Brendon was okay, he didn’t tell him to calm down, and Brendon appreciated it. The only sound the skinny boy made was soft singing, words about him being there for him. Brendon moved closer and the long, spidery hands of his new-found love came further around him.

There was a light as feathers kiss pressed to the top of his head and he closed his eyes tighter, trying to move closer. Above him, Ryan shifted a little and they were lying down.

Brendon removed his head from the safe place that was the meeting of Ryan’s neck and shoulder and looked up. “Thank you.”

Ryan shook his head and pressed another kiss to his head. Brendon let out a breath.

“I love you.”

Ryan’s hazel eyes were wide. Brendon could guess that it was the first time he’d heard those words in his life. That thought made him sad, and he moved up to kiss Ryan’s lips. When the long kiss ended, Ryan’s eyes were still closed and he rested their foreheads together.

“I love you, too.”

Brendon let a small smile on his face. His tears were drying up and he was beginning to forget about the adults downstairs. He inched them up the bed and dragged the blanket up and over them, burying them in the soft warmth.

It wasn’t long before either fell asleep.
****
The morning sun was shining through the glass of the window of Brendon’s room. The boy himself was lying asleep at his side and he couldn’t stop himself from staring at him for a minute or two. Softly, he moved forward and whispered in the other’s ear.

“Brendon, wake up.”

Dark brown eyes opened to him, narrowed against the light. “Last night wasn’t a dream,” the boy whispered. Ryan shook his head, daring to smile just a little.

“Let’s leave.”

Ryan blinked. “What do you mean?” The tone of voice of the other boy caught his confusion. He knew that Brendon didn’t only mean the house.

“Let’s go somewhere else, far away from all of this.” Brendon’s eyes were wide and he sat up with a wild gleam in the chocolate brown depths.

“Where will we go?”

“Wherever we want to.” Ryan admitted to himself that the idea was appealing, irresistibly appealing. The pure passion in the other boy’s eyes also urged him on. Without being fully aware of it, he found himself nodding. A grin spread itself on the bottom of Brendon’s face, and the boy captured his lips feverishly.

The kiss broke again and Brendon left the bed, leaving Ryan a step behind everything that was happening. A bag landed on the bed and clothes were being thrust inside. Brendon looked back at him as he still sat there under his blanket. “We’ll go back to your house so you can pack, if you want,” he offered.

Ryan started. He didn’t want to go back, but there were things that he needed. If luck was on his side, his father was unconscious or away from the house. He nodded and stepped out of the bed.

It didn’t take much time for Brendon to pack; it was as if he’d been prepared to do this. Brendon paused, bag dangling from his shoulder and he cocked his head toward his door. “Let’s go out the window, I’d like to avoid my parents.”

Ryan didn’t care, he just shadowed Brendon to the window and watched the other boy open the window and toss his bag out of it. It appeared that he was accustomed to performing this act. The boy lifted Ryan’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it before slipping his thin body out of the window frame and sliding down the roof.

Cautiously, Ryan stepped through the window, skinny enough to only have to turn slightly to the side, and joined Brendon, clutching at the shingles to keep himself steady. Brendon smiled warmly at him and dropped to the ground, Ryan following a second after.

As they made their way to his house, his desire to escape to another city, another state, grew. When the house came into sight, however, he slowed because when had luck ever been on his side?

“Stay out here,” he said softly, wanting to keep Brendon from getting hurt. Brendon was about to protest but Ryan pressed a soft kiss to his lips first. “Please?” And Brendon nodded.

Ryan cautiously walked to the front door of the house he’d lived in the majority of his life. He took a small breath and pushed the door open as quietly and as little as possible. When enough space had opened up he slipped through and shut the door behind him.

There was no indication that his father was home so he didn’t go to look. Instead he went to the stairs, creeping up quietly to his room. When inside, he stepped over to his closet and peered inside to locate a bag that he could use. He found one and turned to put on his bed. Then he froze.

Leaning on the wall, behind the spot the door had covered, was his father, arms crossed, face set. Ryan felt his eyes grow and he backed up a little though there was nothing but wall behind him.

The older man stalked forward, fists clenched, eyes blazing.

“You little fuck. Where do you think you’re going?” the man growled.

Ryan hunched into himself. If he didn’t answer, there was a miniscule chance that the beating wouldn’t be so severe. He praised the fact that Brendon was safely outside, away from this.

A fist caught him hard in the stomach and he was knocked backward into the wall with a small ‘oof’. He stayed where he was because any act of defiance would make things that much worse. A hand closed around his shoulder and jerked him away from the wall, throwing him across his room so he stumbled over his feet. The older man brought a hand up and slapped him across the face, hard. Ryan spun and held back his yelp.

“Come on, fight. Actually do something you pathetic waste of space.” His father advanced again and swung out at his chest, getting his ribs with his hard knuckles. The man stepped forward and grabbed his throat, pushing him up against the wall, pressing on his larynx and cutting off his air.

Ryan’s hands flew up to his father’s, trying to pry it off of his airway, lungs starting to get a little uncomfortable. He kicked desperately and tilted his chin up, searching for air. His feet hit his father’s legs but it didn’t have much effect because he couldn’t gather the strength to hit with more force.

Black was gathering on the edge of his vision as air became harder to come by. He was losing strength more rapidly now as he gasped. There was an evil sneer on his father’s face as his son faded in front of him. Ryan looked on the face of the man who had taken him from safety just so he could do this.

The worst part was that Ryan couldn’t smell any fresh alcohol.

In a final desperate attempt, he kicked out with as much force as he could muster and the man stumbled away. Ryan dropped to the ground and watched in amazement. He’d managed to hit his father in the knees and it was hard enough to get him away.

His father looked back at him with fierce eyes and began to rush at him but he was caught from behind by a short boy with black hair.
****
Brendon pulled the man back and yanked him down so he wasn’t as much taller. He fell backwards by mistake, taking the older man with him. Unfortunately for Ryan’s father they were right by the skinny boy’s dresser and his head collided with the hard, wooden side.

When the man went limp in his arms he stared. It had been hard enough that the man was stunned. Brendon shook himself. “Ryan, get your things, quick. I don’t know how long he’ll be down.”

Ryan got up shakily, unable to tear his eyes from his father’s still form. He blinked though and gathered clothing, forcing it into his bag and closing it up. “I’m ready.”

Brendon smiled a little and pulled Ryan closer. He’d worried about how the time was stretching out and guessed on the worst. When he got in the room Ryan had been pressed to the wall, just before he kicked and got his father away from him.

They climbed down the stairs and the smell of alcohol burned in his nose like it had before. He was glad to be removing Ryan from this.

Outside, he lifted his own bag and secured it around his shoulders. Then, one hand entwined in Ryan’s, the two of them left their lives, together.