FicWad

A/N So I noticed the last chapter was missing views, I assume because it got kicked back in the thingumabob so quickly that nobody noticed! So you might want to check before reading because you would've missed A TON.

I thought everything was somehow over with Brendon and Ryan finally getting together and being forever lovers etc, but of course that’s not exactly how things work out. Nobody can make it easy for them.

I was walking in the middle of Target as Ryan called. “Spencer he won’t talk to me.” Ryan exclaims. “I called him and texted him-”

“Ryan,” I interrupt him, cutting him off, “I know you expect him to jump right into your arms. But he really did love Sarah, and I know I say that often, but he does love you. Give him time.”

“I don’t want to wait. I waited long enough.”

“It isn’t all about you!” I scoff, that should shut Ryan up. “You can’t make him run into your arms.”

“I should help him get through this though!” He rants.

“No,” I say too quickly, I take in a deep breath, “Brendon will come to you, and just be patient? I know that’s a challenge, but he’s worth it right?”

“He really is, yeah.”

“Gotta go, I need to check out.” I say as I approach an older woman standing behind the check out desk.

“Bye.” The line goes dead.
“Hello,” I say, putting on a small smile. The old woman, maybe in her seventies smiles back.

“Good day.” Her crackly voice fills the silent area. I put items on the table without paying attention, but then a girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen lines up behind me, even though there is nobody in the other line to the right of ours.

Pleasedon’tbeafan, pleasedon’tbeafan- Any day but today.

“Are you um… Spencer Smith?” Her voice is high, higher than I assume normal.

Oh, fuck.

“Yes, hi.” I turn to look at her, mimicking my smile from before.

“Wow, I really like your drumming… and stuff. Panic is great.” She’s awkward, I get it. She regrets trying to talk to me because she feels like she sounds stupid. Which she sort of does, but I won’t let her know that. I stare at her, her hood up so I can only see the outlines of her face.

“Thank you.” I feel bad, but so awkward because I am not the one who usually gets noticed because I usually wear a hoodie which I should’ve worn. “So what do you think of the new album?” Her face lights up. I probably made her day by continuing talking to her, which feels good because I’m usually the one ruining them.

“It’s perfect. I really like all the different elements put into it, it’s unexplainable.” She says, taking a breath. She looks exhausted, like she needs to rest. Certainly not healthy.

“Wow, nobody quite explained it like that to us.” I smile, I’m lying. We have heard that one before. “Thank you again!”

“My pleasure, you don’t believe how shocked I am to see you just around Target.” She says, rubbing her eyes from exhaustion.

“Aw, nice,” is all I have to say. I pay for my things and start putting things into the bags. “I have to go; want me to sign anything? Picture?” This is actually the first time I had to ask.

“Yes please.” She says with her smile wide.

“Miss, can I borrow a permanent marker?” The old woman hands me one. “Thank you.”

I sign her white iPhone, and she puts the clear case on over it, she takes a picture of us together, a calm smile on my face and hers too; which is also a bit strange.

The drive home is silent; I avoid the radio and let the middle-of-December rain that makes me want to take a nap and generally just stay inside. I walk in to the empty house with a few bags of various care items, putting away the items with little care. I take out my phone and text Brendon to see if he is still alive at the least, but I doubt he’ll answer.

My phone in my pocket vibrates. “Hey, Mom.”

“Spencer! How are you doing? It’s been so long I thought I’d call.”

“Good mom… thanks. And you? How’s dad or the twins?” I ask, the twins are both off to wherever, but I figure my mom would at least know.

“Everyone’s great! Ready for Christmas? You’re coming this year right? The twins are!”

“Of course!” I say excitedly. Christmas is the best because even though all of us “kids” are in their twenties, we still get gifts and food.

“You’re coming the day of Christmas Eve right?” I think for a moment. It’s December fifteenth, meaning it’s not too far away.

“Yeah sure.”

“Hey, your father wants to talk to you.” I hear rustling and then a breath.

“So how’s live been for you Spence?”

“Hey dad, it’s been alright.” I roll my eyes at his question, a move my dad would’ve bitched at me over if he was here.

“Alright? Good… a better state than last time, right?”

“I feel like I’m in high school again with all this drama.” I laugh sarcastically, running my hand through my hair as we speak.

“Oh… should you talk to your mother about it?” He asks; Dad was never the one to want to deal with drama. Ever.

I sigh into the phone. “I’ll see you soon, Dad.”

A small goodbye and I end the conversation, figuring I’d head out to Brendon’s house.
The walk there is somewhat nice, drizzling rain but the sun still shining with the smell of ozone. I approach Brendon’s door expecting it to be left open, but it is locked. Brendon’s door is never locked so my heart skips a beat. Relax, he’s probably… well what could he be doing?
“Brendon! Open up! It’s Spencer!” I say, but I hear no answer. I go to the side of his large house, wandering into the back yard and to the patio door. I slide it open, he having failed to lock it.

“Brendon?” I yell through the house, looking around each corner. The house is dead silent, not a TV, radio, nothing but the lights on, showing that he is somewhere. “Brendon? I have food?” I joke; Brendon was like a little puppy if you brought him something to eat. No answer.
I know I shouldn’t be worried. Brendon is a strong guy, he wouldn’t do anything stupid. “Brendon stop playing fucking hide and seek. You’re creeping me out.” I walk around the corner to see Brendon lying on the ground. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Brendon’s unconscious, only wearing pajama bottoms and blood rushing from the back of his head. “Brendon?” I lean in to try to hear him, only hearing a slight groan that I could barely hear; alcohol to his breath. My hand touches the small pool of blood, which I shiver at. It’s still warm, this must’ve just happened. But why wouldn’t he answer my calls? I get my phone out and call 911, them saying they’ll be here soon. “Fell down those stairs, huh?” I look at him. His eyes are squeezed shut, looking like he’s in pain. It doesn’t look like he broke anything, but the scrapes on his neck will probably scar. He starts shaking; I don’t know what to do but the emergency people rush into the house. “Brendon, Brendon… relax.” Paramedics surround him as someone pulls me off to the side.

“What happened here?” The man asks.

“I don’t know for sure… I um… called right when I came here. He must’ve been drinking and fell down these stairs.”

The man raises his eyebrow, looking over to Brendon who is getting his medical attention. They put him on the gurney and head for the door.

It dawns on me that Ryan is so oblivious- not knowing anything at all about what has happened. I dial his number as I run quickly to my house to grab my keys.

“Yeah?

“Ryan. Meet me at GS Hospital ASAP; seriously.”

“What happened?” A slight panic to his voice, “who’s hurt?”

“Brendon.” I say, I wait for a reply but the line goes dead.

--

We been waiting for about five hours in the waiting room and Ryan is a mess; you’d assume he’d be a patient himself with his eyes badly strained from tears. It’s weird seeing him actually really cry, unless you show him “The Notebook” or something.

“Ryan they said he’d be fine, we just have to wait now.” I say, having had enough of hearing him. Just seeing him cry makes you want to cry yourself.

“Do you not realize?” He sobs, “This is my entire fault? I came in his life and screwed everything up AGAIN!” His voice raises, I hush him.

“Maybe he just wanted to drink.” I say. Which is true, Brendon is the kind of person that can party on his own. Ryan doesn’t believe it and shakes his head, index finger and thumb covering his eyes as his elbow rests on his knee.

“Sure he did.” Ryan scoffs.

“I’m going to go to the cafeteria to get some coffee. Do you want anything?”

“Vodka,” He says, I give him a half-laugh/half-shut-up-you’re-really-not-funny-laugh. “Water.”

I walk off into the hospital and into the cafeteria. Nobody else is around because it’s not a meal time, but there is a younger girl with no hair getting water herself. She drops the phone from her hand, I reach down and pick it up.

The phone I signed today, I stare at it; my own signature on the white iPhone and its clear case. I look over to see the same girl.

“It’s you,” I say, giving the phone back to her. “What are you doing here?”I ask, I dumb question which I mentally stab myself over.

The girl from before has another smile on her face but it soon falls. “Well, cancer… I got diagnosed when I was thirteen, I’m seventeen now. I have to come here every night.” She says, looking down at her water.

“Wow. That’s terrible.”

“It’s okay. My friends always say ‘Don’t worry Claire, you’ll be back in no time.’” She shrugs. I look at her confused. “It’ll go away someday. Anyway, what brings you here, Spencer.”

“Well… uh… you know…” She raises her eyebrows. “Brendon fell down the stairs… and those things are uncovered so my friend and I been waiting for him.” She stares at me for a second trying to understand what’s happening.

“He’ll be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” Claire looks at her water and back to me. “Well I need to get back. Goodbye Spencer.” Her voice is weak, much different from earlier today.

“Goodbye, Claire.” She walks out slowly, almost looking painful.

That’s what kills me about hospitals. Sickness, pain, and that is all there is to it.
I grab my coffee and see Ryan, handing him his water. We sit there in silence until Brendon walks in. He looks a bit stiff from the fall, Ryan instantly standing up.

Brendon walks towards him, throwing his arm around Ryan’s neck and hugging him tightly. They both take it all in, staying in that position for a few moments.

“I’m sorry.” Brendon murmurs into Ryan’s neck. He kisses him gently on the cheek and I squirm. I’m not used to it quite yet.

“Shut up.” Ryan says somewhat sarcastically, tears still in his eyes. “What happened? Why weren’t you answering your calls? Why was your front door locked?”

“It was locked? My phone died, completely. It won’t charge. Then I tripped down the stairs…” He admits, pulling away from him. “And no Spencer, I didn’t drink that much to be drunk, I had one beer.”

“Oh.” I say, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Ryan. “That sucked. Don’t do that again.” I pat Brendon on the back as we head down the hallway to our cars.

Needless to say I’m ready to fall asleep.