FicWad

I was going to wait until the morning to post this but thanks to a little review from wayuphighify I couldn't bear to go to sleep without knowing that this was up. Now if you'll excuse me, (yawns) I'm gonna go get some sleep. :)


I opened my eyes and nearly jumped out of my skin. Not only did I actually open my eyes, I was lying in a hospital bed.

“This must be heaven.” I whispered to myself, wishing that I was right.

To my disappointment, I turned to the side to see Ryan sleeping awkwardly on a stiff-looking couch. He looked like an angel though, his mop of chocolate brown hair covering his closed eyes, his pale skin glowing. A look of grief and pain covered his face, making me just want to pull him into the soft hospital bed with me and assure him that I was still alive. I wanted to wake him up there and then, but I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t think Ryan would love me anymore after the stunt I had pulled, after all the things I’d dragged him through. Maybe when he woke up we could still be friends. That was highly unlikely in my mind.

On his chest sat a ratty notebook. I knew that notebook. Ryan wrote everything in there privately. Maybe he wrote what he felt about my latest antics. My heart almost skipped a beat at the next thought.

Maybe he wrote if he still loved me or not.

I picked up the notebook eagerly, but I remained cautious not to wake him. Flipping through the pages, I felt my heart swell so much that I thought it might burst out of my chest. Every page had a poem or song written about me.

Every. Single. One.

On the most recent page, I stopped and read through the bits of a song he had written multiple times.

The IV and your hospital bed
This was no accident, this was a therapeutic chain of events
This was definitely written while he was in here.

This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital
It's not so pleasant
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal

Was he talking about him and Spencer waiting in the hospital for me?

Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again

He was probably talking about taking away the weapons I had possessed over the previous few days and getting me to calm down. I wouldn’t blame him.

You're a regular decorated emergency
The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake
You've earned a place atop the ICUs hall of fame

No kidding, I was a mess.

I closed the notebook and looked over at Ryan’s sleeping figure. He looked so worried and ill in his sleep, it made me kind of scared. I continued to watch Ryan’s shoulders rise and descend as his breathing kept a steady pace. After what felt like hours, Spencer walked into the room and embraced me tightly.

“We thought you were dead.” I felt his tears land on my shoulder as he whispered into my ear.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer.” I tried to hold back tears to no avail.

“He considered killing himself when we were in the waiting room. He truly thought you were dead and wanted to join you.” he choked out.

I was taken aback by that and the fact that Spencer was crying. Why did Ryan care so much about me? I was just a whiny and emotional little kid.

“I-I didn’t think h-he would feel l-like that. I th-thought that he w-would be glad to n-not have a-a snot-nosed kid t-tagging along.” I blubbered.

Spencer pulled away and nearly smacked me.

“Ryan loves you more than everything in the world, Brendon. Why would he ever think of you as some snot-nosed kid? You’re not tagging along, we want you with us. Ryan wants you, goddamn it!”

My heavy sobs turned into soft whimpers as Spencer grasped my shoulders firmly.

“I’m sorry.” was all I could manage.

I looked away to hide my embarrassment and shame. They wanted me with them and I tried to leave them forever! Spencer’s grip suddenly loosened and he brought a finger to his lips. He backed out of the room slowly, eyes never moving from something beside me. I followed his gaze over to where Ryan was stirring on the couch. He opened his eyes and glanced at me like I was a miracle of some sort. The glance quickly turned into a murderous glare.

"Am I really that horrible?! Does my presence make you want to commit fucking suicide?!" Ryan questioned hysterically.

"I thought that you didn't want me around." I whispered.

"What made you think that?" he challenged.

He had a point. What the hell had I been thinking?

"I don't know, I didn't think that-"

Ryan stood up and I could see his face burning red with anger. I hated seeing him angry.

"Exactly! You didn't think, and when you do, you only think about yourself. Never about other people and how they feel!"

"I'm sorry, Ry." I choked as salty tears raced down my face.

Ryan's expression softened at the sight of my tears.

"Why do I always do that to you?"

He climbed into the hospital bed with me and pulled me close, making me smile a little.

“I just thought that you were getting tired of me.” I admitted through the tears.

Ryan gave me a mock-stern look, making me laugh and forget about feeling unwanted.

“I love when you laugh, Bren,” he murmured, “But I love it more when you kiss me.”

I leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his lips, but Ryan had other plans. His fingers laced together behind my neck and kept me close. My heartbeat sped up and I knew for sure that everything he had said before was true. It wasn’t the usual sloppy kiss, but a simple, delicate one. Ryan was obviously still recovering from my recent antics, unprepared to fully trust me. It would probably be a while, but that didn’t matter for the moment. All that mattered were Ryan and I.