Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Physical Therapy, Music, and A Switch
Ultimatums
4 reviewsSEQUEL TO LETHAL FORCE. //Rydon// After a horrible fight, Ryan moves across the country, only to realize how lonely it really is.
0Unrated
A/N: If you have NOT read Lethal Force, I suggest you read that one first. "Lethal Force":http://www.ficwad.com/story/195204 just follow that link and read away. But don't read this first. That could negatively damage your perception of this story. This will make a lot more sense if you've read Lethal Force. I promise.
Ultimatums
Five years had passed since Brendon and I were discharged from the military. Three years ago, I tried so hard to get him into physical therapy. I tried everything in my power to take care of him, but he stopped caring. So did I. I knew the physical therapy would work. It would benefit him and me. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life pushing him around, tucking him into bed, helping him pee, and feeding him. I don’t even care how selfish that sounds. I couldn’t do it. I thought I could take care of him because I thought he’d care enough. But he didn’t. I don’t want to care if he doesn’t.
Our fight three years ago went a little something like this…
”Okay, that’s it!” I yelled, slamming the door behind me as I walked in, “You NEED to go into physical therapy. I’m giving you an ultimatum here! You go into physical therapy or I leave!”
“Seriously, Ryan? You’re giving me an ultimatum? That’s so fucking selfish of you! I can’t even move any single part of my body! You’re so selfish! I can’t believe this!” he shook his head, “I am in pain every single second of every single day and you think I do jack shit?!”
“You DO do jack shit, Brendon! I’m not fucking selfish! I go to work every single damn day to make money for the two of us to live! Do you realize the last time we kissed was over three months ago? Do you realize the last time we had sex was five months ago? That’s because I’m so busy trying to make enough money for both of us to live off of! If you went into physical therapy, maybe YOU could get a fucking job! And I wouldn’t have to work so hard!”
“I offered to get a nurse, Ryan! I suggested it and you’ve shot it down countless times! So go ahead! Give me that ultimatum! I don’t think you’ll go through with it!”
“So what? You’re not gonna go into physical therapy then?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Not yet, no. I need—”
“Time. You need time. Alright, that’s it,” I went into the bedroom and started packing up my stuff. I wasn’t going to stay. He was just going to make my life a living hell. I wasn’t going to stay here to witness that.
“What are you doing?” he yelled into the room. I didn’t bother to respond. I wasn’t going to talk to him. I wasn’t going to tell him what I was doing. I wasn’t going to tell him where I was going. I just needed out. I’d do whatever it took to get away from him.
I finally came out with a suitcase filled with my most precious belongings. I went to the door before I finally turned to him, “Good bye, Brendon. Good luck getting anywhere in life,” and I walked out, closing the door behind me. I didn’t check to look at his facial expression. I didn’t even think about saying anything else.
And now here I am, three years later: heartbroken, scared, across the country, and without a love of my own. I work as a social media assistant at a record label near my apartment. It took me a long time to get here, but that’s okay because I’m at least semi happy.
True, I don’t have Brendon or, well… anyone to love for that matter, but that’s okay, I guess. Love is overrated, at any rate. However, a few months prior, I met a guy. His name was also Ryan, which I found was hilarious at the time. We hit it off and we dated for a while. We went by Ryan 1 and Ryan 2. I was 2 because my last name starts with an R.
At work one day, though, there was a bit of a turn of events.
“Ryan, the others and I have been talking about going to Las Vegas to check out a few local acts and talk to a few college—or other—kids who want to intern at our label.”
“Alright. What can I do for you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.
“We’d like you to come with us,” at which point my eyes were wider than they’d ever been. They wanted me to come with them?! But only people who were in charge of their own sectors got to go with the managers and stuff places! They wanted ME?
Like hell I was going to decline the offer! I nodded enthusiastically, “I’d love to go! When do we leave?”
“Tonight.”
Oh. Ryan. I had to tell Ryan. I had to let him know that I’d be leaving, even if it wasn’t going to be that long. So I did. I let him know as soon as I found out. And the following day, I was sitting on the plane, on my way to Las Vegas, with Ryan sitting next to me. He didn’t want to be without me. But that’s okay. I liked cuddling him. I pulled him close to me and kissed the side of his head, “You’re warm.”
He laughed, “Am I? I bet I can make you warm,” he winked, leaning over to kiss me on the lips. I was not complaining. I kissed him back, pulling him closer to me, yanking him up and onto my lap. As he sat in my lap, he moved so that he was straddling me and kissing me all the while.
We touched down in the Vegas airport and headed out. We all arrived at the Vegas branch of the label where there were tons of future interns sitting nervously in the office waiting room. I scanned all of them before heading into the place where we’d be holding interviews. I would be interviewing almost everyone. I was the preliminary interviewer, which was pretty damn cool.
As the interviews went on, Ryan was sitting in the chair next to mine, playing with my hair, rubbing my thigh, or just plain resting his head on my shoulder. I didn’t mind, I liked having him there. Interview after interview after interview. I sent a few to the next employer, but none of them quite struck my interest.
I didn’t look like I did three years ago, let alone five. My hair is shorter now, my skin is tanner, I lost some of my muscle, etc. Ryan looks more like what I used to than I do, which is vaguely amusing. This came to mind because none other than a brunette in a wheel chair came in. I recognized him and I wasn’t entirely sure if he did me.
He wheeled forward and handed me a stack of papers, “Now, before you rule me out because I’m a paraplegic, let me explain. I can use crutches. It’s not easy, but I can.”
Pretending to not know who he was, I took a look at his resume and scanned it over, “So you were in the military then?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Yeah, I was a Captain.”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow, “I recall you being a Lieutenant, or maybe I should shut up since, you know, you’re trying to sound cool,” I leaned back in the seat.
That’s when his eyes widened, “…R… Ryan?”
“Yes, that is my name,” I grinned. This was all so very amusing to me. Now I was the one in charge of him. This would be fun… Painful… but fun.
---
A/N: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED CHAPTER ONE OF THE SEQUEL! It gets better from here, I promise! Three reviews equals an update!
Ultimatums
Five years had passed since Brendon and I were discharged from the military. Three years ago, I tried so hard to get him into physical therapy. I tried everything in my power to take care of him, but he stopped caring. So did I. I knew the physical therapy would work. It would benefit him and me. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life pushing him around, tucking him into bed, helping him pee, and feeding him. I don’t even care how selfish that sounds. I couldn’t do it. I thought I could take care of him because I thought he’d care enough. But he didn’t. I don’t want to care if he doesn’t.
Our fight three years ago went a little something like this…
”Okay, that’s it!” I yelled, slamming the door behind me as I walked in, “You NEED to go into physical therapy. I’m giving you an ultimatum here! You go into physical therapy or I leave!”
“Seriously, Ryan? You’re giving me an ultimatum? That’s so fucking selfish of you! I can’t even move any single part of my body! You’re so selfish! I can’t believe this!” he shook his head, “I am in pain every single second of every single day and you think I do jack shit?!”
“You DO do jack shit, Brendon! I’m not fucking selfish! I go to work every single damn day to make money for the two of us to live! Do you realize the last time we kissed was over three months ago? Do you realize the last time we had sex was five months ago? That’s because I’m so busy trying to make enough money for both of us to live off of! If you went into physical therapy, maybe YOU could get a fucking job! And I wouldn’t have to work so hard!”
“I offered to get a nurse, Ryan! I suggested it and you’ve shot it down countless times! So go ahead! Give me that ultimatum! I don’t think you’ll go through with it!”
“So what? You’re not gonna go into physical therapy then?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Not yet, no. I need—”
“Time. You need time. Alright, that’s it,” I went into the bedroom and started packing up my stuff. I wasn’t going to stay. He was just going to make my life a living hell. I wasn’t going to stay here to witness that.
“What are you doing?” he yelled into the room. I didn’t bother to respond. I wasn’t going to talk to him. I wasn’t going to tell him what I was doing. I wasn’t going to tell him where I was going. I just needed out. I’d do whatever it took to get away from him.
I finally came out with a suitcase filled with my most precious belongings. I went to the door before I finally turned to him, “Good bye, Brendon. Good luck getting anywhere in life,” and I walked out, closing the door behind me. I didn’t check to look at his facial expression. I didn’t even think about saying anything else.
And now here I am, three years later: heartbroken, scared, across the country, and without a love of my own. I work as a social media assistant at a record label near my apartment. It took me a long time to get here, but that’s okay because I’m at least semi happy.
True, I don’t have Brendon or, well… anyone to love for that matter, but that’s okay, I guess. Love is overrated, at any rate. However, a few months prior, I met a guy. His name was also Ryan, which I found was hilarious at the time. We hit it off and we dated for a while. We went by Ryan 1 and Ryan 2. I was 2 because my last name starts with an R.
At work one day, though, there was a bit of a turn of events.
“Ryan, the others and I have been talking about going to Las Vegas to check out a few local acts and talk to a few college—or other—kids who want to intern at our label.”
“Alright. What can I do for you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.
“We’d like you to come with us,” at which point my eyes were wider than they’d ever been. They wanted me to come with them?! But only people who were in charge of their own sectors got to go with the managers and stuff places! They wanted ME?
Like hell I was going to decline the offer! I nodded enthusiastically, “I’d love to go! When do we leave?”
“Tonight.”
Oh. Ryan. I had to tell Ryan. I had to let him know that I’d be leaving, even if it wasn’t going to be that long. So I did. I let him know as soon as I found out. And the following day, I was sitting on the plane, on my way to Las Vegas, with Ryan sitting next to me. He didn’t want to be without me. But that’s okay. I liked cuddling him. I pulled him close to me and kissed the side of his head, “You’re warm.”
He laughed, “Am I? I bet I can make you warm,” he winked, leaning over to kiss me on the lips. I was not complaining. I kissed him back, pulling him closer to me, yanking him up and onto my lap. As he sat in my lap, he moved so that he was straddling me and kissing me all the while.
We touched down in the Vegas airport and headed out. We all arrived at the Vegas branch of the label where there were tons of future interns sitting nervously in the office waiting room. I scanned all of them before heading into the place where we’d be holding interviews. I would be interviewing almost everyone. I was the preliminary interviewer, which was pretty damn cool.
As the interviews went on, Ryan was sitting in the chair next to mine, playing with my hair, rubbing my thigh, or just plain resting his head on my shoulder. I didn’t mind, I liked having him there. Interview after interview after interview. I sent a few to the next employer, but none of them quite struck my interest.
I didn’t look like I did three years ago, let alone five. My hair is shorter now, my skin is tanner, I lost some of my muscle, etc. Ryan looks more like what I used to than I do, which is vaguely amusing. This came to mind because none other than a brunette in a wheel chair came in. I recognized him and I wasn’t entirely sure if he did me.
He wheeled forward and handed me a stack of papers, “Now, before you rule me out because I’m a paraplegic, let me explain. I can use crutches. It’s not easy, but I can.”
Pretending to not know who he was, I took a look at his resume and scanned it over, “So you were in the military then?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Yeah, I was a Captain.”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow, “I recall you being a Lieutenant, or maybe I should shut up since, you know, you’re trying to sound cool,” I leaned back in the seat.
That’s when his eyes widened, “…R… Ryan?”
“Yes, that is my name,” I grinned. This was all so very amusing to me. Now I was the one in charge of him. This would be fun… Painful… but fun.
---
A/N: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED CHAPTER ONE OF THE SEQUEL! It gets better from here, I promise! Three reviews equals an update!
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