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Whatever made Ryan react like this- he doesn't know. 

Well, yes he does. Bipolar and depression. But he never expected to be dry heaving every day before school, erratically moving around, and wanting to just fall on the floor because he's not sure if his knees will hold him up much longer. That really isn't a side effect to those problems. It just sucks to be Ryan Ross.

He's pretty sure people are just purposely pushing him into the wall of lockers when he's by his, moaning a "Stooooop". 

They never stop. He just hears laughs. 

He wishes he could laugh as genuinely as those kids.

Classes aren't that bad, especially since the teacher doesn't even call on anybody out of the blue, and Ryan's never raising his hand. The kid he sits next to, Brendon Urie, is probably the only person in the school he doesn't mind being around. Brendon is good at talking to Ryan. Ryan doesn't have to do much talking; but when he is around Brendon things change. 

But Ryan suddenly has a lot to say to Brendon Urie.

"But think about it. Even though I got it right the first time and picked up the skill, you, by not getting it right, learn patience too as well as how to work with invisible numbers." Ryan could go on about his philosophy on how the mind works, but he has to keep it short and sweet so they don't get in trouble. He doesn't like getting in trouble. He doesn't like not being liked. 

And if that makes him stay away from all of the student body minus one, so be it.

Brendon smiles sadly, (if that's possible) and looks down at the paper in front of him. "I'll never be patient anyway." His pencil falls to the desk and he rests his head on his arms.

Ryan wonders what it's like to be Brendon. What is it even like to live a life not like his? 

"When does the bell ring?" Brendon asks, sounding still upset and frustrated. 

"Five minutes. Sorry sitting next to me is that horrifying." Ryan replies solemnly.  

"Not what I meant. Lunch is next anyway. You better be sitting right there with me." 

Ryan smiles to himself and to his friend, "I will be."

"Good because you're cool." Brendon's cheeks instantly redden.

Ryan snorts, fucking snorts, at the compliment. He knows for sure that he is in fact the English nerd of the school, even having occasional glasses that will rest low on his button nose. 

"I have a question," Ryan voices, sitting next to Brendon at the otherwise empty lunch table, "why are glasses nerdy? I think they are fine. All they do is help you see. You can't help it that you're fucking blind."

Brendon smiles and nods, "I agree. Why don't you wear yours?"

"I look like an idiot." Ryan frowns. People wouldn't like him if he wore his glasses, he thinks. 

"You're the smartest person I know." Brendon says pointedly. He never understood how much his compliments mean to Ryan. He doesn't know much about Ryan. "I bet you look fine." 

"Thanks." Ryan mutters.

Ryan feels nervous. He doesn't know what's wrong, but apparently his body does. He thinks his body hates being here more than he does. 

Whatever is happening doesn't make sense. 

"I'm going to use the bathroom." Ryan rushes, standing from his seat and hurrying into a bathroom stall. He breathes; trying to let his body relax but it simply wont. He leans over the toilet and throws up   the food he's barely even touched. 

Why. Whywhywhywhy. This isn't fair. He's involved in a war between himself. He starts to feel more and more angry and stressed as he leans against the stall. This isn't how life in high school is supposed to be. You aren't supposed to be stuck inside yourself the whole time. 

Nothing in his life seems that bad except this. 

"Ryan?" Brendon knocks against the stall, "can I come in?" 

Ryan unlocks the door and stares at Brendon; existing the stall and washing out his mouth. "Are you sick?"

"U-um." Ryan takes a breath. "Yeah. I think I'm going to go home." 

"Maybe I should drive you home? I don't want to be here either. My mom could call the both of us out or something and we could head back to my house." 

"I think I should just be by myself,"

"I don't though. You may be good at pre calculus but I'm good at this."

"Good at what?"

"Being hospitable. Let's go." 

The whole walk to Brendon's car Ryan's head is spinning. His legs are shaking and his mouth is dry making him just curl up in the passages seat. "I think you could use a nap. A blanket, glass of water, and a nap." 

"Why are you doing this?" Ryan's skin feels numb against the seat.

"I... Uh, care about you. Duh."

"That's the first." Brendon looks at Ryan halfheartedly until he needs to pay attention to the road. Ryan just shuts his eyes until he feels himself drifting into unconsciousness. 

"Uh, Ryan?" Brendon swallows. The silent boy just sleeps. His body just shut down out of exhaustion. Ryan never really sleeps. 

Brendon pulls into his driveway, his mom claiming she had to head back to work. Once the car is parked he contemplates on how to pick up Ryan. Throwing him over his shouldn't wouldn't work in the first place, dragging is down right cruel so he goes for wedding style. 

Once Ryan is in his arms he really realizes just how small Ryan is. He is an inch or two taller than him but weighs probably a few pounds less. His skin is hot, but not clammy. Brendon assumes Ryan is just sick. 

After the challenge of getting into the house Brendon lays Ryan on his bed, throwing a blanket on him. He can't help but watch him for a moment- as creepy as that sounds. Hell, he looks like shit in reality. Brendon has never noticed; focusing on his eyes and mouth and he admits to checking out his ass once or twice. But the way Ryan walks, it's like he knows he has a great body and it's not even intentional. Ryan curls into the blanket and let's out a deep breath. Brendon wonders what it's like being right there with him, holding him and sharing each other's warmth. Instead of doing that and creeping the shit out of Ryan he decides to go downstairs. 

-

Ryan jumps in the bed when he wakes up, confused to where he is until he sees Brendon walking in with a water and sitting on the end of the bed haphazardly. "You're sick, aren't you?" 

"No." Ryan takes the water and holds it in his hands. He wonders what Brendon thinks of him.

"You threw up and basically passed out." 

"I can recall." Ryan replies blandly.   

"Well are you still tired?" 

"I don't want to sleep anymore." 

Brendon nods and crawls over, sitting next to Ryan. 

"You still should sleep. How 'bout I turn on a movie? Princess Diaries?" Ryan's lips barely make a smile as Brendon turns it on. His eyelids still feel so heavy but he knows if he falls asleep he will feel like shit once he wakes up. Not that he doesn't already. He moves closer to Brendon and curls up to his side, just because he wants to. Brendon wraps an arm around him and huddles even closer. Their breathing both slows over time until they both drift to sleep. Ryan if fine with not moving for a while.

-

"I- um- sorry. I'm sorry. I going to go." Ryan rushes, looking at Brendon who just looks up to him with honest eyes. 

"It's not a problem, Ryan. I... Liked it." Brendon realizes Ryan never found out he was gay, and he wonders if this is an acceptable time. "I- I like you."

"Yeah, except for the fact I am a fag." Ryan feels tears well up into his eyes. He doesn't know why. Why is he so weak?

"Have you ever consider I'm one too?" Brendon stays seated on the bed, picking at his thumbs.

"You- you. Oh," 

"I don't care." Brendon swallows.

"I'll just see you... In math." Ryan is overwhelmed and attempts to walk home, not knowing exactly how to get there. He's alone, at least.

That's how it's supposed to be.

-

Ryan doesn't know what to do. It's all about his anxiety and the pills he avoids. He knows if he takes one it will quickly turn into fifteen. He's beat. 

He sits in the bed, arms wrapped around himself. His thoughts wander until they begin basically traumatizing him until he begins shaking. Ryan just doesn't know.

He doesn't sleep for the rest of the night until he dozes off at four and wakes up around five. After that he walks around his empty house in silence, even his mind is quiet at this hour. 

He doesn't have to even go to school, it being Saturday. He should be calm, relaxing, sleeping. Anything. 

Instead he just sits on his bed again, the same spot as last night. 

His phone rings, him jumping from the noise. Who calls at six AM?

Brendon Urie. 

He doesn't pick up. 

Fifteen minutes of Ryan shaking the phone rings again. 

Brendon Urie.

Five minutes later.

Brendon Urie.

"Oh my fucking god, why." Ryan chokes out half angrily.

"I was wondering if you were okay, I mean you were sick yesterday..."

"I'm f-f-fine." 

"Oh. Wanna hang out or something later, then?" 

Ryan doesn't even contemplate it. He knows Brendon would leave him anyway, why try? "No."

"Okay, sorry for being nice."

"Apology accepted." Ryan hangs up and curls into the pillow, trying to even his breathing. He feels dead. Like his whole body is numb from whatever the fuck messed him up. He doesn't remember what.

He hears a knock on the door about twenty minutes later and hurries to the door. Well, he can only move so fast lately. 

Brendon stands there with a box in his arms. "I got you some food." He states awkwardly, inviting himself into the otherwise empty house. Ryan stands there frozen. "Well?" 

"Uh," 

"Let's eat them." 

Brendon opens the box to reveal a dozen donuts as Ryan walks into the kitchen. Ryan doesn't have a lot of food. 

He takes a donut after Brendon does, picking at it in silence. "What's wrong?" Brendon finally asks.

"Nothin'," He lies. 

"You look really tired still. Did you sleep any more?"

"Yeah,"

"... How long?"

Ryan frowns. "Why are you doing this? You're acting like a babysitter or something. I don't need you." The words echo through his head. 

"I'm acting like a friend who wants their friend to be-"

"What do you want me to be? Okay? You want me to be fine? 'Cause I'm not and I'm not sure if I ever will be." Ryan drops the donut and stares at his hands. "I'm sorry- I just- I'm not good with people. I'm alone. I'm supposed to be alone."

"Nobody is supposed to be alone." Brendon mumbles. "What about your parents?"

"I live alone. They moved and I stayed." 

That makes Brendon and Ryan go quiet for a while. Ryan likes living without his parents. He still gets a weekly allowance and fees paid anyway. They just don't need to be with him.

Brendon keeps eating his chocolate donut while Ryan just picks at his. Ryan sighs from already being full after only one. "I'll put them over here, they'll stay good for another day, you know." Brendon explains, putting them on the counter. He can't help but to notice the countless bottles of prescriptions remaining untouched. He notices Xanex and a few others. "Wh- aren't you supposed to take these?"

"They make me feel dead. Or more dead than I already feel."

"Xanex would have calmed you down yesterday. Anxiety and stuff." Brendon can ramble on about the drug if he could.  

"How do you know?"

"I take it," Brendon sighs, biting his lower lip. "I can't really... Be me without it." Brendon frowns at the bottle.

"You aren't you when you take it." Ryan snaps. "You're just a different version of yourself." 

"A better version. But that's just me." 

--

A/N I'm not one to make grammar/spelling mistakes. If anything it's just the poor usage of my phone.