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I turned my head slowly, looking into Brendon’s eyes. His mouth was slightly open, and I could tell he was kicking himself.

“Brendon. What’s happening?” Spencer asked.

Brendon’s eyes stayed locked on mine. He shook his head slightly, eyes wide staring at me, silently communicating his apology. I smiled softly, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Spencer…” Brendon’s voice broke as he finally tore his eyes away from mine, and looked up at Spencer, his eyes still wide and fearful. “I’m in love with him.”

Spencer stayed silent, and I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for his response.

“And… Ryan? Ryan loves you?”

“I do, Spencer.” I whispered, turning to look at him.

Jon was kneeling on the front seat, looking back at us, eyes wide, mouth open. Spencer just looked confused, and slightly hurt.

“How… how long?” Spencer choked out, looking between us.

“Let’s talk about this later, Spence.” Brendon suggested when he noticed my eyes filling with tears.

Spencer fell silent, and looked out the window. I was thankful that he hadn’t moved his arm from around me; a simple reminder that we were going to be okay. Brendon squeezed my hand with both of his, not daring to make any more obvious gestures.

It seemed to take hours of silence in the car before we got to the hospital. By then, I was practically holding my breath, only breathing when I absolutely had to, because it hurt so badly. Brendon’s thumbs rubbed across my knuckles, attempting to soothe and distract me.

When we finally arrived in front of the glowing white doors, Brendon helped me out of the car. Spencer stood on the other side of me, pulling my arm around his shoulders so I didn’t put so much pressure on my ankle. I sat down in the first available seat, and Brendon went to pick up the paperwork.

I let out a long breath that I’d been holding since leaving the car, and leaned over onto Spencer, nuzzling my head into his chest, forcing myself to breathe regularly, hoping that his familiar scent that I’d known since childhood would help to calm my rapid heartbeat. Spencer’s hand automatically went to the back of my head, stroking my hair softly. After a few minutes, Brendon sat back down next to us, filling out all of my information on the forms. When he’d finished, he balanced the clipboard on his crossed legs, and set his hand gently on my side, eyes firmly fixed on the opposite wall.

They finally called my name, and brought out a wheelchair for me. Brendon and Spencer were instructed to wait as they took me into triage. They took all my vitals, asked if Brendon or Spencer had done this to me, how it had happened, and how much pain I was in. They finally took me to long line of beds with curtains between them. The nurse pushed the wheelchair past the first three beds, which were occupied, to the fourth. She helped me onto the bed, then pushed the wheelchair out of the way.

“I’ll go get your friends to keep you company until the doctor comes by.” She smiled at me.

I nodded, and she walked back the way we’d come. I closed my eyes and leaned back on the pillow, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to ignore the stabbing pain with each movement of my chest.

After a moment, I heard soft footsteps, and then felt a cool hand on my forehead. I opened my eyes, and looked up at Brendon, who was frowning down at me, pushing my hair out of my face. Brendon was right behind him, looking down at me sympathetically.

“Have they said anything yet?” Spencer asked.

“No.” I groaned, trying to sit up. “The nurse said that the doctor would come by to check on me in a little bit.”

Spencer nodded, and looked away, sitting down in one of the chairs next to the bed. Brendon stayed at my side, gently stroking my hair. I smiled up at him, and he smiled back, though it didn’t touch his eyes.

“Do you need anything?” Brendon asked softly.

“I’m a little thirsty.” I said, knowing that he’d immediately go get me something and give me a minute with Spencer.

“I’ll see if I can find you some water.” Brendon kissed my forehead, squeezed my hand, and walked swiftly away from the bed.

“Spencer?” I whispered after Brendon’s footsteps had faded. Spencer looked up at me. “Will you come here?” I asked softly. Spencer rose to his feet, and walked up to where Brendon had been, taking my hand. “You’re not mad at me, are you?” I asked him, looking up into his baby blue eyes.

“I’m not mad, Ry.” Spencer said. “I’m happy for you. You’ve been with such awful people for such a long time… I’ve been really worried about you, you know? But then this, and… I just wish you’d told me.” Spencer finally met my eyes.

“I wish I had, too.” I squeezed his hand. “After all this time with you standing by me, I’m still always terrified to disappoint you.”

“Obviously, I think Brendon is a good guy.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know that he was… playing on your team, though.” Spencer smirked.

I laughed, then groaned, raising my free hand to my stomach.

“We’re going to be okay, right?” I looked back up at Spencer once the pain had subsided.

“Of course.” Spencer smiled down at me. “We always are.”

“Hug me.” I instructed childishly, reaching my arms out. He smiled, and leaned down, giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze. Spencer scooted his chair closer, and sat down next to me.

“So… you love him, huh?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah.” I smiled wistfully. “I love him.” I looked down at Spencer’s soft smile. “I’m pretty sure he’s perfect.”

Spencer smiled at me, and I sighed happily, smiling at nothing in particular.

“I really am happy for you.” Spencer squeezed my hand. “But I have to admit, Ry, I’m worried about what this will do to the band.”

I frowned at Spencer, and he leaned forward.

“Ryan, once you’re out of the hospital, we’re all going to need to talk about this and what it means… I think you and Brendon are going to need to talk about where you stand on this.”

“We will.” I nodded. I decided not to tell Spencer that Brendon and I had already had that conversation.

Brendon came back just then, and handed me a foam cup of ice chips.

“Thank you.” I murmured to him, lifting a piece of ice out of the cup and popping it into my mouth.

It was only a few minutes later that the doctor came by. I explained what happened, and he examined my ankle, and then my ribs.

“The ankle doesn’t look bad; I’m guessing a minor sprain.” The doctor said, writing on the clipboard that the nurses had written my vitals on. “Your ribs look pretty bad, though.”

“This is the second rib injury in the past four months.” Spencer interjected.

“I’m going to have both the ankle and your ribs x-rayed.” The doctor said. “Change into this gown, and then just get back into the bed and wait for our technician. I’ll be back once I’ve had the chance to look at the x-rays.”

The doctor handed me the hideous blue and white gown, and left, closing the curtains behind him as he went.

“I’m going to call Pete…” Spencer said, standing up. “Let him know what’s going on.”

Spencer slipped out from between the curtains, leaving Brendon and me alone. Brendon moved to my feet, untying my shoes, then gently pulling them, and my socks off, setting them on the floor next to the bed. He gently helped me to my feet, and helped me pull my jeans off, folding them neatly on the bed. He removed my jacket, my vest, my scarf, and finally my tee shirt. He gasped when he saw the deep purple bruises on my ribs.

“Ryan…” He whispered, his fingers reaching out, but not touching the darkened skin.

“It’s okay.” I smiled at him reassuringly.

Brendon stooped, and let his lips ghost over my skin, making me shiver.

“All better.” He looked up at me and smiled, then helped me into the gown, tying it securely. I got back on the bed, and Brendon opened the curtains. He sat down in Spencer’s vacated seat.

After the x-rays and a long talk with the doctor, I was bandaged, medicated, and sent home. Zack picked the three of us up from the hospital, and took us to the hotel he and Jon had checked in to. As we walked in, I saw Jon and Pete sitting in the lobby, talking. Jon looked uneasy, Pete looked annoyed.

“What’s going on?” Brendon asked, holding both of my hands as I sat down, so I wouldn’t sit down too fast and hurt myself.

“Jon’s stoned.” Pete said, frowning at his fellow bassist. “I think it’s unprofessional.”

“I think that I like to feel good.” Jon shrugged, crossing his legs.

Brendon, Spencer, and I glanced between each other.

“Why don’t we just drop it for now?” Spencer suggested, taking his normal role of peacekeeper. “It’s been a long night… I think we should all just get up to bed.”

“I agree.” Pete said, eyes on Jon.

Jon rolled his eyes, and stood up, walking away towards the elevator on the far end of the lobby. Spencer patted me on the shoulder, then took off after Jon. Zack followed after a curious look at Pete’s stony face.

“What’s wrong?” Brendon asked Pete, giving his shoulder a gentle shake.

“Jon’s been acting different.” Pete said. “There’s no way I’m the only one who’s noticed. It’s interfering with his normal work and attitude. He’s been acting clueless.”

“Jon will be Jon.” Brendon shrugged. “You know how he has all of these weird phases, like with the beard? He’ll probably be over it in three weeks.”

Pete shrugged, finally relaxing.

“How are you feeling?” Pete directed the question at me.

“I don’t remember.” I mumbled.

“He’s on some pretty intense meds.” Brendon informed Pete, who nodded understandingly.

“Let me help you guys up to your room.” Pete said, standing up. He made his way over to me, and helped me to my feet, pulling my arm around his shoulder, and wrapping his securely around my waist. I leaned on him as we made our way across the lobby, suddenly realizing how tired I was.

We got to our room, and Pete handed us our keycards.

“I’m going to stay on the tour with you guys for a week or so.” Pete told us as he half carried me over the threshold. “To help keep everything taken care of while Ryan heals up.”

“You’re the best, Pete.” Brendon hugged him tightly. I nodded in agreement, and Pete laughed.

“Call me if you guys need anything, okay?” Pete said, giving Brendon an extra tight squeeze.

“Thanks, man.” Brendon said. “Can you stay with him while I change?” Brendon asked, and Pete nodded, sitting next to me on the bed. Brendon left the room.

“You need help getting changed?” Pete asked me.

“No.” I denied it childishly.

“You can’t even walk.” He pointed out.

I pouted, and Pete grinned, moving over to my suitcase and extracting a pair of plaid pajama pants and a white tee shirt. Pete helped me change, then got me laying down on the bed, under the blankets.

“Thanks, Pete.” I yawned, stretching, and wincing.

“No problem, Ry.” Pete smiled, adjusting the folded corner of the sheet, smoothing it out.

“Thanks for staying, Pete.” Brendon said, emerging from the bathroom.

Pete smiled, then leaned down to hug me.

“Try to get some rest.” Pete murmured to me. He kissed my shoulder, smiled at me, and left the room, patting Brendon’s shoulder on his way by.

Brendon collapsed onto the bed next to me, eyes closed, his mouth hanging open. He let out a loud, fake snore, then opened his eyes and grinned at me. I smiled back, and he crawled under the blankets, taking my hand before actually falling asleep.

A/N: Hey readers. I don't know if anyone who was following this story last year still cares or not, but here's an update. I'm really sorry it's been so long since I updated (more than a year, wtf Anna?) But I think I'm back! So I'm planning to finish this story, as well as The Ghost Of Brendon's Past. I was coming to the end of both of them last year when I went AWOL, so hopefully I'll be able to get those finished, and then move on the bigger and better things. If you have any suggestions on how I should end this, please review and let me know, because there are so many options, I can't decide. Here's pretty much what I'm looking at:

Option 1: Ryan and Brendon live happily ever after.

Option 2: Someone else (or maybe more than one person) in the story takes this opportunity to take a romantic interest in Ryan and/or Brendon. They break up, but reunite years later and then live happily ever after.

Option 3: It's been a while since I wrote a deathfic, and I kinda feel like killing somebody. Thoughts?

So tell me what you think of these three options, or whatever you think should happen. Because, bro, I am so lost.

If you care, here's why I've been too busy to write: As those of you who read my authors notes, which are sometimes as long as my stories themselves, know, I tend to take really hard classes. Last year, while taking two AP classes, and having the rest of my classes with teachers known for giving out a ton of homework, my dad had a heart attack and a quadruple bypass, which is an open heart surgery. He spent about a month in the hospital, so I was spending most of my time there. Once he got out of the hospital, I joined the Technology Student Association, and started competing with them. If you've never heard of TSA, look it up, and look at the kinds of competitions we do. It's super fun and really challenging and time consuming. Luckily, my favorite teacher is my schools TSA mentor. So right after TSA's competition season was over, my mom got diagnosed with cancer, and she spent the summer going through treatments and surgeries. I started my senior year with four AP classes (Literature, Algebra, Chemistry, and Art), and I always had a ton of homework, plus I'm working about 30 hours a week. Then, in September, my dad kicked me out because I stood up to my stepmom. So I've been living with my mom, who's still recovering from surgery. So for the last semester of my senior year, I decided to take it easy, with just AP Art and Spanish, so I should have a ton more time to write. So, I hope you all enjoyed my life story there, and I'll see you next time I update! Hopefully it'll be soon, but I really don't know what to do next, so who knows? Please r&r, and let me know what you think should happen.

xxAnna