Bryan Ryan - A Character Study.
Title: Bryan Ryan - A Character Study.
Author: caiiwinchester
Rating: PG.
Summary: Bryan remembers his past.
Pairing: Mentions of Bryan Ryan/Will Schuester.
Word Count: 1,561.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own these beautiful people, I just mould them to my needs. Oh, expect for the OC's, they're all mine :D
Author's Notes: Basically, I'm part of a Glee RP on Tumblr where I play Bryan Ryan, and there were some vague mentions of Bryan's father and I thought...Hey, I'm gonna run with this. So, here it is.
“Daddy! Please let me come, I wanna go to New York! I’ve never been on an airplane before! Please, please, pleeeeease!” Even at six years old, Bryan Ryan knew how to get what he wanted. He’d pouted and tugged on the leg of his Father’s trousers and even threatened to cry at one point. It had all worked out for the best though because the very next day, Bryan was excitedly sat on a plane to New York, his Mother and Father sat either side of him; he hadn’t wanted the window seat, just in case he got scared.
He’d fallen asleep by the time they’d touched down in NYC and didn’t wake until they were in their hotel room, at which point he’d ran straight to the window, gasping loudly as his eyes took in the beautiful skyline. “Momma, look! It’s so pretty…” She smiled fondly and moved over to the window to stand next to him, her fingers absent-mindedly playing with the soft hair on the top of his head. “It certainly is, don’t you think, James?” She turned her head to look at her husband, who not long joined them, picking up his son and cuddling him close, sliding his free arm around his wife as the three of them just gazed out of the window. “…Daddy?” “Yeah, Bry?” “I love you, Daddy. And you Mommy.”
The rest of the weekend had pretty much flown by, sightseeing taking up most of their time, but as they walked past a theatre on the way back to their hotel, Bryan had stopped suddenly and tugged on his Father’s hand. “Daddy, I wanna see this.” He had no idea what it was, but the flashing lights and the image of the two men in top hats and holding canes had just intrigued him so much that he wanted - nay, needed - to see just what it was about. He watched intently as his Father checked his watch and then the sign outside the theatre, proclaiming the times of the show. “Well…We’ve got time to spare, I don’t see why not.” “YAY!” Bryan hugged his Father’s legs before running inside. His Father chuckled, slipping his hand into his wife’s and leading her inside.
Bryan was barely able to sit still through the duration of the play, bouncing on the edge of his seat, his eyes darting back and forth as he watched each musical number, listened to each musical note. He was barely able to keep the smile off his lips, swinging his legs absent-mindedly in somewhat of an effort to dance along, knowing that he couldn’t actually stand up and dance to the music, no matter how much he wanted to. It was then, on his last night in New York City, that he realised he wanted to be up on the stage one day, singing and dancing in amongst the bright lights and beautiful costumes.
They’d taken a picture of the three of them on the way back to the hotel. His Father had held the camera out at arms length in front of them. “Say cheese!” “Cheeeese!” Just as the flash went off, Bryan had reached up and pushed his Father and Mother’s faces together in a kiss, a cheeky smile in place on his lips. “Happy Anniversary!” He laughed.
- - - - - - - -
Bryan Ryan hadn’t been there when his Father had died a few months later. He’d been brought home from school early to find his Mother crying and his Auntie Laura comforting her. At seven years old, he had no idea what the Hell was going on, only that it was something bad and he didn’t like it. “…Mommy?” His voice wavered, betraying that he was almost close to tears himself. “…Mommy, why’re you sad?” “Um…” He watched her wipe quickly at her eyes before turning to him. “…It’s Daddy.” Bryan turned his head to look behind him, expecting to see his Father in the doorway, but it was still closed from where he’d just came in. When he turned back to look at her she was kneeling in front of him and took hold of his hands, giving them a little squeeze. “Sweetie…Daddy’s gone to Heaven…”
A couple of days later, he’d been dressed up in his best suit and made to go to church, where there were a lot of crying people and he didn’t really understand why because he certainly didn’t feel like crying. He just wanted to go home and play with his toys, because his suit was uncomfortable and he didn’t like the way his tie felt around his neck. He’d tried loosening it a little but that had only tightened the knot and he frowned to himself. His Mother had gone to the front of the church and talking about his Father for a little while, and more people cried. When she’d finally sat down, the priest had said something about ashes and dust and just as the coffin at the front of the church had begun to move, Bryan had spotted the picture resting on top of it, the one of him, his Mother and Father in New York. “No!” He got up from his seat and ran as fast as he could to the front of the church, jumping to grab the picture before it would be gone for ever. “No, you can’t have this!” He hugged the picture tightly to his chest, unshed tears filling his eyes now. “Daddy gave it to me, not you! NOT ANY OF YOU!”
When they got home that night, he’d sat with his Mother by the fire and they’d talked about his Father. They talked for hours about endless memories and New York and what was going to happen next. His Mother had suggested moving away but Bryan hadn’t wanted to. He needed this house, because he didn’t want to get older and forget his Father. He just couldn’t move away. Not ever.
- - - - - - - -
Will’s apartment was empty apart from Bryan, the other man out at work. The majority of Bryan’s stuff was pretty much unpacked from when he’d moved back in after their break-up, all apart from one cardboard box. The black Sharpie scrawl on it declared that it was filled with ‘Memories’. He didn’t want to open it, not really. It had been untouched when he’d first moved in with Will, and he was still somewhat hesitant to look inside even now.
He sat himself cross-legged on the floor, having dragged the box out of the bottom of the wardrobe. If he was going to do this, he needed to do it alone, so he’d made sure to wait until he knew Will would be out for a few hours; a work day was pretty much perfect. He picked up the penknife he’d found in one of the kitchen drawers and held it over the box, near to the duct tape that was keeping it closed. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, before slicing through the duct tape and pulling back the flaps of the box.
Most of what was inside were silly little things. His high school yearbook from his last year, a couple of comic books that he’d had since he was five, polaroids that he’d taken with an ex-girlfriend of his that he’d met on the cruise ship circuit - he could laugh at those now, whereas before they’d have him filled with regret - and other assorted things like that. None of it really seemed to have any important value to him, just silly little mementos that people usually liked to keep when they wanted to reminisce. He was about to close the box and put it back into the wardrobe for storage, when he noticed the corner of a photo frame poking out from under a drawing of a dinosaur he’d drawn when he was three. He pulled it out, and his face fell.
The picture in the frame was the one taken in New York all those years ago, mere months before his Father had died. “Happy Anniversary!” rang through his head, along with a child’s laugh, his own laugh. It seemed to long ago, almost like it was in another time, like it wasn’t quite his life. He dropped the picture frame back into the box, covering his face with his hand as his shoulders began to shake, muted sobs wracking his body. It wasn’t fair. His Father would never get to meet his Grandchildren, wouldn’t be there on Bryan’s wedding day. There were so many memories he’d missed out on, so many Christmases and Birthdays where he’d snuck off to cry to himself in his room after opening his presents. He swallowed heavily, wiping furiously at his eyes, angry with himself for being so damn emotional. He let his head fall back onto the bed behind him, eyes sliding shut and a sigh passing his lips.
“…I miss you, Dad.”
Author: caiiwinchester
Rating: PG.
Summary: Bryan remembers his past.
Pairing: Mentions of Bryan Ryan/Will Schuester.
Word Count: 1,561.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own these beautiful people, I just mould them to my needs. Oh, expect for the OC's, they're all mine :D
Author's Notes: Basically, I'm part of a Glee RP on Tumblr where I play Bryan Ryan, and there were some vague mentions of Bryan's father and I thought...Hey, I'm gonna run with this. So, here it is.
“Daddy! Please let me come, I wanna go to New York! I’ve never been on an airplane before! Please, please, pleeeeease!” Even at six years old, Bryan Ryan knew how to get what he wanted. He’d pouted and tugged on the leg of his Father’s trousers and even threatened to cry at one point. It had all worked out for the best though because the very next day, Bryan was excitedly sat on a plane to New York, his Mother and Father sat either side of him; he hadn’t wanted the window seat, just in case he got scared.
He’d fallen asleep by the time they’d touched down in NYC and didn’t wake until they were in their hotel room, at which point he’d ran straight to the window, gasping loudly as his eyes took in the beautiful skyline. “Momma, look! It’s so pretty…” She smiled fondly and moved over to the window to stand next to him, her fingers absent-mindedly playing with the soft hair on the top of his head. “It certainly is, don’t you think, James?” She turned her head to look at her husband, who not long joined them, picking up his son and cuddling him close, sliding his free arm around his wife as the three of them just gazed out of the window. “…Daddy?” “Yeah, Bry?” “I love you, Daddy. And you Mommy.”
The rest of the weekend had pretty much flown by, sightseeing taking up most of their time, but as they walked past a theatre on the way back to their hotel, Bryan had stopped suddenly and tugged on his Father’s hand. “Daddy, I wanna see this.” He had no idea what it was, but the flashing lights and the image of the two men in top hats and holding canes had just intrigued him so much that he wanted - nay, needed - to see just what it was about. He watched intently as his Father checked his watch and then the sign outside the theatre, proclaiming the times of the show. “Well…We’ve got time to spare, I don’t see why not.” “YAY!” Bryan hugged his Father’s legs before running inside. His Father chuckled, slipping his hand into his wife’s and leading her inside.
Bryan was barely able to sit still through the duration of the play, bouncing on the edge of his seat, his eyes darting back and forth as he watched each musical number, listened to each musical note. He was barely able to keep the smile off his lips, swinging his legs absent-mindedly in somewhat of an effort to dance along, knowing that he couldn’t actually stand up and dance to the music, no matter how much he wanted to. It was then, on his last night in New York City, that he realised he wanted to be up on the stage one day, singing and dancing in amongst the bright lights and beautiful costumes.
They’d taken a picture of the three of them on the way back to the hotel. His Father had held the camera out at arms length in front of them. “Say cheese!” “Cheeeese!” Just as the flash went off, Bryan had reached up and pushed his Father and Mother’s faces together in a kiss, a cheeky smile in place on his lips. “Happy Anniversary!” He laughed.
- - - - - - - -
Bryan Ryan hadn’t been there when his Father had died a few months later. He’d been brought home from school early to find his Mother crying and his Auntie Laura comforting her. At seven years old, he had no idea what the Hell was going on, only that it was something bad and he didn’t like it. “…Mommy?” His voice wavered, betraying that he was almost close to tears himself. “…Mommy, why’re you sad?” “Um…” He watched her wipe quickly at her eyes before turning to him. “…It’s Daddy.” Bryan turned his head to look behind him, expecting to see his Father in the doorway, but it was still closed from where he’d just came in. When he turned back to look at her she was kneeling in front of him and took hold of his hands, giving them a little squeeze. “Sweetie…Daddy’s gone to Heaven…”
A couple of days later, he’d been dressed up in his best suit and made to go to church, where there were a lot of crying people and he didn’t really understand why because he certainly didn’t feel like crying. He just wanted to go home and play with his toys, because his suit was uncomfortable and he didn’t like the way his tie felt around his neck. He’d tried loosening it a little but that had only tightened the knot and he frowned to himself. His Mother had gone to the front of the church and talking about his Father for a little while, and more people cried. When she’d finally sat down, the priest had said something about ashes and dust and just as the coffin at the front of the church had begun to move, Bryan had spotted the picture resting on top of it, the one of him, his Mother and Father in New York. “No!” He got up from his seat and ran as fast as he could to the front of the church, jumping to grab the picture before it would be gone for ever. “No, you can’t have this!” He hugged the picture tightly to his chest, unshed tears filling his eyes now. “Daddy gave it to me, not you! NOT ANY OF YOU!”
When they got home that night, he’d sat with his Mother by the fire and they’d talked about his Father. They talked for hours about endless memories and New York and what was going to happen next. His Mother had suggested moving away but Bryan hadn’t wanted to. He needed this house, because he didn’t want to get older and forget his Father. He just couldn’t move away. Not ever.
- - - - - - - -
Will’s apartment was empty apart from Bryan, the other man out at work. The majority of Bryan’s stuff was pretty much unpacked from when he’d moved back in after their break-up, all apart from one cardboard box. The black Sharpie scrawl on it declared that it was filled with ‘Memories’. He didn’t want to open it, not really. It had been untouched when he’d first moved in with Will, and he was still somewhat hesitant to look inside even now.
He sat himself cross-legged on the floor, having dragged the box out of the bottom of the wardrobe. If he was going to do this, he needed to do it alone, so he’d made sure to wait until he knew Will would be out for a few hours; a work day was pretty much perfect. He picked up the penknife he’d found in one of the kitchen drawers and held it over the box, near to the duct tape that was keeping it closed. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, before slicing through the duct tape and pulling back the flaps of the box.
Most of what was inside were silly little things. His high school yearbook from his last year, a couple of comic books that he’d had since he was five, polaroids that he’d taken with an ex-girlfriend of his that he’d met on the cruise ship circuit - he could laugh at those now, whereas before they’d have him filled with regret - and other assorted things like that. None of it really seemed to have any important value to him, just silly little mementos that people usually liked to keep when they wanted to reminisce. He was about to close the box and put it back into the wardrobe for storage, when he noticed the corner of a photo frame poking out from under a drawing of a dinosaur he’d drawn when he was three. He pulled it out, and his face fell.
The picture in the frame was the one taken in New York all those years ago, mere months before his Father had died. “Happy Anniversary!” rang through his head, along with a child’s laugh, his own laugh. It seemed to long ago, almost like it was in another time, like it wasn’t quite his life. He dropped the picture frame back into the box, covering his face with his hand as his shoulders began to shake, muted sobs wracking his body. It wasn’t fair. His Father would never get to meet his Grandchildren, wouldn’t be there on Bryan’s wedding day. There were so many memories he’d missed out on, so many Christmases and Birthdays where he’d snuck off to cry to himself in his room after opening his presents. He swallowed heavily, wiping furiously at his eyes, angry with himself for being so damn emotional. He let his head fall back onto the bed behind him, eyes sliding shut and a sigh passing his lips.
“…I miss you, Dad.”