The Art Of Breaking | Rywalk | PG
Title: The Art Of Breaking
Author: Emmy (noahatthedisco)
Rating: PG
POV: 3rd Ryan
Summery: The story of Ryan and Jon tracing their increasingly close friendship from the time they met to the currant era. When Ryan met Jon Walker for the first time he was scampering around frantically trying to find someone to fix his guitar pedal.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these people. The specific events mentioned between Ryan and his father are all my own creation to my knowledge.
A/n: SO! This is a four part Rywalk fic, inspired in part by Jon's near-constant stream of twitter-pics involving on Ryan Ross. Thank you so much to Sophie (minus_four) for beta-ing. <33
When Ryan met Jon Walker for the first time he was scampering around frantically trying to find someone to fix his guitar pedal. It broke during soundcheck, and Ryan's own tech could not be found no matter how many heads Spencer threatened to smash in. In desperation Ryan sought out Tom Conrad, hoping to find someone to help him. Ryan still didn't know The Academy's crew very well, or the band themselves for that matter, but he was desperate.
Tom just grinned at him though, waving over a dark haired young man in jeans and flip flops. "This is Jonny Walker," Tom said, grinning slyly. "He'll fix whatever you need, babe."
Ryan's face flared scarlet, and he was just about to mutter a 'nevermind' and go to try to fix the goddamn thing himself when Jon reached out to grasp Ryan's wrist.
"I'd love to fix your pedal, Ryan," Jon sounded sincere enough and he shot a glared at Tom. Jon followed Ryan over to Panic's gear, striking up a conversation about guitars as he set to work on the pedal. Jon was nice; Ryan had to admit he was surprised. Jon didn't treat Ryan as if he was a stupid kid like most of the people they'd toured with so far.
They kept talking long after the pedal was fixed; Ryan perched on an amp while Jon leaned against the drum riser. Jon was only a year older then he was and he'd been in the Chicago music scene since he bought his first guitar, hopping from band to band.
"So, I like your music," Jon said after a while, following happily behind Ryan as he set off to find the rest of his band. "I've been watching your sets since the tour started. Bill's giving me shit about it, but he can go fuck himself."
Unsure what to say, Ryan smiled awkwardly. "Bill doesn't like us?" The fanboy in Ryan still wanted to impress the older bands; longed for expectance.
"He just doesn't like that you're so young and doing so well. He's fought for this for a while, and he kind of feels like you got it handed to you on a silver platter." Jon shrugged, laughing a little. "Also, you don't drink, so he can't relate to you guys on a rudimentary level."
Ryan scuffed his feet awkwardly. He founded himself trusting Jon for some reason, even though they'd only just met. "My father was an alcoholic," he muttered, not looking up to meet Jon's eyes.
Jon didn't get awkward though, he didn't look at Ryan like he felt bad for him, and he didn't try to relate to him in any way. He just nodded, stuffing hands in his pockets. "I figured. Like I said, I've listened to your music." From that day forward, Ryan would look at this laid back guitar tech from Chicago with a new level of respect usually reserved only for his closest friends (BrendonandSpencer) and Pete.
Jon started spending a lot more time with Ryan and his boys after that. He could sit for hours singing Disney songs with Brendon, he had Spencer's sense of humor, and he could understand the way Ryan worked. It was still hard for Ryan on the nights when Jon would bring Brendon back to the bus drunk, but he tried not to let it bother him too much. He did his best to avoid being present when Brendon came stumbling back onto the bus with Jon's arm around his waist, but he couldn't always manage it.
One night though, after returning Brendon to the bus stumbling drunk and smiling, Jon carefully laid a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Isn't it better he's getting it out of his system now, with people who will look after him? At least he's not out in bars getting trashed with no one to look out for him."
"I'd look out for him, if he'd just ask me to," Ryan said fiercely, and Jon smiled tiredly at him.
"I know you would, Ryan. But he's scared that you'd get angry at him."
"And he thinks this is better?" Ryan asked quietly, defeated, and Jon pulled him into a hug. Ryan just melted into it, taking the comfort Jon was offering.
"I won't let him get hurt," Jon promised quietly as he pulled back, and Ryan believed him. Jon watched him quietly for a minute before saying hesitantly. "I wouldn't let you get hurt either... if you wanted to try. Not with The Academy, I mean, but like... you, me, Spence and Bren. We'd look after you."
Something squirmed uncomfortably in the pit of Ryan's stomach at the idea of drinking, but knew Jon just meant the best. "Thanks for the offer," he answered, trying to sound sincere, and Jon nodded in understanding. Ryan stood in the middle of the bus for a long time after Jon left, trying to compose himself.
When Brent stopped showing up to practice, Jon was the first one they called. Ryan had a hard time with it, a lot of his old insecurities showing up again, things he thought he'd gotten over. He clung to Brendon and Spencer, terrified that they'd leave him too, and Jon just... let him. He'd always give them space, make himself scarce if he thought they needed time alone, but Ryan found he didn't want that. He found himself clinging to Jon as well.
Barely three weeks after Jon signed the papers saying they could keep him forever, Ryan got a call. It was numbing, to think that his father was dead. They'd never had a very good relationship, and it had only gotten worse as Ryan got older, but he thought that they'd been starting to fix things. He'd wanted to. He'd watched Brendon fix the rift between his own family, and he thought maybe... But then the chance was gone.
Spencer, of course, tried to protect him. He tried to shelter Ryan, keep him safe from the world. Ryan appreciated it, he really did, but he felt trapped. Brendon tried to help Ryan in the only way he knew how, with lots of hugs and candy and affection, and Ryan loved him for it, but he felt smothered. It was that which lead him to knock on Jon's hotel room door at twelve in the morning, tired eyed and pyjama clad.
Jon looked worried when he let Ryan in but he didn't say anything, just smiled that slow smile that Ryan associated with late nights on the bus spent playing guitar until their fingers hurt.
"There's some Law & Order reruns on," Jon suggested, nodding towards the TV. Ryan's chest clenched in gratitude because Jon got it.
They sat next to each other on the bed, and Jon didn't try to make him talk or try to pull him into a hug. Ryan just tentatively rested his head against Jon's shoulder, and Jon rested his hand on Ryan's arm. It was enough. It was enough contact to keep Ryan grounded, and enough space so he didn't feel like he was drowning.
Three hours later and Jon was still awake, though just barely, but Ryan had long since lost the plot of whatever show they were watching. His thoughts were set on a loop, chasing around his head in self destructive patterns. He didn't even notice his breathing had become erratic until Jon's hand tightened on his wrist. "Hey Ryan, hey."
"I didn't... I didn't try hard enough. I could have, I mean," Ryan spluttered. He was shaking and Jon turned towards him, pulling him into a hug. He melted into it this time, feeling nothing but relief at the closeness and Jon's familiar scent.
"Don't blame this on yourself, Ry. Don't you dare."
"I thought I'd be able to fix things. I mean..." Ryan's eyes stung and he blinked back tears. He would not cry. "There's so much shit between us, but I was trying to forgive him..."
Jon didn't say anything, just pulled him closer. Taking a deep breath, Ryan squeezed Jon tightly before pulling back. He felt the sudden need to talk, and Jon would listen.
"When I was thirteen, there was this girl I really liked. I'd finally gotten up the courage to ask her to come over and hang out. It was just kids stuff, we just hung out and play Nintendo and shit. But... it was fun, and I felt... Grown up. Happy. Then he came home and he was drunk... like, really, really drunk, worse then it usually was. And he got really pissed at me over something, I don't even remember what. But he just... beat the shit out of me," Ryan laughed a little, desperate, and Jon reached out to touch his face. Ryan leaned into it. "With her standing right there, he just... hit me and hit me. She never spoke to me again."
"Ryan, I don't even..." Jon started, but Ryan shook his head.
"Don't try to say anything, there isn't anything to say. I'm just that fucked up." Biting his lip, Ryan looked down at his hands. He'd never even told Spencer about that, too embarrassed and hurt by the memory.
Jon just sighed. "Ryan. You've got all this shit in you, and it's tearing you apart. Just... tell me. I won't judge you; I'm not going to think you're weak. I won't even say anything if you don't want me to. But I really, really do want to listen."
Maybe Jon really did understand. They ended up lying down on their sides facing each other, and Ryan just talked. He'd never, ever opened up so much to someone; never let so much of himself be exposed. He felt safe though, the way Jon listened, just watched him without pity or judgement, and it made him feel secure. Strong enough to break. And when he started crying, Jon just wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
Ryan woke up the next day curled up with Jon stretched out along his back, and Jon's arm warm and protective around his stomach. Ryan felt incredibly safe like that, and it scared him. It wasn't a kind of safe he was used to feeling. Ryan was used to safe meaning that there was someone to look out for him, Spencer or Pete or Zack. Jon made Ryan feel like he could look out for himself. He felt stronger than he ever had before, waking up next to Jon Walker, and he was terrified by it.
He must have stiffened, reacted someway that jolted Jon to life, because he could feel the older man moving behind him. Carefully, Ryan rolled over so he could see Jon's eyes when they blinked open. It was kind of fascinating, Ryan thought, the way recognition showed on Jon's face, a smile starting in his eyes and spreading outward as he focused on Ryan.
"Hey you," Jon said sleepily, gently cuffing Ryan's ear.
Ryan could help but grin back. "Good morning." Jon nodded absently, stretching sleepily. "So I was thinking that I could go out drinking with you," Ryan said in a rush, biting his lip as soon as the words were out.
Jon blinked in confusion. "Now? It's eight in the morning, Ry."
Ryan laughed, tension leaking out of his body. "Not now, assfuck. Just like... sometimes. I don't know, next time you and Brendon go or whatever. Like you said a while ago."
Jon was awake now, enough to process what Ryan was asking for. "I told you we'd take care of you."
Ryan just nodded, knowing he'd need all three of them with him at the beginning. And they would protect him, his boys always would. "Don't let me be like him," Ryan whispered, and it felt more personal than any secret he's shared the night before.
Jon looked sad, suddenly, and Ryan was taken aback by it. He dropped his eyes to the bed, embarrassed, but Jon's hand came out to lift his face.
"You won't be like him," Jon said with conviction. "You couldn't be, because it scares you so much. Ryan, you're... you're the gentlest person I've ever met, and I mean that in a totally good way. You won't even kill a spider - and I know; I've killed them for you." Ryan laughed softly, and Jon smiled. "You'll be okay."
Ryan believed him.
Author: Emmy (noahatthedisco)
Rating: PG
POV: 3rd Ryan
Summery: The story of Ryan and Jon tracing their increasingly close friendship from the time they met to the currant era. When Ryan met Jon Walker for the first time he was scampering around frantically trying to find someone to fix his guitar pedal.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these people. The specific events mentioned between Ryan and his father are all my own creation to my knowledge.
A/n: SO! This is a four part Rywalk fic, inspired in part by Jon's near-constant stream of twitter-pics involving on Ryan Ross. Thank you so much to Sophie (minus_four) for beta-ing. <33
When Ryan met Jon Walker for the first time he was scampering around frantically trying to find someone to fix his guitar pedal. It broke during soundcheck, and Ryan's own tech could not be found no matter how many heads Spencer threatened to smash in. In desperation Ryan sought out Tom Conrad, hoping to find someone to help him. Ryan still didn't know The Academy's crew very well, or the band themselves for that matter, but he was desperate.
Tom just grinned at him though, waving over a dark haired young man in jeans and flip flops. "This is Jonny Walker," Tom said, grinning slyly. "He'll fix whatever you need, babe."
Ryan's face flared scarlet, and he was just about to mutter a 'nevermind' and go to try to fix the goddamn thing himself when Jon reached out to grasp Ryan's wrist.
"I'd love to fix your pedal, Ryan," Jon sounded sincere enough and he shot a glared at Tom. Jon followed Ryan over to Panic's gear, striking up a conversation about guitars as he set to work on the pedal. Jon was nice; Ryan had to admit he was surprised. Jon didn't treat Ryan as if he was a stupid kid like most of the people they'd toured with so far.
They kept talking long after the pedal was fixed; Ryan perched on an amp while Jon leaned against the drum riser. Jon was only a year older then he was and he'd been in the Chicago music scene since he bought his first guitar, hopping from band to band.
"So, I like your music," Jon said after a while, following happily behind Ryan as he set off to find the rest of his band. "I've been watching your sets since the tour started. Bill's giving me shit about it, but he can go fuck himself."
Unsure what to say, Ryan smiled awkwardly. "Bill doesn't like us?" The fanboy in Ryan still wanted to impress the older bands; longed for expectance.
"He just doesn't like that you're so young and doing so well. He's fought for this for a while, and he kind of feels like you got it handed to you on a silver platter." Jon shrugged, laughing a little. "Also, you don't drink, so he can't relate to you guys on a rudimentary level."
Ryan scuffed his feet awkwardly. He founded himself trusting Jon for some reason, even though they'd only just met. "My father was an alcoholic," he muttered, not looking up to meet Jon's eyes.
Jon didn't get awkward though, he didn't look at Ryan like he felt bad for him, and he didn't try to relate to him in any way. He just nodded, stuffing hands in his pockets. "I figured. Like I said, I've listened to your music." From that day forward, Ryan would look at this laid back guitar tech from Chicago with a new level of respect usually reserved only for his closest friends (BrendonandSpencer) and Pete.
Jon started spending a lot more time with Ryan and his boys after that. He could sit for hours singing Disney songs with Brendon, he had Spencer's sense of humor, and he could understand the way Ryan worked. It was still hard for Ryan on the nights when Jon would bring Brendon back to the bus drunk, but he tried not to let it bother him too much. He did his best to avoid being present when Brendon came stumbling back onto the bus with Jon's arm around his waist, but he couldn't always manage it.
One night though, after returning Brendon to the bus stumbling drunk and smiling, Jon carefully laid a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Isn't it better he's getting it out of his system now, with people who will look after him? At least he's not out in bars getting trashed with no one to look out for him."
"I'd look out for him, if he'd just ask me to," Ryan said fiercely, and Jon smiled tiredly at him.
"I know you would, Ryan. But he's scared that you'd get angry at him."
"And he thinks this is better?" Ryan asked quietly, defeated, and Jon pulled him into a hug. Ryan just melted into it, taking the comfort Jon was offering.
"I won't let him get hurt," Jon promised quietly as he pulled back, and Ryan believed him. Jon watched him quietly for a minute before saying hesitantly. "I wouldn't let you get hurt either... if you wanted to try. Not with The Academy, I mean, but like... you, me, Spence and Bren. We'd look after you."
Something squirmed uncomfortably in the pit of Ryan's stomach at the idea of drinking, but knew Jon just meant the best. "Thanks for the offer," he answered, trying to sound sincere, and Jon nodded in understanding. Ryan stood in the middle of the bus for a long time after Jon left, trying to compose himself.
When Brent stopped showing up to practice, Jon was the first one they called. Ryan had a hard time with it, a lot of his old insecurities showing up again, things he thought he'd gotten over. He clung to Brendon and Spencer, terrified that they'd leave him too, and Jon just... let him. He'd always give them space, make himself scarce if he thought they needed time alone, but Ryan found he didn't want that. He found himself clinging to Jon as well.
Barely three weeks after Jon signed the papers saying they could keep him forever, Ryan got a call. It was numbing, to think that his father was dead. They'd never had a very good relationship, and it had only gotten worse as Ryan got older, but he thought that they'd been starting to fix things. He'd wanted to. He'd watched Brendon fix the rift between his own family, and he thought maybe... But then the chance was gone.
Spencer, of course, tried to protect him. He tried to shelter Ryan, keep him safe from the world. Ryan appreciated it, he really did, but he felt trapped. Brendon tried to help Ryan in the only way he knew how, with lots of hugs and candy and affection, and Ryan loved him for it, but he felt smothered. It was that which lead him to knock on Jon's hotel room door at twelve in the morning, tired eyed and pyjama clad.
Jon looked worried when he let Ryan in but he didn't say anything, just smiled that slow smile that Ryan associated with late nights on the bus spent playing guitar until their fingers hurt.
"There's some Law & Order reruns on," Jon suggested, nodding towards the TV. Ryan's chest clenched in gratitude because Jon got it.
They sat next to each other on the bed, and Jon didn't try to make him talk or try to pull him into a hug. Ryan just tentatively rested his head against Jon's shoulder, and Jon rested his hand on Ryan's arm. It was enough. It was enough contact to keep Ryan grounded, and enough space so he didn't feel like he was drowning.
Three hours later and Jon was still awake, though just barely, but Ryan had long since lost the plot of whatever show they were watching. His thoughts were set on a loop, chasing around his head in self destructive patterns. He didn't even notice his breathing had become erratic until Jon's hand tightened on his wrist. "Hey Ryan, hey."
"I didn't... I didn't try hard enough. I could have, I mean," Ryan spluttered. He was shaking and Jon turned towards him, pulling him into a hug. He melted into it this time, feeling nothing but relief at the closeness and Jon's familiar scent.
"Don't blame this on yourself, Ry. Don't you dare."
"I thought I'd be able to fix things. I mean..." Ryan's eyes stung and he blinked back tears. He would not cry. "There's so much shit between us, but I was trying to forgive him..."
Jon didn't say anything, just pulled him closer. Taking a deep breath, Ryan squeezed Jon tightly before pulling back. He felt the sudden need to talk, and Jon would listen.
"When I was thirteen, there was this girl I really liked. I'd finally gotten up the courage to ask her to come over and hang out. It was just kids stuff, we just hung out and play Nintendo and shit. But... it was fun, and I felt... Grown up. Happy. Then he came home and he was drunk... like, really, really drunk, worse then it usually was. And he got really pissed at me over something, I don't even remember what. But he just... beat the shit out of me," Ryan laughed a little, desperate, and Jon reached out to touch his face. Ryan leaned into it. "With her standing right there, he just... hit me and hit me. She never spoke to me again."
"Ryan, I don't even..." Jon started, but Ryan shook his head.
"Don't try to say anything, there isn't anything to say. I'm just that fucked up." Biting his lip, Ryan looked down at his hands. He'd never even told Spencer about that, too embarrassed and hurt by the memory.
Jon just sighed. "Ryan. You've got all this shit in you, and it's tearing you apart. Just... tell me. I won't judge you; I'm not going to think you're weak. I won't even say anything if you don't want me to. But I really, really do want to listen."
Maybe Jon really did understand. They ended up lying down on their sides facing each other, and Ryan just talked. He'd never, ever opened up so much to someone; never let so much of himself be exposed. He felt safe though, the way Jon listened, just watched him without pity or judgement, and it made him feel secure. Strong enough to break. And when he started crying, Jon just wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
Ryan woke up the next day curled up with Jon stretched out along his back, and Jon's arm warm and protective around his stomach. Ryan felt incredibly safe like that, and it scared him. It wasn't a kind of safe he was used to feeling. Ryan was used to safe meaning that there was someone to look out for him, Spencer or Pete or Zack. Jon made Ryan feel like he could look out for himself. He felt stronger than he ever had before, waking up next to Jon Walker, and he was terrified by it.
He must have stiffened, reacted someway that jolted Jon to life, because he could feel the older man moving behind him. Carefully, Ryan rolled over so he could see Jon's eyes when they blinked open. It was kind of fascinating, Ryan thought, the way recognition showed on Jon's face, a smile starting in his eyes and spreading outward as he focused on Ryan.
"Hey you," Jon said sleepily, gently cuffing Ryan's ear.
Ryan could help but grin back. "Good morning." Jon nodded absently, stretching sleepily. "So I was thinking that I could go out drinking with you," Ryan said in a rush, biting his lip as soon as the words were out.
Jon blinked in confusion. "Now? It's eight in the morning, Ry."
Ryan laughed, tension leaking out of his body. "Not now, assfuck. Just like... sometimes. I don't know, next time you and Brendon go or whatever. Like you said a while ago."
Jon was awake now, enough to process what Ryan was asking for. "I told you we'd take care of you."
Ryan just nodded, knowing he'd need all three of them with him at the beginning. And they would protect him, his boys always would. "Don't let me be like him," Ryan whispered, and it felt more personal than any secret he's shared the night before.
Jon looked sad, suddenly, and Ryan was taken aback by it. He dropped his eyes to the bed, embarrassed, but Jon's hand came out to lift his face.
"You won't be like him," Jon said with conviction. "You couldn't be, because it scares you so much. Ryan, you're... you're the gentlest person I've ever met, and I mean that in a totally good way. You won't even kill a spider - and I know; I've killed them for you." Ryan laughed softly, and Jon smiled. "You'll be okay."
Ryan believed him.