I'm Not Complete At All - Chapter 10 {Panic at the Disco, Cobra Starship, The Academy Is...}
Brendon stayed in the room, talking to Ryan for almost three hours. They covered the basics - music taste and things like that, pretending like they weren’t in a dangerous situation, or that Ryan wasn’t anyways. Gabe and William managed to sleep throughout their whole conversation, but the two boys were being quiet, so that may have been a contributing factor. Ryan tilted his head to the side as he looked at Brendon. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“What, in the basement?” Brendon asked. “Talking to you…”
“No,” Ryan shook his head. “What are you doing here, like in this house with that man, you’re nothing like him.”
“Oh.” Brendon shrugged. “Well I mean I didn’t know that he was like this, I swear. I mean he’s not the world’s best dad, but he’s all I’ve got and it’s not like I had anywhere else to go.” Brendon sighed. “Although if I’d known that he was involved in kidnapping I would have left a long time ago before any of this even started.”
“It’s probably better that you didn’t,” Ryan said, jerking his head over towards William and Gabe. “They need you.”
“What about you?” Brendon asked. “Is there anything that I can do for you?”
“You brought me the writing stuff,” Ryan shook his head. “I’m good, seriously, you can stop asking me what I need, there’s nothing that you can do for me, ok? Stop stressing out, you don’t deserve to be worrying about us, this isn’t your fault, it never was and it’s never going to be.” Ryan reached out, placing his hand on Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon cast his eyes downwards, not looking Ryan. “Brendon, look at me, please,” Ryan sighed. “You’re not involved in this, ok? So don’t get yourself into it. We’re not your responsibility, and if your dad catches you in here, he’ll hurt you; I’ve seen what he can do and I don’t want him to do that to you.”
“What did he do?” Brendon asked, his eyes widening as he looked up at Ryan.
“He just smacked William around a little bit, it’s not important what he did, what’s important is that he doesn’t do it to you.”
“Hey.” Brendon shook his head. “I brought Gabe here, I’m involved in this now, and I don’t see why it’s ok for him to hurt you and not me.”
“Because, Brendon, I know what it’s like to be hurt by your own father, ok?” Ryan sighed. “It seems like it wouldn’t be any different than being hit by anyone else, but I swear to you it is ten times worse because they’re supposed to take care of you, they’re supposed to protect you from people who would hit you, they’re not supposed to be the ones hitting you, they’re supposed to love you, and no matter what they say, no one who truly loves their child could hit them.” An unexpected tear found its way into the corner of Ryan’s left eye and he wiped it away quickly, hoping that Brendon wouldn’t notice it.
“Wait.” Brendon gulped. “Did your dad…”
“Every time he got drunk.” Ryan nodded.
“How often did he get drunk?” Brendon asked hesitantly.
“Once, twice a week?” Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t want to talk about it, ok? I just brought it up so that you would know that it’s not the same. I could punch you and break your nose and he could slap you across the cheek leaving only a temporary mark and I guarantee you that the slap will hurt a million times worse than the broken nose.”
“Oh.” Brendon gulped.
“It’s ok, I have an outlet.” Ryan held up the notebook. “Everything that I’m feeling, the anger, the hatred, I write it out, I can channel it well enough to ignore the pain, ok? So don’t worry about me, just promise me that you won’t get yourself into the same situation, ok?”
“One condition,” Brendon licked his lips, wondering for the millionth time why his father’s hostage was being so fucking kind to him.
“What’s that?” Ryan asked.
“You let me see it.” Brendon gestured towards the notebook. “The anger, I want to see.”
“Oh…” Ryan gulped. He had two choices, hand over his words or let this boy potentially subjugate himself to the level of a statistic, and not a good one at that. “Only if you promise to go back to your room afterwards.”
“I promise.” Brendon nodded.
“Ok, just one though, one page.”
“Alright.” Brendon took the notebook and opened to the first page that wasn’t filled with dark crossed out lines. What faced him were song lyrics, dark, depressing, and hauntingly beautiful.
The I.V. and your hospital bed
This was no accident
This was a therapeutic chain of events
This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital
It's not so pleasant
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in
It's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
Just sit back, just sit back
Just sit back and relax
Just sit back, just sit back
Just sit back and relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
Take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
Take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back
You're a regular decorated emergency
You're a regular decorated emergency
This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital
It's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in
It's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
Can't take the kid from the fight
Take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
Take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back
Sit back, sit back, relax, relapse
Sit back, sit back, bababada
You can take the kid out of the fight
You're a regular decorated emergency
The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake
You've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame
The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again
You're a regular decorated emergency
The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake
You've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame
The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again
Can't take the kid from the fight
Take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
Take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back
Sit back, sit back, relax, relapse
Sit back, sit back, bababada
You can take the kid out of the fight
The I.V. and your hospital bed
This was no accident
This was a therapeutic chain of events
Brendon didn’t say anything as he finished reading the lyrics, he had nothing to say. He shut the book, handed it back to Ryan, and stood up. “Brendon,” Ryan said, standing as well and walking Brendon to the door. “You’re out of this now, and as much as I appreciate all that you’ve done, don’t come back down here, ok?”
“Alright,” Brendon whispered, turning and leaving. After all, a promise was a promise, right?