A Gutless Twisted Lie [Standalone/Song!fic]
Title: A Gutless Twisted Lie
Author: ipanicdaily
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: 3rd; Brendon-centric mostly
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own anyone/anything other than the plot. Italicized lyrics belong to Green Day. The title comes from the song, "Goodbye" by Secondhand Serenade.
Summary: So Brendon continues to lie to everyone for him. Ryan's fine; he's just tired. He's too hot or stressed from all the interviews. He's worried about their relationship being discovered. Anything but the truth.
Warning: Eating disorder, depression, angst, language
Beta: lilrainforest
Song: "21 Guns" by Green Day
Written For: madlax_devil_00
Word count: ~9,ooo words.
Author Notes: Written for 100 Song!fics challenge
Brendon pulled the blanket up over Ryan's body to keep the older boy warm, leaning into the bunk to kiss his forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby," he whispered, pushing Ryan's bangs back. He didn't think about the fact that it was the middle of summer and Ryan needed a blanket. Ryan always seemed cold; the slight shivering was probably from the air conditioner on the bus. It didn't bother anyone else but Ryan is practically nothing to begin with so the blanket was nothing.
Brendon couldn't convince himself of the lie though.
Standing up, Brendon pulled the curtain to Ryan's bunk shut to give him privacy before heading to the lounge area to watch a movie or something. He pushed the button to slide the door shut again, separating the two sections, smiling at his friends as he headed to the couch. "Ryan asleep?" Spencer quietly asked, laying his hand or cards down, pausing his game with Jon.
"Yeah," Brendon said, grabbing a DVD, not really caring what it was, and going to the little player. Anything was better than the blue screen reading 'searching signal' in small white lettering. "He'll probably be out a few hours at least." Brendon's voice was exhausted but hopeful.
"That's good," Jon said quietly. Brendon nodded and fell onto the couch with the remote in his hand. He was sweating a little in the heat; but Ryan needed that blanket or he would get sick. Brendon didn't know who he was kidding though; Ryan was already sick.
"Brendon, can we talk?" Spencer quietly asked, turning from the table towards his friend.
"Sure," Brendon said in an unusual monotone voice. Spencer shared a look with Jon who nodded, both leaving the table and joining Brendon on the couch. "I love you guys and all but it's a bit too hot for this," Brendon said, sandwiched between his friends.
"We're worried about Ryan." Jon got right to the point. Brendon started the movie, still not really sure what it was, staring at the screen across from him in the high corner. "Bren? Did you hear me?" Jon asked, slightly concerned about the young singer as well.
"You're worried about Ryan," Brendon said, eyes still glued to the screen. "That's nothing new."
"This is different." Spencer tried, staring at Brendon whose gaze didn't falter. "Ryan's been...different lately. Like his attitude and everything."
"It's hot out; you're not always the nicest person either when hot." Brendon remained monotone, which worried his friends because they could tell he was hiding something.
"So...you haven't noticed anything?" Jon asked and Brendon shook his head. "No mood swings or the random disappearing for like ten minutes at a time? Or the fact that he always looks tired?"
"Ryan doesn't sleep right and just because he's my boyfriend doesn't mean I trail after him everywhere to watch his every move." Brendon started to get annoyed with the two because he was tired and had to do an interview in the early morning. He just wanted some peace.
"Is Ryan doing drugs?" Spencer flat out asked and Brendon's breath caught in his throat for a moment as he turned to stare at Spencer. "If he is then we can get him the help he needs."
"You're seriously asking me if your best friend is on drugs?" Brendon's eyebrows pulled together. "No, he's not doing drugs. And even if he was, why the hell are you asking me? Ask him!"
"You know that Ryan would lie," Jon said. "And we're asking you because Ryan really only talks to you."
"So this is a jealousy thing?" Brendon turned to Jon now. "He's not talking to you so he's doing drugs?"
"Brendon; that's not what we meant and you know it," Spencer said firmly. "Something's not right with Ryan and we're concerned. We're asking you because we're hoping you know why he's changing so we can help him before it goes too far." Brendon rolled his eyes and stood up.
"Ryan's not changing; you're both paranoid." Brendon tossed the remote to the spot on the couch his butt previously resided on. "It's hot as fuck out and he's suffering from it like the rest of us. Ryan's not on drugs or whatever else you're going to pin on him. If he's your friend, start treating him like it." Brendon headed towards the bunks. "Next time you want to know something, ask him yourselves. He's never given you reason not to trust him before." Once there was enough space to slide through, Brendon entered the bunks and shut the door again; sighing heavily.
He still couldn't believe the lie. No way Spencer and Jon would.
Brendon checked on Ryan, frowning at the fact that he was slightly shivering again, and grabbed his blanket to cover his boyfriend up. "How much longer?" Brendon quietly asked, watching Ryan's peaceful sleeping face for a moment before shutting the curtain and climbing into his own bunk.
How much longer does he have to lie?
Do you know what's worth fighting for?
When it's not worth dying for?
Does it take your breath away
And you feel yourself suffocating?
"Sugary goodness!" Brendon chimed, happy to see the little breakfast arrangement set up for them at the place the interview was taking place in; Brendon and Ryan being the (yet again) lucky candidates to get up this early to do so. "And they say you can't have chocolate for breakfast." he scoffed, grabbing a donut.
"Like you need the sugar…" Ryan mumbled while rolling his eyes. Brendon stuck his tongue out at Ryan then took a bite of the donut, disposing of a third of it in one bite, chewing contently and watching Ryan. "You're going to end up on a sugar high then crash when we're supposed to be performing."
"I'm not going to get sugar high from one donut," Brendon said through his chewing. "You eat some." he extended the half eaten pastry towards Ryan, already deciding what he would indulge on next.
"I'm not hungry." Ryan declined, pushing Brendon's arm away. Brendon pouted and did it again, determined to get something into Ryan. "Brendon, I'm not hungry."
"I disagree," Brendon said while taking another bite of the donut. "If you don't eat then you'll pass out and I'll be very sad." he pouted, disposing of the remainder of the baked good. Ryan bit his lip, determined not to fall to Brendon's manipulative powers but that's near impossible. You can't say 'no' to Brendon's puppy-like pout or you're heartless.
"It's like eight in the morning," Ryan said, trying to distract his boyfriend. "We have an interview soon." Brendon ignored Ryan and grabbed a little donut hole, offering it to Ryan.
"Come on, Ryan," Brendon said in a ridiculously dorky voice. "I know you want to eat me!" He moved the donut some with his hands, implying it was talking to Ryan. "I'll give you lots of energy to annoy the fuck out of Brendon until lunch time!" Ryan couldn't help but smile. Brendon was a child trapped in a twenty-two year olds body. "I'm delicioussss!" Brendon near squeaked, dragging the word out. Ryan couldn't help himself and started laughing because Brendon could be really dorky at times.
Giving in with a sigh, Ryan opened his mouth, making Brendon's face illuminate as he stuck the little ball of fried dough inside, satisfied that Ryan ate something; even if that something practically amounted to nothing. Ryan had to convince his jaw to move, trying not to gag as he swallowed, accepting the offered drink without a problem. "Happy?" he asked Brendon who was amusing himself with the donut holes by giving them all voices which begged Brendon not to eat them.
Brendon stuck one in his mouth and nodded, stealing a kiss before anyone came in. Their relationship was sort of a secret. Brendon didn't care if people found out but Ryan did so he was careful about what he did and where. "Brendon!" Ryan frowned, wiping his mouth. Brendon shrugged and stole Ryan's juice. "I hope you get sick," he said, joking of course. A show without the singer wouldn't work too well. Ryan could sing, but 50% of people at shows came just to see Brendon.
"What would you do if it I did it again?" Brendon asked, smiling and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You don't want to know," Ryan said, wandering towards the wall to read over the posters. Someone came in to tell them it would only be a moment longer. Brendon decided he did want to know what Ryan would do so he set the cup down and followed Ryan, slipping his arms around Ryan's thin frame. "Brendon..." Ryan's tone was a little warning.
"Hmm?" Brendon hummed innocently.
"Let go of me," Ryan said, trying not to lean into the embrace; the warmth of Brendon. They weren't supposed to do this in public unless they were on a stage. They weren't those two from that My Chemical something band who just seemed to never get off each other.
"No," Brendon said, kissing Ryan's neck, making the older boy unintentionally shiver. Brendon felt it too but didn't say anything because the body randomly shivers. It's nothing. "It's fun thinking we can get caught."
"Not really," Ryan said, pulling Brendon's arms off him. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"Ryan;" Brendon instantly frowned, giving Ryan a pleading look. "We'll be in the interview in a minute."
"I won't be long." Ryan headed for the door.
"Please?" Brendon asked, giving Ryan even more of a pleading look.
"I have to pee," Ryan said a little harshly, pulling the door open. "I'll be back in five minutes tops." He disappeared leaving Brendon alone in the little room. Brendon sighed and fell onto a chair, rubbing his face. He knew what Ryan was really doing; even if Ryan thinks he had Brendon fooled.
Brendon loved Ryan and wanted him to be safe. Ryan said he loved Brendon too.
So why does Ryan keep lying, leaving Brendon to cover up the mess?
Does your pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide?
Did someone break your heart inside?
You're in ruins
Streams of white moonlight poked through the maroon curtains of the hotel room, dimly lighting the surrounding area. Brendon lay curled up on the bed, knees pulled towards his chest and eyes open, blinking tears onto his pillow. He could hear the forced gagging from the bathroom where Ryan had gone about ten minutes ago, thinking Brendon was asleep. Brendon hardly slept anymore though; he had become obsessed with listening to Ryan sleep. Just to know that he was still alive.
Sounds of splashing water drifted to Brendon's ears and he sniffled, lying to himself. Ryan ate something that didn't agree with him. Only, Ryan barely even eats. Brendon has to practically force-feed him and that only pisses Ryan off. A lot of things seem to piss Ryan off now. Everyone's beginning to notice; Zack, venue crew, even the fans. They all notice Ryan's changing. They all say its drugs. But Ryan Ross doesn't do drugs; he's better than that.
So Brendon continues to lie to everyone for him. Ryan's fine; he's just tired. He's too hot or stressed from all the interviews. He's worried about their relationship being discovered. Anything but the truth.
When the toilet flushes, Brendon lets out a quick sob that shakes his whole body momentarily; dousing the pillow in tears. He knows that Ryan's sick, that Ryan needs help, that Ryan's killing himself, but he can't say anything. Brendon only knows how to lie. That's why no one knows what he knows, though it gets harder not to break every day. Ryan's getting thinner, the guitarist's goal, and people are noticing; especially since Ryan was thin to begin with. But if asked what's wrong with Ryan, Brendon lies. He lies before he even realizes he's talking. Anything to protect Ryan.
Again, another lie. Brendon can't even fool himself anymore.
The water starts to run as Ryan cleans up, brushing his teeth, so Brendon buried his head in the pillow, taking quick gasps of breath until he silenced himself. He's watching his boyfriend die and isn't trying to stop it. All Brendon does is cover it up. And he says he loves Ryan. That's probably just another lie. If you love someone, you get them help; not let them kill themselves.
One, 21 guns;
Lay down your arms, give up the fight.
One, 21 guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky,
You and I
Brendon relaxed against the too-comfortable mattress as Ryan cleansed his mouth of the acidic bile inside his body. That was all he was throwing up; stomach acid. There was nothing else his body could expel. Soon he would do permanent damage to himself; irreversible damage. Soon he wouldn't be able to keep anything down; his body so used to rejecting it.
The water stopped and Brendon heard Ryan mutter a few words to himself, probably about being 'fat and ugly', making Brendon's chest tighten. Ryan certainly isn't fat and he's far from ugly; he's the most beautiful creature in all the world to Brendon. But convincing Ryan of that was futile. Brendon heard the light switch flick, Ryan quietly padding back to the bed. He needed some sleep and the hotel beds beat the bunks by a long shot.
Ryan carefully climbed onto the bed, stretching his legs out beneath the covers and lying down beside his boyfriend. He moved around a little, trying to get comfortable. Brendon wiped his eyes then turned over, wrapping an arm around Ryan's nonexistent waist. It felt that way, at least. "Sorry I woke you." Ryan whispered, turning to face Brendon. "I had to pee."
"I know," Brendon replied, trying not to gasp for air; an after effect of heavy crying.
"Go back to sleep," Ryan said as he pushed Brendon's bangs back. "You're warm; I hope my Brenny-Bear isn't getting sick." The strong smell of mint made Brendon want to cry. Evidence makes lying hard.
"I'm fine," Brendon said with a shaky smile. Ryan kissed his forehead then curled against Brendon for warmth; Brendon pulling the blanket up and hugging Ryan close.
Ryan needed Brendon's body heat for warmth because he had nothing left to his body to make his own. His bones were all too visible in the pale flesh that covered them.
When you're at the end of the road
And you've lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul
"Ryan?" Spencer frowned at his lifelong friend as they sat backstage; their opening band finishing up.
"Y-yeah?" Ryan asked, blinking his eyes a bit. His head really hurt.
"Are you okay?" Spencer asked with heavy concern, looking at the other two for help. Ryan nodded, rubbing his eyes and swaying a little where he stood. Brendon quickly grabbed Ryan's wrist and pulled him down to his lap, wrapping his arms loosely but securely around Ryan's waist. Ryan didn't argue or anything; just shut his eyes and leaned back against the stable body. "I think we should cancel."
"It's a little too late," Jon said, looking as concerned. "We go on in like five minutes."
"Not if Ryan can't-"
"I'm fine!" Ryan suddenly snapped at Spencer, making them all jump some. Ryan's never sounded that angry. "It's just...a headache..." he mumbled, rubbing his head.
"Ry," Brendon started cautiously, "You feel really warm and you can barely keep your balance. Maybe you should lay down this show...I can cover your parts mostly..." his heart rate was elevated because he was the most worried. He knew why Ryan was having problems.
And yet he continued to lie.
"Will you all just...leave me the fuck alone?!" Ryan practically yelled, trying to get away from Brendon but failing because he was too weak. Brendon was barely holding onto Ryan. "I can play..." he said quietly after, looking about ready to cry.
Jon brought him a bottle of water and extended it out. "Drink some of this," he said. Ryan took the bottle, his hand shaking, and tried to open it but couldn't. Brendon took the water and untwisted the cap, no one saying a word as he gave it back to the man on his lap. Ryan continued to lightly shake as he drank it, so Brendon rocked a bit to try and make it less noticeable.
But Spencer and Jon had already seen too much to be fooled anymore.
“You guys are on!” Someone suddenly popped in to announce. Spencer got up and helped Ryan from Brendon’s lap, all of them heading to the stage where the last of their equipment was being set up. Everyone but Ryan exchanged worried, nervous looks, silently agreeing they would keep the speech minimal so they could get Ryan off the stage as soon as possible. He needed medical attention but Ryan would never agree to that so they would have to do their best to care for him.
“I told you something wasn’t right,” Spencer said to Brendon as Ryan and Jon walked on stage.
“He probably got a cold and is over exhausted.” Brendon lied some more.
“You’re the one I can’t trust anymore, Urie.” Spencer wasn't buying it. “Whatever you’re hiding,” they started onto the stage as well, “is killing him.” Spencer parted to his drums while Brendon went for the microphone, watching Ryan closely. He looked like he was going to crumble beneath the weight of his guitar.
The lights were bright and warm, the crowd screaming uncontrollably as the curtains parted to reveal the band. Everyone fulfilled their roles perfectly. The band played, Brendon sang, and the backdrop matched whatever song was being belted out. The crowd did their part too; screamed between songs, clapped after them, and sang along during them.
They even all gasped when Ryan collapsed to the ground during the fifth song; completely silent for a whole two seconds before erupting in frightened screams and frantic whispers. Immediately, the crew and Spencer rushed to Ryan to make sure he was okay. Trying not to cry, Brendon gave the crowd one of his infamous lies before the curtain closed once more for privacy.
It was cruel that he was the one who got to ride in the ambulance when it was his entire fault.
Your faith walks on broken glass
And the hangover doesn’t pass
Nothing’s ever built to last
You’re in ruins
Brendon’s head was pressed against the glass of the window, staring down at the parking lot crowded with paparazzi and fans. They didn’t care that it was pouring; they only cared about Ryan. Some for monetary reasons, others just for the guitarist’s life. “He’s got an eating disorder and only weighs an astounding ninety-three pounds.” Brendon mumbled against the glass. “I knew the entire time, too. But I didn’t say anything.” His voice was masked with a cynical amusement to keep himself from crying. He was near ready to explode.
“Stop fucking blaming yourself,” Spencer said, slightly angered, sitting in a chair behind Brendon. “Ryan knew what he was doing to himself; he’s not retarded.”
“But I could have gotten him help!” Brendon spun around, his already puffy-red eyes holding tears again. “I’ve known for months but I’ve been lying instead of trying to help him! He almost died, Spencer!”
“I’m fucking aware of that!” Spencer snapped, looking stressed and frustrated. Drugs he could have believed because Ryan’s past blows, but an eating disorder was beyond even his thoughts.
“Both of you calm down or leave!” Jon intervened, sitting in the other chair in the room, which rested on the other side of Ryan. “We can’t change what happened; Ryan’s got some mentality problems obviously to have done this to himself.” Brendon cringed. “Fortunately, this is very curable so can we be happy about that and wait for Ryan to wake up?” Brendon and Spencer looked at each other apologetically, nodding. They were there for Ryan.
“He needs rehab,” Spencer said a few moments later. “He needs constant supervision and counseling.” Brendon looked at the bed, frowning at the sight of Ryan, small body laying beneath the covers, a variety of tubes and wires attached to him; monitors, an IV, and a variety of supplements to help his body from eating itself due to lack of substance. His throat was rather ripped up and he had a bit of bleeding in his stomach but like Jon said, it wasn’t disastrous as long as Ryan got help.
Ryan would need rehab. He would be evaluated by the hospital therapist and given how long he needs to attend counseling for his disorder until he learns to keep his food down. No one could trust him alone anymore; afraid he would shove his fingers down his throat. They barely even trusted Brendon anymore but he didn’t care. He could only lie.
“The tour will have to be canceled.” Spencer broke the silence that developed.
“Minor price for his life,” Brendon mumbled, leaning against the wall.
“I’m sure the fans will understand.” Jon quietly added, the other two nodding in agreement. “We all let this happen to him. Somehow we let Ryan believe that there really was something wrong with him.”
“Ryan never really liked how he looked,” Spencer said, eyes slightly glazed in memory. “He always said he was too thin though.”
“Can we please get the ‘he’s dead’ tone gone?” Brendon asked and they looked at him to see the singer on the verge of a panic attack. He knew and didn’t say anything; he almost let Ryan die. He was ready to freak out. Both Jon and Spencer got up, walking to Brendon and making a Brendon-sandwich with their bodies.
“He’s going to be just fine,” Jon whispered into Brendon’s ear, though loud enough for Spencer to hear.
“Ryan’s a stubborn person; he’ll get over this too.” Spencer added to try and calm Brendon down.
“I love him.” Brendon was crying once again.
And for once, he wasn’t lying.
One, 21 guns,
Lay down you arms, give up the fight.
One, 21 guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky
You and I
Ryan sat on the edge of the bed, knees pulled up as tight to his body as he could get them and arms wrapped completely around them; drowning in one of Brendon’s hoodies just to have that familiar comfort. Tears dripped from his eyelashes into the jeans he wore as the walls mocked him. He didn’t want to be in the little room as his friends talked to staff or tried to make it “comfortable” for him.
He didn’t want to be in rehab. Ryan was fully convinced he didn’t have a problem. But they threatened the band against him. If Ryan didn’t get help, there would be no more Panic at the Disco. And Ryan couldn’t do that; not to the fans if for no other reason.
Brendon sat on the bed beside Ryan and touched his back, Ryan wiping his eye along the rough fabric covering his knee as he turned his head away. He could lie to everyone, but only Brendon made him feel ashamed for doing so. “Hey,” Brendon said quietly, trying to be reassuring. “This is for your own good, Ry.” he rubbed large, slow circles on Ryan’s back; feeling the man’s spine through the cloth. Ryan didn’t say a word. Brendon sighed and shut his mouth, continuing in actions while Spencer talked with a counselor and Jon with Zack on the phone.
After a few minutes, Ryan abandoned his knees and turned to Brendon, wrapping his arms around the younger boy as tightly as he could; clinging to him. It was Ryan’s way of begging not to be left there as he cried into Brendon’s shoulder, breaking Brendon’s heart more than it was already shattered into. Brendon didn’t want to leave Ryan there, he wanted to take him away and just never let go, but Ryan needed to be here. He needed help; help that Brendon wasn’t strong enough to give him.
And that killed Brendon the most.
Spencer came back into the room, Ryan’s home for the next couple of weeks, Jon following close behind and shutting the door. Brendon faltered and looked at Spencer with a bit of a reconsidering look, but Spencer near glared back, silently telling Brendon that Ryan wasn’t getting out of this. They all agreed back in the hospital that this was best for Ryan because if it went any father, there wouldn’t be a Ryan Ross left to be friends with or be in a band in or be in love with. Brendon frowned and buried his face in Ryan’s hair, holding him close and rubbing his back still, waiting for one of the other two to speak.
“So, there’s something else we need to discuss.” Spencer was the one to speak, leaning back against the dresser holding Ryan’s clothes while Jon leaned against the wall, staring at the floor and arms crossed over his chest. Ryan continued to cling to Brendon now, nearly making the singer fall backwards on the bed as Ryan was practically in his lap, choking as he sobbed into the cloth of Brendon’s shirt.
“Ryan, you really need to calm down,” Jon quietly said. Brendon looked up to Jon, shaking his head a bit because Ryan needed to cry right now; he needed to let it out in the comfort of his friends, well boyfriend really, before he was alone in the foreign place. They all knew that Ryan would lock himself away for the first couple of days, maybe a week, refusing to talk to anyone.
“I…we…all think that…it would be best if…if we didn’t really come to see you until you’re better…” Spencer almost didn’t find his voice to speak, but he couldn’t just leave Ryan hanging. “We just…we want you to get better, Ryan, and we think that it’ll be easier if we’re not constantly around.”
“Please…” Ryan whispered into Brendon’s neck, choking a bit more on his tears. “I’m not s-sick…please d-don’t leave me…” Brendon took a deep inhale of oxygen and held it, shutting his eyes. He knew that Ryan was asking him; not Spencer and not Jon. He was asking Brendon not to leave him. “I-I’m fine…”
“No, Ryan, you’re not.” Brendon choked on his words a little, running his fingers through Ryan’s hair. “You have a problem and it’s killing you. The people here are going to help you.” Ryan made a little whining noise, losing his posture some and falling to a ball against Brendon. “If we’re not around then it’ll be easier for you to focus on getting better to get out.”
“B-but…I’m n-not sick…” Ryan clung to his ignorance. “I just…want to go…play and…” he choked some more, Brendon’s shirt clinging to his skin in wetness.
“Last time we tried that you collapsed,” Jon said from his spot. “We can’t risk your life like that.”
“I’m not…dying…” Ryan let go of Brendon and curled up around himself again.
“Ryan, you didn’t even weigh in the triple digits when they brought you in the hospital. You’re just barely in the hundreds now. You shake, you’re weak, you’re always cold, you’re pissed off one moment then perfectly content the next; you were wasting away.” Spencer was trying not to be harsh, but Ryan’s like his big brother and he couldn’t let anything happen to him again. “Even if you don’t want to believe it, you’re sick. And that’s why you’re here; to get better.”
“We can’t lose you, Ryan,” Brendon said, pushing Ryan’s hair back then gently stroking his face. “I can’t lose you,” he practically whispered after, hardly hanging on to tell himself that he didn’t need to start crying because he had to be as strong as he could for Ryan right now. Ryan was falling apart; no one really wants to be in rehab. But they created rehabs for people like Ryan who need that extra bit of help when their lives run off track. “It’s not forever anyway. All you have to do is attend your group every day and eat every meal without, you know, for a couple of weeks. There’s plenty for you to do and of course you have your guitar.” Brendon smiled his best attempt, trying to make the situation a little more pleasant.
“We’re doing this because we love you, Ryan.” Jon couldn’t even look up at Ryan, afraid that he would start crying. They all did that plenty enough in the past two weeks. Now it was Ryan’s turn; he got to cry while everyone else was his support. Only, everyone else was having a hard time being that support. It was tough having to leave Ryan in the foreign building without talking to him or seeing him every day but it was better for Ryan in the long run.
“Just get out…” Ryan whispered a bit harshly, crawling up the bed and grabbing the pillow from Brendon’s bunk that was being left with him. It smelt like the conditioner Brendon used because shampoo wasn’t enough. Conditioner kept his hair shiny and soft.
“Ryan…” Brendon started but really had no words to say that hadn’t already been said.
“Get out,” he said even harsher than before. Jon exhaled loudly and shook his head, opening the door and sliding out into the hall. Brendon looked to Spencer who just gave him a look of defeat because they tried and if Ryan didn’t want to help him, they couldn’t force him.
“You can always call us to talk,” Spencer said before following Jon out the door. Brendon watched them both leave, torn between what he should do because he wanted to follow them and be strong, to show Ryan that he agreed with the decisions they made, but when he looked at Ryan who seemed so small in the curled position, crying heavily into the pillow, he just wanted to stay.
Biting his lip, Brendon crawled up the bed and laid down next to Ryan, putting his arms around Ryan’s shaking body. He could stay a little longer, until Ryan calms down, because Ryan deserved that. He deserved to at least get used to the idea of being in the building by himself for about a month without being totally alone just yet. “I love you.” Brendon whispered to Ryan, shutting his eyes. “I love you and can’t stand seeing you hurting yourself like this.”
Ryan didn’t say a word back, but he slowly calmed down, falling asleep from wearing his body out. Brendon pulled the blanket over him and kissed his forehead before slipping out the door, hugging himself as he walked out of the rehab.
It was for Ryan’s good.
Did you try to live on your own
When you burned down the house and home?
Did you stand too close to the fire
Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone?
“Will you stop that?!” Spencer said with frustration, slapping Brendon’s hand yet again as he ripped bags of cheap candy open to dump into the large orange bowl. It was Halloween and even though he lived in a small apartment, having even less room now with Brendon temporarily staying with him, Spencer still expected trick-or-treaters and had to be ready. “The candy’s for tonight.”
“But I want it now.” Brendon frowned, using his pointer finger and thumb to carefully extract a lollipop from the mass selection all jumbled in front of him.
“Well you can’t have it,” Spencer said, snatching the lollipop back and throwing it into the bowl. “You need to go get ready anyway.” he tried dismissing Brendon from the sugary supply. Sugar is the last thing Brendon Urie needs; ever. Though, he hasn’t really been himself in the past couple of weeks.
Not since he had to be practically dragged away from the rehab they left Ryan at. Spencer literally stuck the child locks on the car and shoved Brendon in the back, preventing him from trying to run back.
“Meanie.” Brendon huffed, turning and heading towards the living room; three lollipops held behind his back, having been stolen when Spencer was distracted by the single one Brendon slowly removed. He fell over the arm of the couch, bouncing a bit on the cushions, and set his treasure on the coffee table.
“Get dressed!” Spencer called after the singer as though he was Brendon’s mother. If he didn’t act that way the Brendon would probably be facing a similar situation to Ryan; only his being unintentional. Brendon's just been lacking the willpower to basically live lately. Whenever he shut his eyes he sees Ryan’s pleading face, the tears streaming from his eyes, and can hear Ryan’s sobbing not to be left alone there. For the first week or two he had nightmares over it.
“I am dressed!” Brendon protested, grabbing the remote to try and find something on the television to watch. Normally Brendon would be all over Halloween, running about decorating and putting on the most extravagantly dorky costume ever, begging and pouting with Ryan or someone else to go with him to get candy, declaring the ‘age limit’ to trick-or-treating to be a conspiracy. But this year, Brendon just treated the day like any other that he’d been wasting at Spencer's; alone.
He wasn’t even allowed to visit his boyfriend on Ryan’s birthday.
“Pajama’s don’t count as being ‘dressed’,” Spencer said with some annoyance.
“Well I could go around naked.” Brendon answered, Spencer smiling at the fact that at least Brendon was able to get a light joke in every now and again. It was painful to watch Brendon change into practically the polar opposite of his former self, but he knew that Ryan was getting the help he needed. Honestly, Spencer was surprised Ryan didn’t just check himself out and show up at the door. “Jon’s seen me in my pajama’s before,” he said, flipping boredly through the channels. Jon had taken the ‘break’ to head back to Chicago to visit but was coming back to Vegas for a little Halloween celebration.
“My mom will be disappointed if she finds out she so nicely washed your clothes and you’re not wearing them.” Spencer ripped open the last of the bags of candy.
“My pajama’s are comfortable,” Brendon said as he grabbed one of the lollipops and yanked the little paper wrapping off, cramming it into his mouth. “I won’t tell her if you won’t.” his teeth scrapped along the candy as he spoke, moving it around some with his tongue, not even paying attention to the television as he changed the channels.
“You’re just being lazy.” Spencer joined Brendon in the living room when all the bags were in the trash, rolling his eyes at the fact that Brendon had still managed to obtain sugar. Brendon shrugged and pulled the lollipop out with a soft ‘pop’, licking his lips as Spencer lifted his legs to sit down; dropping them across his lap. It was easier than trying to Brendon to sit up or move. “Jon will be here any time.”
“Okay.” Brendon dismissed the statement, missing the hinting tone Spencer had woven in his voice. Spencer sighed and rested his head in his hand, propping his elbow on the arm of the couch and watching Brendon carelessly change the channel every five seconds. Well, he did until he practically screamed upon noticing that one of the on-demand channels was playing Aladdin. “Can we buy it?!” he instantly asked Spencer, face illuminated and eager.
“You have it on DVD in your room.” Spencer frowned, avoiding looking at Brendon.
“But that’s so far away!” Brendon whined. “They make on-demand to save you the hassle of such effort!”
“I’m not paying for a movie you own and have seen a million times when you can just get up and go get it from the bedroom.” Spencer remained firm so Brendon continued to whine.
“Please?!” Brendon pleaded, still whining and now bouncing slightly. He just didn’t feel like getting up. “Please Spin? It’s only,” he squinted at the screen, “$4.99 for the day! I have five dollars I can give you in one of the pairs of jeans in my room! Please?!”
“Fine!” Spencer gave in, already fed up with listening to Brendon whine. “We’ve only watched it practically every day for the past month.” he mumbled as Brendon typed in the code to order it. Spencer didn’t even want to know how Brendon already knew it. Just as the movie began to play, the door opened then shut, Spencer smiling wider than he should have to his friends return.
“Hi Jon!” Brendon called, sucking contently on the lollipop with a content look on his face. “We’re in the living room watching Aladdin!”
“Again,” Spencer said after. Brendon pulled the lollipop from his mouth to stick his tongue out, waving as Jon walked into the living room and stood beside the car. “I get forced to watch this every day.” he looked up to Jon for sympathy, the eldest of them laughing teasingly. “I don’t know why he’s so enthralled with the animated film that he’s seen more than his own face.”
“Because,” Brendon started with a sigh, rolling his eyes at having to explain yet again. “It’s-“
“His favorite movie.” Brendon’s eyes widened and he dropped the lollipop as well as the remote to the floor, jaw lowered some so his lips were parted. “I think Disney should sponsor him.”
“Ryan?” Brendon practically whispered, eyes glued to the form standing a little bit behind Jon, who, like Spencer, was smiling a little deviously. They had talked with Ryan’s counselors who said he was much better and that it was probably time for Ryan to head home if he wanted.
“You’re not in some ridiculous outfit.” Ryan frowned, tilting his head as he tried not to smile madly himself.
“Ryan!” Brendon screamed, scrambling to get off the couch, accidentally kicking Spencer in the face in the process. “It’s you!” he squealed as he shoved Jon aside (unintentionally) and threw his arms around Ryan, squeezing him to near suffocation. Ryan choked a bit, unable to move in Brendon’s iron-locked arms, watching as Spencer groaned on the couch with pain. “Ryan…” Brendon’s voice trailed off, his face buried in Ryan’s chest, unable to keep himself from crying.
“Bren…” Ryan half gasped, losing ability to breathe. “I can’t…really breathe…” Brendon loosened his grip just enough to allow a smooth flow of air through Ryan’s lungs, never wanting to actually let go. Jon helped Spencer up then exchanged a few glances, quietly leaving with Spencer to the other room to give the two privacy. Jon had time to catch up in the car and Spencer could wait; Brendon needed Ryan right now.
“I missed you…” Brendon whispered into Ryan’s clothes, twisting the back of his shirt some. “So fucking much.” Ryan smiled softly and managed to get his arms free to put around Brendon, holding him just as closely.
“I missed you too,” he said, laying his head on Brendon’s shoulder. “It was so hard being away from you.” Ryan suddenly felt a rush of tears come to his eyes, trying to hold them back, taking deep inhales of the scent which had worn off the hoodie and pillow after the first week or so.
“You’re warm and huggable again.” Brendon randomly said, loving that Ryan felt human again. He wasn’t as pale anymore and definitely wasn’t shaking. He was Ryan again. “I didn’t…It was so hard leaving you there…” Brendon coughed some, Ryan rubbing Brendon’s back to calm him.
“I was mad the first few days.” he admitted quietly. “But I realized you were right. I was sick and needed help.” It was painful for Ryan to say to Brendon, but he had to do it. He had six weeks to practice, well five by the time he got over his stubbornness, and he had to let Brendon hear it.
“And you’re all better?” Brendon lifted his head up to look at Ryan with teary brown eyes, a desperate, pleading, hopeful look on his face. Ryan smiled and nodded, kissing Brendon gently on the lips; both regaining the feeling that was nearly erased.
“I’m all better.” Ryan’s lips brushed against Brendon’s as he spoke, their faces still so close, before they ended up kissing some more. Brendon removed his arms from Ryan’s waist, ecstatic at the thought that Ryan actually had one again, and put them around Ryan’s neck to pull himself up some more since Ryan was just a tiny bit taller. "I did it for you." he whispered to Brendon between the light but needed and very satisfying kisses he had been longing for since the day they left him there.
"You did it for you," Brendon said in correction, laying his head on Ryan's shoulder for a moment and shutting his eyes, taking the scent and feel of his boyfriend in again.
"Well you were my inspiration," Ryan said as he lay his head on top of Brendon's because he didn't realize how much he needed and loved the younger man until they were separated like that. He didn't realize how sick he was until he didn't have Brendon around lying for him anymore. Ryan was forced to face the truth at rehab and it hurt to see how much he hurt his friends.
They stood like that for a few minutes, just taking each other in, Brendon calming himself away from crying before Jon and Spencer came back. Brendon pulled away from Ryan and wiped his eyes, smiling at his other friends who looked happy but out of place at the same time. "So..." Jon broke the developing silence with his hands in his pockets. "What do we want to do now?"
"It's Halloween," Brendon said, rolling his eyes and smiling. "There's only one thing to do."
"And that would be...?" Jon looked at him expectantly.
"Go trick-or-treating!" Brendon squealed, throwing his arms into the air. Ryan groaned but smiled, shaking his head lightly and sharing a look with Spencer as though to say, 'he'll never learn'. Spencer just smiled and watched as Brendon grabbed Ryan's hand, dragging him off towards the bedroom to make some sort of quick costume, happy to have both of his friends back. Not only was Ryan, but Brendon was too, and things were starting to look up again.
When it's time to live and let die
And you can't get another try
Something inside this heart has died
You're in ruins
In late November they picked up the tour again, wanting time alone together for a bit. Fans had learned about Ryan's problem, his rehab, and the scheduled shows were sold out before any of them even had a chance to realize where they were going. It was almost as though the past couple of months never even happened; Brendon was back to constantly being in everyone's space, Ryan was far less moody, and everyone knew better than to bring the ordeal up in front of the four. It was almost as though there was just a chunk of time missing in their lives.
Almost.
Brendon had learned within the first week of Ryan's return that his boyfriend had changed; but that was expected. Ryan went through a lot in a short amount of time. Ryan still hardly ate, not that he ever shoveled food down his throat before, but at least he didn't make up excuses every meal. He just sat with one or all of them, a rule they had unofficially decided, and consumed enough for everyone to leave him alone. Ryan was, after all, a small person.
"Why'd you do it?" Brendon asked one night when it they stopped a hotel for the night.
"Various reasons." Ryan shrugged, scribbling potential lyrics over a page in his notebook. Brendon was the only one who could get away with asking.
"Like what?" Brendon climbed onto the bed and lay next to Ryan, resting his head on the older boys shoulder. Ryan looked away from his paper and at Brendon with a slightly stern look to which Brendon frowned and looked at the words covering the paper. "I just want to make sure it doesn't happen again."
"It won't," Ryan said, a hint of apprehension in his voice. Brendon didn't notice. "I didn't suffer six weeks in that hell hole to land myself back." he became a bit bitter, looking back at his own work.
"These are kind of crude, Ry," Brendon said as he read over what Ryan had written so far.
"Well I have a different perspective now." Ryan responded as though it was nothing. But to Brendon, it wasn't nothing. Sure, the first album was a bit angsty, they were young and very hormonal still. Now though, everything was for the love of music and expression. What Ryan was writing was along the lines of 'emo' labeled bands that they were trying to separate themselves from. "It's not like we have to use them or anything." he mumbled.
"It's late; we should probably be heading to bed now." Brendon removed his head from Ryan's shoulder to lie back against the bed, the words burning against his brain. He tried to tell himself that they were nothing, that it was just taking Ryan time to adjust, but he wasn't convincing himself well.
"I'm not tired," Ryan said without removing his eyes or pen from his notebook. "I can leave if you want to sleep."
"Or you can just lay with me." Brendon suggested, his eyes holding that pouting-pleading look. Ryan didn't even look at him.
"It's ok, Bren," Ryan said as he slid off the bed. "I'll go see if Spin and Jon are up or something." He shut the notebook and started towards the door. Brendon wanted to stop him but the words just wouldn't come. This wasn't the Ryan he remembered from a year or so ago. "I'll be back later."
"I love you," Brendon said, sitting up and trying not to let his face express the hurt he suddenly felt.
"You too." Ryan gave Brendon a quick smile before sliding out of the room leaving Brendon all alone. Brendon wanted to say that he trusted Ryan to be alone, that the guitarist would indeed go to visit their other friend's room right next door for an hour or so, but he couldn't. After what happened last time, Brendon's trust in Ryan was little to none.
Even if he knew what Ryan was doing, Ryan never actually told him. And that hurt Brendon.
One, 21 guns,
Lay down your arms, give up the fight.
One, 21 guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky
It took Ryan promptly six months to relapse. Brendon could have done the math to find out the exact day and hour, to calculate exactly how long Ryan went without letting his eating disorder control him, because a problem like that never truly goes away, but he was too busy running a variety of dust-covered lies through his mind to find one suiting enough to try and cover up the mistake. He believed that it was just a slip, a temporary thing, or that Ryan actually was sick in a different kind of way.
He still couldn't convince himself.
It was on Valentine's Day that Brendon first noticed. As a couple, they spent the day together, avoiding cameras and discovery by choosing to stay inside their apartment. Brendon made breakfast, even if he's not the greatest cook, and Ryan managed to get down as much as he could to make his boyfriend smile. Not even ten minutes later, while Brendon was cleaning up, Ryan disappeared to the bathroom. But Brendon trusted Ryan, temporarily fooled himself into believing that Ryan wasn't doing what Brendon's mind said he was doing, and didn't mention it.
The sickening smell of mint surrounded Ryan when he came back. Brendon decided that he just sucked at cooking, he already knew this, and that Ryan just wanted the taste gone. It was just one small slip, Ryan had learned his lesson, and Brendon wasn't going to ruin their special day together.
Ryan wouldn't even let Brendon see him naked, not even shirtless, anymore.
By Brendon's birthday, it had gotten a lot worse again. Ryan had better control over it, choosing times when Brendon was too busy to stop him, and not even waiting for a bathroom anymore. Sometimes it was a trashcan or a back alley or, if dark enough, the middle of the street. It didn't matter to Ryan anymore. Even after six weeks of being tricked to lies, he knew who he really was, and he wasn't going to force himself to be anything else.
He was ugly, fat, disgusting; everyone lied at him to spare his feelings. If Ryan changed, they wouldn't have to lie to him, and they would find him to be beautiful. He didn't realize that he was destroying himself inside and outside.
Brendon leaned against the wood of the bathroom door, one hand wrapped around the frozen golden handle and the other tapping lightly on the door. "Ryan, please," he pleaded with tear filled eyes.
"Go away, Brendon," Ryan said a little bitterly. He sat on his knees in front of the toilet, hands gripping the white porcelain tightly and body shaking some as he forced himself to heave to empty his body. "I'm...almost done..."
"Stop doing this to yourself, Ryan!" Brendon shook the handle, not expecting it to be unlocked. Ryan wasn't even near the door. "You don't need to constantly force yourself to throw up!"
"Yes, I do!" Ryan half-yelled back. "I'm disgusting to look at and-"
"You're not disgusting, Ryan Ross!" Brendon sighed, having had this argument multiple times. "Please open up and let me help you? We'll find other ways for-"
"You can't help me, Brendon!" Ryan felt tears come to his own eyes. He hated arguing with Brendon, but he wished the younger man could see what he saw; what he felt. "This is who I am! I can't be changed!"
"This isn't who you are!" Brendon pressed his forehead against the door and shut his eyes. "You're a beautiful man who I love very much from the way you look to the way you act and talk and everything else. You're an amazing guitarist and lyricist and you can sing really well too! You're kind and funny and loving and not some disgusting monster that you keep making yourself out to be!" He hit his knuckled against the door, slowly dragging them down to meet his face. "You can get help." Brendon practically whispered, trying to think of other ways to get Ryan from this awful state of mind he enveloped himself into once again since apparently rehab didn't work.
"If you love me so much you'll understand!" Ryan began crying, really for no reason at all other than imbalanced hormones again. "You'll understand that I have to do this for myself! For us!"
"You're only killing yourself, Ryan!" Brendon got angry again, frustrated from pushing the truth off for too long. He wouldn't let Ryan get away with it this time. "You're killing yourself and it's killing me!" he heard Ryan throw up some more, no doubt from the heavy sobs the older man was emitting, and slid down the door until he sat on his knees. "Please let me help you, Ryan. We'll find something that actually works and we'll do whatever it takes to get you better for good this time."
"I told you; I can't be changed!" Ryan laughed dryly with his crying. "Just...leave me alone, okay?! I...I know what I'm doing and I'm not going to kill myself!" he threw up again, burning his throat more.
"Well you're killing me!" Brendon angrily shouted, drawing away from the door to wipe his eyes. "I can't stand seeing you wither away like this, Ryan! It starts with occasionally throwing up then it gets to you barely eat which makes you lose weight you don't have to begin with! Your eyes get all sunken and full of constant exhaustion, you're always cold, you get incredibly weak, and you're mood swings are almost unbearable! Do you know how many nights I've cried myself to sleep thinking about you dying?! Thinking about living without you?!" He punched the door hard with frustration. It only made Ryan cry more. He hated making Brendon upset, but he couldn't stop. "I let it nearly destroy you last time, Ryan, but I won't watch you die this time around! I'm done lying for you and trying to convince people that you're okay because you're not! You have a problem, Ryan, and you need help!"
"I don't fucking need help!" Ryan spat, choking and dropping down to his butt, his legs too tired to support him on his knees any longer. "And I never asked you to lie for me! I don't need you to cover up my life for me to make it look all perfect or anything, Brendon!" Ryan's whole body shook with anger, sobs, and slight chills. He hated what he became; but he couldn't change it. It was who he was now. "Now just leave me alone, okay?! I told you I'll be done in a minute!" Ryan coughed violently, little droplets of blood spraying onto his arm.
"Fine! I'll leave you alone!" Brendon shouted, getting off the floor and wiping his eyes again, yelling at the door. "This isn't the Ryan I fell in love with so if this is who you are now, you can find someone else to make sure you have god knows how many blankets on top of you to keep you warm or do the simplest of tasks like open a fucking water bottle when you're too weak to manage yourself because I can't take it anymore, Ryan! I can't take watching you wither away to nothing because you're too fucking stubborn to admit you have a problem or get yourself help! I'm done lying for you!" He kicked the door, feeling very overwhelmed with emotional pain. "If this is what you want to be then fine; do whatever you want. Just don't expect me at your funeral."
Ryan stared at the door, wincing when Brendon kicked it because the door actually came in a little, listening to the words come from his boyfriend's, well, probably ex-boyfriend's, mouth. He wanted to get up and unlock the door, to let Brendon hold him and tell him everything would be ok; that Ryan really could get help. He wanted to promise Brendon that he would change, that he would get proper help and prevent this from occurring again. He wanted to tell Brendon he loved him so much; but he couldn't. Ryan couldn't move away from the toilet, the fear of never being able to purge again freezing him in his spot. No matter how much he tried or wanted, Ryan would never overcome his eating disorder, and that was probably the most terrifying thing of all.
Brendon bit his lip harshly, drops of blood running down to his chin, as he repeatedly wiped his eyes and made his way to the door. He knew it was only a matter of days now until Ryan's body had taken too much damage to recover, and he knew there was no way he could watch Ryan die completely. He couldn't lie anymore to cover up what Ryan was doing because every lie haunted Brendon in his dreams. He couldn't lie awake to listen to Ryan heaving in the bathroom or cry himself dry when no one else was around about how in love he was with someone who had given up control over their own life.
He had to get out while he could, before it destroyed him completely as well.
Brendon grabbed his cellphone and keys, pulling the door open and stepping into the hall. "I love you," he whispered, looking back into the apartment with blurred vision from his heavy tears, "and that's what hurts the most."
One, 21 guns,
Lay down you arms, give up the fight.
One, 21 guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky,
You and I
A/N--- So yeah. I finally got it done. The ending fails, I know, I'm sorry.
For anyone who reads "Two Weeks In Hawaii", slashatthedisco is being really anal to me about accepting chapters suddenly so you might as well follow my journal for updates. I swear ch.3 will be up soon.
The "New Perspective" video fails. The Young Veins are done tracking (according to twitter) so yeah; can't wait <3
xoxo Tabi
Author: ipanicdaily
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: 3rd; Brendon-centric mostly
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own anyone/anything other than the plot. Italicized lyrics belong to Green Day. The title comes from the song, "Goodbye" by Secondhand Serenade.
Summary: So Brendon continues to lie to everyone for him. Ryan's fine; he's just tired. He's too hot or stressed from all the interviews. He's worried about their relationship being discovered. Anything but the truth.
Warning: Eating disorder, depression, angst, language
Beta: lilrainforest
Song: "21 Guns" by Green Day
Written For: madlax_devil_00
Word count: ~9,ooo words.
Author Notes: Written for 100 Song!fics challenge
Brendon pulled the blanket up over Ryan's body to keep the older boy warm, leaning into the bunk to kiss his forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby," he whispered, pushing Ryan's bangs back. He didn't think about the fact that it was the middle of summer and Ryan needed a blanket. Ryan always seemed cold; the slight shivering was probably from the air conditioner on the bus. It didn't bother anyone else but Ryan is practically nothing to begin with so the blanket was nothing.
Brendon couldn't convince himself of the lie though.
Standing up, Brendon pulled the curtain to Ryan's bunk shut to give him privacy before heading to the lounge area to watch a movie or something. He pushed the button to slide the door shut again, separating the two sections, smiling at his friends as he headed to the couch. "Ryan asleep?" Spencer quietly asked, laying his hand or cards down, pausing his game with Jon.
"Yeah," Brendon said, grabbing a DVD, not really caring what it was, and going to the little player. Anything was better than the blue screen reading 'searching signal' in small white lettering. "He'll probably be out a few hours at least." Brendon's voice was exhausted but hopeful.
"That's good," Jon said quietly. Brendon nodded and fell onto the couch with the remote in his hand. He was sweating a little in the heat; but Ryan needed that blanket or he would get sick. Brendon didn't know who he was kidding though; Ryan was already sick.
"Brendon, can we talk?" Spencer quietly asked, turning from the table towards his friend.
"Sure," Brendon said in an unusual monotone voice. Spencer shared a look with Jon who nodded, both leaving the table and joining Brendon on the couch. "I love you guys and all but it's a bit too hot for this," Brendon said, sandwiched between his friends.
"We're worried about Ryan." Jon got right to the point. Brendon started the movie, still not really sure what it was, staring at the screen across from him in the high corner. "Bren? Did you hear me?" Jon asked, slightly concerned about the young singer as well.
"You're worried about Ryan," Brendon said, eyes still glued to the screen. "That's nothing new."
"This is different." Spencer tried, staring at Brendon whose gaze didn't falter. "Ryan's been...different lately. Like his attitude and everything."
"It's hot out; you're not always the nicest person either when hot." Brendon remained monotone, which worried his friends because they could tell he was hiding something.
"So...you haven't noticed anything?" Jon asked and Brendon shook his head. "No mood swings or the random disappearing for like ten minutes at a time? Or the fact that he always looks tired?"
"Ryan doesn't sleep right and just because he's my boyfriend doesn't mean I trail after him everywhere to watch his every move." Brendon started to get annoyed with the two because he was tired and had to do an interview in the early morning. He just wanted some peace.
"Is Ryan doing drugs?" Spencer flat out asked and Brendon's breath caught in his throat for a moment as he turned to stare at Spencer. "If he is then we can get him the help he needs."
"You're seriously asking me if your best friend is on drugs?" Brendon's eyebrows pulled together. "No, he's not doing drugs. And even if he was, why the hell are you asking me? Ask him!"
"You know that Ryan would lie," Jon said. "And we're asking you because Ryan really only talks to you."
"So this is a jealousy thing?" Brendon turned to Jon now. "He's not talking to you so he's doing drugs?"
"Brendon; that's not what we meant and you know it," Spencer said firmly. "Something's not right with Ryan and we're concerned. We're asking you because we're hoping you know why he's changing so we can help him before it goes too far." Brendon rolled his eyes and stood up.
"Ryan's not changing; you're both paranoid." Brendon tossed the remote to the spot on the couch his butt previously resided on. "It's hot as fuck out and he's suffering from it like the rest of us. Ryan's not on drugs or whatever else you're going to pin on him. If he's your friend, start treating him like it." Brendon headed towards the bunks. "Next time you want to know something, ask him yourselves. He's never given you reason not to trust him before." Once there was enough space to slide through, Brendon entered the bunks and shut the door again; sighing heavily.
He still couldn't believe the lie. No way Spencer and Jon would.
Brendon checked on Ryan, frowning at the fact that he was slightly shivering again, and grabbed his blanket to cover his boyfriend up. "How much longer?" Brendon quietly asked, watching Ryan's peaceful sleeping face for a moment before shutting the curtain and climbing into his own bunk.
How much longer does he have to lie?
Do you know what's worth fighting for?
When it's not worth dying for?
Does it take your breath away
And you feel yourself suffocating?
"Sugary goodness!" Brendon chimed, happy to see the little breakfast arrangement set up for them at the place the interview was taking place in; Brendon and Ryan being the (yet again) lucky candidates to get up this early to do so. "And they say you can't have chocolate for breakfast." he scoffed, grabbing a donut.
"Like you need the sugar…" Ryan mumbled while rolling his eyes. Brendon stuck his tongue out at Ryan then took a bite of the donut, disposing of a third of it in one bite, chewing contently and watching Ryan. "You're going to end up on a sugar high then crash when we're supposed to be performing."
"I'm not going to get sugar high from one donut," Brendon said through his chewing. "You eat some." he extended the half eaten pastry towards Ryan, already deciding what he would indulge on next.
"I'm not hungry." Ryan declined, pushing Brendon's arm away. Brendon pouted and did it again, determined to get something into Ryan. "Brendon, I'm not hungry."
"I disagree," Brendon said while taking another bite of the donut. "If you don't eat then you'll pass out and I'll be very sad." he pouted, disposing of the remainder of the baked good. Ryan bit his lip, determined not to fall to Brendon's manipulative powers but that's near impossible. You can't say 'no' to Brendon's puppy-like pout or you're heartless.
"It's like eight in the morning," Ryan said, trying to distract his boyfriend. "We have an interview soon." Brendon ignored Ryan and grabbed a little donut hole, offering it to Ryan.
"Come on, Ryan," Brendon said in a ridiculously dorky voice. "I know you want to eat me!" He moved the donut some with his hands, implying it was talking to Ryan. "I'll give you lots of energy to annoy the fuck out of Brendon until lunch time!" Ryan couldn't help but smile. Brendon was a child trapped in a twenty-two year olds body. "I'm delicioussss!" Brendon near squeaked, dragging the word out. Ryan couldn't help himself and started laughing because Brendon could be really dorky at times.
Giving in with a sigh, Ryan opened his mouth, making Brendon's face illuminate as he stuck the little ball of fried dough inside, satisfied that Ryan ate something; even if that something practically amounted to nothing. Ryan had to convince his jaw to move, trying not to gag as he swallowed, accepting the offered drink without a problem. "Happy?" he asked Brendon who was amusing himself with the donut holes by giving them all voices which begged Brendon not to eat them.
Brendon stuck one in his mouth and nodded, stealing a kiss before anyone came in. Their relationship was sort of a secret. Brendon didn't care if people found out but Ryan did so he was careful about what he did and where. "Brendon!" Ryan frowned, wiping his mouth. Brendon shrugged and stole Ryan's juice. "I hope you get sick," he said, joking of course. A show without the singer wouldn't work too well. Ryan could sing, but 50% of people at shows came just to see Brendon.
"What would you do if it I did it again?" Brendon asked, smiling and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You don't want to know," Ryan said, wandering towards the wall to read over the posters. Someone came in to tell them it would only be a moment longer. Brendon decided he did want to know what Ryan would do so he set the cup down and followed Ryan, slipping his arms around Ryan's thin frame. "Brendon..." Ryan's tone was a little warning.
"Hmm?" Brendon hummed innocently.
"Let go of me," Ryan said, trying not to lean into the embrace; the warmth of Brendon. They weren't supposed to do this in public unless they were on a stage. They weren't those two from that My Chemical something band who just seemed to never get off each other.
"No," Brendon said, kissing Ryan's neck, making the older boy unintentionally shiver. Brendon felt it too but didn't say anything because the body randomly shivers. It's nothing. "It's fun thinking we can get caught."
"Not really," Ryan said, pulling Brendon's arms off him. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"Ryan;" Brendon instantly frowned, giving Ryan a pleading look. "We'll be in the interview in a minute."
"I won't be long." Ryan headed for the door.
"Please?" Brendon asked, giving Ryan even more of a pleading look.
"I have to pee," Ryan said a little harshly, pulling the door open. "I'll be back in five minutes tops." He disappeared leaving Brendon alone in the little room. Brendon sighed and fell onto a chair, rubbing his face. He knew what Ryan was really doing; even if Ryan thinks he had Brendon fooled.
Brendon loved Ryan and wanted him to be safe. Ryan said he loved Brendon too.
So why does Ryan keep lying, leaving Brendon to cover up the mess?
Does your pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide?
Did someone break your heart inside?
You're in ruins
Streams of white moonlight poked through the maroon curtains of the hotel room, dimly lighting the surrounding area. Brendon lay curled up on the bed, knees pulled towards his chest and eyes open, blinking tears onto his pillow. He could hear the forced gagging from the bathroom where Ryan had gone about ten minutes ago, thinking Brendon was asleep. Brendon hardly slept anymore though; he had become obsessed with listening to Ryan sleep. Just to know that he was still alive.
Sounds of splashing water drifted to Brendon's ears and he sniffled, lying to himself. Ryan ate something that didn't agree with him. Only, Ryan barely even eats. Brendon has to practically force-feed him and that only pisses Ryan off. A lot of things seem to piss Ryan off now. Everyone's beginning to notice; Zack, venue crew, even the fans. They all notice Ryan's changing. They all say its drugs. But Ryan Ross doesn't do drugs; he's better than that.
So Brendon continues to lie to everyone for him. Ryan's fine; he's just tired. He's too hot or stressed from all the interviews. He's worried about their relationship being discovered. Anything but the truth.
When the toilet flushes, Brendon lets out a quick sob that shakes his whole body momentarily; dousing the pillow in tears. He knows that Ryan's sick, that Ryan needs help, that Ryan's killing himself, but he can't say anything. Brendon only knows how to lie. That's why no one knows what he knows, though it gets harder not to break every day. Ryan's getting thinner, the guitarist's goal, and people are noticing; especially since Ryan was thin to begin with. But if asked what's wrong with Ryan, Brendon lies. He lies before he even realizes he's talking. Anything to protect Ryan.
Again, another lie. Brendon can't even fool himself anymore.
The water starts to run as Ryan cleans up, brushing his teeth, so Brendon buried his head in the pillow, taking quick gasps of breath until he silenced himself. He's watching his boyfriend die and isn't trying to stop it. All Brendon does is cover it up. And he says he loves Ryan. That's probably just another lie. If you love someone, you get them help; not let them kill themselves.
One, 21 guns;
Lay down your arms, give up the fight.
One, 21 guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky,
You and I
Brendon relaxed against the too-comfortable mattress as Ryan cleansed his mouth of the acidic bile inside his body. That was all he was throwing up; stomach acid. There was nothing else his body could expel. Soon he would do permanent damage to himself; irreversible damage. Soon he wouldn't be able to keep anything down; his body so used to rejecting it.
The water stopped and Brendon heard Ryan mutter a few words to himself, probably about being 'fat and ugly', making Brendon's chest tighten. Ryan certainly isn't fat and he's far from ugly; he's the most beautiful creature in all the world to Brendon. But convincing Ryan of that was futile. Brendon heard the light switch flick, Ryan quietly padding back to the bed. He needed some sleep and the hotel beds beat the bunks by a long shot.
Ryan carefully climbed onto the bed, stretching his legs out beneath the covers and lying down beside his boyfriend. He moved around a little, trying to get comfortable. Brendon wiped his eyes then turned over, wrapping an arm around Ryan's nonexistent waist. It felt that way, at least. "Sorry I woke you." Ryan whispered, turning to face Brendon. "I had to pee."
"I know," Brendon replied, trying not to gasp for air; an after effect of heavy crying.
"Go back to sleep," Ryan said as he pushed Brendon's bangs back. "You're warm; I hope my Brenny-Bear isn't getting sick." The strong smell of mint made Brendon want to cry. Evidence makes lying hard.
"I'm fine," Brendon said with a shaky smile. Ryan kissed his forehead then curled against Brendon for warmth; Brendon pulling the blanket up and hugging Ryan close.
Ryan needed Brendon's body heat for warmth because he had nothing left to his body to make his own. His bones were all too visible in the pale flesh that covered them.
When you're at the end of the road
And you've lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul
"Ryan?" Spencer frowned at his lifelong friend as they sat backstage; their opening band finishing up.
"Y-yeah?" Ryan asked, blinking his eyes a bit. His head really hurt.
"Are you okay?" Spencer asked with heavy concern, looking at the other two for help. Ryan nodded, rubbing his eyes and swaying a little where he stood. Brendon quickly grabbed Ryan's wrist and pulled him down to his lap, wrapping his arms loosely but securely around Ryan's waist. Ryan didn't argue or anything; just shut his eyes and leaned back against the stable body. "I think we should cancel."
"It's a little too late," Jon said, looking as concerned. "We go on in like five minutes."
"Not if Ryan can't-"
"I'm fine!" Ryan suddenly snapped at Spencer, making them all jump some. Ryan's never sounded that angry. "It's just...a headache..." he mumbled, rubbing his head.
"Ry," Brendon started cautiously, "You feel really warm and you can barely keep your balance. Maybe you should lay down this show...I can cover your parts mostly..." his heart rate was elevated because he was the most worried. He knew why Ryan was having problems.
And yet he continued to lie.
"Will you all just...leave me the fuck alone?!" Ryan practically yelled, trying to get away from Brendon but failing because he was too weak. Brendon was barely holding onto Ryan. "I can play..." he said quietly after, looking about ready to cry.
Jon brought him a bottle of water and extended it out. "Drink some of this," he said. Ryan took the bottle, his hand shaking, and tried to open it but couldn't. Brendon took the water and untwisted the cap, no one saying a word as he gave it back to the man on his lap. Ryan continued to lightly shake as he drank it, so Brendon rocked a bit to try and make it less noticeable.
But Spencer and Jon had already seen too much to be fooled anymore.
“You guys are on!” Someone suddenly popped in to announce. Spencer got up and helped Ryan from Brendon’s lap, all of them heading to the stage where the last of their equipment was being set up. Everyone but Ryan exchanged worried, nervous looks, silently agreeing they would keep the speech minimal so they could get Ryan off the stage as soon as possible. He needed medical attention but Ryan would never agree to that so they would have to do their best to care for him.
“I told you something wasn’t right,” Spencer said to Brendon as Ryan and Jon walked on stage.
“He probably got a cold and is over exhausted.” Brendon lied some more.
“You’re the one I can’t trust anymore, Urie.” Spencer wasn't buying it. “Whatever you’re hiding,” they started onto the stage as well, “is killing him.” Spencer parted to his drums while Brendon went for the microphone, watching Ryan closely. He looked like he was going to crumble beneath the weight of his guitar.
The lights were bright and warm, the crowd screaming uncontrollably as the curtains parted to reveal the band. Everyone fulfilled their roles perfectly. The band played, Brendon sang, and the backdrop matched whatever song was being belted out. The crowd did their part too; screamed between songs, clapped after them, and sang along during them.
They even all gasped when Ryan collapsed to the ground during the fifth song; completely silent for a whole two seconds before erupting in frightened screams and frantic whispers. Immediately, the crew and Spencer rushed to Ryan to make sure he was okay. Trying not to cry, Brendon gave the crowd one of his infamous lies before the curtain closed once more for privacy.
It was cruel that he was the one who got to ride in the ambulance when it was his entire fault.
Your faith walks on broken glass
And the hangover doesn’t pass
Nothing’s ever built to last
You’re in ruins
Brendon’s head was pressed against the glass of the window, staring down at the parking lot crowded with paparazzi and fans. They didn’t care that it was pouring; they only cared about Ryan. Some for monetary reasons, others just for the guitarist’s life. “He’s got an eating disorder and only weighs an astounding ninety-three pounds.” Brendon mumbled against the glass. “I knew the entire time, too. But I didn’t say anything.” His voice was masked with a cynical amusement to keep himself from crying. He was near ready to explode.
“Stop fucking blaming yourself,” Spencer said, slightly angered, sitting in a chair behind Brendon. “Ryan knew what he was doing to himself; he’s not retarded.”
“But I could have gotten him help!” Brendon spun around, his already puffy-red eyes holding tears again. “I’ve known for months but I’ve been lying instead of trying to help him! He almost died, Spencer!”
“I’m fucking aware of that!” Spencer snapped, looking stressed and frustrated. Drugs he could have believed because Ryan’s past blows, but an eating disorder was beyond even his thoughts.
“Both of you calm down or leave!” Jon intervened, sitting in the other chair in the room, which rested on the other side of Ryan. “We can’t change what happened; Ryan’s got some mentality problems obviously to have done this to himself.” Brendon cringed. “Fortunately, this is very curable so can we be happy about that and wait for Ryan to wake up?” Brendon and Spencer looked at each other apologetically, nodding. They were there for Ryan.
“He needs rehab,” Spencer said a few moments later. “He needs constant supervision and counseling.” Brendon looked at the bed, frowning at the sight of Ryan, small body laying beneath the covers, a variety of tubes and wires attached to him; monitors, an IV, and a variety of supplements to help his body from eating itself due to lack of substance. His throat was rather ripped up and he had a bit of bleeding in his stomach but like Jon said, it wasn’t disastrous as long as Ryan got help.
Ryan would need rehab. He would be evaluated by the hospital therapist and given how long he needs to attend counseling for his disorder until he learns to keep his food down. No one could trust him alone anymore; afraid he would shove his fingers down his throat. They barely even trusted Brendon anymore but he didn’t care. He could only lie.
“The tour will have to be canceled.” Spencer broke the silence that developed.
“Minor price for his life,” Brendon mumbled, leaning against the wall.
“I’m sure the fans will understand.” Jon quietly added, the other two nodding in agreement. “We all let this happen to him. Somehow we let Ryan believe that there really was something wrong with him.”
“Ryan never really liked how he looked,” Spencer said, eyes slightly glazed in memory. “He always said he was too thin though.”
“Can we please get the ‘he’s dead’ tone gone?” Brendon asked and they looked at him to see the singer on the verge of a panic attack. He knew and didn’t say anything; he almost let Ryan die. He was ready to freak out. Both Jon and Spencer got up, walking to Brendon and making a Brendon-sandwich with their bodies.
“He’s going to be just fine,” Jon whispered into Brendon’s ear, though loud enough for Spencer to hear.
“Ryan’s a stubborn person; he’ll get over this too.” Spencer added to try and calm Brendon down.
“I love him.” Brendon was crying once again.
And for once, he wasn’t lying.
One, 21 guns,
Lay down you arms, give up the fight.
One, 21 guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky
You and I
Ryan sat on the edge of the bed, knees pulled up as tight to his body as he could get them and arms wrapped completely around them; drowning in one of Brendon’s hoodies just to have that familiar comfort. Tears dripped from his eyelashes into the jeans he wore as the walls mocked him. He didn’t want to be in the little room as his friends talked to staff or tried to make it “comfortable” for him.
He didn’t want to be in rehab. Ryan was fully convinced he didn’t have a problem. But they threatened the band against him. If Ryan didn’t get help, there would be no more Panic at the Disco. And Ryan couldn’t do that; not to the fans if for no other reason.
Brendon sat on the bed beside Ryan and touched his back, Ryan wiping his eye along the rough fabric covering his knee as he turned his head away. He could lie to everyone, but only Brendon made him feel ashamed for doing so. “Hey,” Brendon said quietly, trying to be reassuring. “This is for your own good, Ry.” he rubbed large, slow circles on Ryan’s back; feeling the man’s spine through the cloth. Ryan didn’t say a word. Brendon sighed and shut his mouth, continuing in actions while Spencer talked with a counselor and Jon with Zack on the phone.
After a few minutes, Ryan abandoned his knees and turned to Brendon, wrapping his arms around the younger boy as tightly as he could; clinging to him. It was Ryan’s way of begging not to be left there as he cried into Brendon’s shoulder, breaking Brendon’s heart more than it was already shattered into. Brendon didn’t want to leave Ryan there, he wanted to take him away and just never let go, but Ryan needed to be here. He needed help; help that Brendon wasn’t strong enough to give him.
And that killed Brendon the most.
Spencer came back into the room, Ryan’s home for the next couple of weeks, Jon following close behind and shutting the door. Brendon faltered and looked at Spencer with a bit of a reconsidering look, but Spencer near glared back, silently telling Brendon that Ryan wasn’t getting out of this. They all agreed back in the hospital that this was best for Ryan because if it went any father, there wouldn’t be a Ryan Ross left to be friends with or be in a band in or be in love with. Brendon frowned and buried his face in Ryan’s hair, holding him close and rubbing his back still, waiting for one of the other two to speak.
“So, there’s something else we need to discuss.” Spencer was the one to speak, leaning back against the dresser holding Ryan’s clothes while Jon leaned against the wall, staring at the floor and arms crossed over his chest. Ryan continued to cling to Brendon now, nearly making the singer fall backwards on the bed as Ryan was practically in his lap, choking as he sobbed into the cloth of Brendon’s shirt.
“Ryan, you really need to calm down,” Jon quietly said. Brendon looked up to Jon, shaking his head a bit because Ryan needed to cry right now; he needed to let it out in the comfort of his friends, well boyfriend really, before he was alone in the foreign place. They all knew that Ryan would lock himself away for the first couple of days, maybe a week, refusing to talk to anyone.
“I…we…all think that…it would be best if…if we didn’t really come to see you until you’re better…” Spencer almost didn’t find his voice to speak, but he couldn’t just leave Ryan hanging. “We just…we want you to get better, Ryan, and we think that it’ll be easier if we’re not constantly around.”
“Please…” Ryan whispered into Brendon’s neck, choking a bit more on his tears. “I’m not s-sick…please d-don’t leave me…” Brendon took a deep inhale of oxygen and held it, shutting his eyes. He knew that Ryan was asking him; not Spencer and not Jon. He was asking Brendon not to leave him. “I-I’m fine…”
“No, Ryan, you’re not.” Brendon choked on his words a little, running his fingers through Ryan’s hair. “You have a problem and it’s killing you. The people here are going to help you.” Ryan made a little whining noise, losing his posture some and falling to a ball against Brendon. “If we’re not around then it’ll be easier for you to focus on getting better to get out.”
“B-but…I’m n-not sick…” Ryan clung to his ignorance. “I just…want to go…play and…” he choked some more, Brendon’s shirt clinging to his skin in wetness.
“Last time we tried that you collapsed,” Jon said from his spot. “We can’t risk your life like that.”
“I’m not…dying…” Ryan let go of Brendon and curled up around himself again.
“Ryan, you didn’t even weigh in the triple digits when they brought you in the hospital. You’re just barely in the hundreds now. You shake, you’re weak, you’re always cold, you’re pissed off one moment then perfectly content the next; you were wasting away.” Spencer was trying not to be harsh, but Ryan’s like his big brother and he couldn’t let anything happen to him again. “Even if you don’t want to believe it, you’re sick. And that’s why you’re here; to get better.”
“We can’t lose you, Ryan,” Brendon said, pushing Ryan’s hair back then gently stroking his face. “I can’t lose you,” he practically whispered after, hardly hanging on to tell himself that he didn’t need to start crying because he had to be as strong as he could for Ryan right now. Ryan was falling apart; no one really wants to be in rehab. But they created rehabs for people like Ryan who need that extra bit of help when their lives run off track. “It’s not forever anyway. All you have to do is attend your group every day and eat every meal without, you know, for a couple of weeks. There’s plenty for you to do and of course you have your guitar.” Brendon smiled his best attempt, trying to make the situation a little more pleasant.
“We’re doing this because we love you, Ryan.” Jon couldn’t even look up at Ryan, afraid that he would start crying. They all did that plenty enough in the past two weeks. Now it was Ryan’s turn; he got to cry while everyone else was his support. Only, everyone else was having a hard time being that support. It was tough having to leave Ryan in the foreign building without talking to him or seeing him every day but it was better for Ryan in the long run.
“Just get out…” Ryan whispered a bit harshly, crawling up the bed and grabbing the pillow from Brendon’s bunk that was being left with him. It smelt like the conditioner Brendon used because shampoo wasn’t enough. Conditioner kept his hair shiny and soft.
“Ryan…” Brendon started but really had no words to say that hadn’t already been said.
“Get out,” he said even harsher than before. Jon exhaled loudly and shook his head, opening the door and sliding out into the hall. Brendon looked to Spencer who just gave him a look of defeat because they tried and if Ryan didn’t want to help him, they couldn’t force him.
“You can always call us to talk,” Spencer said before following Jon out the door. Brendon watched them both leave, torn between what he should do because he wanted to follow them and be strong, to show Ryan that he agreed with the decisions they made, but when he looked at Ryan who seemed so small in the curled position, crying heavily into the pillow, he just wanted to stay.
Biting his lip, Brendon crawled up the bed and laid down next to Ryan, putting his arms around Ryan’s shaking body. He could stay a little longer, until Ryan calms down, because Ryan deserved that. He deserved to at least get used to the idea of being in the building by himself for about a month without being totally alone just yet. “I love you.” Brendon whispered to Ryan, shutting his eyes. “I love you and can’t stand seeing you hurting yourself like this.”
Ryan didn’t say a word back, but he slowly calmed down, falling asleep from wearing his body out. Brendon pulled the blanket over him and kissed his forehead before slipping out the door, hugging himself as he walked out of the rehab.
It was for Ryan’s good.
Did you try to live on your own
When you burned down the house and home?
Did you stand too close to the fire
Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone?
“Will you stop that?!” Spencer said with frustration, slapping Brendon’s hand yet again as he ripped bags of cheap candy open to dump into the large orange bowl. It was Halloween and even though he lived in a small apartment, having even less room now with Brendon temporarily staying with him, Spencer still expected trick-or-treaters and had to be ready. “The candy’s for tonight.”
“But I want it now.” Brendon frowned, using his pointer finger and thumb to carefully extract a lollipop from the mass selection all jumbled in front of him.
“Well you can’t have it,” Spencer said, snatching the lollipop back and throwing it into the bowl. “You need to go get ready anyway.” he tried dismissing Brendon from the sugary supply. Sugar is the last thing Brendon Urie needs; ever. Though, he hasn’t really been himself in the past couple of weeks.
Not since he had to be practically dragged away from the rehab they left Ryan at. Spencer literally stuck the child locks on the car and shoved Brendon in the back, preventing him from trying to run back.
“Meanie.” Brendon huffed, turning and heading towards the living room; three lollipops held behind his back, having been stolen when Spencer was distracted by the single one Brendon slowly removed. He fell over the arm of the couch, bouncing a bit on the cushions, and set his treasure on the coffee table.
“Get dressed!” Spencer called after the singer as though he was Brendon’s mother. If he didn’t act that way the Brendon would probably be facing a similar situation to Ryan; only his being unintentional. Brendon's just been lacking the willpower to basically live lately. Whenever he shut his eyes he sees Ryan’s pleading face, the tears streaming from his eyes, and can hear Ryan’s sobbing not to be left alone there. For the first week or two he had nightmares over it.
“I am dressed!” Brendon protested, grabbing the remote to try and find something on the television to watch. Normally Brendon would be all over Halloween, running about decorating and putting on the most extravagantly dorky costume ever, begging and pouting with Ryan or someone else to go with him to get candy, declaring the ‘age limit’ to trick-or-treating to be a conspiracy. But this year, Brendon just treated the day like any other that he’d been wasting at Spencer's; alone.
He wasn’t even allowed to visit his boyfriend on Ryan’s birthday.
“Pajama’s don’t count as being ‘dressed’,” Spencer said with some annoyance.
“Well I could go around naked.” Brendon answered, Spencer smiling at the fact that at least Brendon was able to get a light joke in every now and again. It was painful to watch Brendon change into practically the polar opposite of his former self, but he knew that Ryan was getting the help he needed. Honestly, Spencer was surprised Ryan didn’t just check himself out and show up at the door. “Jon’s seen me in my pajama’s before,” he said, flipping boredly through the channels. Jon had taken the ‘break’ to head back to Chicago to visit but was coming back to Vegas for a little Halloween celebration.
“My mom will be disappointed if she finds out she so nicely washed your clothes and you’re not wearing them.” Spencer ripped open the last of the bags of candy.
“My pajama’s are comfortable,” Brendon said as he grabbed one of the lollipops and yanked the little paper wrapping off, cramming it into his mouth. “I won’t tell her if you won’t.” his teeth scrapped along the candy as he spoke, moving it around some with his tongue, not even paying attention to the television as he changed the channels.
“You’re just being lazy.” Spencer joined Brendon in the living room when all the bags were in the trash, rolling his eyes at the fact that Brendon had still managed to obtain sugar. Brendon shrugged and pulled the lollipop out with a soft ‘pop’, licking his lips as Spencer lifted his legs to sit down; dropping them across his lap. It was easier than trying to Brendon to sit up or move. “Jon will be here any time.”
“Okay.” Brendon dismissed the statement, missing the hinting tone Spencer had woven in his voice. Spencer sighed and rested his head in his hand, propping his elbow on the arm of the couch and watching Brendon carelessly change the channel every five seconds. Well, he did until he practically screamed upon noticing that one of the on-demand channels was playing Aladdin. “Can we buy it?!” he instantly asked Spencer, face illuminated and eager.
“You have it on DVD in your room.” Spencer frowned, avoiding looking at Brendon.
“But that’s so far away!” Brendon whined. “They make on-demand to save you the hassle of such effort!”
“I’m not paying for a movie you own and have seen a million times when you can just get up and go get it from the bedroom.” Spencer remained firm so Brendon continued to whine.
“Please?!” Brendon pleaded, still whining and now bouncing slightly. He just didn’t feel like getting up. “Please Spin? It’s only,” he squinted at the screen, “$4.99 for the day! I have five dollars I can give you in one of the pairs of jeans in my room! Please?!”
“Fine!” Spencer gave in, already fed up with listening to Brendon whine. “We’ve only watched it practically every day for the past month.” he mumbled as Brendon typed in the code to order it. Spencer didn’t even want to know how Brendon already knew it. Just as the movie began to play, the door opened then shut, Spencer smiling wider than he should have to his friends return.
“Hi Jon!” Brendon called, sucking contently on the lollipop with a content look on his face. “We’re in the living room watching Aladdin!”
“Again,” Spencer said after. Brendon pulled the lollipop from his mouth to stick his tongue out, waving as Jon walked into the living room and stood beside the car. “I get forced to watch this every day.” he looked up to Jon for sympathy, the eldest of them laughing teasingly. “I don’t know why he’s so enthralled with the animated film that he’s seen more than his own face.”
“Because,” Brendon started with a sigh, rolling his eyes at having to explain yet again. “It’s-“
“His favorite movie.” Brendon’s eyes widened and he dropped the lollipop as well as the remote to the floor, jaw lowered some so his lips were parted. “I think Disney should sponsor him.”
“Ryan?” Brendon practically whispered, eyes glued to the form standing a little bit behind Jon, who, like Spencer, was smiling a little deviously. They had talked with Ryan’s counselors who said he was much better and that it was probably time for Ryan to head home if he wanted.
“You’re not in some ridiculous outfit.” Ryan frowned, tilting his head as he tried not to smile madly himself.
“Ryan!” Brendon screamed, scrambling to get off the couch, accidentally kicking Spencer in the face in the process. “It’s you!” he squealed as he shoved Jon aside (unintentionally) and threw his arms around Ryan, squeezing him to near suffocation. Ryan choked a bit, unable to move in Brendon’s iron-locked arms, watching as Spencer groaned on the couch with pain. “Ryan…” Brendon’s voice trailed off, his face buried in Ryan’s chest, unable to keep himself from crying.
“Bren…” Ryan half gasped, losing ability to breathe. “I can’t…really breathe…” Brendon loosened his grip just enough to allow a smooth flow of air through Ryan’s lungs, never wanting to actually let go. Jon helped Spencer up then exchanged a few glances, quietly leaving with Spencer to the other room to give the two privacy. Jon had time to catch up in the car and Spencer could wait; Brendon needed Ryan right now.
“I missed you…” Brendon whispered into Ryan’s clothes, twisting the back of his shirt some. “So fucking much.” Ryan smiled softly and managed to get his arms free to put around Brendon, holding him just as closely.
“I missed you too,” he said, laying his head on Brendon’s shoulder. “It was so hard being away from you.” Ryan suddenly felt a rush of tears come to his eyes, trying to hold them back, taking deep inhales of the scent which had worn off the hoodie and pillow after the first week or so.
“You’re warm and huggable again.” Brendon randomly said, loving that Ryan felt human again. He wasn’t as pale anymore and definitely wasn’t shaking. He was Ryan again. “I didn’t…It was so hard leaving you there…” Brendon coughed some, Ryan rubbing Brendon’s back to calm him.
“I was mad the first few days.” he admitted quietly. “But I realized you were right. I was sick and needed help.” It was painful for Ryan to say to Brendon, but he had to do it. He had six weeks to practice, well five by the time he got over his stubbornness, and he had to let Brendon hear it.
“And you’re all better?” Brendon lifted his head up to look at Ryan with teary brown eyes, a desperate, pleading, hopeful look on his face. Ryan smiled and nodded, kissing Brendon gently on the lips; both regaining the feeling that was nearly erased.
“I’m all better.” Ryan’s lips brushed against Brendon’s as he spoke, their faces still so close, before they ended up kissing some more. Brendon removed his arms from Ryan’s waist, ecstatic at the thought that Ryan actually had one again, and put them around Ryan’s neck to pull himself up some more since Ryan was just a tiny bit taller. "I did it for you." he whispered to Brendon between the light but needed and very satisfying kisses he had been longing for since the day they left him there.
"You did it for you," Brendon said in correction, laying his head on Ryan's shoulder for a moment and shutting his eyes, taking the scent and feel of his boyfriend in again.
"Well you were my inspiration," Ryan said as he lay his head on top of Brendon's because he didn't realize how much he needed and loved the younger man until they were separated like that. He didn't realize how sick he was until he didn't have Brendon around lying for him anymore. Ryan was forced to face the truth at rehab and it hurt to see how much he hurt his friends.
They stood like that for a few minutes, just taking each other in, Brendon calming himself away from crying before Jon and Spencer came back. Brendon pulled away from Ryan and wiped his eyes, smiling at his other friends who looked happy but out of place at the same time. "So..." Jon broke the developing silence with his hands in his pockets. "What do we want to do now?"
"It's Halloween," Brendon said, rolling his eyes and smiling. "There's only one thing to do."
"And that would be...?" Jon looked at him expectantly.
"Go trick-or-treating!" Brendon squealed, throwing his arms into the air. Ryan groaned but smiled, shaking his head lightly and sharing a look with Spencer as though to say, 'he'll never learn'. Spencer just smiled and watched as Brendon grabbed Ryan's hand, dragging him off towards the bedroom to make some sort of quick costume, happy to have both of his friends back. Not only was Ryan, but Brendon was too, and things were starting to look up again.
When it's time to live and let die
And you can't get another try
Something inside this heart has died
You're in ruins
In late November they picked up the tour again, wanting time alone together for a bit. Fans had learned about Ryan's problem, his rehab, and the scheduled shows were sold out before any of them even had a chance to realize where they were going. It was almost as though the past couple of months never even happened; Brendon was back to constantly being in everyone's space, Ryan was far less moody, and everyone knew better than to bring the ordeal up in front of the four. It was almost as though there was just a chunk of time missing in their lives.
Almost.
Brendon had learned within the first week of Ryan's return that his boyfriend had changed; but that was expected. Ryan went through a lot in a short amount of time. Ryan still hardly ate, not that he ever shoveled food down his throat before, but at least he didn't make up excuses every meal. He just sat with one or all of them, a rule they had unofficially decided, and consumed enough for everyone to leave him alone. Ryan was, after all, a small person.
"Why'd you do it?" Brendon asked one night when it they stopped a hotel for the night.
"Various reasons." Ryan shrugged, scribbling potential lyrics over a page in his notebook. Brendon was the only one who could get away with asking.
"Like what?" Brendon climbed onto the bed and lay next to Ryan, resting his head on the older boys shoulder. Ryan looked away from his paper and at Brendon with a slightly stern look to which Brendon frowned and looked at the words covering the paper. "I just want to make sure it doesn't happen again."
"It won't," Ryan said, a hint of apprehension in his voice. Brendon didn't notice. "I didn't suffer six weeks in that hell hole to land myself back." he became a bit bitter, looking back at his own work.
"These are kind of crude, Ry," Brendon said as he read over what Ryan had written so far.
"Well I have a different perspective now." Ryan responded as though it was nothing. But to Brendon, it wasn't nothing. Sure, the first album was a bit angsty, they were young and very hormonal still. Now though, everything was for the love of music and expression. What Ryan was writing was along the lines of 'emo' labeled bands that they were trying to separate themselves from. "It's not like we have to use them or anything." he mumbled.
"It's late; we should probably be heading to bed now." Brendon removed his head from Ryan's shoulder to lie back against the bed, the words burning against his brain. He tried to tell himself that they were nothing, that it was just taking Ryan time to adjust, but he wasn't convincing himself well.
"I'm not tired," Ryan said without removing his eyes or pen from his notebook. "I can leave if you want to sleep."
"Or you can just lay with me." Brendon suggested, his eyes holding that pouting-pleading look. Ryan didn't even look at him.
"It's ok, Bren," Ryan said as he slid off the bed. "I'll go see if Spin and Jon are up or something." He shut the notebook and started towards the door. Brendon wanted to stop him but the words just wouldn't come. This wasn't the Ryan he remembered from a year or so ago. "I'll be back later."
"I love you," Brendon said, sitting up and trying not to let his face express the hurt he suddenly felt.
"You too." Ryan gave Brendon a quick smile before sliding out of the room leaving Brendon all alone. Brendon wanted to say that he trusted Ryan to be alone, that the guitarist would indeed go to visit their other friend's room right next door for an hour or so, but he couldn't. After what happened last time, Brendon's trust in Ryan was little to none.
Even if he knew what Ryan was doing, Ryan never actually told him. And that hurt Brendon.
One, 21 guns,
Lay down your arms, give up the fight.
One, 21 guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky
It took Ryan promptly six months to relapse. Brendon could have done the math to find out the exact day and hour, to calculate exactly how long Ryan went without letting his eating disorder control him, because a problem like that never truly goes away, but he was too busy running a variety of dust-covered lies through his mind to find one suiting enough to try and cover up the mistake. He believed that it was just a slip, a temporary thing, or that Ryan actually was sick in a different kind of way.
He still couldn't convince himself.
It was on Valentine's Day that Brendon first noticed. As a couple, they spent the day together, avoiding cameras and discovery by choosing to stay inside their apartment. Brendon made breakfast, even if he's not the greatest cook, and Ryan managed to get down as much as he could to make his boyfriend smile. Not even ten minutes later, while Brendon was cleaning up, Ryan disappeared to the bathroom. But Brendon trusted Ryan, temporarily fooled himself into believing that Ryan wasn't doing what Brendon's mind said he was doing, and didn't mention it.
The sickening smell of mint surrounded Ryan when he came back. Brendon decided that he just sucked at cooking, he already knew this, and that Ryan just wanted the taste gone. It was just one small slip, Ryan had learned his lesson, and Brendon wasn't going to ruin their special day together.
Ryan wouldn't even let Brendon see him naked, not even shirtless, anymore.
By Brendon's birthday, it had gotten a lot worse again. Ryan had better control over it, choosing times when Brendon was too busy to stop him, and not even waiting for a bathroom anymore. Sometimes it was a trashcan or a back alley or, if dark enough, the middle of the street. It didn't matter to Ryan anymore. Even after six weeks of being tricked to lies, he knew who he really was, and he wasn't going to force himself to be anything else.
He was ugly, fat, disgusting; everyone lied at him to spare his feelings. If Ryan changed, they wouldn't have to lie to him, and they would find him to be beautiful. He didn't realize that he was destroying himself inside and outside.
Brendon leaned against the wood of the bathroom door, one hand wrapped around the frozen golden handle and the other tapping lightly on the door. "Ryan, please," he pleaded with tear filled eyes.
"Go away, Brendon," Ryan said a little bitterly. He sat on his knees in front of the toilet, hands gripping the white porcelain tightly and body shaking some as he forced himself to heave to empty his body. "I'm...almost done..."
"Stop doing this to yourself, Ryan!" Brendon shook the handle, not expecting it to be unlocked. Ryan wasn't even near the door. "You don't need to constantly force yourself to throw up!"
"Yes, I do!" Ryan half-yelled back. "I'm disgusting to look at and-"
"You're not disgusting, Ryan Ross!" Brendon sighed, having had this argument multiple times. "Please open up and let me help you? We'll find other ways for-"
"You can't help me, Brendon!" Ryan felt tears come to his own eyes. He hated arguing with Brendon, but he wished the younger man could see what he saw; what he felt. "This is who I am! I can't be changed!"
"This isn't who you are!" Brendon pressed his forehead against the door and shut his eyes. "You're a beautiful man who I love very much from the way you look to the way you act and talk and everything else. You're an amazing guitarist and lyricist and you can sing really well too! You're kind and funny and loving and not some disgusting monster that you keep making yourself out to be!" He hit his knuckled against the door, slowly dragging them down to meet his face. "You can get help." Brendon practically whispered, trying to think of other ways to get Ryan from this awful state of mind he enveloped himself into once again since apparently rehab didn't work.
"If you love me so much you'll understand!" Ryan began crying, really for no reason at all other than imbalanced hormones again. "You'll understand that I have to do this for myself! For us!"
"You're only killing yourself, Ryan!" Brendon got angry again, frustrated from pushing the truth off for too long. He wouldn't let Ryan get away with it this time. "You're killing yourself and it's killing me!" he heard Ryan throw up some more, no doubt from the heavy sobs the older man was emitting, and slid down the door until he sat on his knees. "Please let me help you, Ryan. We'll find something that actually works and we'll do whatever it takes to get you better for good this time."
"I told you; I can't be changed!" Ryan laughed dryly with his crying. "Just...leave me alone, okay?! I...I know what I'm doing and I'm not going to kill myself!" he threw up again, burning his throat more.
"Well you're killing me!" Brendon angrily shouted, drawing away from the door to wipe his eyes. "I can't stand seeing you wither away like this, Ryan! It starts with occasionally throwing up then it gets to you barely eat which makes you lose weight you don't have to begin with! Your eyes get all sunken and full of constant exhaustion, you're always cold, you get incredibly weak, and you're mood swings are almost unbearable! Do you know how many nights I've cried myself to sleep thinking about you dying?! Thinking about living without you?!" He punched the door hard with frustration. It only made Ryan cry more. He hated making Brendon upset, but he couldn't stop. "I let it nearly destroy you last time, Ryan, but I won't watch you die this time around! I'm done lying for you and trying to convince people that you're okay because you're not! You have a problem, Ryan, and you need help!"
"I don't fucking need help!" Ryan spat, choking and dropping down to his butt, his legs too tired to support him on his knees any longer. "And I never asked you to lie for me! I don't need you to cover up my life for me to make it look all perfect or anything, Brendon!" Ryan's whole body shook with anger, sobs, and slight chills. He hated what he became; but he couldn't change it. It was who he was now. "Now just leave me alone, okay?! I told you I'll be done in a minute!" Ryan coughed violently, little droplets of blood spraying onto his arm.
"Fine! I'll leave you alone!" Brendon shouted, getting off the floor and wiping his eyes again, yelling at the door. "This isn't the Ryan I fell in love with so if this is who you are now, you can find someone else to make sure you have god knows how many blankets on top of you to keep you warm or do the simplest of tasks like open a fucking water bottle when you're too weak to manage yourself because I can't take it anymore, Ryan! I can't take watching you wither away to nothing because you're too fucking stubborn to admit you have a problem or get yourself help! I'm done lying for you!" He kicked the door, feeling very overwhelmed with emotional pain. "If this is what you want to be then fine; do whatever you want. Just don't expect me at your funeral."
Ryan stared at the door, wincing when Brendon kicked it because the door actually came in a little, listening to the words come from his boyfriend's, well, probably ex-boyfriend's, mouth. He wanted to get up and unlock the door, to let Brendon hold him and tell him everything would be ok; that Ryan really could get help. He wanted to promise Brendon that he would change, that he would get proper help and prevent this from occurring again. He wanted to tell Brendon he loved him so much; but he couldn't. Ryan couldn't move away from the toilet, the fear of never being able to purge again freezing him in his spot. No matter how much he tried or wanted, Ryan would never overcome his eating disorder, and that was probably the most terrifying thing of all.
Brendon bit his lip harshly, drops of blood running down to his chin, as he repeatedly wiped his eyes and made his way to the door. He knew it was only a matter of days now until Ryan's body had taken too much damage to recover, and he knew there was no way he could watch Ryan die completely. He couldn't lie anymore to cover up what Ryan was doing because every lie haunted Brendon in his dreams. He couldn't lie awake to listen to Ryan heaving in the bathroom or cry himself dry when no one else was around about how in love he was with someone who had given up control over their own life.
He had to get out while he could, before it destroyed him completely as well.
Brendon grabbed his cellphone and keys, pulling the door open and stepping into the hall. "I love you," he whispered, looking back into the apartment with blurred vision from his heavy tears, "and that's what hurts the most."
One, 21 guns,
Lay down you arms, give up the fight.
One, 21 guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky,
You and I
A/N--- So yeah. I finally got it done. The ending fails, I know, I'm sorry.
For anyone who reads "Two Weeks In Hawaii", slashatthedisco is being really anal to me about accepting chapters suddenly so you might as well follow my journal for updates. I swear ch.3 will be up soon.
The "New Perspective" video fails. The Young Veins are done tracking (according to twitter) so yeah; can't wait <3
xoxo Tabi