I'm A Scar Away From Falling Apart (17)
Title: I’m A Scar Away From Falling Apart (17)
Author: longerthanwedo
Beta: melody_so_sweet <3
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 1st, Brendon’s
Summary: This is bad. I don’t know how it happened, but I know. This is really fucking bad.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, but the beginning of this plot is based off of a true story. Title belongs to Fall Out Boy.
Author’s Notes: Just…I like this chapter ;) Comments, as always, are awesome!
Prologue I Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10 I Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16
I know something’s wrong the moment that Ryan opens the door.
There’s something off, something weird about the expression on his face, the set of his jaw and the slump in his shoulders. But he’s home, and that’s what matters, because I was beginning to worry.
I tell him that and he only looks up for a second, eyes meeting mine and darting away again. I move forward to kiss him, but he turns his head away from me, and my lips barely even make contact with his cheek before he’s brushing past.
He moves fast like he wants to get away from me as quickly as possible, and he stumbles in the process, his steps off-count and jerky.
That’s when I notice the sweatshirt that’s tied tight around his leg. Around his injured leg. Shit.
I run and catch up with him, taking his shoulders in my hands and turning him to face me. He keeps his head hung low, hiding behind his hair, and when I move it back I see his eyes; red and flooded with water.
“Ry?”
A tear escapes and rolls down his cheek, stopping at the corner of his mouth.
“Ryan, are you okay?” I reach out and wipe the tear away from his face, and he flinches away from my touch as if it hurts him. I try again, and this time I hook a finger under his chin and pull his face up so that he has no choice but to meet my gaze.
His bottom lip is trembling, and he bites it, trying once again to escape my hold.
“Ryan. What happened to you?” I whisper softly, staring into his eyes and trying to figure it out.
And that’s when he collapses. Just falls forward into me, loud harsh sobs tearing from his throat. I catch him in my arms, somehow managing to stumble backward and lay him on the couch. He turns his face away from me then, face pressed into the pillow and still crying.
My eyes move to his leg, and I reach down and untie the sweater and. It’s wet. It’s fucking soaked, and my hands come away covered in red. Oh, no. Nonono.
My breath comes in fast gulps, and I pull the jacket the rest of the way off in one quick motion. Ryan moans loudly and I don’t hold back a curse.
This is bad. I don’t know how it happened, but I know. This is really fucking bad.
I pick up the phone with shaking hands. 9-1-1. An ambulance is on its way.
The ambulance is way too slow.
I don’t know what to do except run my hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him in any way I can. But when the ambulance comes I let them take over. I stand on the sidelines as they load him onto a gurney. My mouth is hanging open and I still can’t really comprehend this; how could this happen?
How did this happen to him?
I get in my car and follow Ryan to the hospital. Back to the hospital.
And it’s like a rerun in my head, a terrible déjà-vu, but somehow it’s even worse than the first time because this time Ryan means so much more to me and that makes me so much more terrified.
I sit in the same plastic chairs in the same waiting room in the same hospital with different people, but they look the same to me. And I’m the same nervous wreck.
But when the nurse calls me back to Ryan’s room some time later it’s different, and it’s better, because this time when I walk in Ryan’s awake, and he smiles a tiny bit as I come up to the bed. He smiles, but a second later he looks away.
I kneel down next to him, and the door shuts behind the nurse, leaving us alone.
“Ryan-“ I start, but he still has his head tilted towards the sheets, and I can’t talk to him like this.
“Ryan, look at me, please,” I plead, touching my hand lightly to his hair. He doesn’t. “Please? Please, please, please…"
He does.
And, oh, his honey colored eyes are so big and so sad, and if I didn’t know better I’d say they were guilty.
“What happened to you?” I keep my voice soft, just in case.
“I-“ he starts, but breaks off when his eyes fill with tears. He blinks them away furiously and starts again. “I… it was me. It was my fault, I-I was stupid. God, I can’t believe it…” he trails off and shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with his hands.
I take his hand in mine and smooth circles into his palm with my fingers while I wait for him to continue.
“I did… I went. It was really fucking stupid, and now everything’s ruined, and I…” he chokes off again and I don’t know what I can do so I just keep his hand and try to make him relax.
Several minutes pass and he still doesn’t talk.
Finally I brush his cheek and ask, “Ry?”
He meets my eyes and they’re so sad and so guilty and I just can’t imagine what he could do to get himself this worked up.
“I went skating.”
And, oh, oh, now it makes sense.
“I was just… I just got so frustrated and I couldn’t. I couldn’t take it anymore and I went and I thought I could do it, but I couldn’t. Brendon, I couldn’t. And now its worse and it’s all my fault.” The words spill out of his mouth in a rush, and he takes a breath, but I can tell he’s not finished yet.
“I’m so sorry, Brendon. I’m sorry I did this, I just. I didn’t want to make you worry, because it’s not your fault, but I did, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he finishes and his cheeks are wet with tears that I wipe off as they fall.
“Ryan, don’t worry about me. Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything.” Well, he did do something, but that’s not the point.
He shakes his head and he’s still not looking at me, and I hate seeing him like this.
“Baby, hey, no.” I move his face up again. “Look at me, I’m fine. We’re fine.”
I kiss another tear away from his cheek. It makes me want to cry.
“Brendon?”
I pull away and look in Ryan’s eyes. “Yeah?”
He looks down and back up, and I can see him swallow.
“What?”
“I love you.” The words are soft and his eyes are still shining, but he’s smiling a little and my heart just melts. I smile, wide, and brush my fingers through the ends of his hair.
“I love you, too.” And I do.
Of course I do.