Part 6 (BBB 2012)

[pinkichan]

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Sean tells them everything Charlie told him about the man. It’s not much, but it’s better that they’re all on the same page before this shit goes down. Around noon, Tom goes and gets lunch for them. Sean can barely eat. None of them are talking. He can’t stop thinking about Ryan, picturing him bound and gagged and trapped somewhere, wondering if they’ll come for him. It scares him to think he can’t just call Ryan, can’t just find him at Nick’s place or a bar and bring him here.

“We need to be able to defend ourselves,” Tom says shortly before they leave. The sun is dipping low and, by the time they get to the house, it’ll be dark enough to provide cover. Sean thinks about every bad action movie he’s ever watched, most of them with Ryan, and how, in all those movies, the average guy becomes an ass-kicking machine. That’s not them. Tom isn’t suddenly going to know how to do karate and Max how to make homemade bombs or some shit. They need to be realistic. This guy could be armed, probably is, so they need to be, too.

“Really, Tom? Because no one is going to think we're suspicious when you're carrying a fucking baseball bat around?”

Tom sets the bat against his shoulder. “I don't know about you, Max, but I don't plan on becoming one of Sean’s spirit buddies tonight.”

Max maps the address on his phone and they set out at dusk. Sean is scared. He’ll admit it because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. His life feels so removed from everything it should be. He and Max and Tom and Ryan should be recording; they should be focusing on their new album and planning shows, not being held hostage and going on vigilante missions to save each other.

“What we’re going to do is cause a distraction,” Max says. “If the guy is home, Tom and I will knock on his door and tell him we’re having car trouble and that our phones are dead. We’ll ask to use his. While we’re keeping him busy, Sean will try to find Ryan and the others.”

Sean nods from his spot in the backseat, tucked up with a crowbar and Tom’s baseball bat. There are a million ways this could go wrong. Their cover could be blown; the guy could attack Tom or Max. They don’t know what he’s like, what he looks like. The closer they get, the more this feels like it's a bad idea, but it’s for Ryan and Nick and the others that are being held against their will.

They get to the neighborhood. It’s night now, pitch-dark on the street the house is on, save for the dim streetlights on each corner. Tom flicks off the headlights and they drive past the house once. It’s stereotypical suburban, medium-sized with what looks like an upstairs and a basement. Even driving past the place makes Sean’s skin buzz with the same feeling he gets when the ghosts are around. Even if Charlie hadn’t known the exact house, Sean’s confident he could’ve found it just by feeling the amount of spiritual energy pouring off of it.

There are lights on in the house; the main window, the basement window, and an upstairs room all look like they have lights on. Tom circles around and stops the car a few houses down. “He can’t see you,” Tom says. “You’ll have to get out here and find a different way in.”

“Right,” Sean says. He slips from the car with the crowbar tucked into the sleeve of his jacket. He sneaks into the thick line of bushes that line each house in the neighborhood, the leaves rustling around him. He can hear himself breathing heavily, but he can’t think of anything except getting into the house. He trails around the back of the house two houses down from where Ryan and Nick are. The lights are all off in this one and Sean creeps around the back. There are no fences separating the yards, just the thick bushes creating a natural property line.

From where he’s standing two houses down, Sean can see the backyard of the man’s house. The closer he gets, the more he can feel the energy. He’s come to find that, if there’s a place where a lot of deaths happened or the people who died there had heavy emotions attached to them, it stays with the building, crackling the energy around it. Here, Sean can feel anger and fear and sorrow.

In the next yard, he can see when Max and Tom stop the car in front of the man’s house. Tom gets out and props the hood up. Sean’s heart is in his throat. Max joins him a few seconds later and they both pretend to be investigating under the hood. He moves to the next house, the psycho’s house, and there’s a back door behind the house, no windows except for the two basement windows on the side of the house.

Sean leans against the back of the house and waits until he hears the distant sound of knocking on the front door. He can’t breathe, can’t move. Why are they doing this? They should’ve called the fucking cops. All he can think about is hearing a fight or gunshots and then knowing he’s lost everyone important in his life in one blow. The door opens and he can see the square of light reach out into the street and three long shadows stretching towards the car. He can hear Max asking about a phone and the same voice that told Ryan and Charlie and Nick that they’d love their new family inviting Tom and Max inside.

He waits until the door closes and goes to the side of the house where the basement windows are, dropping to his knees in the damp grass, peering inside through the square of glass. The inside looks like a normal basement, shitty carpeting on the floor and concrete walls. There’s no one down here, or at least no one where he can see. Sean goes to the other side of the house, thankful for the heavy trees that hang over the part of the house, blanketing him in the dark. The other side of the basement doesn’t provide much. There are boxes down here, a washer and dryer, but then, in the very corner of the room, Sean thinks he can see what looks like the edge of a door.

He tries the window and it’s locked, so he goes to the other side and that’s locked, too. Breaking it seems like a bad idea and a last resort, so instead, he goes to try the back door. There are small cement steps that lead to the door and Sean is careful and quiet as he climbs them. He has no fucking idea where this door opens up to. It could very well be right where Max and Tom are using the phone and then they’d all be caught.

He reaches out carefully and tries the handle. It’s locked - of course it is. That means Sean has to break his way into the house. He goes back to the window, wondering how loud it would be if he broke the glass. He’s kneeling in the grass again, peering inside, when the air goes electric around him.

“You made it,” a voice behind Sean says. Sean whips to his feet faster than he ever has before. He’s got the crowbar in hand - except it’s not the man from the house; it’s not even a human. It’s Charlie.

“Why would you fucking do that?” Sean says. “I could’ve - ”

“What?” Charlie says with a small smile. “Killed me?”

“I don’t have time for ghost humor. I’m trying to get inside and save everyone without dying or getting anyone else killed.”

“I can help,” Charlie says.

Sean hadn’t thought of that. Finally, his power is coming in handy for something. “Do you know where they are?” Sean asks. “I thought they were in the basement but I don’t know where.” Charlie doesn’t answer. Sean turns to look at him, but he’s gone. When he turns back around, he sees Charlie in the basement, looking at him through the window. He blinks and Charlie is gone again, reappearing behind Sean once again.

“There’s a room in the back. It’s hidden, but that’s where he keeps them.”

“It has to be locked, otherwise everyone could get out.”

From one of the windows above him, Sean can hear Tom’s loud, fake laugh. He swallows carefully. “Charlie, where does this back door open up to?” Sean asks. Charlie is gone without answering and, a half-a-minute later, he’s back again.

“It opens up to the back of the kitchen. There’s another door straight from this one and through that door is the basement.”

“Okay, listen, can you go up to the top floor and cause some kind of ruckus? Do something that will cover the sound of me breaking the lock off this back door? Something that will make the man go upstairs to check it out?”

Charlie looks unsure, but he nods and then he’s gone. Sean crouches and makes his way to the back door. He steps up on the small porch and presses the crowbar to the handle. If he can bust it off, he can just push the door open and go from there. He waits with bated breath, hoping that Tom and Max can handle things on their end. He hopes he can do this.

Sean suddenly hears a loud booming sound from the top of the house. It sounds like things are falling. Sometimes, if a ghost has a strong enough energy, it can possess a non-living item. Charlie wouldn’t be able to touch human items otherwise, but he can go into the item and make it move, make it fall. Sean can hear murmured voices and the creaking of stairs and that’s when he takes the opportunity to hit the lock with the crowbar.

It’s harder than he thought, harder than it looks in the movies. The light upstairs flicks on and a square patch of light falls to the backyard, though it misses Sean. The sound of the crowbar on the handle is loud, though, and it’s at the point where he can’t turn back. He slams it again and again, channeling his anger into the strikes, all the frustration and pent-up rage he felt coming out until the lock loosens and then, with another hit, falls off.

Sean glances up at the window above him. He can see a face looking down at him, seemingly looking right into him. It isn’t Charlie and it isn’t Max or Tom. It’s him. He’s not sure if the psycho can see him or not, but it looks like he can, like the wheels are clicking into place. Sean throws his shoulder into the door and it bursts open. He doesn’t look up to see if the face is still in the window or not.

“Max! Tom! He saw me, he’s coming!” Sean shouts, though he doesn’t know where the other two are and if they can even hear them or if he just put them in more danger. Charlie was telling the truth because Sean is standing in a clean, white kitchen, a dark grey door in front of him that goes to the basement. He can hear footsteps above him. Sean tries to open the basement door, but that’s locked, too - thankfully, not by handle, but by a small hook at the top of the door. Sean practically tears it off the door and then wrenches the door open, taking the stairs as fast as he can without falling.

“Ryan?” Sean shouts, his voice echoing around him. “Ryan!”

The basement is bigger than it looked from outside, miscellaneous crap packed everywhere, and then, Sean hears feet above him again, pounding closer by, down here with him. “Sean?” He hears his name being called. He would recognize Ryan’s voice anywhere, even in this situation, where he’s running on all fear and adrenaline.

“Ryan!” Sean follows the sound of the banging and finds the room Charlie told him about. In his haste to the door, Sean knocks over a few boxes. They tumble behind him, spilling their contents across the floor. Sean gets to the door and tries the handle. “Ryan!”

“Who’s there?” Other voices say, voices Sean doesn’t know. “Help us! Please!”

“Sean, is that really you?” That’s Nick this time.

“Yeah, this goddamn door is locked.”

“There’s a key!” someone yells. “On top of the frame!”

Sean feels atop the door frame and there’s a heavy, old-fashioned key lying there. He grabs it just as he hears the basement door burst open. He has a feeling it isn’t Max and Tom. Sean fumbles with the key in his hurry to get the door open, but he finally fits it inside, unlocking it. He gets the door open and the first thing he sees are at least ten faces staring at him, blinking in the light, looking dirty and scared and more relieved than Sean’s ever seen anyone look before.

Right in the front is Ryan. He’s got a black eye, but otherwise, he looks no worse for the wear. Sean smiles at him because he can’t help it. Even though they’re still in danger, he can’t help but stop and smile at Ryan because he’s safe.

The reunion is short-lived, though, because the group turn their attention to Sean. “Are you with the police?” one of them asks. “Did you kill that man?” another yells.

“No, I - ”

“Why did you break into my house and who told you that you were allowed to see my family?” a voice asks. Sean turns around. He’s face-to-face with the man. He’s not at all what Sean was expecting - someone deranged-looking and maybe strong, someone you’d expect to be able to steal away the ones you love. This guy, though, just looks like anyone, like someone you’d see on the street or in a restaurant or, even more terrifying, someone at one of their shows. He’s young, probably no older than Sean. He’s shorter than Sean, but he’s got more muscle than him.

The people behind Sean let out scared noises, anguished sounds. “Sean,” Ryan breathes from behind him. Sean’s still got his crowbar. He doesn’t know where Max and Tom are, but this guy has a weapon of his own. He’s a holding a fire-poker in his hand and he brandishes it at Sean.

“These people aren’t your family,” Sean says, his voice shaking more than he likes. He holds his ground. “These are people you took, people whose lives you’ve ended or disrupted. That’s not a family.”

“They are mine. You can’t have them.” He raises his poker in the air.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, because you fucked with my family and you hurt people I love.”

The guy laughs at him and Sean grips his crowbar tighter. All he can think about right now is the fact that he can count the number of fights he's been in on one hand. The guy makes a move like he’s coming at Sean and Sean swings at him. It’s a bad move on his part because it leaves his arm open and it’s easy for the man to bring the poker down on Sean’s arm. He dodges enough to avoid getting his arm broken but, the pointed ends of the poker catches at Sean’s jacket sleeve, cutting in as Sean backs up.

Sean switches arms and then lashes out again, quicker than before. He’s got a whole group of people behind him, but none of them are armed. None of them are in any position to fight with their captor. It’s just Sean and this man. The man isn’t expecting Sean’s speed, so he stumbles backwards, close to the foot of the stairs.

The man is about to lunge at Sean, poker pointed straight at him, when Sean sees a baseball bat come out of nowhere and connect with the guy’s arm. He shouts in pain and surprise and drops the poker. Tom is standing there, bat still in his hands, looking every inch that Average Joe hero from the action movies. Tom swings again, aiming for what looks like his legs, but he misses, and - well, maybe Sean spoke too soon.

The man stumbles in his urgency to get away from Tom and his bat, which gives Tom another chance. He rushes off the landing and swings squarely at the man’s stomach, hitting him there and knocking him backwards so that he falls over the boxes that Sean had knocked down when he ran down here. With the man down, Sean and Tom both stand above him, weapons in hands.

Outside, there’s the sound of police sirens. Sean looks at Tom. “Did you guys call the cops?”

“Yeah, right after you broke the lock,” Max says as he comes down the stairs.

“Let’s get these people upstairs,” Tom says as he picks up the fire-poker.

“You can trust us,” Max says. “The police are coming. You’ll all get to go home.”

It all happens so fast that by the time Sean realizes that everything is going to be alright, it almost doesn't feel real. The guy that's evaded the police for so long was taken down by them? Just like that? He attributes it to luck, to something beyond his control. The ache in his arm calmly reminding him of how close to failure he came.

Slowly, the people being held captive emerge from the room; there are men and women, teenagers, and some people as old as Sean’s parents. All in all, he thinks he counts almost twenty people. Ryan doesn’t go upstairs; he stands with Sean and ignores the man on the floor who’s groaning in pain. He fell badly against the boxes and Sean’s pretty sure he’s broken his ankle by the looks of it. He doesn’t feel bad.

“I’m really confused about why the fuck you guys are here,” Nick says to Tom.

Tom curls an arm around Nick’s shoulders and smiles at him. “It’s a long story, but it’s also a story you wouldn’t even believe. Better to just accept this and move on.”

Tom takes Nick upstairs and then it’s just Ryan and Sean and the asshole on the ground. A strange thing happens, though. The air crackles around them again, and Sean looks up to see Charlie standing there - and not only him, but the girl from the paper and two other ghosts that Sean might have seen before, staring up at him from the street. They’re all in the basement and Sean knows these must be people who died at this man’s hands.

“Hey, asshole,” Sean says. He grabs the man’s arm, tugging him so that he rolls on his side. The man shouts in pain and, yeah, he probably hurt his ankle. “I want you to see what you did.” Sean says. He wraps his hand around the man’s wrist. Sean’s not sure he’ll understand at first, but he does soon enough, because the second the ghosts look at him, he begins screaming bloody murder.

“You hurt these people and now they’ll never rest. Every day for the rest of your life they’ll be there, watching you, making sure you’re never happy or at peace again, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop them,” Sean says. Whether it’s true or not, he doesn’t know - not all ghosts want to hang around, seeking vengeance on the person who killed them - but it scares the man, sets the same kind of fear in him that his victims must have had, that Sean had when he thought Ryan and Nick might be dead, and that’s what Sean was after. He wants him to feel one fraction of the fear that the people he took felt, that their families felt.

The cops arrive. They come downstairs to handcuff the man and the ghosts blink away one-by-one until they’re gone. “We have detectives upstairs that need to speak with you,” one of them tells Sean. He nods. He’ll go and explain what he can, but after the police take the man away, it’s just he and Ryan in the basement.

It’s strange because he’s so fucking happy to see him again - they’re alive and okay and he wants to forget everything else that happened and just pick up where they left off when they were good together.

“You found me,” Ryan says.

“I never would’ve stopped until I did.”

Ryan’s hands stroke Sean’s forearms, rest in the crooks of his elbows. There’s a lot to be said, but maybe right now isn’t the time for it. Sean leans down and pulls Ryan into a gentle hug. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if - ”

“You don’t have to worry about that now,” Ryan says into Sean’s shoulder.

For a few long minutes, they hold each other because they can, because they’re here and they’re safe. When Ryan pulls back, Sean notices a splotch of red. He touches Ryan’s hand and Ryan turns his palm over. His left hand is bloodied, but as far as Sean knows, Ryan isn’t bleeding.

“Sean,” Ryan says, “your arm.” Sean looks at his arm and sees the fabric of his jacket darkened with blood.

“He must have cut me,” Sean says. The cut isn’t bad, barely bleeding, but he and Ryan still go upstairs to get treatment from the paramedics and talk to the cops. When they get on the lawn, there are more cop cars parked around the place than Sean’s ever seen in his life. Max and Tom are already talking to police officers and there are medical staff looking at the people who were downstairs in the basement.

Sean has questions of his own, but he doesn’t think right now is a good time to ask them. Ryan ends up getting taken to the hospital for observation and they won’t let Sean go with him until he’s answered the questions they want him to answer. Tom winds up on the news, which he uses to plug the band, but in the end, Sean is sent to the hospital for the wound on his arm and all three of them are released some time after that.

Sean’s arm is fine, just needs to be cleaned and bandaged. He can’t do much with it until the cut has healed up. Ryan finds him at the hospital and comes into his room.

“How are you?” he asks.

“Just a minor flesh wound. What about you?”

“Slight bruising and dehydration,” Ryan says as he sits at the end of Sean’s hospital bed. “I don’t even think I can process what happened tonight.”

“It’ll take a while. I can’t believe half the shit that happened this month actually happened.”

Sean’s good hand is lying on the bed and he feels Ryan’s hand come to rest on top of it. He looks at their hands and then at Ryan. “You saved my life,” Ryan says.

“It wasn’t even a decision that needed to be made. As soon as I knew he had you, nothing would’ve stopped me.” Ryan smiles at him. Sean has missed that smile more than he knew. “Look,” he says. “I’m sorry for - ”

Ryan shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about that. Not right now.”

“Okay,” Sean says.

Instead of replying, Ryan leans forward across the bed, his hand cradling Sean’s stubble-rough jaw, and he kisses him. It’s soft, quiet, and just what Sean needs. He isn’t afraid and he doesn’t stop them. Not this time.

***
“Where do you want to go now?” Tom asks on the way back from the hospital. It’s well into the morning by the time they get out and none of them has had much sleep. Ryan and Sean are sitting together in the back of the rental car. Ryan looks at Sean and Sean smiles at him.

“Sean’s place,” Ryan says.

Tom must be tired because he doesn’t make a shitty remark - or maybe he’s just happy that all of them are back together again. Tom drops them off at Sean’s place and they walk upstairs together. “Are you hungry?” Sean asks.

“I’m tired.”

“Me, too. Let’s go sleep the next week away.”

Ryan laughs, but something on his face changes; he looks a little off. “I don’t really want to be alone right now. Can I... sleep in your room?”

“You don’t even need to ask, Ryan,” Sean says. He offers Ryan his good hand and leads him into his bedroom. Honestly, Sean doesn’t want to be alone, either, and he doesn’t want to let Ryan out of his sight. He only just got him back; he kind of just wants to hold him until it all feels real.

They both strip down to t-shirts and boxers and lie together in Sean’s bed. Ryan looks as worn out as Sean feels now that he’s in Sean’s bed. He’s got the black eye and bruises on his arms, one just under his tattoo. Sean wants to ask and know about what happened to him, but he isn’t going to. He’s going to wait until Ryan wants to talk about it.

Ryan’s hand finds Sean’s under the covers and he laces their fingers together. Sean rubs his thumb against the back of Ryan’s hand. Right now, it’s easy, and they’re both here, together. Eventually, they’ll have to talk about shit, about the band and what happened before he left it. It’ll need to be said, but not right now.

***
Nick invites them out to dinner a week later. It’s a week of Sean and Ryan sharing a bed, holding hands, and kissing, tentative and shy. It reminds him of when he was a teenager and just started dating for the first time. He likes it even though he doesn’t know what they’re doing; maybe they’re re-learning how to be around one another again, how to be together beyond just friends and the beginning of something Sean would like to call a relationship.

“Nick seems to have gotten over this whole thing pretty quick,” Tom says.

“Big surprise, he’s wearing his survivor status like a badge of honor,” Max says.

At dinner, Nick talks about how he was caught. “I was drinking,” Nick says. “He said he knew of this cool place he could get us into. I was way too blasted to drive, so he offered. I guess I’ll never do that again.”

The story is already in the papers, all over the news. Some of the fellow abductees are like Nick, eager to tell their stories. Ryan hasn’t said a word about what happened to him. Sean wants to know, but not enough to press the subject before its time.

It takes a few weeks for things to settle into the familiar. Sometimes, Ryan needs to sleep with the light on or can only sleep if he’s tucked back against Sean so that Sean’s knees are pressed into the backs of Ryan’s legs. This night is one of those nights. Ryan rolls on his back. Sean isn’t asleep yet, so he shifts so that they’re both laying comfortably, his hand on Ryan’s stomach. The idea is still surreal to him that he can have what he wants now. If Ryan will still take him, then he can have this.

Ryan turns his head on Sean’s pillow so that he can meet Sean’s eyes. “Sean?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry, you know, for not telling you that I wanted out of the band.”

Sean’s heart speeds up in his chest. He’s not sure he wants to talk about this even if it needs to be dealt with. “I’m sorry, too,” Sean says, “for a lot of things.”

Ryan’s hand finds Sean’s, his fingers brushing over Sean’s knuckles. “I want to come back,” Ryan says, “if you guys will still have me?”

“Ryan, of fucking course we’ll have you.” Sean props himself up so that he’s leaning on his elbow and looking down at Ryan. His eyes are perfect and worried. Sean wants to kiss the worry from him, take it all away forever. “You’re going to look like an asshole on Twitter when you say you’re back in the band, but you’re a part of us.”

Ryan laughs and Sean cups his jaw. Ryan ditching the band and then changing his mind might ruffle some feathers normally, but not in this case, with what they all just went through. Nothing sounds better than just being together as a collective. While Ryan was gone, Sean didn’t realize how much of himself was steadied by Ryan, how, without him, Sean feels lost, doesn’t feel like himself.

“Remember you asked me what I wanted before?” Sean asks. Ryan nods. “Well, I knew it then, but I was afraid to say it out loud, to admit it to anyone, especially you. I know it now and I’m sure about it, more sure than anything else I’ve ever felt. I’m not afraid anymore. I know it might be too late, but I still need to tell you that it’s you I want. I always have.”

Ryan laughs a little and then kisses him. “I fucking knew it.”

“I’m sorry I fucked up,” Sean says.

“We both did. We’re a fucking wreck.”

“We could be good together, though,” Sean says. He lies back on his pillow and looks at Ryan, who meets his gaze. “If you still want me, that is.”

“I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

“Max and Tom know - or they’re as close to knowing without us telling them.”

“And?”

“I don’t think they give a shit.”

Ryan laughs. “That sounds like them.”

For a moment, Sean and Ryan lie there in silence, both on their backs and both staring up at Sean’s ceiling. Honestly, Sean wouldn’t mind if this was a part of his life from now until the end. He wants Ryan to be a permanent fixture around the apartment; he wants the spare room to be a spare room; he wants to eat cereal in the dip of the couch with Ryan right next to him, watching shitty TV shows and arguing over music.

“Do you want to do this, then?” Sean asks, though he’s still looking at the ceiling.

“Do what?” Ryan asks. Sean can hear the amused tilt to his voice. He knows he probably knows what Sean is asking, but he’s going to make him say it anyway.

He rolls on his side, hands tucked under his face. He watches the soft rise and fall of Ryan’s chest. He looks for the bruises on Ryan's skin that have mostly faded, but Sean can still find the outlines, “Be in a relationship with me.”

Ryan smiles and sits himself up on his elbows. “Sean, are you asking me to be your boyfriend? Because you’re kind of shitty at it.”

“I never said I was good at this stuff.”

“If we do this, Sean, I’m gonna need to know you’re going to be here. You’re not going to be afraid and try to pull away from me again?”

Sean wraps his hand around Ryan’s wrist and tugs him down on to the bed. “Almost losing you once was enough for me.” Sean slides his hand over Ryan’s stubble-covered cheek and a smile blossoms under his palm. Sean loves Ryan’s smile. He loves all of him, really, but the smile is up there on the list.

“Then we can do this,” Ryan says.

They seal the deal with a kiss.

Dating Ryan isn’t much different than living with Ryan or being in a band with Ryan, it’s just better because now Sean can look at him and touch him and kiss him whenever he wants to. They jump back into the studio once all the business with the psycho - or ‘The Collector,’ as the media has dubbed him - is put to bed.

Max wants Sean to record the song he wrote about Ryan and he finally feels like it’s time to share it properly. They record it in the studio in one take. It’s the first time Ryan’s hearing the whole thing and Sean is almost afraid to look at him while he sings it. The feelings tied up in the words make his voice shake just a little. It’s not enough to really notice, but he thinks Ryan does, if the way he’s looking at him through the glass of the microphone booth has anything to do with it.

Ross is watching them record. The snow has just started to fall in Chicago, light right now, but Ross is already shivering like they’re in the middle of a blizzard all the time. He’s getting ready to go back to California for the holidays and Tom is going with him until after Christmas.

“Try not to self-destruct without me, guys,” Tom says after practice. “I’ll send you sunshine to keep you warm.”

“You’re not leaving for three more days, Tom, shut the hell up,” Max grumps.

“Don’t let him drown or anything,” Ryan tells Ross.

After they record their songs for the day, the last songs they’ll record until after Tom gets back, Sean and Ryan go back to their apartment. They’ve kind of unofficially moved in together; nothing changes except Ryan’s clothes are tucked into Sean’s dresser and that type of shampoo he likes is in Sean’s bathroom.

Things in his life fall back into place after being so unsettled for so long. He has Ryan, and even the ghosts return to him after their absence. Sean tries to handle them without involving Ryan, little shit he can do on his own to help them. Sometimes, though, Ryan asks about them, and sometimes, he’s lying against Sean when one of them shows up asking for help. He doesn’t get very upset anymore - maybe because the ghosts are what helped save him before, maybe because he knows that this will always be a part of Sean, something that comes along with him, and he wants Sean more than he dislikes the ghosts.

“Are you happy?” Ryan asks in bed one night. His hands are at the back of Sean’s neck, tickling the hair there.

Sean leans down to kiss him, firm, sure, pushing every inch of his love into the kiss so that Ryan can have it and keep it with him. “I’ve never been happier.” Even though they’ve known each other for years and they’ve seen each other in all stages of undress, they’re still learning the other’s body. Sean fucking loves it. He loves finding out Ryan’s favorite way to kiss, where he likes to be bit at on his neck, what he looks like when he’s coming. Sean’s memorized it all, but there are a million more things he wants to see and know and explore.

Just like on the couch, they sag together into the center of the bed. Sean kisses Ryan again because it’s his new favorite thing to do. He’s got his hands on Ryan’s face, tracing his cheekbones, his stubble-covered jaw, the hallow of his eye where he once hosted a bruise. He rolls on top of Ryan; he wants to try something. He takes Ryan’s hands and moves them above his head. He holds his arms down again, like the first time they kissed on the couch. He’s watching Ryan’s face for a sign that he doesn’t like it, doesn’t want this, but his eyes darken and he bites his lip. Sean kisses him harder, squeezing at his wrists at the same time, and they both must like that - or so Sean is guessing by the way Ryan moans into his mouth.

They haven’t fucked yet, but it’s okay. Sean likes kissing him, likes getting him off any way that he’s allowed to do it. Ryan opens his legs and Sean slips between them. He can feel Ryan hard against his thigh, so Sean sneaks one hand down between them to brush over Ryan’s bulge through his sleep pants. Ryan’s hips push up against Sean’s hand, trying for more friction. Sean tucks his face into Ryan’s neck.

“Tell me what you want,” he says.

There’s a flush on Ryan’s cheeks and Sean kisses him there before he kisses his mouth again.

“Will you blow me?” Ryan asks. “I want you to - fuck, I want your mouth.”

Sean goes back to Ryan’s neck and finds that little pulse point that Ryan likes, biting him there just a little, just enough to have him rocking his hips up against Sean. He kneels between Ryan’s legs and reaches out to pull his sleep pants down to his knees. Ryan lifts his hips to help him get them down and then there’s no barrier between Sean and Ryan’s cock.

Ryan is already hard and leaking; he sneaks a hand down to touch himself because he can’t wait for Sean. That’s fine with Sean because he likes watching. He likes seeing Ryan with his hand curled around his dick and stroking himself slow, rubbing his thumb over the slick head. Sean bites his lip and Ryan’s hips twitch to meet his hand.

“Don’t be greedy,” Sean says, knocking Ryan’s hands away. Ryan makes a shivery, disappointed sound, but it melts into a groan because Sean’s hand takes its place. He likes how responsive Ryan is; he acts like he’s never been touched before - and he hasn’t, at least not by Sean’s hands. He strokes him faster than Ryan had been touching himself and Ryan rewards him by panting loudly into the quiet of the room.

“Everything about you is fucking beautiful,” Sean says. He adjusts so that he’s lying between Ryan’s legs. He kisses his thigh and bites the soft, pale skin there before wrapping his hand just under the head of Ryan’s cock and closing his mouth around the head. Ryan hisses. Sean lays an arm across his hips because Ryan is twitchy and Sean doesn’t want to choke.

Ryan tastes good, even here. Sean moans and Ryan mimics him. His hand finds Sean’s head and threads calloused fingers into his hair. He doesn’t push or pull, just pets the strands of Sean’s hair through his fingertips and bites his lip, breathing heavily out of his nose, eyes heated and locked on Sean. Looking at Ryan while he blows him - fuck, it’s hot. Sean is hard, too, and his hips edge against the mattress. He’s not getting much friction, but this, right now, isn’t about him. He’s confident that Ryan will take care of him in the end.

Sean takes him lower, watching Ryan all the while. “Sean,” Ryan says. “God, you don’t know how you look right now. You look so good like this.” If Sean thought he liked Ryan’s normal voice, it’s nothing compared to how much he likes his sex voice. At this point, Sean thinks maybe he could come just from how Ryan sounds when he’s having his cock sucked.

Sean pulls off for a moment and Ryan moans his disappointment, his fingers tightening in Sean’s hair and pressing him back down. “Hang on,” Sean says. “I need to wet my hand.” He licks his palm sloppy and fast, spits into it when his tongue isn’t working. He’s dizzy because his hand tastes like Ryan, too, the same salty tang.

He touches Ryan’s cock again and the slide is easier now, slicker with the spit. Ryan drops his head back against the pillow. Sean wishes he had asked Ryan to take off his shirt because he wants to see the way the flush is creeping across his chest and up his neck. “Isn’t that better?” Sean asks.

“Fuck,” Ryan hisses.

Sean lowers his mouth back on to Ryan’s dick, sinking lower than before. “Fuck, Sean, shit.”

God, Sean wants to touch himself so fucking badly when Ryan sounds like this. It makes it better that he’s the one who’s doing this to him, ramping him up, making his toes curl with just his mouth. He’s not sure how long it’s been since Ryan got off before he and Sean started fucking, but it’s been a long fucking time for Sean and he’s hard as fuck in his pants. He gets one hand down to his own pants, just cradling his cock for a moment, but he loses himself for a second, drops even lower on Ryan’s cock, his head brushing the back of Sean’s throat. He doesn’t gag, but Ryan practically shouts and his fingers tighten almost painful in Sean’s hair.

He tries to keep the pace steady after that, sucking hard and wet and fast. He wants to see Ryan get there. Ryan is rocking up against the arm Sean has over his hips, searching for more, and Sean digs his fingers into Ryan’s hipbone lightly. Ryan’s getting all gasp-y and his cock is twitching in Sean’s mouth. Sean thinks he’s close, so he pulls back up to suck on the head. He presses the point of his tongue to the same spot just under the head of his dick that Ryan touched himself at earlier and that’s it. Ryan moans and Sean holds him down as he comes in Sean’s mouth.

He doesn’t pull off right away, even though the heat in his body is unbearable and all he wants to do is fucking come right now. He swallows Ryan’s come and then mouths at his cock. Ryan is shivering, breathing harsh, and Sean doesn’t pull off until he feels Ryan start to soften when the pressure of his mouth must be too much to take.

“Come here, please,” Ryan says. Sean crawls to him, Ryan’s hand curling around his shoulder, tugging him down so that they can kiss. Ryan moans into the kiss and there’s yet another thing Sean learns about Ryan: he likes tasting himself mixed with Sean. “Let me get you off,” he says when they break their kiss, his mouth flicking over his shiny lips.

Sean nods and Ryan tugs his pants down. Sean is seriously on fucking edge. “Just jerk me off. I want to come, fuck,” Sean says. Ryan leans up to kiss him again as his hand curls around Sean’s cock.

Ryan’s hand is rougher than Sean’s own, but he likes it, the calluses on his fingertips, the scars from the beatings his hands suffer…he can feel them and it’s just another reminder that these are Ryan’s hands, this is Ryan touching him. Even though all Sean asked for was Ryan’s hands, he still gets Ryan’s tongue licking around his hand, wetting Sean’s dick as he strokes it.

Sean can’t breathe, can barely watch Ryan like this. There are hot splinters of pleasure buzzing at his spine and his mind is empty except for the repetition of Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. It’s so good - anything from Ryan is good, but Sean can’t stop himself from chasing Ryan’s movements, fucking into his hand.

He hears Ryan laugh and then feels the soft bite of teeth digging into his hip. Sean’s hips jerk. “Shit, Ryan.” Ryan smiles up at him and strokes Sean faster, his grip tight but not in a painful way, in a way that makes Sean’s knees go weak. “I need to - ”

“Come on, then,” Ryan says, never ceasing his movement. “Come for me, Sean.”

All it takes is a few more strokes and then he’s coming on Ryan’s hand, his cheek, his neck. Ryan pays back the earlier favor and doesn’t let go right away. He squeezes Sean’s cock and strokes him once, twice, milking his dick for all he has. When he’s got come pearling at the tip of Sean’s dick, he licks it away.

“You’re going to fucking kill me doing shit like that,” Sean says. He sags down boneless in the bed, his head all fuzzy from coming. He can feel Ryan moving, but he’s lost to the moment and to whatever Ryan is doing. When he cracks his eyes open, Ryan is leaning over him, fucking smiling at him. It should be illegal for him to smile like that with Sean’s come on his face.

Sean has the persistent urge to pull Ryan into his lap and clean the come off of him, but Ryan is already taking off his shirt and wiping his hands and face off before tossing it aside. They’re both sweaty and sticky, but Sean still lets Ryan curl up next to him in bed. He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want Ryan to go anywhere.

“I love you,” Ryan says, kissing Sean’s collarbone, his eyes closed and lashes long against his cheeks.

“I love you, too,” Sean says, kissing Ryan on his forehead. He’s never meant anything more in his entire life.

***The next day, Tom asks Sean and Ryan to drive him and his Ryan to the airport. Tom’s an asshole because it snowed a lot overnight and now they’ve got to go out in near-knee-deep snow while Tom’s on his way to clear sunny skies and constant beach weather.

“I’ll bring back souvenirs!” Tom promises as he slams the trunk of Ryan’s car closed.

“Good ones,” Sean says. The fat, wet flakes of snow stick to his face and hair with the chilly wind that’s coming at them. “No bobble heads or key chains.”

“Or snow globes,” Ryan adds from the passenger seat once Tom and Sean crawl inside the car. Sean is driving and Tom and Ross are tucked in the backseat.

“Only the best for you boys,” Ross says, his voice muffled from the thick scarf that’s wrapped around his face. He’s dressed like he’s preparing to explore the Arctic or something.

Tom slides an arm around Ross’ shoulders and draws him closer. “I’m getting you out of here just in time. I’m pretty sure you’d die here otherwise.”

“Man was not meant to live in this weather,” Ross says.

The drive to the airport isn't too long, made a little longer with the bad weather and holiday traffic. Sean’s still kind of surprised that Tom is leaving. He’s rarely out of the city for the holidays and he and Ross haven’t been dating all that long. He peeks at them in the rearview mirror - Ross has settled his head against Tom’s shoulder and Tom’s got this dopey smile on his face. It’s all too much; Sean has to fight down the laugh that wants to escape him. Tom’s got it bad, clearly, and Ross is no better. When Sean turns to glance at his Ryan, though, he thinks maybe he gets it then.

“You two are idiots for wanting to fly during the busiest season of the year,” Ryan says once they arrive at the airport. It’s packed. Of course it is. It always is around the holidays.

Tom ignores him and he and Sean unload the luggage from the trunk while Ross goes to check in at the front desk.

“I guess things between you two are pretty good?” Sean asks.

Tom looks at him through the wet tangle of his hair and nods. “Yeah, it’s a lot better these days.”

“You’re not worried about you-know-who?”

“Listen,” Tom says. “I love Jon. I do. He’s family at this point, but I’m not giving Ryan up without a fight.”

“How romantic,” Sean says.

Tom flips him off and nods towards their Ryan, who’s coming back to help with the luggage. “Don't tell me you don’t know what I mean.”

Sean smiles. “No, I do.”

Tom laughs. “Good. I was starting to think you’d never sort your shit out.”

Sean shoves lightly at Tom, who playfully punches him back. Even though it’s only for a short time, Sean will still miss him. The three of them meet up with Ross inside the airport and then find the right gate after getting everything settled. Their flight time is pretty close, moved up because the weather has temporarily cleared up, so they don’t have to hang around too long.

“I’ll Skype with you on your birthday,” Tom tells Sean as he tugs him in for a hug.

“So you can rub in how much warmer you are? How kind of you.”

Tom laughs and pushes Sean away so that he can pull Ryan in. Ross comes over to Sean and, though Sean didn’t know him well when he first arrived and still doesn’t know him as much as he could, he knows that Ross is a good guy and he’s good for Tom - that’s what’s important. Sean is pretty sad to see him go. Ross tries to give him a handshake, but Sean gives him a hug instead.

Right before Tom boards the plane, he stops to give Sean and Ryan a salute. They all need a bit of time to recharge their batteries. Sean is genuinely happy that Tom is happy.

The snow has calmed down to a light smattering as Ryan and Sean walk back to his car. They both climb inside the car. Ryan reaches over to brush off the flakes sticking to Sean’s coat. Sean smiles at him and starts the car. He’s about to back out when Ryan's hand finds his wrist.

“Sean, wait,” Ryan says.

“Okay. Is something wrong? We didn't forget anything, did we?”

“No, I just - let’s just sit here a minute.”

Sean nods and puts his hands on the wheel. They’re parked in a way so that they can see the planes in the back of the airport. One of the planes belongs to Tom and Ross. “Okay, is everything alright?”

Ryan takes a deep breath, but he nods. “Yeah, I kind of want to tell you something.”

“Oh, well, whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that.”

Ryan nods. “I know. That’s why I know that I want to tell you this first.” Ryan's voice is weird, tight, and honestly, it scares Sean. He’s buried himself pretty deep into the happy mood of his life as of late and he’s not ready to move away from that just yet.

“What is it?” Sean asks when Ryan hasn’t spoken up.

“I wanted to tell you about the night I was kidnapped.”

Oh. “Oh,” Sean says. “Okay. I want you to know, though, if you’re not ready, you don’t have to. I can wait for you.” He wasn’t expecting this. He’s wanted to know, but now that the time is here, he’s not sure he wants it all drudged up again.

In the end, he knows it needs to be said. Sean needs to accept that this is a part of Ryan now, just like Ryan accepted the part of Sean that he doesn’t exactly care for. Ryan is looking straight ahead, out the snow-flecked windshield. Without the wipers on, the snow is covering it, slowly blotting out the planes in front of them in a sea of white.

“I was looking for Nick,” Ryan says. “I remembered pieces of the cases I’d heard on the news. I remembered what you and I had talked about and I went looking around for hints as to where he might have gotten Nick.”

Ryan quiets for a moment, like maybe he expects Sean to berate him for doing something so stupid. Sean won’t say shit, though. God knows his decisions haven’t been sparkling examples of good ideas. When Ryan is sure Sean isn’t going to start bitching at him, he takes a deep breath and keeps going.

“I went to that park, the place where the girl died, and I thought he wouldn’t come back there, honestly, because she had died there and wouldn’t the cops think to look there for if he came back? I guess I was wrong on both counts, though. There were no cops, only me and him.”

Sean’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. Even though the man was caught, it doesn’t stop pissing him off that he was able to do this at all.

“He told me that he didn’t want to hurt me,” Ryan says, his voice a rough whisper. When Sean looks at him, his eyes are far away, staring straight ahead. “And before I could run, he was already grabbing me. I fought him off - that’s how I got the bruises,” Ryan says, motioning to his face and arms. “He hit me with something. I don't know. I passed out after that and, when I woke up, I was already in the backseat of his car, all tied up.”

Sean wants to stop this, in a way. He doesn’t want to make Ryan repeat what happened to him, doesn’t want him to go back and relive the moments again. He doesn’t even want to picture that same Ryan he found that night in the Collector’s house.

“Ryan,” he says.

Ryan looks at him. “I'm okay, Sean. I think I need to talk about it now. I’ve been thinking about it ever since it happened and I just…I can’t carry it on my own anymore.”

Sean knows that feeling. He knows it well. He reaches across the space of the car and takes Ryan’s hand in his own, rubbing his thumb against the back of Ryan’s hand. Ryan looks at their hands and then at Sean. He smiles - it reaches all the way to his eyes and Sean worries a little less after that.

“After that, it felt like we drove forever. I was so scared. I thought I was going to die and I thought about how I’d left everything between you and I and the band. I just wanted another chance to make things right again. It was all I could think about. And then he stops driving and blindfolds me and takes me in his house, leads me downstairs, and puts me in that goddamn room. And then he’s gone, but not before welcoming me to his ‘family.’ Then the first voice I hear is Nick’s.”

Sean doesn’t know shit about psychology, but he thinks it’s good that Ryan is talking about it, that he can open up to Sean about it, even though sitting in a car in an airport parking lot wasn’t exactly how Sean pictured it.

“I was lucky, I guess, lucky that I hadn’t been there as long as some of the others. That room was too small for all of us, too hot, and no one could leave or bathe and he only brought food once a day. At least I had found Nick…that was good. In a weird way, that guy got what he wanted. The people in that room had to create a sort of community - they were a family, brought together by their mutual hatred of that fucking psycho.”

“The important thing is that you're safe now, they all are, and that guy is locked away.”

Ryan nods. “It helps to know that he’s not skulking around.”

Sean raises Ryan’s hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of his hand. Ryan looks at him and smiles. It isn’t as strong as before he told Sean about his experience, but Sean thinks he'll be okay. They’ll be better for it in the long run.

He starts the car and takes Ryan out for lunch at his favorite place. After they eat, they go back to their apartment, get out of their snow-damp clothes, and crawl back into bed.

“I like this apartment way more now that I’m a part of the warm bedroom,” Ryan says. He presses his still-cold nose against Sean’s neck.

Sean wraps the blankets tighter around the two of them and slides his cold foot in against Ryan’s leg. Ryan jerks a little and bites at Sean’s shoulder while Sean laughs.

They’ve come so far and been through so much. Sean has almost lost Ryan more than once. He can’t believe he’s even here now, where he’s at least settled and content, and most importantly, with Ryan. When he thinks about it, he knows he'd still take everything that had happened, the good and the bad, because it meant he still got there in the end. He still has Ryan and he’s still making music. That's all he’s ever really wanted.

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