Love Is A Battlefield (3/3) Joncer, Ryden, NC-17
Title: Love Is A Battlefield
Author: silver_etoile
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Spencer/Jon
POV: Third
Disclaimer: Again, boys were not alive during this time period. It's all a falsity.
Summary: AU. It was 1944 and the war had been raging for a good three years, even more for the European countries. Millions of people had died. Thousands of people had already passed through the sterile white walls of his tent, passed through the blinding white sheets of the cots that stood in rows like mini-coffins, just a tour-stop on the way to death. Dr. Walker's only hope is that he'll never see a white gauze bandage ever again.
A/N: The last chapter! :] Enjoy.
Reread: 1, 2
*
"Maybe this wasn’t a good idea."
Spencer rolled his eyes and pushed Ryan through the door to the little make-shift dance hall. Really, it was an open-air porch that had been draped in red and blue fabric over the railings. The porch was already milling with soldiers in their uniforms and nurses in pretty dresses rather than their usual white uniforms.
A swing band was set up at one end and were playing a jazzy tune that a few people were already dancing to.
"Just relax, Ry," Spencer muttered in his ear as he shoved him forward. "Urie asked you to come. He obviously likes you."
"Oh yeah?" Ryan snapped. "And where’s Dr. Walker? Shouldn’t he be escorting you?"
Spencer just lifted up his head. "He didn’t say he was coming exactly, but I know he will."
"And how do you know that?"
"I just do."
Ryan rolled his eyes and followed Spencer over to a table with a punch bowl. He stood nervously as more people arrived. His eyes shot to the stairs to the porch every time another head appeared there.
"Stop looking so damn scared," Spencer muttered, handing him a cup of punch.
Ryan sighed and forced his eyes from the stairs. "I’m just nervous."
Spencer shook his head. "Of your night in shining armor? Don’t worry. I’m sure he got all ginned up just for you."
Ryan rolled his eyes and took a drink, only to choke on it a minute later as Brendon arrived, looking clean-cut and dashing in a military suit. It was a requirement that all doctors have them.
His face lit up as he caught sight of Ryan and he smiled as he maneuvered his way through the crowd to him.
"Hi," he greeted Ryan once he reached him.
"Hi," Ryan replied, biting his lower lip.
Brendon just smiled, gazing at him for a second. Then he seemed to notice Spencer and turned to him. "Smith. Good to see you out."
Spencer nodded. "Dr. Walker said I was healthy enough to come tonight."
"That’s good," Brendon commented. He paused, glancing at Ryan. "Mind if I steal Ross away for a minute?"
"Be my guest." Spencer gestured and Brendon smiled, taking Ryan’s wrist and gently leading him away.
Brendon pulled Ryan past the dancers to the other side. "I’m glad you came."
"Me too," Ryan replied quietly as they stopped near the entrance to the stairs.
"Do you like dancing?" Brendon asked, glancing at the few couples swinging around the floor.
Ryan shrugged. "I’m not really good at it."
"Yeah, me neither," Brendon said, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck.
Ryan nodded, at a loss for what to say. They stared out at the dance floor for a few more minutes until Brendon shifted nervously beside Ryan.
"Do you want to take a walk?"
"But we just got here. And it’s a dance and there’s punch and stuff…"
Brendon just stared at Ryan pleadingly.
"Yeah, sure. A walk sounds good."
Brendon smiled, taking Ryan’s hand and leading him down the steps and into the dark night. The ground was lighted by the moonlight and lingering lights from the dance floor.
Ryan and Brendon strolled through the edge of the jungle until they pushed out onto the beach which was bathed in milky moonlight and stars that twinkled high above them.
They didn’t say anything for a while as they walked, listening to the sound of the dance behind them and the crash of the waves on the shore.
"Brendon." Ryan finally broke the silence as they walked hand in hand along the shore. "I’m glad you asked me to come tonight."
Brendon turned to Ryan, his face pale in the moonlight. "The night’s barely started."
Ryan shrugged. "I just feel… happy. So thanks."
Brendon smiled. "No problem."
Ryan blinked and fell silent, smiling at his feet as he walked. Brendon walked close to him, their hands clasped together. They stopped suddenly, though, as they reached a little section of the beach.
"What?" Brendon asked as Ryan pulled him to a stop.
Ryan just smiled, turning to him and inching closer. "I just want to tell you that…" He paused, hesitating for a second. "I-I like you."
Brendon stared at him, Ryan growing nervous under his stare.
"I-I mean, you’re really nice and you’ve been helping a lot. Spencer, you’ve been helping Spencer a lot. If you don’t… I mean. I didn’t really mean-"
Brendon cut Ryan off suddenly with a kiss, pulling him forward quickly, his hands on Ryan’s jaw as he kissed him hard. Their lips melded together, their tongues pressed together. It was a mess of lips and teeth and tongues, all searching for control.
Brendon was surprised when Ryan stumbled back into a grove of palm trees sheltered from view of the beach. Their lips never parted, though, a desperate need filling them as they fell onto the ground, Brendon on top of Ryan.
Ryan’s fingers were quick, hastily unbuttoning Brendon’s coat, the one that he’d painstakingly donned earlier that evening. The jacket was off within seconds along with the shirt and Ryan’s fingers were on Brendon’s chest, his back, pressing into the warm flesh as they kissed desperately.
Ryan’s gasp was lost to the crashing waves on the beach beyond as Brendon’s lips moved to his neck, licking, biting, sucking at the pale skin. His hands were on Ryan’s slacks, quickly shoving the zipper down and his hand underneath.
Ryan’s back arched as Brendon’s fingers wrapped around his already half-hard cock and gave it a few swift pumps, bringing it to full attention. Ryan bit down on his lip hard as he groaned, his hips thrusting upward into Brendon’s hand.
Ryan’s mouth searched for Brendon’s, finally finding his lips and pressing a messy kiss to them. Brendon responded hard, biting at Ryan’s lower lip and pouring all the emotions he could find into the kiss. His hand momentarily stilled until Ryan’s whimper brought his focus back.
Quickly, Brendon pushed the pants off all the way, struggling out of his own. He was surprised, though, as Ryan rolled them over, straddling Brendon’s hips and smiling down at him.
He took a moment to press a sweet kiss to Brendon’s lips, pulling away to whisper, "What are my orders, Sir?"
Brendon groaned, gasping as Ryan’s hips rubbed against his torturously. It wasn’t like he got much of this being out on an island in the middle of nowhere.
"Fuck me," he gasped, his hips surging upward for more burning friction. "Please, Ryan, fuck me."
"I can do that," Ryan breathed, moving to position himself and Brendon better.
It wasn’t as uncomfortable as Brendon would have thought, out on a beach with sand everywhere. He was surprised when Ryan slid a wet finger inside him, slick with saliva and not quite wet enough. It felt good, though, as Ryan thrust the finger inside, crooking it and searching for the right spot.
Brendon was biting his lip and groaning as Ryan’s fingers moved. He could feel the blood pounding in his cock already and was more than ready.
Ryan removed his fingers slowly and moved swiftly, pressing his cock past the tight muscles of Brendon’s body. The heat was intense and throbbed around him, sending shivers up his spine as he began to move.
Brendon moaned beneath Ryan, his fingers tight around Ryan’s forearms, pressing bruises into the skin. Ryan didn’t seem to mind, only thrust harder, pushing Brendon to the edge, until he was a mess of words and feelings.
"Ry-Ryan," he gasped, opening his eyes and staring up at Ryan, whose head was tilted back as he moved harder, rocking their bodies together.
Ryan looked down, his mouth open as he panted for breath, then leaned down and kissed Brendon hard. "I really really like you," he panted against his lips, sliding down and pressing a kiss to Brendon’s neck.
Brendon gasped sharply as Ryan changed angle and hit the spot that had stars exploding before his eyes.
Their moans and gasps were lost in the rushing water and distant sound of swing music.
Brendon’s back arched as he came and his mouth hung open in a sharp pant as a rush of white obscured his vision. He never understood why Jon hated white. It was a wonderful color. His hands were tight around Ryan’s arms and he didn’t release them until he could open his eyes and stare at the dark canopy of trees around them.
Ryan didn’t take long until he was climaxing as well, driving hard into Brendon’s body until his hips stopped jerking and he managed to roll off before collapsing onto the soft bed of palm tree leaves.
Their staggered breaths evened out slowly as they lay on the ground, listening to the crashing ocean waves.
Brendon was the first to speak, turning to Ryan. "I really really like you too."
Ryan smiled softly in the dark and slid his arm over Brendon’s shoulder as Brendon leaned in, pressing a kiss to his jaw. Brendon sighed happily, snuggling closer to Ryan and pressing his face against his hair.
They lay there for a long time after, listening to the sounds of the ball and the lull of the sea.
**
Jon lingered at the bottom of the stairs, trying to silently talk himself into going into the ball. He greeted a few nurses and soldiers that passed, but otherwise, remained resolutely at the bottom of the stairs.
Finally, after ten minutes of arguing with himself, he climbed the stairs onto the porch.
The band was in full swing and a lot of couples were on the dance floor, swinging around in red-patterned dresses and clean uniforms. There was a lot of laughter, and for a minute, Jon didn’t feel like he was part of a war.
Glancing around the room, he found Spencer almost immediately. He was loitering around the punchbowl, looking awkward with only one arm. He caught sight of Jon, though, and his face lit into a smile.
Taking a breath, Jon smiled and approached Spencer.
Spencer grinned as Jon got closer. "Fancy seeing you here."
Jon shrugged. "I thought I’d give it a looksie. See if it was any good."
Spencer nodded seriously, his eyes glinting mischievously. "What’s the verdict?"
Jon glanced around. "It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever been to."
Spencer laughed. "I don’t suppose you dance?"
"Not really." Jon frowned, laughing slightly. "I leave that to the girls."
Spencer just smiled and glanced at the couples on the dance floor.
Jon looked around. "Where’s Urie and Ross?"
"They left a while ago to take a walk," Spencer replied, smirking.
Jon just shook his head.
Spencer watched him carefully for a minute. "Do you like walks?"
"Better than I like dancing," Jon joked.
"Want to go on one?"
Jon paused, trying to listen to his brain and his heart at the same time. Eventually, neither won out. "Yeah, sure."
Spencer nodded happily, leading the way across the porch and down the stairs. They didn’t head for the beach, but instead meandered through the maze of white tents.
Jon didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t even really sure why he was there. Spencer walked quietly beside him, kicking the leaves with his feet.
"Can I ask you something, Sir?" Spencer said after a while.
"Go ahead."
"How long have you been here?"
"About two years." Jon paused. "I started out training in Europe, on the battlefields, but they moved me pretty quick down here."
"Is it better out here than over there?"
"It’s quieter," Jon said slowly. "It’s a little easier to manage since we’re only on the island."
"Why’d you get transferred?"
Jon was silent for a minute, staring at the dark ground that spread out before them. "I saw something that, well, it kind of made me go a little crazy. And they thought I shouldn’t stay there."
"What did you see?" Spencer asked quietly.
Jon sighed. "My best friend, Tom. He was killed right in front of me in France, and I couldn’t save him."
Spencer was silent, but his hand searched for Jon’s, clasping their fingers together. Jon paused, his mind flashing back to that day. It had been cloudy and grey, threatening rain, when they’d plunged through the French territory, helmets and rifles at the ready. They hadn’t seen it coming. A blaze of gunfire, shouting, screaming, cries of dying soldiers. Blood running through his hands and dripping onto the glistening leaves.
Jon shook his head sharply and looked at Spencer.
Spencer was watching him carefully and when he looked over, took a step closer, sliding a hand up to Jon’s jaw.
"I’m sorry," he murmured, resting his forehead against Jon’s.
Jon let out a small breath and closed his eyes for a second. "Every war has its casualties."
Spencer only nodded softly, tilting his head upward and meeting Jon’s lips in a tender kiss.
It only lasted a second, but Jon’s mouth quirked into a smile as they pulled apart and they leaned against each other.
"Thank you."
Spencer smiled, brushing his thumb over Jon’s cheek. "It’s no problem."
**
"Smith says you and Ross disappeared tonight and you were gone for a long time."
Brendon grinned in the dark.
"Ryan is amazing."
Jon laughed softly. "Smith isn’t too bad himself."
Brendon sat up, staring at Jon. "Did you kiss him?"
Jon just smiled. "Maybe."
Brendon lay back down. "I’ll just take that as a yes."
Jon didn’t reply, only turned over and fell asleep that night with a smile on his face.
**
Spencer’s arm was completely healed three days later. The gauze came off and Jon disposed of it with relish. Spencer’s arm didn’t look fantastic, but it was healed and in perfect working order, minus the lack of a left hand.
Spencer was finally allowed to leave the medical tent and go room with Ryan. He was given a cot right next to him and Jon was happy to see Spencer so happy. He knew it wouldn’t last, though. Now that he was healed, it was only a matter of time before they would be moved out again.
He worried for Brendon, who seemed to have grown quite attached to Ryan in the short month they’d known each other.
The planes came every few days, picking up and dropping off more soldiers. It would be Spencer and Ryan’s turn next. Jon knew it would be soon.
He tried not to get too attached to Spencer, but he knew he was falling. There was something about Spencer that made him believe in the happy ending, two kids and white-picket fence kind of ending.
It wouldn’t be long, though, and he knew it. Soldiers who’d come in with Ryan and Spencer were getting sent out. He saw it every other day. The lists would come. They would be sent off to different islands, different countries. Jon doubted he would ever see them again.
Jon was right. A week after the ball, a plane arrived with a new general and a new list of names.
"Casper, Hill, Johnson, Ross, Smith, Schneider, Tyke, Williams."
Brendon was there with Ryan, holding tightly onto his hand.
"I wish you didn’t have to go," he whispered as their packs were thrown unceremoniously into the truck.
Ryan looked as sad as Brendon felt. "Me too. But I signed up. I have to do my duty."
"But what if you don’t come back?" Brendon’s eyes were pleading, wishing for things he couldn’t have.
Ryan shook his head. "I don’t know. I don’t know what’ll happen."
Brendon felt tears welling up in his eyes, but bit them back as he pulled Ryan into a hug. "Please, don’t die," he whispered against his neck. "Just don’t. The war’ll be over soon."
Ryan nodded as best he could, pressed against Brendon’s shoulder. "I’ll try."
Brendon sniffed back his tears and pulled away, staring at Ryan sadly. "Ryan," he said as Ryan turned to leave.
"Yeah, Bren?"
"I-I think I love you."
Ryan stared for a minute before pulling Brendon to him and kissing him hard. Brendon clung tightly as though afraid to let him go. Finally, he pulled away, tears leaking silently down his face. "I love you too."
Brendon watched helplessly as Ryan finally turned and walked away, his fingers falling from Brendon’s as he left, glancing back at the door to the plane and smiling sadly. Then he was gone and Brendon stood next to the towering palm tree, feeling smaller than the ants on its trunk.
Down a little ways, Jon stood with Spencer. He took a breath and tried to smile.
"You’ll be fine," he assured him. "Just, don’t turn up here with another missing arm, okay?"
Spencer nodded, staring at Jon. "Dr. Walker, I’m gonna miss you."
Jon laughed sadly. "You can call me Jon."
Spencer tried to smile but it fell flat. "Jon, I’m going to miss you."
Jon nodded. "Me too."
"A lot."
"A lot." Jon sighed and glanced at the general, who was shouting for everyone to board the plane. "Looks like you’ve got to go."
Spencer looked back too, his lower lip starting to tremble. He stopped it, though, and turned to Jon. "I won’t forget you."
Jon shook his head. "Me neither. Now, go, or you’ll get left behind."
Spencer quirked a smile. "That might not be so bad."
Jon laughed slightly. "You’d be in a lot of trouble."
Spencer sighed. "I guess." He paused. "Maybe I’ll see you again." He looked like he was going to cry, but instead, pressed a kiss to Jon’s lips and turned, heading for the plane and disappearing inside.
Jon stood watching the plane until Brendon ambled up beside him, resting his head on his shoulder. Jon didn’t say anything, merely slid an arm around Brendon’s shoulder and held him close.
**
One Year Later
Brendon sighed as he glanced around the clean hospital room. Beds were full of injured soldiers, though no wounds were fatal. Nurses in white caps and uniforms hurried back and forth with trays of medicine and shots. Out the towering window of the hospital room, San Diego spread before them and Brendon could catch a glimpse of the Pacific Ocean if he looked hard enough.
A hand clapped Brendon on the shoulder and he jumped only slightly.
"Dr. Walker," he said once he turned to the scruffy-looking man beside him.
Jon wore his doctor’s coat and his beard looked scratchy as though he’d forgotten to shave it that morning.
"Urie." Jon nodded to Brendon. "What’s the status?"
"Everything’s fine, doctor. There’s a new boat coming in this afternoon from the South Pacific. People seem glad the war is over."
"’Course they’re glad," Jon muttered. "Aren’t you happy to be back in the states?"
Brendon nodded, his expression somber. He paused a second before leaning into Jon. "Do you ever think about him?"
Jon didn’t reply, but turned around to look out the window at the street below. "Urie, prepare for the boat. Make sure there are enough beds ready and that the nurses are prepared."
"Yes, Sir," Brendon muttered, slowly leaving Jon standing by the window.
Jon stared downward but his eyes didn’t seem to take in any of the scenery. It had been a year since Spencer had stepped onto that plane with Ryan and flown off to God knows where. He hadn’t heard a word of his battalion. It wasn’t as though he could write to Spencer. So he’d been waiting, hoping that someday, he might meet Spencer again, although he doubted it would ever happen.
Jon sighed as he saw an army truck pull up to the hospital door with the first of the new arrivals. He wondered how many would die after making it back home to safety.
The doors opened and the emergency patients were rushed in. Jon watched as Brendon gave orders and set about working on patients.
Brendon had become a full-fledged doctor not long after Ryan’s departure. He still stuck close to Jon, though, thinking of him as a mentor. Jon had confidence that Brendon would make a fine doctor once he calmed down and learned to focus completely. He was getting much better.
Crossing the room, Jon joined Brendon, directing more nurses to help the bleeding soldiers. They were in the trauma ward, so it wasn’t much different than it had been out on the island. Except now, Jon had an actual apartment to go home to instead of a miniscule cot surrounded by waving palm trees and soaking heat.
Carefully, Jon stitched up a bleeding soldier and reassured him that he would be fine. Patting the wound clean, Jon wondered how much longer he could go on like this.
He never told Brendon, but he thought of Spencer daily. He thought about his pretty blue eyes, the softness of his lips, his rich laugh. Thinking of it made his heart ache some days.
He knew Brendon thought of Ryan. He talked about him constantly. Jon didn’t have the heart to tell Brendon that it was likely Ryan never made it back. He hadn’t wanted to crush Brendon’s dream of the white-picket fence and fluffy dog waiting to greet him. In his heart, though, he knew it was doubtful that Ryan would ever come back, let alone show up where Brendon was. It was a huge country after all.
The first waved ceased and the punctured calm resumed. Jon finished cleaning a soldier’s wound and went to wash his hands of the blood. Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he thought he looked terrible. He hadn’t been sleeping well and it showed. His hair was scruffy and he’d get in trouble with the commanding officers if he wasn’t careful.
Splashing water in his face, he tried to gather himself and went back to the open room full of hospital beds and bustling nurses. Brendon was leaning over a soldier, but rose as he caught sight of Jon.
"Dr. Walker," he said as he approached. "There’s something I need to tell y-"
"Does it have to do with surgery, Urie?"
"Well, no, but-"
"Then I don’t want to hear it." Jon turned away to look at the window again, seeing more trucks pulling up, this time with regular soldiers, probably fresh off the sea and ready for a check up before they were officially released and sent home. Jon wondered how many would be glad to get home.
Brendon’s face fell slightly and he turned away, once more leaving Jon by the window and going over to check a patient.
He smiled cheerfully at the man whose fingers were missing. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I want to fucking rip your head off, but I can’t because I have no fingers!" the man growled and Brendon took a step back.
"All right. Well, the nurse will be back to give you a pain killer later." Brendon smiled and backed away, letting out a breath as he turned away.
Rubbing his forehead, he sighed and glanced around the room. Everything was white, just as Jon always hated. It was starting to grow on Brendon as well now. Hesitating for a minute, he made a quick decision and took off for the bathroom, finally shutting himself in a stall and staring at the avocado green door before his emotions took over and he broke down into tears, sliding onto the toilet seat and burying his face in his hands.
He sat in the bathroom, his shoulders shaking as silent tears fell down his face. He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t as strong as Jon. He missed Ryan. He missed him every day.
He told himself he had to be strong and believe that Ryan was coming back, that he hadn’t died out in the jungle of the Japanese empire. Each day passed, though, and Brendon’s hope waned.
Finally, Brendon sniffed, wiping his eyes and standing up, knowing he had to get it together. There were soldiers that needed his help, and since Jon seemed determined to stare out the window all day, he’d have to do it himself.
Cleaning his face in the sink, Brendon stood up straight and took a deep breath. Rubbing his face, he shook away the lingering feelings of sadness. Bracing himself, he pushed open the door to the long white corridor.
He could already hear the sounds of nurses chattering and machines beeping. He didn’t want to go back, but it was his job.
Walking slowly and kicking the floor, Brendon made his way back to the room. He was nearly there when a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Brendon?"
Brendon froze, his head rising and his eyes widening. He didn’t turn around, though, waiting.
"Brendon?" The voice came again, sounding more urgent and scared.
Brendon whipped around, his eyes falling on the thin soldier standing behind him. He felt like his heart was trying to strangle him as it shot into his throat, pounding against his Adam’s apple.
"Ryan?" he whispered as though talking normally would scare him away.
"Oh my God, Brendon," Ryan muttered, wrapping his arms around Brendon’s neck tightly when Brendon rushed forward and pulled him into a crushing hug.
"Ryan," Brendon mumbled against Ryan’s neck, "Ryan, Ryan, Ryan."
Ryan’s eyes were closed and his hand was shaking as he stroked down the back of Brendon’s hair. Brendon’s arms were tight around him, never letting him go.
"I’m here," Ryan whispered. "I’m here."
Brendon didn’t dare let go as he kissed Ryan, pressing their lips together clumsily until he laughed nervously and buried his face in Ryan’s neck again.
"How are you here?"
"Our battalion was pulled out after the VJ Day. We’re home and we’re being released from service."
"We?" Brendon asked. "You and Smith? Where’s Smith?"
Ryan face fell and he bit his lip as it began to shake.
"What?" Brendon asked, hugging him again and feeling Ryan’s pulse against his lips.
"Spencer, h-he got hit again."
"Again?" Brendon pulled away suddenly. "Where? Is he here?"
Ryan nodded slowly. Brendon’s hand went to Ryan’s and he pulled him forward, heading for the room where Jon still lingered.
"What happened this time?" he asked as he tugged Ryan through the hallways.
"It was the last day and we were doing a routine check, but there were still some Japanese troops around and they started shooting at us. Spencer just happened to be in the line of fire. Shit, how could I let this happen again? Once is bad enough, but twice? What the hell kind of best friend am I?"
"Hey," Brendon said seriously, stopping and turning around. "You’re not a bad friend. You’ve tried your best."
Ryan didn’t look reassured, but Brendon pressed a quick kiss to his lips before turning and rushing inside.
It was another flurry of actions as nurses and doctors hurried to the new arrivals, clotting blood and stitching up gashes in soldier’s legs, arms, necks.
Brendon looked around hurriedly for Jon and saw him tending to a soldier with a long cut down his arm. It didn’t look too bad, though, and Brendon yelled for him.
"Jon!" he shouted, completely forgetting the proper military etiquette.
Jon looked up sharply at his name, catching sight of Brendon first and then Ryan, his eyes widened as they fell on Ryan beside Brendon. Quickly making sure the man was alright, Jon hurried over to Brendon.
"Urie, what the hell? Ross? What are you doing here?"
"No time!" Brendon exclaimed, grabbing Jon and turning him around. "Smith is here somewhere and he’s injured."
"What?" Jon yelped, stumbling as he was pushed forward to stare at Brendon. "Where? What happened?"
Brendon didn’t reply, looking around hurriedly for a familiar head of dark hair. He found it across the room as Ryan quietly pointed it out. Jon tore from Brendon’s grip, running to Spencer’s side and staring down at the blood leaking from his leg.
"What happened?" he demanded of the nurse as she approached with cloth and penicillin.
"Gun shot wound, Sir," the woman replied quickly, letting Jon grab the surgical instruments from her hand and dig for the bullet in Spencer’s thigh.
Spencer let out a pitiful whimper, his eyes shut tightly, much as they had been the first time Jon had seen Spencer. Jon got the bullet out after a little working around and pressed a clean, white cloth to the wound, ordering the nurse to get more cloth and gauze. The woman hurried away and Brendon and Ryan snuck closer.
Spencer’s face was pale again and Jon was shaking his head, muttering to the boy.
"How could you do this, Spencer? After making it this far? How could you come back here, to me, just to die like everyone else? You’re stronger than that. I know you are. I know you are. Spencer, are you listening? It’s me, Jon. You remember me?"
The nurse returned with the gauze that Jon tore from her hands, wrapping tightly around the hole. Ryan’s grip was tight on Brendon’s hand, nearly cutting off circulation, but Brendon didn’t care.
They stared at Spencer as the nurse disappeared once more and Jon grabbed his hand, rubbing it carefully.
"Spencer," he muttered, staring at him and stroking back his sweaty hair slightly. "I swear to God, if you die, I will kill you. Come on, Spence. It’s Jon. Don’t you remember?"
Jon leaned forward, pressing his face against Spencer’s hand and Brendon was fairly sure that he was crying.
A tense few minutes passed as they all stood staring at Spencer. Spencer didn’t move, only laid on the bed with his eyes closed and his breathing shallow.
Brendon turned to Ryan, squeezing his hand gently. Ryan’s face was cracking and he buried it in Brendon’s shoulder, unable to watch anymore.
Jon bit his trembling lip and stared at Spencer’s hand, jumping as it moved suddenly, and dropping it on the covers.
Spencer’s eyes fluttered open and he stared upward for a second before turning to Jon. His mouth twisted into a weak smile.
"Of course I remember you, you idiot."
Jon nearly cried with joy as Spencer spoke, and moved forward, pulling him into a crushing hug. Spencer looked surprised, but smiled and held Jon tightly.
"Don’t you ever scare me like that again," Jon muttered, stroking Spencer’s hair.
Spencer shook his head. "I promise."
Jon laughed for a second then kissed Spencer quickly. "You better live."
Spencer smiled. "I will."
Brendon let out a huge sigh of relief and hugged Ryan to him. Ryan just stared at Spencer.
"I am not telling your mother about this."
Spencer glanced at Ryan, smiling. "It’s okay. We all tell lies."
Jon just grinned and kissed Spencer again, for once in his life, ignoring the rush of nurses around him and enjoying the white that flashed before his eyes.
Previous Chapter
FIN.