Not!Fic: Yet More Ryan of Green Gables
This bit is for callsigns, and yes. Yes, Mikey totally drinks cordial and smokes pipes.
Previous parts here and here. I'm not sticking to any true chronological order. Stayed tuned next for some of Ryan-writing-his-masterpiece for clumsygyrl :)
Spencer can’t stop hiccupping, and it’s making him laugh, and Ryan is just incredibly red-faced and hot and he thinks this might have been a bad idea. Plus, Mikey’s going to be so mad that they drank all his cordial.
Ryan pulls at his collar and slumps down on the bed.
Spencer slips off the side and lands on his back. “Ow,” he says, then giggles a little, and then goes, “Shhh, shhhh, okay, I’m.” He flaps a hand. “I’m.”
“Spencer.” Ryan rolls over and reaches a hand down to him. “Spencer, Spencer, this.” Oh man. How is Spencer gonna get home? Ryan’s starting to feel a little sick to his stomach, and it was a really horrible idea, honest, he knows that now and this will never, ever happen again, except somehow he’s got to explain this to Mikey and sneak Spencer home and it’s not going to end well. He’s in enough of his right mind to sense that.
It doesn’t, of course, he’s completely correct. Mikey has to explain to Mr. and Mrs. Smith that Spencer was tipsy, and slightly green with nausea, and Mr. and Mrs. Smith place the blame solely on Ryan. Which is unfair, truly, and Mikey stares down Mr. Smith and tells him off as politely as possible, and then he refuses to speak to Ryan for days. Days upon days.
Ryan, folded up on the porch swing, sniffles into his knees. Gerard settles down next to him and slides an arm around his shoulders. His expression is understanding, but he hasn’t tried to talk Mikey out of his snit. Mikey is perfectly justified in being upset, and Gerard knows it’ll pass sooner than later. He knows his brother.
That Spencer has been ordered never to associate with Ryan again leaves a gaping wound in Ryan’s heart. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to go on, for Spencer is the other half of his soul, a brother in every way but blood, closer than kin, even, and Ryan is wasting away without his constant presence.
Gerard presses his cheek onto the top of Ryan’s head. He doesn’t have any words for him. Ryan has words for everything, and Gerard’s content enough to let him talk.
“It isn’t fair,” he says, and it isn’t.
“I’ll be so lonely without him, Gerard. I don’t think I can live,” he says, and Gerard smiles a little, careful not to let Ryan notice.
Sometime between, “Maybe we can run away together,” and, “Oh, I bet the open road is dangerous,” - said with the slightest bit of perverse delight, since for Ryan, danger is often equated with romance - Mikey slips out onto the porch to stand, arms crossed, leaning against the railing.
“You’re being stupid,” he says, cutting Ryan off mid-story, an imaginary adventure rife with handsome highwaymen that’s mainly left Gerard baffled but amused.
Ryan lifts wide eyes to his.
Mikey taps his pipe in his palm, glances up at the sky. “Rain, maybe,” he says, and Ryan beams at him.
*
At church, Ryan sends baleful stares towards the Smith pew, and Spencer bites his lip and ducks his head every time his mama sharpens her eyes on him.
It really is tremendously unfair and tragic.
Spencer is sandwiched between his two little sisters when they leave, and he tosses a look over his shoulder at Ryan, pleading for understanding, big blue eyes filled with sadness, and Ryan just sighs. So very tragic.
Ryan watches William slip up and hook his arm through Spencer’s and a sliver of envy slices through Ryan. William is so easy, and he’s three times the bad influence Ryan is, and yet William’s the one who gets the pleasure of his company.
Gerard cups the back of Ryan’s neck and urges him out into the aisle, greeting the minister and then Frank and Patrick and Pete, and Ryan just wants to go home. He wants to go home and lock himself in his room and cry or something. He’s still that upset.
And then William - oh, he could kiss William, really - captures Ryan’s hand as they step out of the church and pulls him away and shoves him around the side of the building before turning to lean casually against the corner, one leg hooked over the other. He whistles nonchalantly. Ryan thinks maybe the whistling is overdoing it somewhat, but he isn’t going to complain.
He isn’t going to complain, of course, because Spencer is there, fingers threaded together and feet shuffling, hair sweeping over his forehead and over his eyes a bit as he tilts his head to smile.
Ryan rushes to give him a hug and Spencer laughs, a little strained, and says, “This is so unfair.”
“It is, it totally is,” Ryan agrees, nodding, and then he hugs Spencer tighter.
*
The night Spencer shows up at Green Gables, frantic, no one is home but Ryan. Ryan hasn’t seen Spencer since the week before, Sunday, and he’s instantly happy to find him at the door, except Spencer’s in a panic, and Ryan immediately knows something is horribly wrong. Spencer’s never in a panic.
“What?” Ryan asks, “What’s happened?” and Spencer stumbles over a flood of words, and Ryan parses out, “Sister,” and, “can’t breathe,” and Ryan has his coat on before Spencer even asks for Ryan’s help.
Ryan’s dealt with colic before, at the orphanage. He’s had to take care of little ones, even though the snot was bothersome and kids were generally too sticky-fingered for him, and this is Spencer’s sister, anyway, and anything that’s dear to Spencer is automatically dear to Ryan. That’s just the way it worked.
He grabs a bottle of ipecac and steams up some water and croons to Charlotte as she coughs up what’s lodged in her throat, and it’s all very disgusting, honestly, but Ryan has saved the day.
Spencer is crying. Spencer never cries. Ryan would be upset with Charlotte for upsetting her brother, except he isn’t unreasonable, and Charlotte is pretty much wailing her own displeasure all over the warm Smith kitchen.
When the Smiths come home, Charlotte is asleep by the hearth, wrapped up in a blanket, and Spencer and Ryan are clutching hands and leaning exhaustedly into each other and Mrs. Smith just stares at them for a moment before asking briskly, “What’s going on here?”
Spencer throws himself at his mama - which makes Ryan’s heart clench at the loveliness of the gesture, and also feel a bit slighted that Spencer’s abandoned his side - and says, “Charlotte almost died, but Ryan knew exactly what to do,” and Ryan watches as Mrs. Smith’s face goes completely white.
“She’s all right now,” Ryan hastily says. “She’s sleeping.” He stands up awkwardly and starts inching towards the door. “I’ll just. See myself out.”
“Hold it right there, young man,” Mr. Smith says, and then Mrs. Smith is in front of him, gathering him up in a hug and smushing him sort of unpleasantly against her breasts, but he goes with it.
She whispers, “Oh, thank you,” and, “My baby girl,” and Ryan is totally embarrassed. Spencer is grinning at him, though, that wonderful Spencer grin that he’s missed so much.
Mrs. Smith steps back and gives Ryan a stern look, even though her eyes are still shining. “You’ll be by for tea tomorrow,” she says, and Spencer is nodding vigorously over her shoulder and still grinning and Ryan thinks everything will be alright again.
*
Mikey forever after calls it The Ballad of Spencer and Ryan, since Ryan likes to retell the story of their tragic separation with elaborate and often flowery exaggeration.
It’s pretty funny, actually. Gerard always has to pinch him to stop him from laughing outright.
Mikey’s pretty sure life will never, ever be dull with Ryan around.
continues here
Previous parts here and here. I'm not sticking to any true chronological order. Stayed tuned next for some of Ryan-writing-his-masterpiece for clumsygyrl :)
Spencer can’t stop hiccupping, and it’s making him laugh, and Ryan is just incredibly red-faced and hot and he thinks this might have been a bad idea. Plus, Mikey’s going to be so mad that they drank all his cordial.
Ryan pulls at his collar and slumps down on the bed.
Spencer slips off the side and lands on his back. “Ow,” he says, then giggles a little, and then goes, “Shhh, shhhh, okay, I’m.” He flaps a hand. “I’m.”
“Spencer.” Ryan rolls over and reaches a hand down to him. “Spencer, Spencer, this.” Oh man. How is Spencer gonna get home? Ryan’s starting to feel a little sick to his stomach, and it was a really horrible idea, honest, he knows that now and this will never, ever happen again, except somehow he’s got to explain this to Mikey and sneak Spencer home and it’s not going to end well. He’s in enough of his right mind to sense that.
It doesn’t, of course, he’s completely correct. Mikey has to explain to Mr. and Mrs. Smith that Spencer was tipsy, and slightly green with nausea, and Mr. and Mrs. Smith place the blame solely on Ryan. Which is unfair, truly, and Mikey stares down Mr. Smith and tells him off as politely as possible, and then he refuses to speak to Ryan for days. Days upon days.
Ryan, folded up on the porch swing, sniffles into his knees. Gerard settles down next to him and slides an arm around his shoulders. His expression is understanding, but he hasn’t tried to talk Mikey out of his snit. Mikey is perfectly justified in being upset, and Gerard knows it’ll pass sooner than later. He knows his brother.
That Spencer has been ordered never to associate with Ryan again leaves a gaping wound in Ryan’s heart. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to go on, for Spencer is the other half of his soul, a brother in every way but blood, closer than kin, even, and Ryan is wasting away without his constant presence.
Gerard presses his cheek onto the top of Ryan’s head. He doesn’t have any words for him. Ryan has words for everything, and Gerard’s content enough to let him talk.
“It isn’t fair,” he says, and it isn’t.
“I’ll be so lonely without him, Gerard. I don’t think I can live,” he says, and Gerard smiles a little, careful not to let Ryan notice.
Sometime between, “Maybe we can run away together,” and, “Oh, I bet the open road is dangerous,” - said with the slightest bit of perverse delight, since for Ryan, danger is often equated with romance - Mikey slips out onto the porch to stand, arms crossed, leaning against the railing.
“You’re being stupid,” he says, cutting Ryan off mid-story, an imaginary adventure rife with handsome highwaymen that’s mainly left Gerard baffled but amused.
Ryan lifts wide eyes to his.
Mikey taps his pipe in his palm, glances up at the sky. “Rain, maybe,” he says, and Ryan beams at him.
*
At church, Ryan sends baleful stares towards the Smith pew, and Spencer bites his lip and ducks his head every time his mama sharpens her eyes on him.
It really is tremendously unfair and tragic.
Spencer is sandwiched between his two little sisters when they leave, and he tosses a look over his shoulder at Ryan, pleading for understanding, big blue eyes filled with sadness, and Ryan just sighs. So very tragic.
Ryan watches William slip up and hook his arm through Spencer’s and a sliver of envy slices through Ryan. William is so easy, and he’s three times the bad influence Ryan is, and yet William’s the one who gets the pleasure of his company.
Gerard cups the back of Ryan’s neck and urges him out into the aisle, greeting the minister and then Frank and Patrick and Pete, and Ryan just wants to go home. He wants to go home and lock himself in his room and cry or something. He’s still that upset.
And then William - oh, he could kiss William, really - captures Ryan’s hand as they step out of the church and pulls him away and shoves him around the side of the building before turning to lean casually against the corner, one leg hooked over the other. He whistles nonchalantly. Ryan thinks maybe the whistling is overdoing it somewhat, but he isn’t going to complain.
He isn’t going to complain, of course, because Spencer is there, fingers threaded together and feet shuffling, hair sweeping over his forehead and over his eyes a bit as he tilts his head to smile.
Ryan rushes to give him a hug and Spencer laughs, a little strained, and says, “This is so unfair.”
“It is, it totally is,” Ryan agrees, nodding, and then he hugs Spencer tighter.
*
The night Spencer shows up at Green Gables, frantic, no one is home but Ryan. Ryan hasn’t seen Spencer since the week before, Sunday, and he’s instantly happy to find him at the door, except Spencer’s in a panic, and Ryan immediately knows something is horribly wrong. Spencer’s never in a panic.
“What?” Ryan asks, “What’s happened?” and Spencer stumbles over a flood of words, and Ryan parses out, “Sister,” and, “can’t breathe,” and Ryan has his coat on before Spencer even asks for Ryan’s help.
Ryan’s dealt with colic before, at the orphanage. He’s had to take care of little ones, even though the snot was bothersome and kids were generally too sticky-fingered for him, and this is Spencer’s sister, anyway, and anything that’s dear to Spencer is automatically dear to Ryan. That’s just the way it worked.
He grabs a bottle of ipecac and steams up some water and croons to Charlotte as she coughs up what’s lodged in her throat, and it’s all very disgusting, honestly, but Ryan has saved the day.
Spencer is crying. Spencer never cries. Ryan would be upset with Charlotte for upsetting her brother, except he isn’t unreasonable, and Charlotte is pretty much wailing her own displeasure all over the warm Smith kitchen.
When the Smiths come home, Charlotte is asleep by the hearth, wrapped up in a blanket, and Spencer and Ryan are clutching hands and leaning exhaustedly into each other and Mrs. Smith just stares at them for a moment before asking briskly, “What’s going on here?”
Spencer throws himself at his mama - which makes Ryan’s heart clench at the loveliness of the gesture, and also feel a bit slighted that Spencer’s abandoned his side - and says, “Charlotte almost died, but Ryan knew exactly what to do,” and Ryan watches as Mrs. Smith’s face goes completely white.
“She’s all right now,” Ryan hastily says. “She’s sleeping.” He stands up awkwardly and starts inching towards the door. “I’ll just. See myself out.”
“Hold it right there, young man,” Mr. Smith says, and then Mrs. Smith is in front of him, gathering him up in a hug and smushing him sort of unpleasantly against her breasts, but he goes with it.
She whispers, “Oh, thank you,” and, “My baby girl,” and Ryan is totally embarrassed. Spencer is grinning at him, though, that wonderful Spencer grin that he’s missed so much.
Mrs. Smith steps back and gives Ryan a stern look, even though her eyes are still shining. “You’ll be by for tea tomorrow,” she says, and Spencer is nodding vigorously over her shoulder and still grinning and Ryan thinks everything will be alright again.
*
Mikey forever after calls it The Ballad of Spencer and Ryan, since Ryan likes to retell the story of their tragic separation with elaborate and often flowery exaggeration.
It’s pretty funny, actually. Gerard always has to pinch him to stop him from laughing outright.
Mikey’s pretty sure life will never, ever be dull with Ryan around.
continues here