Freaks [19/23]
Title: Freaks [19/23]
Author: spazzyskittles/Tiffany
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Jon/Spencer
POV: 1st (Ryan's)
Summary: An accident lands Ryan in the hospital, and he meets Jon, who tells him of a mysterious patient on their floor. There's something not quite right about him, but then again, there's something not quite right about Ryan as well.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Panic at the Disco. This is all just a by-product of an overactive imagination.
Author Notes: This is a completed story and will be updated every other day. Thanks to my beta pinkkchocolate, I couldn't have done it without you.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18
Chapter 19
It’s early when I wake up on Thursday. Light is only just barely coming in through my blinds. Surprisingly though, I’m wide-awake. And it’s not like I’m all that excited for school to start; that’s never really been me. But I guess I should call it a blessing that I’m up so early since my first class is at nine.
I take my time getting ready for the day, and it’s eight o’clock when I bang on Spencer’s door because his class is even earlier than mine and he has to be out the door in twenty minutes or else he’ll be late for his first class of the school year. I hear a tired grumble and then an “Oh shit!” on the other side of the door, and I smile fondly as I head to the kitchen to get breakfast ready.
Sure enough, I hear Spencer rush out of his room and into the bathroom, and then out again fully dressed in about five minutes. “I’m late,” he tells me frantically when he appears.
He’s about to head out the door while patting his pockets for his keys when I say calmly, “Hey, wait.”
“What?” Spencer asks. I hand him his keys, plus a toasted bagel with cream cheese wrapped in a paper towel. “Oh, thanks.” He gestures at the food in his hand. “What’s this for?”
I shrug. “Call it my attempt at a thank you.”
“For what?” he asks curiously. I only shrug again in response before heading into the kitchen.
“You’re going to be late!” I call out.
“Fuck!” he yells, and I hear him wrench the door open. “Bye!”
The door slams shut, and I sigh.
I head back into my room to grab my bag, which I sling over my shoulder. I stop at the small mirror on my dresser. I don’t stare too long, just enough to assess that I need a haircut even though I like it kind of long; it does a good job helping me hide.
I head out the door and down the street towards campus. I’m going back to hiding in the back of my classes, back to walking briskly through campus with my head down, and back to losing myself in the basement of the library.
And so starts my senior year in college.
---------------
It’s eleven o’clock, and I’m staring at my schedule dumbfounded. This is my fourth year at this school, and I’ve never heard of this building. How is that even possible? I’m pretty sure I’ve had class in all the buildings there are on campus, in all the large lecture halls even. I decide to text Spencer.
Where the fuck is Nardi? I have a class there in 30 min!
Only a brief moment passes before my phone is buzzing with Spencer’s reply.
New one by the arts buildings. Right next to Strauss Hall.
Oh. Well, fuck me. I had no idea my out-of-state fees were going to pay for yet another new building on campus.
I check the time on my phone and see that I have twenty-five minutes to get all the way over there and find the room where my class is in. I better hurry.
I rush through the quad and cut through Steen Hall. Once I’m outside, I can see the shiny new building that must be Nardi. I round a corner right outside Strauss and run straight into something solid. I lose my balance, the weight of my backpack doing a good job at bringing me down. Thankfully, I land safely on my ass because I really can’t go around breaking more limbs as soon as one is healed.
“Shit, are you okay?”
I freeze. This… This is not happening.
Sure enough, a familiar hand comes into view, and I can’t do anything but stare at it. This is not happening.
“Let me help you up,” he says, and fuck, it really is happening.
Cautiously, my eyes travel from his hand, up his arm, to his shoulder, and finally, I’m staring at Brendon. He’s giving me a friendly smile, not even faltering when my hair slips and uncovers my face, and I quickly take note of his tight gray jeans, CCR shirt, and tortoise shell Wayfarers. However, I still can’t move.
Finally, he makes a noise, and though I can’t tell because of the sunglasses, from the movement of his head, he appears to have rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he says and grabs my hand, quickly pulling me to standing.
Once I’m back on my feet and balanced, I can feel Brendon’s grip tighten a little around my hand. I look up, and I can see the smile slipping on his face. I feel ice cold fear that’s making my spine tingle as the smile has turned into an unmistakable frown, complete with a wrinkled brow and a crease in his forehead.
“I…” he says quietly, and his thumb just barely brushes my knuckles. “Ryan?” His voice is breathy, and with just that single utterance of my name, I can hear the hurt. Those two syllables are just soaked in it.
My eyes widen, and I can tell in that instant that he knows my next move. After all, it’s all I’ve been doing, isn’t it? But I just so happen to be a little quicker than he is because before he can close his hand fully around mine to stop me, I wrench it out of his hand. Then there’s one last moment of hesitation where he just knows, and my feet are moving as I take off in the opposite direction to where I was headed.
“Ryan!” I hear behind me, but I’m gone. I don’t look back because I can’t bring myself to. So I keep running. I dodge students on their way to their first classes of the year and almost run over a small girl who looks as if she can’t be in college just yet. I can’t even care about the class I was supposed to go to because it’s back there, and I can’t even look there, let alone go back there. A stitch is beginning to form in my side because I may be a fast runner but I’m still out of shape.
I begin to slow when I reach the edge of campus, and I finally look over my shoulder. As expected, there is no one behind me. Brendon has not chased after me. And why would he?
I walk the three blocks to my apartment with my head hanging low, and when I enter, Spencer’s at the table eating a sandwich.
“Hey, don’t you have a class right now?” he asks, but I just walk past him and into my room, slamming the door shut behind me.
I drop my bag, toe my shoes off, and climb into my bed, burrowing deep under the covers so that I can only just hear Spencer’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head, even though I know full well that he can’t see it. The door creaks open, and soon, I feel a weight settle on top of me as I assume Spencer has engulfed not only me but my sheets and comforter as well into a hug.
There’s a tug, and I see Spencer’s face staring at me. He squints at me exaggeratedly in what I assume is an attempt at making me laugh, but I really can’t do that right now. He sighs and gives up making faces at me, and it’s Serious Spencer again. “You need to stop doing this,” he whispers.
I look down since that’s the only place I can without looking at Spencer. “I know,” I manage to say. “I’ll be fine.”
“You know,” he says quietly, “you keep saying that, but you never actually end up being fine.”
I shut my eyes at his words and feel him tug again at my covers. This time, I let him pull them all the way off, and I sit up. He shifts so that he’s sitting cross-legged on my bed, facing me. “So,” he says as he places his hands on my knees, “you’re going to tell me right now what the hell is up. At the very least, more than you’ve been telling me. You got that?”
“It’s not going to matter,” I mumble.
Spencer shakes his head. “I don’t care.”
I take a deep breath. “There was this guy,” I begin. “When I was in the hospital, he… well, I…” I don’t really know how to say it. Or, rather, I don’t want to say it out loud because then it’s real. “I fell for him,” I whisper quietly.
I can feel Spencer’s eyes on me, and I wonder what he can possibly be thinking. “What’s so bad about that?” Spencer asks as he nudges my shoulder. I look up, and he gives me an encouraging smile. I really can’t bring myself to smile back.
“What do you mean, Spencer?” I wince reflexively. “L-Look at me.”
“I am looking at you. Out of all the people you know, I was always the one who’d look at you.” His voice is soft, almost neutral sounding as if what he’s saying is the most rational and obvious thing in the world.
I wring my hands, trying to somehow let go of all of my frustration. I shout, “Spencer, no one falls for me!” And there it goes, all my reserve… gone.
I feel Spencer’s arm around me, pulling me into a hug as I take shaky breaths. He’s taking deep breaths deliberately, and I find myself eventually matching them until I’ve calmed down. I draw back just a little, making sure to stay close enough. “But did he?” Spencer asks finally.
I shake my head, avoiding his gaze. “No. I mean, he couldn’t have. He’d never seen me, and I never told him about…” I barely catch myself, but it’s too late since I look and find Spencer with a confused look on his face.
“What do you mean?”
I sigh because I’m caught. “He is… was… blind. He’s not anymore.”
Spencer purses his lips only for a second, nods his head, and licks his lips. Then he says, “And you think that now that he can see you, he won’t like you.”
“It’s not just that, Spence,” I say. “Even if it didn’t matter, though it probably does, I fucking lied to him. He probably hates me.”
He shakes his head. “Ryan, I don’t know this person so I can’t say for certain that he isn’t some shallow asshole and that your fears are completely unfounded. Because, sadly, there are people out there that are just like that, and I’ve seen it and I know for certain that you have too.” I bow my head. “But there are also people out there who will surprise you. They look beyond what’s on the outside, because none of that ever really matters in the end, and see that you are a wonderful person.”
I’m shaking my head again. “I’m not. I lied to him, Spencer!”
“You’ve done the best you could with what life gave you, Ryan,” he replies. “A weaker person would’ve given up a long time ago. Like I said, there are a fair amount of terrible people in this world, and they’ve treated you like shit. It’s hard to trust that just because you want someone to be different, they will be.”
I sigh and hang my head in my hands because I knew it. I fucking knew it. But then, I feel a soft nudge to my shoulder and look up. “That being said, even though I get why, I still think you might be wrong.”
“How would you even know?” I mutter.
He gives me a soft smile as he rubs my shoulder comfortingly. “Because he must be some guy for you to like him this much. Ryan, don’t think I didn’t notice how happy he made you. I mean, of course I did. That’s why I was crushed when it all went away. I’ve hated the last couple of months because I thought you were finally moving on and letting yourself be happy for a change. What you seem to think is normal shouldn’t be. I think you should really give him a chance.”
“It’s too late,” I tell him. “Today, just now. He saw me and knew it was me, and the look on his face just… It burned, Spencer.”
Spencer squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t be so quick to assume things. He probably needs some time to let it all settle in his head. Did you explain everything to him, what happened to you, why you lied?”
I frown and whisper, ducking my head yet again. “I ran.” The arm around me tenses at those two words.
“Can I be alone now?” I mutter as I finally feel the weight of my emotions. I’m just so drained right now, and I need to sleep.
“Okay,” Spencer whispers. His arms wrap around me one last time, and I take in that comforting feeling and soak it up because I just really need it right now. A moment later, and Spencer has closed the door behind him.
I get up just to shut my blinds, shut out the world, and I crawl back under my covers and wrap myself back into a cocoon of blankets. My eyelids feel heavy as if my emotions are sitting on them and weighing them down, and soon, I’m dreaming of grins and dark hair and beautiful hands and creamy, pale skin.
-----------------
A/N:
Well, what you guys have been waiting for. Sort of.
I threw in a couple of nods to two of my favorite professors in there. Just for fun.
I guess now will be the time to say that I'm hoping that everyone will comment the epilogue (meaning part 23) when I post it. I usually don't beg for comments unless it's the very end since I know it's hard to come up with something to say every chapter (those of you that do though, I <3 you). I'm hoping that by the end, you'll have something to say. I'll remind you guys again when the time comes, expect a long A/N at the end anyway.
Author: spazzyskittles/Tiffany
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Jon/Spencer
POV: 1st (Ryan's)
Summary: An accident lands Ryan in the hospital, and he meets Jon, who tells him of a mysterious patient on their floor. There's something not quite right about him, but then again, there's something not quite right about Ryan as well.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Panic at the Disco. This is all just a by-product of an overactive imagination.
Author Notes: This is a completed story and will be updated every other day. Thanks to my beta pinkkchocolate, I couldn't have done it without you.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18
Chapter 19
It’s early when I wake up on Thursday. Light is only just barely coming in through my blinds. Surprisingly though, I’m wide-awake. And it’s not like I’m all that excited for school to start; that’s never really been me. But I guess I should call it a blessing that I’m up so early since my first class is at nine.
I take my time getting ready for the day, and it’s eight o’clock when I bang on Spencer’s door because his class is even earlier than mine and he has to be out the door in twenty minutes or else he’ll be late for his first class of the school year. I hear a tired grumble and then an “Oh shit!” on the other side of the door, and I smile fondly as I head to the kitchen to get breakfast ready.
Sure enough, I hear Spencer rush out of his room and into the bathroom, and then out again fully dressed in about five minutes. “I’m late,” he tells me frantically when he appears.
He’s about to head out the door while patting his pockets for his keys when I say calmly, “Hey, wait.”
“What?” Spencer asks. I hand him his keys, plus a toasted bagel with cream cheese wrapped in a paper towel. “Oh, thanks.” He gestures at the food in his hand. “What’s this for?”
I shrug. “Call it my attempt at a thank you.”
“For what?” he asks curiously. I only shrug again in response before heading into the kitchen.
“You’re going to be late!” I call out.
“Fuck!” he yells, and I hear him wrench the door open. “Bye!”
The door slams shut, and I sigh.
I head back into my room to grab my bag, which I sling over my shoulder. I stop at the small mirror on my dresser. I don’t stare too long, just enough to assess that I need a haircut even though I like it kind of long; it does a good job helping me hide.
I head out the door and down the street towards campus. I’m going back to hiding in the back of my classes, back to walking briskly through campus with my head down, and back to losing myself in the basement of the library.
And so starts my senior year in college.
---------------
It’s eleven o’clock, and I’m staring at my schedule dumbfounded. This is my fourth year at this school, and I’ve never heard of this building. How is that even possible? I’m pretty sure I’ve had class in all the buildings there are on campus, in all the large lecture halls even. I decide to text Spencer.
Where the fuck is Nardi? I have a class there in 30 min!
Only a brief moment passes before my phone is buzzing with Spencer’s reply.
New one by the arts buildings. Right next to Strauss Hall.
Oh. Well, fuck me. I had no idea my out-of-state fees were going to pay for yet another new building on campus.
I check the time on my phone and see that I have twenty-five minutes to get all the way over there and find the room where my class is in. I better hurry.
I rush through the quad and cut through Steen Hall. Once I’m outside, I can see the shiny new building that must be Nardi. I round a corner right outside Strauss and run straight into something solid. I lose my balance, the weight of my backpack doing a good job at bringing me down. Thankfully, I land safely on my ass because I really can’t go around breaking more limbs as soon as one is healed.
“Shit, are you okay?”
I freeze. This… This is not happening.
Sure enough, a familiar hand comes into view, and I can’t do anything but stare at it. This is not happening.
“Let me help you up,” he says, and fuck, it really is happening.
Cautiously, my eyes travel from his hand, up his arm, to his shoulder, and finally, I’m staring at Brendon. He’s giving me a friendly smile, not even faltering when my hair slips and uncovers my face, and I quickly take note of his tight gray jeans, CCR shirt, and tortoise shell Wayfarers. However, I still can’t move.
Finally, he makes a noise, and though I can’t tell because of the sunglasses, from the movement of his head, he appears to have rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he says and grabs my hand, quickly pulling me to standing.
Once I’m back on my feet and balanced, I can feel Brendon’s grip tighten a little around my hand. I look up, and I can see the smile slipping on his face. I feel ice cold fear that’s making my spine tingle as the smile has turned into an unmistakable frown, complete with a wrinkled brow and a crease in his forehead.
“I…” he says quietly, and his thumb just barely brushes my knuckles. “Ryan?” His voice is breathy, and with just that single utterance of my name, I can hear the hurt. Those two syllables are just soaked in it.
My eyes widen, and I can tell in that instant that he knows my next move. After all, it’s all I’ve been doing, isn’t it? But I just so happen to be a little quicker than he is because before he can close his hand fully around mine to stop me, I wrench it out of his hand. Then there’s one last moment of hesitation where he just knows, and my feet are moving as I take off in the opposite direction to where I was headed.
“Ryan!” I hear behind me, but I’m gone. I don’t look back because I can’t bring myself to. So I keep running. I dodge students on their way to their first classes of the year and almost run over a small girl who looks as if she can’t be in college just yet. I can’t even care about the class I was supposed to go to because it’s back there, and I can’t even look there, let alone go back there. A stitch is beginning to form in my side because I may be a fast runner but I’m still out of shape.
I begin to slow when I reach the edge of campus, and I finally look over my shoulder. As expected, there is no one behind me. Brendon has not chased after me. And why would he?
I walk the three blocks to my apartment with my head hanging low, and when I enter, Spencer’s at the table eating a sandwich.
“Hey, don’t you have a class right now?” he asks, but I just walk past him and into my room, slamming the door shut behind me.
I drop my bag, toe my shoes off, and climb into my bed, burrowing deep under the covers so that I can only just hear Spencer’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head, even though I know full well that he can’t see it. The door creaks open, and soon, I feel a weight settle on top of me as I assume Spencer has engulfed not only me but my sheets and comforter as well into a hug.
There’s a tug, and I see Spencer’s face staring at me. He squints at me exaggeratedly in what I assume is an attempt at making me laugh, but I really can’t do that right now. He sighs and gives up making faces at me, and it’s Serious Spencer again. “You need to stop doing this,” he whispers.
I look down since that’s the only place I can without looking at Spencer. “I know,” I manage to say. “I’ll be fine.”
“You know,” he says quietly, “you keep saying that, but you never actually end up being fine.”
I shut my eyes at his words and feel him tug again at my covers. This time, I let him pull them all the way off, and I sit up. He shifts so that he’s sitting cross-legged on my bed, facing me. “So,” he says as he places his hands on my knees, “you’re going to tell me right now what the hell is up. At the very least, more than you’ve been telling me. You got that?”
“It’s not going to matter,” I mumble.
Spencer shakes his head. “I don’t care.”
I take a deep breath. “There was this guy,” I begin. “When I was in the hospital, he… well, I…” I don’t really know how to say it. Or, rather, I don’t want to say it out loud because then it’s real. “I fell for him,” I whisper quietly.
I can feel Spencer’s eyes on me, and I wonder what he can possibly be thinking. “What’s so bad about that?” Spencer asks as he nudges my shoulder. I look up, and he gives me an encouraging smile. I really can’t bring myself to smile back.
“What do you mean, Spencer?” I wince reflexively. “L-Look at me.”
“I am looking at you. Out of all the people you know, I was always the one who’d look at you.” His voice is soft, almost neutral sounding as if what he’s saying is the most rational and obvious thing in the world.
I wring my hands, trying to somehow let go of all of my frustration. I shout, “Spencer, no one falls for me!” And there it goes, all my reserve… gone.
I feel Spencer’s arm around me, pulling me into a hug as I take shaky breaths. He’s taking deep breaths deliberately, and I find myself eventually matching them until I’ve calmed down. I draw back just a little, making sure to stay close enough. “But did he?” Spencer asks finally.
I shake my head, avoiding his gaze. “No. I mean, he couldn’t have. He’d never seen me, and I never told him about…” I barely catch myself, but it’s too late since I look and find Spencer with a confused look on his face.
“What do you mean?”
I sigh because I’m caught. “He is… was… blind. He’s not anymore.”
Spencer purses his lips only for a second, nods his head, and licks his lips. Then he says, “And you think that now that he can see you, he won’t like you.”
“It’s not just that, Spence,” I say. “Even if it didn’t matter, though it probably does, I fucking lied to him. He probably hates me.”
He shakes his head. “Ryan, I don’t know this person so I can’t say for certain that he isn’t some shallow asshole and that your fears are completely unfounded. Because, sadly, there are people out there that are just like that, and I’ve seen it and I know for certain that you have too.” I bow my head. “But there are also people out there who will surprise you. They look beyond what’s on the outside, because none of that ever really matters in the end, and see that you are a wonderful person.”
I’m shaking my head again. “I’m not. I lied to him, Spencer!”
“You’ve done the best you could with what life gave you, Ryan,” he replies. “A weaker person would’ve given up a long time ago. Like I said, there are a fair amount of terrible people in this world, and they’ve treated you like shit. It’s hard to trust that just because you want someone to be different, they will be.”
I sigh and hang my head in my hands because I knew it. I fucking knew it. But then, I feel a soft nudge to my shoulder and look up. “That being said, even though I get why, I still think you might be wrong.”
“How would you even know?” I mutter.
He gives me a soft smile as he rubs my shoulder comfortingly. “Because he must be some guy for you to like him this much. Ryan, don’t think I didn’t notice how happy he made you. I mean, of course I did. That’s why I was crushed when it all went away. I’ve hated the last couple of months because I thought you were finally moving on and letting yourself be happy for a change. What you seem to think is normal shouldn’t be. I think you should really give him a chance.”
“It’s too late,” I tell him. “Today, just now. He saw me and knew it was me, and the look on his face just… It burned, Spencer.”
Spencer squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t be so quick to assume things. He probably needs some time to let it all settle in his head. Did you explain everything to him, what happened to you, why you lied?”
I frown and whisper, ducking my head yet again. “I ran.” The arm around me tenses at those two words.
“Can I be alone now?” I mutter as I finally feel the weight of my emotions. I’m just so drained right now, and I need to sleep.
“Okay,” Spencer whispers. His arms wrap around me one last time, and I take in that comforting feeling and soak it up because I just really need it right now. A moment later, and Spencer has closed the door behind him.
I get up just to shut my blinds, shut out the world, and I crawl back under my covers and wrap myself back into a cocoon of blankets. My eyelids feel heavy as if my emotions are sitting on them and weighing them down, and soon, I’m dreaming of grins and dark hair and beautiful hands and creamy, pale skin.
-----------------
A/N:
Well, what you guys have been waiting for. Sort of.
I threw in a couple of nods to two of my favorite professors in there. Just for fun.
I guess now will be the time to say that I'm hoping that everyone will comment the epilogue (meaning part 23) when I post it. I usually don't beg for comments unless it's the very end since I know it's hard to come up with something to say every chapter (those of you that do though, I <3 you). I'm hoping that by the end, you'll have something to say. I'll remind you guys again when the time comes, expect a long A/N at the end anyway.