Seldom Second Chances (6a/13)
Title: Seldom Second Chances
Author: Clay
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: When a freak accident drops an impossible opportunity in Ryan's lap, it's up to him to decide whether to squander it, or to change his fate by going after the one thing he's always wanted.
Word Count: ~5000
Prompt & Author's Notes: Again, for the Thon Prompt 33: Strangled by the red string. As always, betaed by asuka14. This chapter is split in half because it was very long, probably about 8,000 words total. The second part will be much shorter, but it's action packed! ^_^
Chapter Six (Part A)
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to run them over,” Colin said as he slid into the passenger’s seat. He turned and nodded back toward the smattering of paparazzi still crowded around the gate.
Ryan chuckled as he started the car. “Tempting,” he said, “but I think I’m going to try to stay out of jail for a couple days.”
He did a K turn in the driveway and headed toward the gate. They’d loaded the luggage and had started to discuss a destination, but they’d only gotten as far as deciding to pick up Colin’s things from the hotel. They would figure out the rest as they went.
As the gate started to open, the paparazzi moved back, and as soon as he had clearance, Ryan floored the engine and shot through the startled crowd with a manic cackle.
“Ryan!” Colin gasped, twisted around to make sure no one had been hit.
Ryan could see them through the rear view mirror, staring after him with mouths agape. He just laughed harder.
“What happened to staying out of jail?” Colin asked him, turning back around to sit properly in his seat.
“No one was hit.”
“But they could have been!”
“Then they’d learn not to invade peoples’ privacy, wouldn’t they?”
Colin’s only response was a disapproving glare, but Ryan paid it no mind. Back behind the wheel of the Aston Martin, this time with Colin at his side, he was flying high. He took the on ramp to the highway at a delightfully dangerous speed, just to get another rise out of Colin.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” Colin griped, clutching the door handle, his knuckles white.
Ryan chuckled. “Just trying to get your heart racing,” he replied with a wink, but he slowed down to a reasonable speed as they headed toward the city.
Colin wasn’t amused. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out the window as they made their way toward the hotel. There was some tension there, yes, but it was mixed with a good amount of anticipation, and Ryan had to wonder when the last time Colin just let himself live was. Then again, before yesterday he could ask himself the same question.
The drive was relatively short, and in no time they were pulling up to the Sheraton's lobby entrance. Colin left Ryan alone to figure out their final destination as he headed inside to gather his luggage and check out.
Soon they were ready to get back on the road, but Ryan still had no idea where they were going. All he kept thinking was that they had to go north; he reasoned that it was because north meant Washington and Vancouver; it meant home, but he didn't actually plan on heading to either. Sure, he was fine teasing the boundaries of the law enough to head out of Los Angeles county, but he was pretty sure leaving the state could get him into trouble, and leaving the country would have been even worse, though in truth, all he really wanted to do was head up to Vancouver and visit all of his old haunts.
Without a real destination in mind, Ryan just started to drive. He jumped back on the 101 automatically, but he bypassed Sherman Oaks and kept going, deciding he would cut back down and take the scenic route up the coast on Rt. 1 as opposed to the heading straight north on 5, like he had the day before. He wouldn’t get the same speed as he had on those long, straight shots, but the view was a hell of a lot nicer, and the more leisurely route would give him time to think.
Ryan lit up a cigarette, then passed it over to Colin, who took it hesitatingly before taking a long, deep, fortifying drag. He closed his eyes as he cracked a window and blew out a thick plume of smoke, and Ryan smiled happily as he lit up another for himself.
In short order they had reached the coast and headed north toward Ventura. Luscious vegetation bordered the road, breaking up every so often to show a hint of sparkling blue water to their left. Ryan longed to pull the car over just to stop and take a good, long look at California’s beauty. It was one of the few things he missed after moving to Washington. Sure, Washington had trees and ocean views, too, but nothing beat the California shoreline. Nonetheless, the road was still calling him, so he kept driving, satisfying himself with a longing glance now and again as they continued driving.
And driving the Aston Martin was fun. Just because Ryan wasn’t flirting with 140 miles per hour didn’t mean he was taking it slow, and to his amusement, Colin still clutched the door handle on the sharper curves. At the same time, however, he’d also relaxed significantly since the time they’d set out. It pleased him that somewhere in the past hour Colin seemed to have given in and decided to trust Ryan with his life.
When Ryan wasn’t watching the road or the water, he looked at Colin, finding his expression to be oddly peaceful. It was a far cry from the demeanor he'd worn at the taping in 2013, and for the first time since that strange flash of light that had apparently sent him to the past, Ryan was truly, honestly glad he was here.
“Too bad this is probably just a dream,” he said to himself.
Colin blinked and turned to him, frowning. “What?”
The road was a twisting mess at the moment, which meant that Ryan had slowed enough for Colin to be able to hear him despite the open windows and his low tone. He hadn't meant for Colin to hear, but it didn't bother him, either. He shrugged, grinning. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, come on. Tell me,” Colin replied, giving Ryan a curious look. “What do you mean this is probably a dream?”
“Well…” Ryan said, looking for a way to explain it to him and coming up short. “It is,” he finally said. And he realized he meant it in more than just the obvious sense. “You and me on the road together. It’s just…perfect.”
Colin nodded. “Yeah,” he said thoughtfully.
Ryan glanced over to him, but Colin was facing the window, and Ryan couldn’t see his expression. What he could see was the thickly wooded area beyond him and the small houses that broke up the green. It reminded him of his home growning up, and a sudden, desperate ache panged in his chest as he imagined what it might be like, not to be back in the past with Colin in Vancouver, but to be with him in the future.
“Perfect,” he said again.
The car started to veer off the road, and Ryan shook himself from his reverie to pay attention to his driving once again. His face felt hot, and he was sure he was blushing, so he hurried on, “Sometimes I guess you just need a vacation away from your real life.”
“Only if real life isn’t all you’d hope it would be,” Colin replied, but it sounded more like an agreement than an argument, and Ryan glanced at him curiously again.
If only he could see Colin’s face. He’d love to try and read him, to see exactly what he was thinking, but Colin still refused to look his way.
He didn't have long to worry about it, however, as his stomach gave a sudden sorrowful rumble, and he remembered that while he’d done his fair share of drinking in the past twelve hours, he hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday’s microwave burrito.
“You hungry?” he asked, scanning the road side signs for mentions of food. There was an exit coming up that looked promising.
“Starving,” Colin answered immediately.
Grinning, Ryan jerked the car to the right and zipped up the off ramp, once more just trying to get a rise out of his companion. He was rewarded with a soft string of curses from Colin, but he just laughed.
Once they'd left the highway, they found themselves in an indistinct commercial district with a number of stores and restaurants lining the street. Ryan cruised along for a minute, looking this way and that. They all kind of looked the same. Choosing one at random, he turned into the lot, then went to fish a cigarette from the pack he had shoved in his drink holder, but the box was empty.
“Hey,” he said, glancing in the rearview mirror at the overnight bag sitting in the back seat. He hoped he'd remembered to pack the carton of cigarettes he'd found in his room. “Can you grab my smokes from my bag? You can have one.”
Colin twisted around and fumbled in his bag for a moment, and Ryan busied himself with finding a good parking spot.
Once they were stopped, he checked out the restaurants. There was a little hole in the wall Mexican place that called to him-he didn't think he'd had decent Mexican food since he'd moved to Washington. There was also pizza, Chinese, and a few other shops. He was just about to turn to Colin to ask him what he was in the mood for when Colin finally finished his quest. He righted himself in his seat holding a pack of cigarettes, but that wasn't the only thing he'd found. The shiny black iPhone was held aloft in his other hand, and Ryan was sure the hollow feeling in his stomach suddenly had nothing to do with hunger.
“What is-?” Colin started, looking at the phone as his other hand outstretched to offer the cigarettes, but suddenly he cut off.
Ryan frowned and carefully took the pack of cigarettes from his grasp, trying to figure out how in the world he was going to explain the technology to him. That wasn't the only thing that had Ryan frowning, however. Something about Colin's expression chilled him; for just a moment it looked like no one was home behind those soft hazel eyes. But a second later, Colin was back, shaking his head, his eyes clearing. “Sorry. What was I saying?” He looked at the iPhone again, then back at Ryan, and then he slowly turned to look out the windshield, as though he was having a hard time concentrating on any one thing.
Still frowning, Ryan plucked the iPhone from Colin's hand as well. Suddenly he was far more concerned with Colin's strange behavior than trying to explain it. “It's a phone,” he said carefully. He paused, then added, “From the future.” Colin didn't react to that, which just worried Ryan further. Had he seen something on the phone that put him off? Had he just remembered something that distracted him? Hell, had he had a stroke?
“A phone?” Colin asked. He looked at the iPhone again, then back out at the parking lot. “Right, yeah. Uh...where are we?”
It was a good question. Ryan hadn't been paying but so much attention to the road signs other than looking for restaurant logos. He unlocked the phone and activated the mapping application. The phone's internal GPS pinpointed them after a moment. “Uh...Ventura, it looks like.”
“Right,” Colin said again.
“Are you okay?”
“Hmm?” Colin looked back at him, staring at him for a beat as the question registered. “Yeah, no, I'm fine. Just, um...just hungry.”
“Okay,” Ryan replied, watching him warily. “How's Mexican sound?”
Colin had agreed heartily to the suggestion, and 15 minutes later they were seated in the restaurant with steaming plates on the table before them. They were filled to almost overflowing with tamales swimming in an unctuous red sauce, creamy refried beans topped with melted cheese, and a healthy portion of yellow rice sprinkled with bright red and green peppers. Ryan dug into the food like he hadn't eaten in days, and maybe it was because he practically hadn't, but everything was delicious, and he had to fight from uttering guttural moans of pleasure at every bite. Along with the main course, they had house made chips and salsa with pints of crisp, cold beer to wash it all down. It was just about the closest thing to heaven Ryan could imagine.
They hadn't spoken of the incident in the parking lot since entering the restaurant, and Ryan had no desire to broach it now. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that Colin had gotten upset with him again for some reason, and he didn't want to poke the bear when everything had been going so well. Hopefully a full belly would smooth over any ill will. Luckily, Colin seemed more absorbed in fiddling with his phone than talking while they ate, and Ryan took advantage of the respite to study what he could see of their surrounding area through the large plate glass window next to the table.
Just across the street was a shabby little motel called the Venture Inn. Ryan had no plans to spend the night, but the more he ate, the more the day's events were catching up to him, and he was practically falling asleep by the time they finished their meal. He pointed the place out to Colin and suggested they get a room and crash for a few hours. Colin seemed amenable to the idea, so they paid the bill and headed over.
The place was cheap, with old furniture and faded paint, but it was clean enough, and when Ryan laid down in one of the room’s two double beds, all he wanted to do was close his eyes. He must have been even more tired than he thought because he couldn’t even remember falling asleep. He just laid down, and then the next thing he knew he was opening his eyes as the slanting orange beams of the setting sun splayed over his face.
A creak from the next bed let him know that Colin was awake, too.
“What time is it?” he asked, stifling a yawn into his hand.
Colin took a moment to answer, and when he did, his voice was also thick with sleep. “Uh…it’s like 5:30. Should we get up?”
Ryan gave a wobbly nod, immediately yawning again. It took them both another few minutes, however, before they actually did.
“We’re getting old,” Ryan joked. He stretched his back, then started for the bathroom.
“Maybe it’s just been a really long day.”
Ryan laughed. It felt like another life time, but it had only been that morning that Colin had sprung him from jail. “You can say that again.”
After they were both refreshed, they decided it would be better to go out for dinner than to order in. Between the car ride and the nap, they’d barely done any walking since that morning, and getting their circulation going would do them both good. They exited the motel, picked a direction, and just started off. Ryan studied the street as he walked, taking it all in at a glance.
Ventura came off to him like a wannabe L.A.-scruffy in places, but with enough charm to pull it off. The street was welcoming and had a decent amount of foot traffic, but Ryan got the impression that it was the type of place that got a little iffy after dark. Still, they had a decent amount of daylight left, and he was sure they would get back to the hotel long before the riffraff came out to play. Colin, however, hadn't liked the idea of leaving the car alone. He looked back a few times as they walked, arguing that they'd come back to find its tires missing or worse, but Ryan couldn't bring himself to really care.
Walking along with a cigarette in one hand and Colin at the other reminded Ryan a lot of being young in Vancouver. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and lifted his face to the sun, enjoying the simple act of strolling down a city block with nowhere in particular he had to be.
In short order they came upon a smattering of small, quirky shops. Ryan stopped to peer into one, marveling at the “latest technology.” All the phones had buttons, much to his glee, and for a moment Ryan considered the idea that-between the food and now this-he really had died and this was his own personal heaven.
“Huh,” Colin said beside him, studying the display as well.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Colin had a small smile on his face, however, and after a little prodding from Ryan he confessed, “I guess I just find it strange.
“You being so interested in all these cell phones, I mean,” he finished after a moment. “You usually go running for the hills at any sign of progress.”
“Well,” Ryan replied, almost laughing, “there's just something about these guys that I like.”
Colin gave him a searching look, still wearing a slight smile. “They don't seem very interesting compared to that future phone. Where did you get that, anyway?”
“Bah,” Ryan said, waving a hand dismissively. He nodded toward the direction they'd been going, and they started off again. “It's not that impressive. And I got it from Drew.” He'd thought up the cover story while he'd been staring out the window at the restaurant, and with Drew being the wealthiest of them, he seemed like the best scapegoat.
“He does like his gadgets,” Colin agreed, nodding along.
“That he does,” Ryan replied, grinning. He tapped another cigarette from his pack and lit it as they walked.
They were silent for another few minutes. Ryan didn't mind. He enjoyed the feeling of the hot afternoon sun coupled with the light breeze, even if it did have a little of that city funk to it.
“So,” Colin said eventually.
Ryan gave him a look, but Colin was staring straight ahead.
“Hm?”
“What are we doing here, anyway?”
Ryan chuckled. “Sightseeing?”
But Colin wasn't buying it. He raised his eyebrows and threw Ryan a sardonic look. “Seriously.” Suddenly he stopped, turning to face Ryan fully, and there was something different about him now. “Something happened on the set, didn't it?”
Ryan met his gaze steadily. “I don't know what you mean.” Things had been going too well, he chided himself. Of course something had to come along and spoil it.
“When you hit that light?” Colin prompted insistently. “Something happened. Talk to me.”
“I...” Ryan looked away, frowning.
“Ryan....”
Ryan shook his head. “I-” Suddenly, something caught his eye, and he grinned anew as he spotted his escape route: a little, grungy building that boasted the title Billy O's Bar and Saloon. “I am way too sober to be talking about it now,” he said. He waved for Colin to follow, ignoring his muttered protest, then jogged the rest of the way to the building, pleased to see it open and bustling with activity. “Ask me again in an hour,” he said, winking at Colin and heading inside.
Without waiting for Colin's response, Ryan pushed his way through the front door. Once inside, all Ryan could think was that “saloon” was incredibly appropriate nomenclature, mostly because he didn't imagine that one inch of it had been cleaned since about the mid 1800s. If he'd thought Mother Lode was a dive, it was only because he hadn't laid eyes on this place yet. The lights were dim, but Ryan didn't know if that was for atmosphere or because a number of bulbs were burnt out. The floors were grimy, the booth seats were cracked, and there were scuffs and scratches on every single surface. The whole place smelled of beer, piss, and stale popcorn, which appeared to be available for free from a dank looking machine that sat against one wall. No one was eating it, however, and Ryan didn’t blame them.
A small stage in the back had a sign on it boasting karaoke night, though for the moment it was bare.
“Really?” Colin asked, coming up behind him.
Ryan just shrugged and moved toward the bar.
Considering the state of the place, Ryan thought it was best to go with bottled beer, and he ordered a couple, which came a moment later along with a bowl of broken pretzels that Ryan immediately pushed away. Like he had back in Mother Lode, Ryan turned to survey the room, but it felt infinitely different with Colin at his side. Back in Mother Lode, he'd been the outsider; he'd infiltrated a community he didn't belong in, and had immediately gone on the offensive in an attempt to conquer their weakest link. Here, he was just as much an outsider, but somehow that didn't matter when he had Colin at his side. He was comfortable, like they were on stage together, and this was just another scene. He was happy, at ease.
The clientele, meanwhile, matched the saloon's décor: grizzled, abused, and thirty years past their prime.
Ryan grinned and downed a full half of his beer. “I think I love this place.”
“Seriously?” Colin asked beside him in the same tone he'd used upon their initial entrance. He was drinking his beer pretty rapidly as well, as though he acknowledged that he was going to be stuck there for the better part of the night and was going to need to be three sheets to the wind to get any kind of enjoyment out of it.
Ryan shrugged and intoned, “Hey, to each his own,” before downing the rest of his drink and ordering two more.
To Colin's credit, he waited just over an hour-and five beers-before attempting Ryan again.
By then they were both feeling the alcohol, and were nearly slumping over the bar in inebriated contemplation when Colin said, “So...really, Ry...what the hell are we doing here?”
“Drinking!” Ryan crowed, raising his 6th beer gleefully. There was a happy cry from the crowd, but a moment later they had all quieted down again, going back to their drinking as though such outbursts were commonplace.
It was obvious that wasn’t the answer Colin was looking for, but he couldn’t help but chuckle as he finished off his beer, then ordered another. His tone was sober, however, as he said, “You’re doing a lot of drinking.”
“Don’t I know it?” Ryan asked. He was peering into the top of his bottle as he tried to gauge how much beer was left with his mind in a pleasant, fuzzy haze. “You should have seen me yesterday. I think I had two full pitchers before I bought the car, and I have no idea how many scotch…scotches? Whatever. I don’t know how many I had at the gay bar.”
There was a sputtering cough to Ryan’s right, and he turned to see Colin wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.
“You okay?”
Colin nodded. “It went down the wrong pipe,” he explained, then coughed again and took another drink. Ryan rubbed his back soothingly, then turned around to face the room, leaning heavily back against the bar. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he was in a talking mood-a sharing mood. He’d kept so much inside in the past 30 something years. Maybe it was time.
“I probably shouldn’t drink so much,” he said, lifting the bottle to look it over again. “Don’t want to get arrested again.”
“For public intoxication,” Colin said.
Ryan laughed. “Well, mostly for hitting that fucking paparazzo, but yeah, I think that was tacked on, too.” His laughter died down, and he frowned. He turned toward Colin, but he couldn’t look him in the eye. “I want to thank you for picking me up this morning. You didn’t have to, and I know I made you miss your plane, but you came anyway, and that was just really…really good of you. You know?” He finally looked up into Colin’s eyes, knowing he was coming off like an emotional twat, but he was oddly okay with that. “I don’t think I know any other guys who would do this for me: get me out of jail, take me home, and then go on this dumb road trip-and I know you just want to keep an eye on me so I don’t do anything else stupid, but I just want to say that I appreciate you. You know? I really fucking appreciate you.”
Colin was giving him an amused yet scrutinizing look. “You’ve definitely had too much to drink.”
In response, Ryan grinned, raised his beer, and then took another long sip.
“So, why, though?” Colin persisted. “Why all the drinking? What happened?”
Ryan snorted. He’d finished his drink, and he twisted around to put it down on the bar, but he didn’t order another. “You mean aside from deciding to divorce my wife?”
Colin was quiet for a moment, frowning, then nodded. “Aside from that,” he said. “Something else happened before then, right? You said you didn’t want to talk about hitting the light on set until you’ve had something to drink. Well, I think you’ve had more than enough. So talk.”
Maybe Colin was right, but Ryan still hesitated. He had no idea how to explain everything without sounding insane, and no matter if they were in the past, this was a dream, or he was dead, he really didn’t want Colin thinking of him that way.
He went back to take another pull from his beer before remembering that it was empty. He ended up just holding the bottle and staring at the tiny beads of condensation on its side as he started, “Has your life ever flashed before your eyes?”
Colin’s eyes widened curiously. “Is that what happened when you hit the light?”
Ryan shrugged. “More or less, yeah.” If you counted living through the past decade only to have it erased from existence as your life flashing before your eyes, he thought, but he didn't know another way to get the idea across. It was real. He was sure of it. The phone sitting heavily in his pocket was evidence of that. He put his hand over it, and found the smooth plastic pleasantly warm.
He considered showing it to Colin again, but even if he could convince him he’d come back from the future, that would just end up raising more questions than he was willing to answer-from how their careers and the future of the show went to why Colin was touring with Brad while Ryan had gone off and garnered his own posse. He wondered if that last would sound like spite on his part.
He wondered if it had been.
And furthermore, it brought up the question of why they barely spoke. Or why Colin had been so cold to him, not that Ryan was sure of that particular answer. But in any case, he decided it was best to go on pretending.
“You didn’t like what you saw,” Colin was saying, bringing him back to the conversation.
Ryan grinned wryly. That was the understatement of the century. “Not particularly.”
Realization seemed to hit Colin, and he looked around at the bar, seeing it anew. “And this. All this. Are you trying to change it? Change the future?”
“Or drown it all in beer,” Ryan quipped. “And speaking of which…” He motioned to the bartender, deciding it was time for another one.
Colin ordered another one as well, and there was a lull in the conversation as they both thoughtfully sipped their drinks. The bar was getting rowdier by the minute, and suddenly Ryan was starting to think he’d had his fill of bars. This was his third one in two days, and each subsequent one got progressively dingier. If he kept up the trend, soon he’d be blowing a hobo in a dark alley for a sip of scotch.
“You know,” Colin said suddenly, “running away isn’t going to help.”
Ryan gave him a withering look. Apparently 6 beers made him an emotional twat, but 7 turned him into a grumpy bulldog. He was finished sharing, and he sure as hell didn’t need a lecture.
Colin didn’t let it deter him, however, as he continued, “Look at where running away has gotten you so far.” He gestured broadly across the interior of the bar. “And I bet it’s what made the future so crappy for you, too. Running away. Pushing people away. You have a wife and-”
“Had a wife,” Ryan corrected.
Colin ignored him. “And kids,” he emphasized, “And getting yourself arrested and drinking yourself to death isn’t going to do them any favors, now is it?”
“You never know!” Ryan snapped. He defiantly downed his beer and motioned for yet another. Damn, but he needed a cigarette. He fiddled with the pack, but his hands weren’t obeying his brain, and after a moment he gave up, sighing heavily. “What does it fucking matter?” he said to no one in particular. The bartender put down the fresh beer, but Ryan didn’t touch it. He stared at it for a long time, then shook his head.
“Seriously,” he said in a quiet, sardonic tone, “they’ll probably want me dead after those pictures of me kissing that guy, Dick, come out.” He snorted. “Come out. Kind of appropriate.”
“Is it?” Colin asked.
Ryan turned to look at him. They watched each other for a moment, and then out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw Colin’s hand sitting on the bar top. Steeling himself, he reached out and laid his hand over top of it. Holding Colin’s gaze steadily, he asked, “What if it was?”
To be continued...
Author: Clay
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: When a freak accident drops an impossible opportunity in Ryan's lap, it's up to him to decide whether to squander it, or to change his fate by going after the one thing he's always wanted.
Word Count: ~5000
Prompt & Author's Notes: Again, for the Thon Prompt 33: Strangled by the red string. As always, betaed by asuka14. This chapter is split in half because it was very long, probably about 8,000 words total. The second part will be much shorter, but it's action packed! ^_^
Chapter Six (Part A)
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to run them over,” Colin said as he slid into the passenger’s seat. He turned and nodded back toward the smattering of paparazzi still crowded around the gate.
Ryan chuckled as he started the car. “Tempting,” he said, “but I think I’m going to try to stay out of jail for a couple days.”
He did a K turn in the driveway and headed toward the gate. They’d loaded the luggage and had started to discuss a destination, but they’d only gotten as far as deciding to pick up Colin’s things from the hotel. They would figure out the rest as they went.
As the gate started to open, the paparazzi moved back, and as soon as he had clearance, Ryan floored the engine and shot through the startled crowd with a manic cackle.
“Ryan!” Colin gasped, twisted around to make sure no one had been hit.
Ryan could see them through the rear view mirror, staring after him with mouths agape. He just laughed harder.
“What happened to staying out of jail?” Colin asked him, turning back around to sit properly in his seat.
“No one was hit.”
“But they could have been!”
“Then they’d learn not to invade peoples’ privacy, wouldn’t they?”
Colin’s only response was a disapproving glare, but Ryan paid it no mind. Back behind the wheel of the Aston Martin, this time with Colin at his side, he was flying high. He took the on ramp to the highway at a delightfully dangerous speed, just to get another rise out of Colin.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” Colin griped, clutching the door handle, his knuckles white.
Ryan chuckled. “Just trying to get your heart racing,” he replied with a wink, but he slowed down to a reasonable speed as they headed toward the city.
Colin wasn’t amused. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out the window as they made their way toward the hotel. There was some tension there, yes, but it was mixed with a good amount of anticipation, and Ryan had to wonder when the last time Colin just let himself live was. Then again, before yesterday he could ask himself the same question.
The drive was relatively short, and in no time they were pulling up to the Sheraton's lobby entrance. Colin left Ryan alone to figure out their final destination as he headed inside to gather his luggage and check out.
Soon they were ready to get back on the road, but Ryan still had no idea where they were going. All he kept thinking was that they had to go north; he reasoned that it was because north meant Washington and Vancouver; it meant home, but he didn't actually plan on heading to either. Sure, he was fine teasing the boundaries of the law enough to head out of Los Angeles county, but he was pretty sure leaving the state could get him into trouble, and leaving the country would have been even worse, though in truth, all he really wanted to do was head up to Vancouver and visit all of his old haunts.
Without a real destination in mind, Ryan just started to drive. He jumped back on the 101 automatically, but he bypassed Sherman Oaks and kept going, deciding he would cut back down and take the scenic route up the coast on Rt. 1 as opposed to the heading straight north on 5, like he had the day before. He wouldn’t get the same speed as he had on those long, straight shots, but the view was a hell of a lot nicer, and the more leisurely route would give him time to think.
Ryan lit up a cigarette, then passed it over to Colin, who took it hesitatingly before taking a long, deep, fortifying drag. He closed his eyes as he cracked a window and blew out a thick plume of smoke, and Ryan smiled happily as he lit up another for himself.
In short order they had reached the coast and headed north toward Ventura. Luscious vegetation bordered the road, breaking up every so often to show a hint of sparkling blue water to their left. Ryan longed to pull the car over just to stop and take a good, long look at California’s beauty. It was one of the few things he missed after moving to Washington. Sure, Washington had trees and ocean views, too, but nothing beat the California shoreline. Nonetheless, the road was still calling him, so he kept driving, satisfying himself with a longing glance now and again as they continued driving.
And driving the Aston Martin was fun. Just because Ryan wasn’t flirting with 140 miles per hour didn’t mean he was taking it slow, and to his amusement, Colin still clutched the door handle on the sharper curves. At the same time, however, he’d also relaxed significantly since the time they’d set out. It pleased him that somewhere in the past hour Colin seemed to have given in and decided to trust Ryan with his life.
When Ryan wasn’t watching the road or the water, he looked at Colin, finding his expression to be oddly peaceful. It was a far cry from the demeanor he'd worn at the taping in 2013, and for the first time since that strange flash of light that had apparently sent him to the past, Ryan was truly, honestly glad he was here.
“Too bad this is probably just a dream,” he said to himself.
Colin blinked and turned to him, frowning. “What?”
The road was a twisting mess at the moment, which meant that Ryan had slowed enough for Colin to be able to hear him despite the open windows and his low tone. He hadn't meant for Colin to hear, but it didn't bother him, either. He shrugged, grinning. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, come on. Tell me,” Colin replied, giving Ryan a curious look. “What do you mean this is probably a dream?”
“Well…” Ryan said, looking for a way to explain it to him and coming up short. “It is,” he finally said. And he realized he meant it in more than just the obvious sense. “You and me on the road together. It’s just…perfect.”
Colin nodded. “Yeah,” he said thoughtfully.
Ryan glanced over to him, but Colin was facing the window, and Ryan couldn’t see his expression. What he could see was the thickly wooded area beyond him and the small houses that broke up the green. It reminded him of his home growning up, and a sudden, desperate ache panged in his chest as he imagined what it might be like, not to be back in the past with Colin in Vancouver, but to be with him in the future.
“Perfect,” he said again.
The car started to veer off the road, and Ryan shook himself from his reverie to pay attention to his driving once again. His face felt hot, and he was sure he was blushing, so he hurried on, “Sometimes I guess you just need a vacation away from your real life.”
“Only if real life isn’t all you’d hope it would be,” Colin replied, but it sounded more like an agreement than an argument, and Ryan glanced at him curiously again.
If only he could see Colin’s face. He’d love to try and read him, to see exactly what he was thinking, but Colin still refused to look his way.
He didn't have long to worry about it, however, as his stomach gave a sudden sorrowful rumble, and he remembered that while he’d done his fair share of drinking in the past twelve hours, he hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday’s microwave burrito.
“You hungry?” he asked, scanning the road side signs for mentions of food. There was an exit coming up that looked promising.
“Starving,” Colin answered immediately.
Grinning, Ryan jerked the car to the right and zipped up the off ramp, once more just trying to get a rise out of his companion. He was rewarded with a soft string of curses from Colin, but he just laughed.
Once they'd left the highway, they found themselves in an indistinct commercial district with a number of stores and restaurants lining the street. Ryan cruised along for a minute, looking this way and that. They all kind of looked the same. Choosing one at random, he turned into the lot, then went to fish a cigarette from the pack he had shoved in his drink holder, but the box was empty.
“Hey,” he said, glancing in the rearview mirror at the overnight bag sitting in the back seat. He hoped he'd remembered to pack the carton of cigarettes he'd found in his room. “Can you grab my smokes from my bag? You can have one.”
Colin twisted around and fumbled in his bag for a moment, and Ryan busied himself with finding a good parking spot.
Once they were stopped, he checked out the restaurants. There was a little hole in the wall Mexican place that called to him-he didn't think he'd had decent Mexican food since he'd moved to Washington. There was also pizza, Chinese, and a few other shops. He was just about to turn to Colin to ask him what he was in the mood for when Colin finally finished his quest. He righted himself in his seat holding a pack of cigarettes, but that wasn't the only thing he'd found. The shiny black iPhone was held aloft in his other hand, and Ryan was sure the hollow feeling in his stomach suddenly had nothing to do with hunger.
“What is-?” Colin started, looking at the phone as his other hand outstretched to offer the cigarettes, but suddenly he cut off.
Ryan frowned and carefully took the pack of cigarettes from his grasp, trying to figure out how in the world he was going to explain the technology to him. That wasn't the only thing that had Ryan frowning, however. Something about Colin's expression chilled him; for just a moment it looked like no one was home behind those soft hazel eyes. But a second later, Colin was back, shaking his head, his eyes clearing. “Sorry. What was I saying?” He looked at the iPhone again, then back at Ryan, and then he slowly turned to look out the windshield, as though he was having a hard time concentrating on any one thing.
Still frowning, Ryan plucked the iPhone from Colin's hand as well. Suddenly he was far more concerned with Colin's strange behavior than trying to explain it. “It's a phone,” he said carefully. He paused, then added, “From the future.” Colin didn't react to that, which just worried Ryan further. Had he seen something on the phone that put him off? Had he just remembered something that distracted him? Hell, had he had a stroke?
“A phone?” Colin asked. He looked at the iPhone again, then back out at the parking lot. “Right, yeah. Uh...where are we?”
It was a good question. Ryan hadn't been paying but so much attention to the road signs other than looking for restaurant logos. He unlocked the phone and activated the mapping application. The phone's internal GPS pinpointed them after a moment. “Uh...Ventura, it looks like.”
“Right,” Colin said again.
“Are you okay?”
“Hmm?” Colin looked back at him, staring at him for a beat as the question registered. “Yeah, no, I'm fine. Just, um...just hungry.”
“Okay,” Ryan replied, watching him warily. “How's Mexican sound?”
Colin had agreed heartily to the suggestion, and 15 minutes later they were seated in the restaurant with steaming plates on the table before them. They were filled to almost overflowing with tamales swimming in an unctuous red sauce, creamy refried beans topped with melted cheese, and a healthy portion of yellow rice sprinkled with bright red and green peppers. Ryan dug into the food like he hadn't eaten in days, and maybe it was because he practically hadn't, but everything was delicious, and he had to fight from uttering guttural moans of pleasure at every bite. Along with the main course, they had house made chips and salsa with pints of crisp, cold beer to wash it all down. It was just about the closest thing to heaven Ryan could imagine.
They hadn't spoken of the incident in the parking lot since entering the restaurant, and Ryan had no desire to broach it now. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that Colin had gotten upset with him again for some reason, and he didn't want to poke the bear when everything had been going so well. Hopefully a full belly would smooth over any ill will. Luckily, Colin seemed more absorbed in fiddling with his phone than talking while they ate, and Ryan took advantage of the respite to study what he could see of their surrounding area through the large plate glass window next to the table.
Just across the street was a shabby little motel called the Venture Inn. Ryan had no plans to spend the night, but the more he ate, the more the day's events were catching up to him, and he was practically falling asleep by the time they finished their meal. He pointed the place out to Colin and suggested they get a room and crash for a few hours. Colin seemed amenable to the idea, so they paid the bill and headed over.
The place was cheap, with old furniture and faded paint, but it was clean enough, and when Ryan laid down in one of the room’s two double beds, all he wanted to do was close his eyes. He must have been even more tired than he thought because he couldn’t even remember falling asleep. He just laid down, and then the next thing he knew he was opening his eyes as the slanting orange beams of the setting sun splayed over his face.
A creak from the next bed let him know that Colin was awake, too.
“What time is it?” he asked, stifling a yawn into his hand.
Colin took a moment to answer, and when he did, his voice was also thick with sleep. “Uh…it’s like 5:30. Should we get up?”
Ryan gave a wobbly nod, immediately yawning again. It took them both another few minutes, however, before they actually did.
“We’re getting old,” Ryan joked. He stretched his back, then started for the bathroom.
“Maybe it’s just been a really long day.”
Ryan laughed. It felt like another life time, but it had only been that morning that Colin had sprung him from jail. “You can say that again.”
After they were both refreshed, they decided it would be better to go out for dinner than to order in. Between the car ride and the nap, they’d barely done any walking since that morning, and getting their circulation going would do them both good. They exited the motel, picked a direction, and just started off. Ryan studied the street as he walked, taking it all in at a glance.
Ventura came off to him like a wannabe L.A.-scruffy in places, but with enough charm to pull it off. The street was welcoming and had a decent amount of foot traffic, but Ryan got the impression that it was the type of place that got a little iffy after dark. Still, they had a decent amount of daylight left, and he was sure they would get back to the hotel long before the riffraff came out to play. Colin, however, hadn't liked the idea of leaving the car alone. He looked back a few times as they walked, arguing that they'd come back to find its tires missing or worse, but Ryan couldn't bring himself to really care.
Walking along with a cigarette in one hand and Colin at the other reminded Ryan a lot of being young in Vancouver. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and lifted his face to the sun, enjoying the simple act of strolling down a city block with nowhere in particular he had to be.
In short order they came upon a smattering of small, quirky shops. Ryan stopped to peer into one, marveling at the “latest technology.” All the phones had buttons, much to his glee, and for a moment Ryan considered the idea that-between the food and now this-he really had died and this was his own personal heaven.
“Huh,” Colin said beside him, studying the display as well.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Colin had a small smile on his face, however, and after a little prodding from Ryan he confessed, “I guess I just find it strange.
“You being so interested in all these cell phones, I mean,” he finished after a moment. “You usually go running for the hills at any sign of progress.”
“Well,” Ryan replied, almost laughing, “there's just something about these guys that I like.”
Colin gave him a searching look, still wearing a slight smile. “They don't seem very interesting compared to that future phone. Where did you get that, anyway?”
“Bah,” Ryan said, waving a hand dismissively. He nodded toward the direction they'd been going, and they started off again. “It's not that impressive. And I got it from Drew.” He'd thought up the cover story while he'd been staring out the window at the restaurant, and with Drew being the wealthiest of them, he seemed like the best scapegoat.
“He does like his gadgets,” Colin agreed, nodding along.
“That he does,” Ryan replied, grinning. He tapped another cigarette from his pack and lit it as they walked.
They were silent for another few minutes. Ryan didn't mind. He enjoyed the feeling of the hot afternoon sun coupled with the light breeze, even if it did have a little of that city funk to it.
“So,” Colin said eventually.
Ryan gave him a look, but Colin was staring straight ahead.
“Hm?”
“What are we doing here, anyway?”
Ryan chuckled. “Sightseeing?”
But Colin wasn't buying it. He raised his eyebrows and threw Ryan a sardonic look. “Seriously.” Suddenly he stopped, turning to face Ryan fully, and there was something different about him now. “Something happened on the set, didn't it?”
Ryan met his gaze steadily. “I don't know what you mean.” Things had been going too well, he chided himself. Of course something had to come along and spoil it.
“When you hit that light?” Colin prompted insistently. “Something happened. Talk to me.”
“I...” Ryan looked away, frowning.
“Ryan....”
Ryan shook his head. “I-” Suddenly, something caught his eye, and he grinned anew as he spotted his escape route: a little, grungy building that boasted the title Billy O's Bar and Saloon. “I am way too sober to be talking about it now,” he said. He waved for Colin to follow, ignoring his muttered protest, then jogged the rest of the way to the building, pleased to see it open and bustling with activity. “Ask me again in an hour,” he said, winking at Colin and heading inside.
Without waiting for Colin's response, Ryan pushed his way through the front door. Once inside, all Ryan could think was that “saloon” was incredibly appropriate nomenclature, mostly because he didn't imagine that one inch of it had been cleaned since about the mid 1800s. If he'd thought Mother Lode was a dive, it was only because he hadn't laid eyes on this place yet. The lights were dim, but Ryan didn't know if that was for atmosphere or because a number of bulbs were burnt out. The floors were grimy, the booth seats were cracked, and there were scuffs and scratches on every single surface. The whole place smelled of beer, piss, and stale popcorn, which appeared to be available for free from a dank looking machine that sat against one wall. No one was eating it, however, and Ryan didn’t blame them.
A small stage in the back had a sign on it boasting karaoke night, though for the moment it was bare.
“Really?” Colin asked, coming up behind him.
Ryan just shrugged and moved toward the bar.
Considering the state of the place, Ryan thought it was best to go with bottled beer, and he ordered a couple, which came a moment later along with a bowl of broken pretzels that Ryan immediately pushed away. Like he had back in Mother Lode, Ryan turned to survey the room, but it felt infinitely different with Colin at his side. Back in Mother Lode, he'd been the outsider; he'd infiltrated a community he didn't belong in, and had immediately gone on the offensive in an attempt to conquer their weakest link. Here, he was just as much an outsider, but somehow that didn't matter when he had Colin at his side. He was comfortable, like they were on stage together, and this was just another scene. He was happy, at ease.
The clientele, meanwhile, matched the saloon's décor: grizzled, abused, and thirty years past their prime.
Ryan grinned and downed a full half of his beer. “I think I love this place.”
“Seriously?” Colin asked beside him in the same tone he'd used upon their initial entrance. He was drinking his beer pretty rapidly as well, as though he acknowledged that he was going to be stuck there for the better part of the night and was going to need to be three sheets to the wind to get any kind of enjoyment out of it.
Ryan shrugged and intoned, “Hey, to each his own,” before downing the rest of his drink and ordering two more.
To Colin's credit, he waited just over an hour-and five beers-before attempting Ryan again.
By then they were both feeling the alcohol, and were nearly slumping over the bar in inebriated contemplation when Colin said, “So...really, Ry...what the hell are we doing here?”
“Drinking!” Ryan crowed, raising his 6th beer gleefully. There was a happy cry from the crowd, but a moment later they had all quieted down again, going back to their drinking as though such outbursts were commonplace.
It was obvious that wasn’t the answer Colin was looking for, but he couldn’t help but chuckle as he finished off his beer, then ordered another. His tone was sober, however, as he said, “You’re doing a lot of drinking.”
“Don’t I know it?” Ryan asked. He was peering into the top of his bottle as he tried to gauge how much beer was left with his mind in a pleasant, fuzzy haze. “You should have seen me yesterday. I think I had two full pitchers before I bought the car, and I have no idea how many scotch…scotches? Whatever. I don’t know how many I had at the gay bar.”
There was a sputtering cough to Ryan’s right, and he turned to see Colin wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.
“You okay?”
Colin nodded. “It went down the wrong pipe,” he explained, then coughed again and took another drink. Ryan rubbed his back soothingly, then turned around to face the room, leaning heavily back against the bar. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he was in a talking mood-a sharing mood. He’d kept so much inside in the past 30 something years. Maybe it was time.
“I probably shouldn’t drink so much,” he said, lifting the bottle to look it over again. “Don’t want to get arrested again.”
“For public intoxication,” Colin said.
Ryan laughed. “Well, mostly for hitting that fucking paparazzo, but yeah, I think that was tacked on, too.” His laughter died down, and he frowned. He turned toward Colin, but he couldn’t look him in the eye. “I want to thank you for picking me up this morning. You didn’t have to, and I know I made you miss your plane, but you came anyway, and that was just really…really good of you. You know?” He finally looked up into Colin’s eyes, knowing he was coming off like an emotional twat, but he was oddly okay with that. “I don’t think I know any other guys who would do this for me: get me out of jail, take me home, and then go on this dumb road trip-and I know you just want to keep an eye on me so I don’t do anything else stupid, but I just want to say that I appreciate you. You know? I really fucking appreciate you.”
Colin was giving him an amused yet scrutinizing look. “You’ve definitely had too much to drink.”
In response, Ryan grinned, raised his beer, and then took another long sip.
“So, why, though?” Colin persisted. “Why all the drinking? What happened?”
Ryan snorted. He’d finished his drink, and he twisted around to put it down on the bar, but he didn’t order another. “You mean aside from deciding to divorce my wife?”
Colin was quiet for a moment, frowning, then nodded. “Aside from that,” he said. “Something else happened before then, right? You said you didn’t want to talk about hitting the light on set until you’ve had something to drink. Well, I think you’ve had more than enough. So talk.”
Maybe Colin was right, but Ryan still hesitated. He had no idea how to explain everything without sounding insane, and no matter if they were in the past, this was a dream, or he was dead, he really didn’t want Colin thinking of him that way.
He went back to take another pull from his beer before remembering that it was empty. He ended up just holding the bottle and staring at the tiny beads of condensation on its side as he started, “Has your life ever flashed before your eyes?”
Colin’s eyes widened curiously. “Is that what happened when you hit the light?”
Ryan shrugged. “More or less, yeah.” If you counted living through the past decade only to have it erased from existence as your life flashing before your eyes, he thought, but he didn't know another way to get the idea across. It was real. He was sure of it. The phone sitting heavily in his pocket was evidence of that. He put his hand over it, and found the smooth plastic pleasantly warm.
He considered showing it to Colin again, but even if he could convince him he’d come back from the future, that would just end up raising more questions than he was willing to answer-from how their careers and the future of the show went to why Colin was touring with Brad while Ryan had gone off and garnered his own posse. He wondered if that last would sound like spite on his part.
He wondered if it had been.
And furthermore, it brought up the question of why they barely spoke. Or why Colin had been so cold to him, not that Ryan was sure of that particular answer. But in any case, he decided it was best to go on pretending.
“You didn’t like what you saw,” Colin was saying, bringing him back to the conversation.
Ryan grinned wryly. That was the understatement of the century. “Not particularly.”
Realization seemed to hit Colin, and he looked around at the bar, seeing it anew. “And this. All this. Are you trying to change it? Change the future?”
“Or drown it all in beer,” Ryan quipped. “And speaking of which…” He motioned to the bartender, deciding it was time for another one.
Colin ordered another one as well, and there was a lull in the conversation as they both thoughtfully sipped their drinks. The bar was getting rowdier by the minute, and suddenly Ryan was starting to think he’d had his fill of bars. This was his third one in two days, and each subsequent one got progressively dingier. If he kept up the trend, soon he’d be blowing a hobo in a dark alley for a sip of scotch.
“You know,” Colin said suddenly, “running away isn’t going to help.”
Ryan gave him a withering look. Apparently 6 beers made him an emotional twat, but 7 turned him into a grumpy bulldog. He was finished sharing, and he sure as hell didn’t need a lecture.
Colin didn’t let it deter him, however, as he continued, “Look at where running away has gotten you so far.” He gestured broadly across the interior of the bar. “And I bet it’s what made the future so crappy for you, too. Running away. Pushing people away. You have a wife and-”
“Had a wife,” Ryan corrected.
Colin ignored him. “And kids,” he emphasized, “And getting yourself arrested and drinking yourself to death isn’t going to do them any favors, now is it?”
“You never know!” Ryan snapped. He defiantly downed his beer and motioned for yet another. Damn, but he needed a cigarette. He fiddled with the pack, but his hands weren’t obeying his brain, and after a moment he gave up, sighing heavily. “What does it fucking matter?” he said to no one in particular. The bartender put down the fresh beer, but Ryan didn’t touch it. He stared at it for a long time, then shook his head.
“Seriously,” he said in a quiet, sardonic tone, “they’ll probably want me dead after those pictures of me kissing that guy, Dick, come out.” He snorted. “Come out. Kind of appropriate.”
“Is it?” Colin asked.
Ryan turned to look at him. They watched each other for a moment, and then out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw Colin’s hand sitting on the bar top. Steeling himself, he reached out and laid his hand over top of it. Holding Colin’s gaze steadily, he asked, “What if it was?”
To be continued...