Every Saint Has A Past - Chapter 3
B0ERating: PG-13
Author:
x_trademistakes (me) & cricketsinyourclothing (Sarah)
Pairings: Ryan/Brendon [Other Minor Pairings]
POV: 1st, Brendon's, Ryan's
Beta:
asbesdehyde
Summary: As adults, best friends Brendon and Ryan continue the odd game they started as children -- a fearless competition to outdo one another with daring and outrageous stunts. While they often act out to relieve one another's pain, their game might be a way to avoid the fact that they are truly meant for one another.
Disclaimer: All of this is fictional, I don’t own songs or anything unless I mention it, this is a crossover with the movie Love Me If You Dare. I don’t own anything of it either.
Author's Note: The three next chapters are better, I promise ^^ this first part is kinda boring, I know, but believe me, part two is much better :D BTW: Brendon's POV.
Previous Chapter
Chapter 3
"Blackbirds and Ghosts"
You wake up in the John F. Kennedy airport.
Hello New York, I’ve missed you.
I get up from my seat on the plane and pat Spencer on the shoulder, take my backpack and go a few steps up the narrow aisle of the plane.
"That's been one of the fastest flights of my life" Spencer laughs as he rubs his eyes, he is rested, relaxed and happy.
I probably look like I haven’t slept in 3 days, exhausted and emaciated.
Great.
Dallon and Ian had stayed in L.A., they both live there anyway.
Spencer and I look for our bags and after a while, we get into a taxi. “You okay?” He asks me when the silence becomes too awkward. Ah, If only he knew. For a couple of seconds, I considerate the possibility of telling him everything. Just for a couple of seconds, I feel the need of telling him about the dares, the game, and the past.
But past, is that, just past. Those dares, that game, and that…that boy, are the ghosts inside my closet. Those ghosts I’ve decided not to let go.
“Yeah” I reply and he just nods. He knows something is wrong. And…I don’t think I can lie to him for too long. They’ve all noticed something is wrong. Because you know, before this tour, I was the life of the party. I was the shoulder to cry on, the funny one, the friendly, sociable Brendon they’ve known for at least eight or nine years.
“Bren…” he says and I look at him waiting for the rest of the sentence to come out of his mouth. Instead, he keeps quiet. Am I missing something?
Yeah and that’s when I notice that the taxi isn’t moving anymore.
“We’re here, your house.” he says with the most obvious tone of voice ever
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’m…I’m tired” I giggle when I didn’t want to, and he just smiles patting my back as I get out of the taxi with my bags. I stare at the building, and then I smile.
Yeah, I’m home.
I smile, forgetting all of the ghosts of my past that had been following me in the last tour. I’m home, which means they’re gone.
I laugh. They’re gone.
And then I see her. She’s smiling and looking at me through the window of her room. My little blackbird.
I get the keys out of my pocket and open the main door, I’m not even inside the house when a ten year old girl runs and hugs me. I carry her, leaving all of my bags in the floor. I kiss her forehead and she smiles at me. And then I look into her eyes, those deep and big blue eyes. Every time I see those eyes I feel like if she could read me perfectly. When I look in her eyes, I just see the sky; blue, endless, and beautiful.
I leave her on the floor and see Sarah watching us from the living room. She smiles and I go on, take a few steps more and kiss her deeply.
“You’re home…Finally, you are home” she says and I just smile and nod. She hugs me and pecks my lips multiple times.
“Dad” I hear my daughters voice and I turn around to see her. She’s mad.
“What’s wrong sweetie?” Sarah asks before I can say something, but Abbey doesn’t reply. Instead she goes upstairs.
“What’s up with her?” I ask Sarah and she just shrugs.
“We’ll talk to her later.” she says smiling and I agree. Sarah leads me to the main room of the house, upstairs as well.
One of the reasons of why I married Sarah is because she helps me to forget. She makes me forget. And forgetting is one way of avoiding pain.
**
“I’m really, really sorry” I say and then I hear him puking again “No more drinking dares, I promise”
Ryan stares at the toilet and flushes it for the fourth time, he’s pale and breathing fast. He looks tired too. Well, we’ve been half of the night in a party and the other half in his bathroom. He turns around and sits next to the toilet, hugging his legs and closing his eyes.
“Its okay” he says and I bite my lower lip, wondering what to do.
“Are you okay?” I ask and he nods, “I’m so-” I begin but he doesn’t let me finish.
“Don’t say you’re sorry again. I know. I get it, okay?” he snaps and I close my mouth and sit in front of him.
“You need to sleep” I tell him
“I know” he whispers and gets up, he brushes his teeth and looks at his reflection of the mirror “I…I have an exam tomorrow…a math one.”
“I know, and you’ll do great at it, I’m sure” I smile and he does too “Can I stay over? My mom didn’t want me to drive if it was too late” but we both know I don’t need to ask because he will always say yes. The same when he’s staying at my house. We will always say yes.
“Sure” he yawns and I stand up “let’s go to bed now then”
He has his own bathroom in his room -one of the things I’ve always wanted- so we just take a few steps and we’re already on his bed. He takes off his clothes and throws them on the floor, then pulls on some pajamas and I take my shoes off.
He turns off his lamp and the room is blanketed in darkness. We can feel each other breathe, and I can feel his heart.
“Bren…” he whispers
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that.
“What? Why? What are you afraid of?”
He doesn’t reply instantly, But after a while, he says “Everything” I get closer to him, he turns over onto his side and we’re facing each other. I see tears running down his face and I feel guilty, sad and scared, too.
I hug him, and I pet his hair softly, knowing that will make him sleep. I wait for him to feel safe in his dreams and in my arms. When he’s finally asleep, I kiss his forehead and wonder why am I such a prick to him sometimes, because he’s adorable. He’s my best friend and he’s scared. Of everything.
What if he’s scared of me too?
**
I realize I’m staring awkwardly at the door of my daughter’s room because of the beautiful sound of her piano. I smile. She’s so freaking talented. I knock on the door and the piano stops.
“You can come in” she says and I open the door carefully
“I didn’t interrupt you, did I?”
“No” she says smiling “its okay, I’ll keep playing” and then she does that. She starts playing Vals Romantique and I sit on the edge of the bed, looking at the things around me. When she was born, we painted her room pink and purple. Now it’s violet and velvet red and white. With lights around the bed, a piano next to the window, and musical notes adorning the walls. There’s TV that she barely watches; two libraries full of books and a 4-doored closet.
I stare at the cup in my hands -Totally forgot about it.
“I made you hot chocolate” I say and she smiles and nods. One of Abbey’s rules is that once she has started playing a song in her piano, you cannot make her stop. You cannot interrupt her. She takes things way too seriously sometimes, but she’s smart and mature. Sometimes I think she’s not enjoying her childhood as she should, but it’s her life and she makes her own decisions.
She finishes the song and takes the cup off my hands, sitting next to me “Thank you” I kiss her cheek and I stand up, but then I remember why I came here in the first place and I sit again.
“Abbey…” I begin and she’s staring at her goldfishes’ tank.
“What?” she turns around her head and looks at me
“Why were you mad? Why have you been mad? Your mother told me you’ve been really angry lately, and well, she worries and I do too”
She laughs, but with sarcasm “Yeah. Of course you worry” she says “It’s nothing, okay? Really.”
And that’s how my daughter cuts off the conversation.
I sigh and sit on the bench by the piano, stare at the keys and then ask “May I?” she nods and I start playing ‘La Fille Aux Cheveux De Lin’, one of her favourites.
She smiles and claps when I finish and I take a bow, giggling. “I should go, we both need to rest. You have school tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah…I want it to end already” she sighs
“It’s almost summer, darling. It’ll end soon. Want me to drive you?” She hesitates before answering but then she says “Sure” and I kiss her forehead before leaving the room.
**
I stare in astonishment at the bag. I mean I just can’t believe it. My heart is beating as fast as I think it can, and my hands are shaking. I feel dizzy and I fall to my knees while my mind tries to process the information. I take the can, and I analyze it. Ten fucking years without holding this fucking can in my fucking hands. Ten fucking years without seeing it and feeling the adrenaline I feel now. I leave the can on the floor and then I see a piece of white paper under one of my shirts. A familiar handwriting and a particular name make my heart beat even faster.
“Game starts again and this time it won’t be that easy. Your turn. But you need to find me first, Urie. Dare? Or are you too overwhelmed with your beautiful and perfect American life that you have forgotten about me? I’m not dead, bitch.”- Ryan
Apparently, the ghosts of my past have already gotten out of the closet.
Next Chapter
Author:
x_trademistakes (me) & cricketsinyourclothing (Sarah)
Pairings: Ryan/Brendon [Other Minor Pairings]
POV: 1st, Brendon's, Ryan's
Beta:
asbesdehyde
Summary: As adults, best friends Brendon and Ryan continue the odd game they started as children -- a fearless competition to outdo one another with daring and outrageous stunts. While they often act out to relieve one another's pain, their game might be a way to avoid the fact that they are truly meant for one another.
Disclaimer: All of this is fictional, I don’t own songs or anything unless I mention it, this is a crossover with the movie Love Me If You Dare. I don’t own anything of it either.
Author's Note: The three next chapters are better, I promise ^^ this first part is kinda boring, I know, but believe me, part two is much better :D BTW: Brendon's POV.
Previous Chapter
Chapter 3
"Blackbirds and Ghosts"
You wake up in the John F. Kennedy airport.
Hello New York, I’ve missed you.
I get up from my seat on the plane and pat Spencer on the shoulder, take my backpack and go a few steps up the narrow aisle of the plane.
"That's been one of the fastest flights of my life" Spencer laughs as he rubs his eyes, he is rested, relaxed and happy.
I probably look like I haven’t slept in 3 days, exhausted and emaciated.
Great.
Dallon and Ian had stayed in L.A., they both live there anyway.
Spencer and I look for our bags and after a while, we get into a taxi. “You okay?” He asks me when the silence becomes too awkward. Ah, If only he knew. For a couple of seconds, I considerate the possibility of telling him everything. Just for a couple of seconds, I feel the need of telling him about the dares, the game, and the past.
But past, is that, just past. Those dares, that game, and that…that boy, are the ghosts inside my closet. Those ghosts I’ve decided not to let go.
“Yeah” I reply and he just nods. He knows something is wrong. And…I don’t think I can lie to him for too long. They’ve all noticed something is wrong. Because you know, before this tour, I was the life of the party. I was the shoulder to cry on, the funny one, the friendly, sociable Brendon they’ve known for at least eight or nine years.
“Bren…” he says and I look at him waiting for the rest of the sentence to come out of his mouth. Instead, he keeps quiet. Am I missing something?
Yeah and that’s when I notice that the taxi isn’t moving anymore.
“We’re here, your house.” he says with the most obvious tone of voice ever
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’m…I’m tired” I giggle when I didn’t want to, and he just smiles patting my back as I get out of the taxi with my bags. I stare at the building, and then I smile.
Yeah, I’m home.
I smile, forgetting all of the ghosts of my past that had been following me in the last tour. I’m home, which means they’re gone.
I laugh. They’re gone.
And then I see her. She’s smiling and looking at me through the window of her room. My little blackbird.
I get the keys out of my pocket and open the main door, I’m not even inside the house when a ten year old girl runs and hugs me. I carry her, leaving all of my bags in the floor. I kiss her forehead and she smiles at me. And then I look into her eyes, those deep and big blue eyes. Every time I see those eyes I feel like if she could read me perfectly. When I look in her eyes, I just see the sky; blue, endless, and beautiful.
I leave her on the floor and see Sarah watching us from the living room. She smiles and I go on, take a few steps more and kiss her deeply.
“You’re home…Finally, you are home” she says and I just smile and nod. She hugs me and pecks my lips multiple times.
“Dad” I hear my daughters voice and I turn around to see her. She’s mad.
“What’s wrong sweetie?” Sarah asks before I can say something, but Abbey doesn’t reply. Instead she goes upstairs.
“What’s up with her?” I ask Sarah and she just shrugs.
“We’ll talk to her later.” she says smiling and I agree. Sarah leads me to the main room of the house, upstairs as well.
One of the reasons of why I married Sarah is because she helps me to forget. She makes me forget. And forgetting is one way of avoiding pain.
**
“I’m really, really sorry” I say and then I hear him puking again “No more drinking dares, I promise”
Ryan stares at the toilet and flushes it for the fourth time, he’s pale and breathing fast. He looks tired too. Well, we’ve been half of the night in a party and the other half in his bathroom. He turns around and sits next to the toilet, hugging his legs and closing his eyes.
“Its okay” he says and I bite my lower lip, wondering what to do.
“Are you okay?” I ask and he nods, “I’m so-” I begin but he doesn’t let me finish.
“Don’t say you’re sorry again. I know. I get it, okay?” he snaps and I close my mouth and sit in front of him.
“You need to sleep” I tell him
“I know” he whispers and gets up, he brushes his teeth and looks at his reflection of the mirror “I…I have an exam tomorrow…a math one.”
“I know, and you’ll do great at it, I’m sure” I smile and he does too “Can I stay over? My mom didn’t want me to drive if it was too late” but we both know I don’t need to ask because he will always say yes. The same when he’s staying at my house. We will always say yes.
“Sure” he yawns and I stand up “let’s go to bed now then”
He has his own bathroom in his room -one of the things I’ve always wanted- so we just take a few steps and we’re already on his bed. He takes off his clothes and throws them on the floor, then pulls on some pajamas and I take my shoes off.
He turns off his lamp and the room is blanketed in darkness. We can feel each other breathe, and I can feel his heart.
“Bren…” he whispers
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that.
“What? Why? What are you afraid of?”
He doesn’t reply instantly, But after a while, he says “Everything” I get closer to him, he turns over onto his side and we’re facing each other. I see tears running down his face and I feel guilty, sad and scared, too.
I hug him, and I pet his hair softly, knowing that will make him sleep. I wait for him to feel safe in his dreams and in my arms. When he’s finally asleep, I kiss his forehead and wonder why am I such a prick to him sometimes, because he’s adorable. He’s my best friend and he’s scared. Of everything.
What if he’s scared of me too?
**
I realize I’m staring awkwardly at the door of my daughter’s room because of the beautiful sound of her piano. I smile. She’s so freaking talented. I knock on the door and the piano stops.
“You can come in” she says and I open the door carefully
“I didn’t interrupt you, did I?”
“No” she says smiling “its okay, I’ll keep playing” and then she does that. She starts playing Vals Romantique and I sit on the edge of the bed, looking at the things around me. When she was born, we painted her room pink and purple. Now it’s violet and velvet red and white. With lights around the bed, a piano next to the window, and musical notes adorning the walls. There’s TV that she barely watches; two libraries full of books and a 4-doored closet.
I stare at the cup in my hands -Totally forgot about it.
“I made you hot chocolate” I say and she smiles and nods. One of Abbey’s rules is that once she has started playing a song in her piano, you cannot make her stop. You cannot interrupt her. She takes things way too seriously sometimes, but she’s smart and mature. Sometimes I think she’s not enjoying her childhood as she should, but it’s her life and she makes her own decisions.
She finishes the song and takes the cup off my hands, sitting next to me “Thank you” I kiss her cheek and I stand up, but then I remember why I came here in the first place and I sit again.
“Abbey…” I begin and she’s staring at her goldfishes’ tank.
“What?” she turns around her head and looks at me
“Why were you mad? Why have you been mad? Your mother told me you’ve been really angry lately, and well, she worries and I do too”
She laughs, but with sarcasm “Yeah. Of course you worry” she says “It’s nothing, okay? Really.”
And that’s how my daughter cuts off the conversation.
I sigh and sit on the bench by the piano, stare at the keys and then ask “May I?” she nods and I start playing ‘La Fille Aux Cheveux De Lin’, one of her favourites.
She smiles and claps when I finish and I take a bow, giggling. “I should go, we both need to rest. You have school tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah…I want it to end already” she sighs
“It’s almost summer, darling. It’ll end soon. Want me to drive you?” She hesitates before answering but then she says “Sure” and I kiss her forehead before leaving the room.
**
I stare in astonishment at the bag. I mean I just can’t believe it. My heart is beating as fast as I think it can, and my hands are shaking. I feel dizzy and I fall to my knees while my mind tries to process the information. I take the can, and I analyze it. Ten fucking years without holding this fucking can in my fucking hands. Ten fucking years without seeing it and feeling the adrenaline I feel now. I leave the can on the floor and then I see a piece of white paper under one of my shirts. A familiar handwriting and a particular name make my heart beat even faster.
“Game starts again and this time it won’t be that easy. Your turn. But you need to find me first, Urie. Dare? Or are you too overwhelmed with your beautiful and perfect American life that you have forgotten about me? I’m not dead, bitch.”- Ryan
Apparently, the ghosts of my past have already gotten out of the closet.
Next Chapter