Freaks [6/20]
Title: Freaks [6/20]
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
Chapter 6
When I get back to my room, I shut the door behind me and lean on it, and a content sigh escapes my lips. They form an unmistakable grin, and a happy chuckle tumbles from them.
So this is what it’s like.
I’m still shocked that we had been talking for hours, the time flying by so quickly that I’d been surprised when one of the nurses came by to remind me that it was time for my antibiotic dose.
I carefully make my way onto the hospital bed and hook myself to the antibiotic drip already there for me. I press a button for it to start, and I grab Swann’s Way off the bedside table, fully intending to read until lunch.
However, I can’t concentrate on Marcel Proust’s words because I keep coming back to earlier with Brendon.
We’d touched on the basics. I told him about my parents staying back at home while I moved out here for college. It turns out we go to the same school, but it’s big enough where we wouldn’t expect to know each other. I mean, he definitely wouldn’t know me since I keep to myself, but he doesn’t know that. I’ve been trying not to think of Brendon possibly passing me in a hallway, staring at me in horror or, worse, looking right through me, like everyone else I encounter. But I’m sure I haven’t seen him since I for sure would have remembered seeing him. He’s too beautiful to forget.
I told Brendon about Spencer being my best friend and Jon being a new friend who just happens to have fallen head over heels for my best friend. Brendon had chuckled as I recounted what one had said about the other, and then he asked me if I was in a relationship, to which I stuttered a “no” in response. I had felt heat rise to my cheeks at that question. It should’ve been a no-brainer, had he known what I looked like, but of course that wasn’t the case.
Then Brendon told me about himself. He was studying music in school, though he seemed to gloss over that, only saying something about a focus on piano. In fact, he was really quiet about it and hardly answered the questions I asked until I realized why he wouldn’t want to answer them. I mean, the guy doesn’t know if he’s going to be living life in the dark. Who knows what kind of future he’s going to have in music after this accident?
Brendon went on to tell me about his family. They are from this town, living in what I know is a rich part of the city. His dad is some sort of doctor, his mom a housewife who had been born into money herself.
And then he mentioned his friends, and I wasn’t surprised when I found out that Brendon had a lot of them. I mean, how could he not, with his good looks and charming personality? Brendon is involved in tons of clubs and organizations, and seems to belong with every group, every type of person. He’s even a general representative in student council. In short, he’s popular.
But now that I think about it, I haven’t seen any visitors. Not one. I’m sure with so many friends his room would be crawling with people. And what about his family? They live locally so where are they? I may only have one friend outside this hospital, but at least he stops by.
With that, I hear knuckles rap on the door of my room. I lift my head and said friend is standing in the doorway, and I’m almost convinced that we do have some sort of psychic connection. “Spencer, hey,” I say quietly with a half-smile.
Frankly, Spencer looks like shit, but when he nods hello and makes his way to the chair by my bed, he tries hard to give me a genuine smile back. I can tell when it’s real and when it’s not with him, though, and this time, it’s forced. “How’re you, Ry?”
“The same as I was yesterday. Fine,” I rush out. “Now, what’s wrong with you?”
Spencer shakes his head, but it’s very obvious that something is bothering him. “Spencer, cut the crap. Tell me what’s up.”
He sighs and rubs his eyes. “I’m just… I’m really worried about Jon.”
I reach over and manage to get a hand on his shoulder, and Spencer looks up at me. “Come on,” I say with a gesturing nod. “There’s room up here for both of us.”
There’s one long look from Spencer, and then he smoothly gets up from the chair as I scooch over to give him room. Spencer eases himself next to me on the bed, and it’s a tight fit. We’ve done this before, but for the first time in as long as I can remember, the roles are reversed. This time, it’s Spencer’s head resting on my shoulder. This time, I’m the one hugging him close, and I’m just praying that I’m doing a good job at the friend thing. It’s the least I can do.
Spencer buries his face in my shoulder, his arm wrapping around my waist as my arm goes under his neck and around him. I whisper into his hair, “He’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” he mumbles, and I feel his mouth moving against my collarbone. “I was just beginning to get to know him.”
I give him a squeeze. “Spence, it’s routine surgery. They’re not giving him a new heart or anything like that, they’re just-”
“Operating on his back? Sounds like a big deal to me.”
I sigh because he’s got a good point. For a minute, we just lie together, and then I jostle his shoulder. “But it’s Jon,” I tell him. “He’s a fighter, you know he’ll come out fine.” And I don’t doubt my words. The minute he rolled into my room, I could tell that Jon is strong.
He exhales against my chest and leans further into me. The only thing I can do is hug him back and let him go through what he’s going through. “I don’t like that you’re so freaked out about this. Stressing yourself out like this is not going to do anyone any good. You need to relax,” I whisper to him.
Spencer sniffs, and when I look down, I see that his eyes are red and watery. “I always get like this.”
I frown and wrinkle my brow at him. “What do you mean?” I ask.
He sighs and tries to hug me tighter. “Do you think that every time you were in the hospital, I wasn’t worrying myself sick over you?”
I shut my eyes, and all I can see is a calm and composed Spencer. Even back in middle school, he’d seemed to handle everything maturely. I open my eyes, and Spencer too is frowning. “You were?”
He scoffs. “Of course. I was going crazy. You know how many times I came close to losing my best friend?”
My fingers card through his light brown hair as I rest my cheek against the top of his head. “Well, you didn’t lose me, Spence. And you’re not going to lose Jon either.”
Spencer takes a deep breath, and I rub his back in what I hope is a comforting way.
“You’re better at this than you think, Ry,” he says and gives me a small smile. Genuine this time.
I chuckle. “Thanks.”
He brings his hand up to his face. “I feel like such a douche,” Spencer says.
I snort. “Why?”
“You’re in the hospital, Ry. And I’m freaking out about someone else. I’m a horrible friend. You’re comforting me, for God’s sake.”
I sigh. “Spencer, don’t be stupid. I don’t think you could ever be a bad friend to me. Sometimes, we go through shit, and we need our friends. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let you need me?”
He smiles a bit wider and settles a bit more in my embrace.
-----------------------------
The next morning after breakfast, I hobble over to the nurses’ station and luckily find Nurse Agnes filling out some paperwork.
“Hi Ryan,” she says with a kind smile. “What can I do for you?”
I bite my lip. “Um, I was wondering, uh, if Jon came out of the surgery okay.”
She nods, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Jon’s in the ICU recovering, but it seems like everything went off without a hitch.”
“Thank you,” I say and offer her a smile of my own.
“Oh, and you didn’t hear this from me, right?”
“Right,” I say as I fumble with my crutches a bit. She winks at me and then turns away to go off and do her rounds.
There’s a stack of magazines on the counter, and since I’m bored, I thumb through them until I stop at The New Yorker. I open the magazine to flip through the short stories, but something catches my attention.
“Did you get a hold of the Urie boy’s ‘in case of emergency’?” I stop mid-page-turn as I overhear the head nurse talking to one of the junior nurses.
“No, ma’am,” I hear her timid voice say.
“What seems to be the problem?” Stalin asks sharply.
“It seems like the boy’s parents are out of the country. At least that’s what I could gather from their housekeeper. She answered the phone and doesn’t speak much English.”
I watch them out of the corner of my eye, and I can see Stalin’s face visibly soften. “That poor kid hasn’t gotten any visitors since he’s been admitted. His family doesn’t even know he’s here,” she says quietly. The woman might be scary, but I’ve got to hand it to her for really caring about the patients.
I close the magazine and straighten out the stack before adjusting my crutches and moving towards my room. Once I get to Brendon’s door, I stop in front of it. Behind those doors is a guy who’s all alone. His parents don’t know he’s here, and his friends don’t seem to care. This is a dangerous game I’m playing, but a feeling in my heart is telling me that I can’t leave him alone like this. I don’t want to.
I knock softly on his door and hear Brendon’s voice say, “Come in.”
I push the door open and totter into the room. “Ryan,” he says with a grin.
I stop. “How’d you know?”
Brendon bites his lip, still grinning. “I can hear your crutches against the floor. The rubber tips squeak.”
I laugh. “I guess I can’t sneak up on anyone with these things, huh?”
“Even a blind guy,” he says, and the grin fades. Ugh, I’m so stupid.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“I know,” Brendon interrupts.
An awkward silence passes, and then Brendon says, “Sit down, Ryan. Your leg will be killing you if you don’t.”
“Okay,” I say softly, and I make it the rest of the way to the chair by his bed. Almost immediately after I’ve settled into the seat, Brendon offers his hand to me, and I take it without hesitation, my stomach doing a small flip-flop as he squeezes my hand a little.
“So how’s your day been?”
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
Chapter 6
When I get back to my room, I shut the door behind me and lean on it, and a content sigh escapes my lips. They form an unmistakable grin, and a happy chuckle tumbles from them.
So this is what it’s like.
I’m still shocked that we had been talking for hours, the time flying by so quickly that I’d been surprised when one of the nurses came by to remind me that it was time for my antibiotic dose.
I carefully make my way onto the hospital bed and hook myself to the antibiotic drip already there for me. I press a button for it to start, and I grab Swann’s Way off the bedside table, fully intending to read until lunch.
However, I can’t concentrate on Marcel Proust’s words because I keep coming back to earlier with Brendon.
We’d touched on the basics. I told him about my parents staying back at home while I moved out here for college. It turns out we go to the same school, but it’s big enough where we wouldn’t expect to know each other. I mean, he definitely wouldn’t know me since I keep to myself, but he doesn’t know that. I’ve been trying not to think of Brendon possibly passing me in a hallway, staring at me in horror or, worse, looking right through me, like everyone else I encounter. But I’m sure I haven’t seen him since I for sure would have remembered seeing him. He’s too beautiful to forget.
I told Brendon about Spencer being my best friend and Jon being a new friend who just happens to have fallen head over heels for my best friend. Brendon had chuckled as I recounted what one had said about the other, and then he asked me if I was in a relationship, to which I stuttered a “no” in response. I had felt heat rise to my cheeks at that question. It should’ve been a no-brainer, had he known what I looked like, but of course that wasn’t the case.
Then Brendon told me about himself. He was studying music in school, though he seemed to gloss over that, only saying something about a focus on piano. In fact, he was really quiet about it and hardly answered the questions I asked until I realized why he wouldn’t want to answer them. I mean, the guy doesn’t know if he’s going to be living life in the dark. Who knows what kind of future he’s going to have in music after this accident?
Brendon went on to tell me about his family. They are from this town, living in what I know is a rich part of the city. His dad is some sort of doctor, his mom a housewife who had been born into money herself.
And then he mentioned his friends, and I wasn’t surprised when I found out that Brendon had a lot of them. I mean, how could he not, with his good looks and charming personality? Brendon is involved in tons of clubs and organizations, and seems to belong with every group, every type of person. He’s even a general representative in student council. In short, he’s popular.
But now that I think about it, I haven’t seen any visitors. Not one. I’m sure with so many friends his room would be crawling with people. And what about his family? They live locally so where are they? I may only have one friend outside this hospital, but at least he stops by.
With that, I hear knuckles rap on the door of my room. I lift my head and said friend is standing in the doorway, and I’m almost convinced that we do have some sort of psychic connection. “Spencer, hey,” I say quietly with a half-smile.
Frankly, Spencer looks like shit, but when he nods hello and makes his way to the chair by my bed, he tries hard to give me a genuine smile back. I can tell when it’s real and when it’s not with him, though, and this time, it’s forced. “How’re you, Ry?”
“The same as I was yesterday. Fine,” I rush out. “Now, what’s wrong with you?”
Spencer shakes his head, but it’s very obvious that something is bothering him. “Spencer, cut the crap. Tell me what’s up.”
He sighs and rubs his eyes. “I’m just… I’m really worried about Jon.”
I reach over and manage to get a hand on his shoulder, and Spencer looks up at me. “Come on,” I say with a gesturing nod. “There’s room up here for both of us.”
There’s one long look from Spencer, and then he smoothly gets up from the chair as I scooch over to give him room. Spencer eases himself next to me on the bed, and it’s a tight fit. We’ve done this before, but for the first time in as long as I can remember, the roles are reversed. This time, it’s Spencer’s head resting on my shoulder. This time, I’m the one hugging him close, and I’m just praying that I’m doing a good job at the friend thing. It’s the least I can do.
Spencer buries his face in my shoulder, his arm wrapping around my waist as my arm goes under his neck and around him. I whisper into his hair, “He’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” he mumbles, and I feel his mouth moving against my collarbone. “I was just beginning to get to know him.”
I give him a squeeze. “Spence, it’s routine surgery. They’re not giving him a new heart or anything like that, they’re just-”
“Operating on his back? Sounds like a big deal to me.”
I sigh because he’s got a good point. For a minute, we just lie together, and then I jostle his shoulder. “But it’s Jon,” I tell him. “He’s a fighter, you know he’ll come out fine.” And I don’t doubt my words. The minute he rolled into my room, I could tell that Jon is strong.
He exhales against my chest and leans further into me. The only thing I can do is hug him back and let him go through what he’s going through. “I don’t like that you’re so freaked out about this. Stressing yourself out like this is not going to do anyone any good. You need to relax,” I whisper to him.
Spencer sniffs, and when I look down, I see that his eyes are red and watery. “I always get like this.”
I frown and wrinkle my brow at him. “What do you mean?” I ask.
He sighs and tries to hug me tighter. “Do you think that every time you were in the hospital, I wasn’t worrying myself sick over you?”
I shut my eyes, and all I can see is a calm and composed Spencer. Even back in middle school, he’d seemed to handle everything maturely. I open my eyes, and Spencer too is frowning. “You were?”
He scoffs. “Of course. I was going crazy. You know how many times I came close to losing my best friend?”
My fingers card through his light brown hair as I rest my cheek against the top of his head. “Well, you didn’t lose me, Spence. And you’re not going to lose Jon either.”
Spencer takes a deep breath, and I rub his back in what I hope is a comforting way.
“You’re better at this than you think, Ry,” he says and gives me a small smile. Genuine this time.
I chuckle. “Thanks.”
He brings his hand up to his face. “I feel like such a douche,” Spencer says.
I snort. “Why?”
“You’re in the hospital, Ry. And I’m freaking out about someone else. I’m a horrible friend. You’re comforting me, for God’s sake.”
I sigh. “Spencer, don’t be stupid. I don’t think you could ever be a bad friend to me. Sometimes, we go through shit, and we need our friends. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let you need me?”
He smiles a bit wider and settles a bit more in my embrace.
-----------------------------
The next morning after breakfast, I hobble over to the nurses’ station and luckily find Nurse Agnes filling out some paperwork.
“Hi Ryan,” she says with a kind smile. “What can I do for you?”
I bite my lip. “Um, I was wondering, uh, if Jon came out of the surgery okay.”
She nods, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Jon’s in the ICU recovering, but it seems like everything went off without a hitch.”
“Thank you,” I say and offer her a smile of my own.
“Oh, and you didn’t hear this from me, right?”
“Right,” I say as I fumble with my crutches a bit. She winks at me and then turns away to go off and do her rounds.
There’s a stack of magazines on the counter, and since I’m bored, I thumb through them until I stop at The New Yorker. I open the magazine to flip through the short stories, but something catches my attention.
“Did you get a hold of the Urie boy’s ‘in case of emergency’?” I stop mid-page-turn as I overhear the head nurse talking to one of the junior nurses.
“No, ma’am,” I hear her timid voice say.
“What seems to be the problem?” Stalin asks sharply.
“It seems like the boy’s parents are out of the country. At least that’s what I could gather from their housekeeper. She answered the phone and doesn’t speak much English.”
I watch them out of the corner of my eye, and I can see Stalin’s face visibly soften. “That poor kid hasn’t gotten any visitors since he’s been admitted. His family doesn’t even know he’s here,” she says quietly. The woman might be scary, but I’ve got to hand it to her for really caring about the patients.
I close the magazine and straighten out the stack before adjusting my crutches and moving towards my room. Once I get to Brendon’s door, I stop in front of it. Behind those doors is a guy who’s all alone. His parents don’t know he’s here, and his friends don’t seem to care. This is a dangerous game I’m playing, but a feeling in my heart is telling me that I can’t leave him alone like this. I don’t want to.
I knock softly on his door and hear Brendon’s voice say, “Come in.”
I push the door open and totter into the room. “Ryan,” he says with a grin.
I stop. “How’d you know?”
Brendon bites his lip, still grinning. “I can hear your crutches against the floor. The rubber tips squeak.”
I laugh. “I guess I can’t sneak up on anyone with these things, huh?”
“Even a blind guy,” he says, and the grin fades. Ugh, I’m so stupid.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“I know,” Brendon interrupts.
An awkward silence passes, and then Brendon says, “Sit down, Ryan. Your leg will be killing you if you don’t.”
“Okay,” I say softly, and I make it the rest of the way to the chair by his bed. Almost immediately after I’ve settled into the seat, Brendon offers his hand to me, and I take it without hesitation, my stomach doing a small flip-flop as he squeezes my hand a little.
“So how’s your day been?”