Freaks [11/20]
Title: Freaks [11/20]
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 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Chapter 11
The next morning, I wake up to the sound of a nurse placing my breakfast on the rolly table by my bed.
“Good morning,” the nurse says when she sees that I’m awake. She quietly moves to take my vitals, and when she pulls away, I distinctly see her wink as she turns to fill out my chart. I frown, confused about what that was about, but I turn to my breakfast because I’m starving. Anyway, she leaves my room wordlessly, and I forget all about it.
When I’m done eating, I promptly get up to see if Jon is back, hoping to get to see him for a bit before I have to come back for my antibiotic drip. I move as quickly as I can down to his room, and I notice that his door is open. Sure enough, when I peek in, I can see Jon sitting up in bed, eating his own breakfast. I knock on the doorjamb since I’m used to announcing my arrivals that way for Brendon, and when Jon sees me, he smiles widely. “Ryan!”
I approach him on my crutches, giving him a happy smile myself. “Hey, Jon. Nice to see that you’re doing okay.”
He chuckles. “Well, they’ve got me on painkillers still.” He opens his arms and gives me a look. “Hey, where’s my hug?”
I roll my eyes, but truthfully, I’ve missed Jon’s hugs. I lean forward, and his arms wrap around me with his hand settling in my hair and ruffling it. When he lets go, I grasp the arm of the chair behind me after tucking my crutches under it and sit comfortably. “What’ve you been up to?”
I look down at my hands in my lap. “Nothing, really.”
Silence surrounds us, and it’s uncomfortable and palpable. I chance a look up, and Jon’s face is stern. “You’ve been spending time with that Brendon guy, haven’t you?” He seems to have taken my silence as a yes. “Have you been honest with him?”
I sigh, but under Jon’s gaze, I have to tell him the truth. “No,” I whisper.
He sighs too, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “Ryan… Why?”
“I like him,” I blurt out. “And… And I want him to like me back.”
“How do you know he won’t like you back if you told him about yourself?”
I shake my head. “He won’t. I just… know.” I look back down, twiddling my thumbs nervously. When I look back up, Jon’s face has softened. “He’s wonderful, you know. Too good for me.”
Jon reaches out and squeezes my shoulder in that comforting, Jon way that I’ve come to associate with him. “Oh, Ryan,” he says quietly, “I wish you could see yourself the way me and Spencer see you.”
I bite my lip and contemplate his words. “And how do you guys see me?” I ask.
“Honestly?” Jon says, and I nod. “You’re a great person, Ryan. You’re a good friend and a great listener. You’re a lot of fun and really witty when you’ve forgotten to be self-conscious.”
I have a hard time taking all those compliments, but I nod just the same. Jon continues, “I know you’ve been treated badly in the past, enough so that you’ve come to expect it. But I hate seeing that you’ve got it in your head that you’re worthless. You’re not, Ry.”
I can feel emotion stirring behind my eyes, and I blink to stop it from manifesting. “If he’s worth it,” he says, “he won’t care about your face. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Jon sounds desperate to make me understand, but I’ve still got that nagging feeling in the back of my head. What about all those times people have stared, those times I’ve been met with looks of disgust, those times people have just ignored me all together? Everyday, I face unsympathetic people who would never give a damn about me in a million years. It’s easy to say that Brendon won’t be like the others, but I don’t know that.
Silence engulfs us, and I force myself to think of happier things. There’s a flash of Brendon’s lips close up, and the pain starts to dull.
“He kissed me, you know,” I mutter, the corner of my lip tugging up into a half smile. “I like the way it feels.”
“The kissing?” Jon asks, obviously unsure of where I’m going with my statement.
I shake my head. “Everything. Just… when I’m around him.”
Soon, I’m telling Jon everything. It’s so easy to open up to him, and I’m unsurprised when Jon is all caught up on what Brendon and I have talked about. I tell Jon about Brendon’s lack of visitors and his parents’ absence. I tell him about the handholding and the angel remark. I tell him about the touching and the close calls and about reading to Brendon.
“Can I meet him?” Jon asks after I’m done, and I give him an incredulous look. “I won’t talk about anything you don’t want me to,” he adds. “It’s not my place to bring it up.”
“I… I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I tell him. It gives me an apprehensive feeling. Not only do I think my secret is on the line, I also have a small fear that Brendon will like Jon more than me. I mean, of course Brendon would delude himself into liking me. I’m the only company he gets. But when he meets Jon, Jon will be his usual friendly self, and I can see myself being shunted out of the picture. Everyone likes Jon, and I know Brendon wouldn’t be an exception.
“Why not? You said that Brendon doesn’t get any visitors. He’s been lonely, I’m sure another friend couldn’t hurt.”
And then I think about Brendon all by himself in his room, and I want to beat myself up for wanting to keep him to myself at his expense. Jon’s right, why should I deny Brendon a friend? When the fuck did I become so selfish?
“Yeah, okay,” I say. “When can you get out of bed?” I gesture to the wheelchair a few feet away.
“Later today,” Jon tells me. “They’re switching my meds, but someone’s going to have to push me since they don’t want me to tear my stitches or mess up my back.”
I wince at the thought. “Alright. We’ll see Brendon later then. Besides, Spencer will be here in a couple of hours. He’ll probably be here for most of the afternoon.”
Jon immediately perks up. “Spencer’s coming?”
“Well, duh,” I say, laughing amusedly. “Between you and me, he’s been worried about you so he probably wants to make sure you came out of surgery all in one piece.” I nudge Jon. “Honestly, I was worried too. And I missed you, man.”
“Hey,” he says with a smile, gesturing to himself. “I’ve never been better.”
I bite my lip, remembering something I should probably mention. “Um, Jon, Spencer doesn’t know about Brendon. At all. So please don’t say anything about him. I don’t want him to know.”
The smile has faded from Jon’s face to be replaced by a pained look. “I don’t want to lie to him, Ry,” he says, and I know there’s an unspoken remark about my lack of honesty with Brendon in there.
“Not lie, just… don’t say anything about him.”
“Ryan…” Jon says warningly, and I know that he too finds something familiar in that.
“Please?” I whisper.
I must look fucking pitiful at that point because Jon just looks down and mutters, “Okay.”
------------------
The antibiotic drip is just about finished, and I’m about to dig into whatever it is the hospital saw fit to serve me when my door bursts open, and Spencer strides in with a paper bag in his hands. He’s a lot more hassled-looking than I expected him to be.
“What’s up, Spence?” I ask, setting my fork down.
He tosses the paper bag at me while he goes to bring a chair closer for him to sit in. “I was just at Jon’s room, and when I peeked in, there were a bunch of doctors there.”
I open the bag Spencer had given me and pull out a warm package wrapped in aluminum foil. Further investigation leads me to find that he’d brought a meatball sandwich, my favorite. “Aw, thanks!” I exclaim, and Spencer just waves his hand. “Don’t worry so much, Spence,” I mumble through a full mouth. “I saw him this morning. He’s doing fine, trust me. We’ll go down there in a bit, and then you can have some time alone with him while I go to physical therapy.”
To my relief, he looks a lot less stressed out and a lot more hopeful. I let Spencer tell me about the new guy he works with who is “a complete moron” and “totally incompetent”, while I finish my sandwich. When I’m done, Spencer helps me to my feet and hands me my crutches.
As we walk down the hall, I can sense Spencer’s nerves, and I almost want to laugh. I’ve honestly never seen Spencer act this way before, and it just reminds me how much he likes Jon. It’s really very sweet, and I’m happy for them.
I peek into Jon’s room and knock, and Jon is lying in his bed alone in his room. Spencer follows me in, and at the sight of him, Jon grins and whispers, “Spencer,” who then rushes to his side. Out of the corner of my eye, I see them kiss briefly, and there are hushed words between the two. Spencer keeps asking Jon if he’s okay, and Jon keeps laughing and assuring him that he is.
And I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach, the one that makes me want all that. Whatever it is that Brendon and I have, it’s not as good as what Spencer and Jon have. It’s all my fault, really, because I’m the one who’s lying, going so far as to asking Jon to lie and keep quiet too. But then what other option did I have?
I can see that Spencer and Jon are lost in their own little world, so I make my way over to the door, fully intending to go back to my room and read. “Hey, hey, hey!” I hear Jon say just as my hand touches the doorknob.
I turn around to find the two of them staring disbelievingly at me. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Spencer asks. “Physical therapy isn’t for another hour.”
I shrug. “I just wanted to give you guys time by yourselves.”
“Shut up,” Jon says, waving me back to them. “The three of us are hanging out and that’s final.”
Author: spazzyskittles/Tiffany
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Jon/Spencer
POV: 1st (Ryan's)
Summary: An accident lands Ryan in the hospital, and he meets Jon, who tells him of a mysterious patient on their floor. There's something not quite right about him, but then again, there's something not quite right about Ryan as well.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Panic at the Disco. This is all just a by-product of an overactive imagination.
Author Notes: This is a completed story and will be updated every other day. Thanks to my beta pinkkchocolate, I couldn't have done it without you.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Chapter 11
The next morning, I wake up to the sound of a nurse placing my breakfast on the rolly table by my bed.
“Good morning,” the nurse says when she sees that I’m awake. She quietly moves to take my vitals, and when she pulls away, I distinctly see her wink as she turns to fill out my chart. I frown, confused about what that was about, but I turn to my breakfast because I’m starving. Anyway, she leaves my room wordlessly, and I forget all about it.
When I’m done eating, I promptly get up to see if Jon is back, hoping to get to see him for a bit before I have to come back for my antibiotic drip. I move as quickly as I can down to his room, and I notice that his door is open. Sure enough, when I peek in, I can see Jon sitting up in bed, eating his own breakfast. I knock on the doorjamb since I’m used to announcing my arrivals that way for Brendon, and when Jon sees me, he smiles widely. “Ryan!”
I approach him on my crutches, giving him a happy smile myself. “Hey, Jon. Nice to see that you’re doing okay.”
He chuckles. “Well, they’ve got me on painkillers still.” He opens his arms and gives me a look. “Hey, where’s my hug?”
I roll my eyes, but truthfully, I’ve missed Jon’s hugs. I lean forward, and his arms wrap around me with his hand settling in my hair and ruffling it. When he lets go, I grasp the arm of the chair behind me after tucking my crutches under it and sit comfortably. “What’ve you been up to?”
I look down at my hands in my lap. “Nothing, really.”
Silence surrounds us, and it’s uncomfortable and palpable. I chance a look up, and Jon’s face is stern. “You’ve been spending time with that Brendon guy, haven’t you?” He seems to have taken my silence as a yes. “Have you been honest with him?”
I sigh, but under Jon’s gaze, I have to tell him the truth. “No,” I whisper.
He sighs too, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “Ryan… Why?”
“I like him,” I blurt out. “And… And I want him to like me back.”
“How do you know he won’t like you back if you told him about yourself?”
I shake my head. “He won’t. I just… know.” I look back down, twiddling my thumbs nervously. When I look back up, Jon’s face has softened. “He’s wonderful, you know. Too good for me.”
Jon reaches out and squeezes my shoulder in that comforting, Jon way that I’ve come to associate with him. “Oh, Ryan,” he says quietly, “I wish you could see yourself the way me and Spencer see you.”
I bite my lip and contemplate his words. “And how do you guys see me?” I ask.
“Honestly?” Jon says, and I nod. “You’re a great person, Ryan. You’re a good friend and a great listener. You’re a lot of fun and really witty when you’ve forgotten to be self-conscious.”
I have a hard time taking all those compliments, but I nod just the same. Jon continues, “I know you’ve been treated badly in the past, enough so that you’ve come to expect it. But I hate seeing that you’ve got it in your head that you’re worthless. You’re not, Ry.”
I can feel emotion stirring behind my eyes, and I blink to stop it from manifesting. “If he’s worth it,” he says, “he won’t care about your face. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Jon sounds desperate to make me understand, but I’ve still got that nagging feeling in the back of my head. What about all those times people have stared, those times I’ve been met with looks of disgust, those times people have just ignored me all together? Everyday, I face unsympathetic people who would never give a damn about me in a million years. It’s easy to say that Brendon won’t be like the others, but I don’t know that.
Silence engulfs us, and I force myself to think of happier things. There’s a flash of Brendon’s lips close up, and the pain starts to dull.
“He kissed me, you know,” I mutter, the corner of my lip tugging up into a half smile. “I like the way it feels.”
“The kissing?” Jon asks, obviously unsure of where I’m going with my statement.
I shake my head. “Everything. Just… when I’m around him.”
Soon, I’m telling Jon everything. It’s so easy to open up to him, and I’m unsurprised when Jon is all caught up on what Brendon and I have talked about. I tell Jon about Brendon’s lack of visitors and his parents’ absence. I tell him about the handholding and the angel remark. I tell him about the touching and the close calls and about reading to Brendon.
“Can I meet him?” Jon asks after I’m done, and I give him an incredulous look. “I won’t talk about anything you don’t want me to,” he adds. “It’s not my place to bring it up.”
“I… I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I tell him. It gives me an apprehensive feeling. Not only do I think my secret is on the line, I also have a small fear that Brendon will like Jon more than me. I mean, of course Brendon would delude himself into liking me. I’m the only company he gets. But when he meets Jon, Jon will be his usual friendly self, and I can see myself being shunted out of the picture. Everyone likes Jon, and I know Brendon wouldn’t be an exception.
“Why not? You said that Brendon doesn’t get any visitors. He’s been lonely, I’m sure another friend couldn’t hurt.”
And then I think about Brendon all by himself in his room, and I want to beat myself up for wanting to keep him to myself at his expense. Jon’s right, why should I deny Brendon a friend? When the fuck did I become so selfish?
“Yeah, okay,” I say. “When can you get out of bed?” I gesture to the wheelchair a few feet away.
“Later today,” Jon tells me. “They’re switching my meds, but someone’s going to have to push me since they don’t want me to tear my stitches or mess up my back.”
I wince at the thought. “Alright. We’ll see Brendon later then. Besides, Spencer will be here in a couple of hours. He’ll probably be here for most of the afternoon.”
Jon immediately perks up. “Spencer’s coming?”
“Well, duh,” I say, laughing amusedly. “Between you and me, he’s been worried about you so he probably wants to make sure you came out of surgery all in one piece.” I nudge Jon. “Honestly, I was worried too. And I missed you, man.”
“Hey,” he says with a smile, gesturing to himself. “I’ve never been better.”
I bite my lip, remembering something I should probably mention. “Um, Jon, Spencer doesn’t know about Brendon. At all. So please don’t say anything about him. I don’t want him to know.”
The smile has faded from Jon’s face to be replaced by a pained look. “I don’t want to lie to him, Ry,” he says, and I know there’s an unspoken remark about my lack of honesty with Brendon in there.
“Not lie, just… don’t say anything about him.”
“Ryan…” Jon says warningly, and I know that he too finds something familiar in that.
“Please?” I whisper.
I must look fucking pitiful at that point because Jon just looks down and mutters, “Okay.”
------------------
The antibiotic drip is just about finished, and I’m about to dig into whatever it is the hospital saw fit to serve me when my door bursts open, and Spencer strides in with a paper bag in his hands. He’s a lot more hassled-looking than I expected him to be.
“What’s up, Spence?” I ask, setting my fork down.
He tosses the paper bag at me while he goes to bring a chair closer for him to sit in. “I was just at Jon’s room, and when I peeked in, there were a bunch of doctors there.”
I open the bag Spencer had given me and pull out a warm package wrapped in aluminum foil. Further investigation leads me to find that he’d brought a meatball sandwich, my favorite. “Aw, thanks!” I exclaim, and Spencer just waves his hand. “Don’t worry so much, Spence,” I mumble through a full mouth. “I saw him this morning. He’s doing fine, trust me. We’ll go down there in a bit, and then you can have some time alone with him while I go to physical therapy.”
To my relief, he looks a lot less stressed out and a lot more hopeful. I let Spencer tell me about the new guy he works with who is “a complete moron” and “totally incompetent”, while I finish my sandwich. When I’m done, Spencer helps me to my feet and hands me my crutches.
As we walk down the hall, I can sense Spencer’s nerves, and I almost want to laugh. I’ve honestly never seen Spencer act this way before, and it just reminds me how much he likes Jon. It’s really very sweet, and I’m happy for them.
I peek into Jon’s room and knock, and Jon is lying in his bed alone in his room. Spencer follows me in, and at the sight of him, Jon grins and whispers, “Spencer,” who then rushes to his side. Out of the corner of my eye, I see them kiss briefly, and there are hushed words between the two. Spencer keeps asking Jon if he’s okay, and Jon keeps laughing and assuring him that he is.
And I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach, the one that makes me want all that. Whatever it is that Brendon and I have, it’s not as good as what Spencer and Jon have. It’s all my fault, really, because I’m the one who’s lying, going so far as to asking Jon to lie and keep quiet too. But then what other option did I have?
I can see that Spencer and Jon are lost in their own little world, so I make my way over to the door, fully intending to go back to my room and read. “Hey, hey, hey!” I hear Jon say just as my hand touches the doorknob.
I turn around to find the two of them staring disbelievingly at me. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Spencer asks. “Physical therapy isn’t for another hour.”
I shrug. “I just wanted to give you guys time by yourselves.”
“Shut up,” Jon says, waving me back to them. “The three of us are hanging out and that’s final.”