Let Me Go (Ryden)

Chapter XI

(Not really sure about this but putting it up anyway)
[TRIGGER WARNING]

Ryan wasn't doing very well. And while that could be expected, since he had, you know, cancer, it wasn't just that. There was something else going on too, Brendon just wasn't quite sure what yet. He tried to do what he could, but Ryan seemed to be constantly tired and in pain. Most days, Ryan needed a lot of encouragement just to do simple things. Brendon was now beginning to wonder whether or not they'd be able to leave town for the holidays, or if it'd be too much of a trip for Ryan, who didn't even have Brendon take him out of bed most days. They'd just have to wait and see, he guessed. Brendon paced the living room floor, deep in thought.
"Brendon," Ryan's voice called from the bedroom. Brendon walked into their bedroom and over to their bed, where Ryan was lying.
"Hey babe," he murmured sleepily, his hazel eyes open just a crack.
"Hi," Brendon said softly. Ryan fully opened his eyes to look at Brendon. "How are you feeling?"
"Not great," Ryan answered. "As usual." Brendon sat on the bed next to Ryan.
"Do you wanna come sit out on the couch?" He asked, not really knowing what else to do. His boyfriend shrugged.
"Sure," he replied.
Brendon scooped Ryan up and carefully carried his boyfriend to the couch. After setting him down, Brendon began pacing the floor again.
"Babe, sit down," Ryan said. Brendon stopped pacing. He ran his hands through his hair, glancing at him.
"Have you even slept in a week? Take care of yourself, for God's sake, Brendon, you can't expect to be able to do anything for me if you don't do anything for you!" Ryan didn't look angry, just sort of sad. Brendon sighed and turned towards Ryan.
"I will, okay?! I will." He wouldn't. They both knew it. But Ryan didn't press, he just turned on the TV. Brendon walked out of the room and into the hallway. He had to get out of here, now, before his thoughts consumed him. Grabbing his coat, he headed for the door, yelling over his shoulder,
"I'm going out, not for too long, but call me if you need me," He got into his car and waited for it to warm up before blasting the heat. And once the car was warm enough, he drove. He wasn't sure where he was going. But they lived in a small town, and within half an hour, he was out of town and driving along a road in seemingly the middle of nowhere. His head pounded, his mind raced, thoughts flooded in. Eventually he was forced to pull over, he couldn't focus on the road any longer. He hunched over, rubbing his temples, shaking his head, he couldn't shake the thoughts out of his head. Brendon couldn't clear his mind. He was trapped inside his brain and couldn't find his way out. He took deep, shuddering breaths, he could hear his heart thumping in his ears, feel it slamming against his rib cage. Brendon's head spun, his vision blurred, he felt dizzy. He couldn't hear anything over the sound of his beating heart, it drowned all other sound out. Brendon felt nauseous, but he hadn't eaten anything in a few days, so there was nothing for him to throw up. Vaguely, through the thick fog clouding his senses, he heard his phone ring. But he couldn't pick it up. He knew it was either Ryan or Jon, most likely Ryan, but he couldn't answer it, he was frozen, shaking, with his arms wrapped around his head, trying to restore his mind to a clearer state. He needed air. Brendon weakly reached out a trembling hand and opened the car door. He tumbled out onto the cold, frozen ground, gasping in large breaths of the icy outside air. What was wrong with him? He sat there on the ground, just trying to breathe, to calm himself down. He knew what he needed. But he couldn't do it, no, he wouldn't. After all this, it just wouldn't be fair to Ryan. He removed his still shaking arms from where they'd been wrapped around his head, and gazed down at the pale, almost nonexistent scars lining his inner arms, gently tracing them with a finger. No, there was no way he'd do it again. Maybe he needed it, maybe he wanted it, but he'd find some other way to deal with this. Brendon eventually found the strength to get up, steady himself, and get back into the car; he didn't know how long he'd been out, he guessed about an hour or two, but it was too long, with Ryan in the condition he was in. He started the drive back to their house in silence.

~~~

Brendon stumbled up the walkway to their front door, stopping to lean against the doorway, steeling himself so that he wouldn't need to run out again. He inserted the key and turned, opening the door.
"Ry, I'm home!" He called into their silent house.
"Finally," Ryan sounded relieved. "I can't believe you!" Now he sounded angry.
"You said you wouldn't be out long, and you know how long it's been Brendon, it's been eight and a half hours since you left. Eight and a half!!! That's pretty fucking long, don't you think. What were you even doing, anyway?!"
What?! Brendon thought. He hadn't been out that long had he? It certainly didn't feel like it. He really didn't want to go into the living room and face a furious Ryan, but he knew he had to. Brendon cautiously walked into the living room, ready to get a thorough chewing out. His boyfriend lay sprawled on the floor between their couch and the coffee table.
Oh, Ry, I'm so sorry. Brendon thought as he rushed over to him, remembering only then that his phone had been ringing at times during his meltdown earlier. Brendon moved Ryan into a sitting position, supporting him, since he couldn't do it on his own. Ryan bit his lip, but still looked angry.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't realize how long I'd been out, and I guess I didn't hear my phone ringing, or I would've come home, you know that." He brushed some of Ryan's long brown hair out of his face, kissing the top of his head.
"What were you even doing while you were out, anyway?" Ryan mumbled, still a bit mad.
"I can't tell you," Brendon answered. "Not yet, anyway." Although he never planned on telling Ryan what had happened, who knew, he might, someday.
"Why not?" Ryan asked.
"Because I just can't, Ry, okay?" Brendon sighed.
"Okay..." Ryan looked unsure, his big hazel eyes searching Brendon's.
"So why are you on the floor? You didn't try to get up again, did you?" Brendon questioned.
"I-I don't know. I was just sitting on the couch, and I guess I leaned forward a little or something, because I just sort of lost my balance and fell off." Ryan answered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh. Well, come on, let's get off of this floor," Brendon said, picking Ryan up. He glanced down at his boyfriend, who was biting his lip again, looking away. He put Ryan on the couch, then flopped down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. There was no way Brendon was completely stable, he knew that now, but he couldn't ask Ryan for help, not again. Hopefully, his mental state would get better, maybe if he just took a day off, which of course, he probably couldn't. They were stuck in what Brendon thought to be the worst situation possible, but little did he know, he was wrong.

~~~

It began with a phone call. Brendon was out again, visiting Jon and Spencer in the hospital. Hearing his phone ring, Brendon walked out of the room where Jon and Spencer were, knowing it was Ryan. He answered the call.
"Ry?"
"Come home. Now." Ryan sounded terrified, his voice a shaky whisper.
"Babe, what's wrong?" Brendon asked.
"Just come home, please Brendon, before it happens." Ryan pleaded.
It? What the fuck was it supposed to be? Brendon's chest tightened with worry, his mind racing. Ryan is not dying, no, he's just scared. He has to be. He can't die, not now!
Brendon thought.
"Okay, I'm coming. I'll be there soon." Brendon hung up and dashed out of the hospital, not even bothering to say anything to Jon about why he was leaving so suddenly. He had to get home. He didn't wait for the car to warm up, it was dangerous, and a bad idea, but he didn't really care. But that's pretty irrelevant, as it's not part of the problem he ran into. On the way home, he sped. A little. Okay, a lot. Sort of. But he hit a patch of black ice, and the car went spinning out of control, until it stopped, by crashing straight into a telephone pole, which then proceeded to fall on top of the car, knocking Brendon unconscious.