The Free-dom to Eat Rye-Bread

Chapter 13

The gent carried Gavin into the penthouse, carefully setting him down on the couch. "I'm going to go get some ice, okay? Stay right here."

"Ryan, you act like I can go somewhere. I can barely even stand, let alone walk!" Gavin sighed and put a hand up to his head.

"Fine, fine. I'm going to grab that ice now." Ryan walked to the kitchen, opening the freezer. Some frozen marshmallows fell on him and his reaction was to karate chop it.

"Hiya! Oh, wait. It's just marshmallows." He heard laughing from the living room as he grabbed some ice, many paper towels, and a ziploc baggie. He put the frozen water in the bag and wrapped it in paper towels.

Ryan brought the makeshift ice pack out to Gavin.

"Thanks, love," responded the Brit. He took it gingerly and rested it on the back of his head.

"No problem. I mean, I DID cause part of the pain." He patted the lad's knee as he sat beside him.

The room went silent as the two sat there. Ryan looked over the side of the couch, realizing the bag of cash and menthols were still there.

"Hey Gavin, I'll be right back. I have to take a leak." He stood up, grabbed the bag, and quickly absconded to the hallway. He located the conference room and set the bag down on the table.

Ryan then proceeded to the bathroom as previously mentioned. He did his business, washed his hands, and returned back to the injured boy.

"You still doing alright?" He sat beside him on the couch, looking over at him.

"It still hurts a lot. I really hope I don't end up kicking it. That'd suck." Gavin mentioned almost nonchalantly. "Especially for everyone else. I don't know how Geoff would react. I know he'd probably be upset. Most days I don't know. What about you, Ryan? How'd you react if I died?"

Ryan just sat there, a blank look on his face. His eyes, however, told a different story. They were full of hurt and sadness. He blinked a few times and they cleared.

"Well, I'd probably go ape shit and kill some people, rob some shit. I'd then proceed to more public things, attract the attention of the cops. Kill someone famous or important, you know? Have them chase me, kill them. I'd probably end up dying some terrible death, my body riddled with bullet holes. This is all hypothetical. A different scenario could be that I just go back to drinking and become an alcoholic. Or another could be that I end up killing the rest of the crew." The Mad King shrugged and just looked down at his hands. "I really don't know what I'd do if you died, Gavin."

Gavin remained silent but moved over to Ryan and rested against him. "I'll try not to die then."

"Good."

The door opened and Geoff and Michael entered.

"Hey, how are you, champ?" Geoff squatted in front if Gavin. "How's your head?"

"It hurts. A lot."

"Well, Ray's contact at the hospital will be here soon. How about you go lay down in your room until then, okay?"

"I want to stay out here though. With you guys." Gavin sat up before just slumping against the back of the couch in pain.

"No. You need to go lay down, Gav," Ryan said sternly. "If you don't, I won't tell you at all."

"I-... Fine.. You have to carry me though," said the injured.

"I can live with that." He scooped the boy into his lap before standing up and carrying him to his room. He set him down on his bed. He turned to leave the room.

"Wait, uh.. Don't leave. You have to clean up my room," Gavin blubbered out an excuse.

Ryan cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Is that the best excuse you have?"

"It's not an excuse! You made the bloody mess, so you have to clean it," Gavin stated, trying to sound like he was right.

"Your room. So it's your mess. Give me a better reason."

"I.. I shouldn't be alone. My head and all."

"Hmm.. Better. Fine, I'll stay."