Ryden Oneshots

The Importance of Changing the Fish Water

When Brendon's fish died it was kind of significant and no one could put their finger on why. Ryan had told him that the fish wouldn't survive on the bus. Actually, Jon had told him that. What Ryan had said was more along the lines of: “You can't even keep your own bunk clean, how do you expect to keep up with a fish? A fish whose water will need to be changed at least once a week, or else it will end up with the same funk in it as can be found around the pile of you and Jon's boxers. Except in a way that's more tangible and actual than just wavy lines from a comic panel of things that smell horrible.” But everyone had agreed with Ryan, everyone down to Zack. And Pete, when Brendon called him in a final effort.

Brendon had forged ahead with the plan though, slipping off to a PetSmart when the bus stopped to refuel. Ryan had looked at the small glass bowl gripped tightly in Brendon's hands and vowed to make sure the driver only stopped at stations in the middle of nowhere from now on. Brendon Urie could obviously not be trusted in a strip mall.

Ryan had assumed that he would have found himself standing over the stained bowl of a dirty rest stop toilet much sooner than he actually did. But things had ended with Audrey and it had been a feat for Ryan and the others to get Brendon to take care of himself for a few days there, let alone a small, scaly charge. There were just priorities.

“Genie will be missed.” Jon's head was bowed and he looked thoughtfully into the bowl and the blue and purple beta that was half floating in the water. Brendon nodded.

“We'll never have a friend like him. Again, I mean.” Spencer tried his best not to laugh, which didn't make things easy on Ryan, but he managed to check the quirk in his lips before it became a full fledged grin. Brendon widened his eyes and stared at Spencer. Spencer scowled. “What?”

“Asshole,” Brendon said. He pulled some toilet paper off the roll and used it to protect his hand while he pushed the handle to flush the toilet. He dropped the paper onto Genie just as he disappeared, swirling like a top, down into the piping and was sent off to god knows where. Probably the pond out back. Ryan wrinkled his nose as Brendon crossed himself.

“Do Mormons even do that?” Ryan asked because he was honestly curious, not because he was making fun of Brendon in any way. He would never kid about something as serious as a dead fish.

“In nomine patri,” Spencer added.

“I saw it in a movie once. It just felt right.”

Spencer rolled his eyes and Jon kicked him softly in the shin. It really was kind of ridiculous, the whole thing, but it meant something to Brendon and Ryan was all for keeping his singer happy. He suspected that the whole thing was symbolic of Brendon letting go of Audrey anyway. They probably should have flushed the tube of lipstick she'd left on the bus, but Jon had thrown that away on accident two days ago.

They stood there in silence, not looking at each other, until Jon's stomach growled.

“Does anyone want tacos?” Spencer pushed himself around Brendon and out of the stall before anyone could answer him. Jon shrugged and followed after him, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. Brendon didn't move so Ryan stayed where he was. When Ryan looked up Brendon was staring at him, head tilted slightly to the left. Then Brendon gave a small sigh and, having drawn his conclusion, left Ryan alone with nothing but the high humming sound of the toilet's tank refilling to answer the question on the tip of his tongue.

...

Ryan was stretched out on the couch at the front of the bus, laid out on his stomach with his feet in the air, ankles crossed, flipping idly through a copy of some indie newspaper local to Portland without actually reading the words. They were three states away now, and he couldn't bring himself to imagine that what guerrilla reporters had to say about tax issues in Portland could matter much in Colorado, but it was nice to have something to trail his eyes over that he hadn't seen a thousand times over the last couple of months. His copy of Tales of Ordinary Madness was starting to show signs of protest in the form of losing pages every time he touched it.