We never had to force love.
We were drowning in it before we even knew it.
From the moment we met.
We were meant to be.
.\.|./.
Ryan Falls
| in which he forgets when he's dreaming |
I feel strange.
Mostly because I don't know what Crystal is thinking, but also because I don't know what to say. She's been awfully quiet since we got on the road, and though I want to break her out of her thoughts, I have no idea what to talk about.
Maybe she wants me to tell her stories about my own family. Maybe she wants to hear about my mom and my dad, about the mistakes I made and the love they showered me with. Maybe she wants to know about me.
I have nothing to tell her, nothing good at least. I have no memories from LA, none that I want to relive. I was a delinquent, a rowdy mess of everything flawed and broken. I was the boy people admired and feared at the same time, but no one knew. I was a beautiful illusion, a mystery they wanted to fantasize about but not unravel. I didn't want them to unravel me either, for the only thing they would see under my glittering exterior was darkness.
Darkness and secrets, pain and scars, a curse I was trapped in since I was seven.
I don't know what to tell Crystal. I don't have those favorite spots to take her to, or those stories that would make her laugh. I don't have friends I would like her to meet or things to show her. I have nothing from my past that I want to drag into the present, and definitely never into the future. Some memories are better discarded and some skins shed, burned and their ashes buried.
She falls asleep after a while, her head against the back of the seat and eyes closed. I glance at her and smile, uplifted by the fact that she didn't ask. Even if she has questions, I'm glad she has the decency to leave them unasked.
Taking short breaks on the drive is the best part of it, getting out of the car to stretch and splash some water on my face, while Crystal stares out at the scene with awe. We don't need to speak, comfortable in our silence.
That is until reality catches up to us.
The sky outside begins to darken, and even when Crystal wakes up and asks me if we're there yet, I laugh and shift back into silence. In my haste to get Crystal away from everything haunting her, I forgot to take my demons into account. I hadn't thought about all the things that would stand between me and her happiness, since they were all parts of me.
My heart beats fast as darkness envelops us, and my mind is already drifting away from me. I'm still over 3,000 miles and seventy hours away from the destination, but the monsters that haunt my mind come out as soon as the sun sets. Crystal's silence only adds to the effect, and my hands clench the wheel tighter, my breathing labored.
'Let's play, Ryan,' his throaty voice echoes in my head. 'You close your eyes while I hide, alright?'
'Why are you tying my hands, uncle Grey?'
'You'll see, kiddo. Now, just hush!' He chuckled.
But I was no longer seven. I was seventeen, a grown man, no longer a kid. Yet he controlled me. He controlled me with a single blink. He controlled me with a flick of his finger. He controlled me with the tapes hidden away in his basement.
'Stop!' I had tried to fight. I had trembled on my feet every time he told me to descend the stairs into the living hell. 'Please just stop.'
'You know what I'll do, Ryan. Now come on, kiddo.'
I didn't have the courage to fight. I was a coward, afraid of being known as the broken boy. It was better to be broken and known as a whole than to be whole and known as broken. At least that's what I had thought.
I had been wrong.
His breath tickles my skin, and I reach up a trembling hand to turn on the light over the dash. The bright halo of light floods my vision, temporarily blinding me to the outside. The Alaskan Highway is nearly empty, with only a few cars moving to and fro. My attention, however, is on the slowly disappearing laugh of the man who will forever be in my head. Even after moving away from his physical presence, he stays with me everywhere I go.
"Ryan?"
Her warm hand touches mine and I nearly jump. I glance her way, seeing the yellow light reflected in her blue eyes.
"You okay?" she asks softly.
I force a smile, exhaling a shaky breath under the pretext of laughing.
"Just tired," I lie. I don't meet her gaze when I lie, turning my eyes back to the road that I can finally see again. The truth is that I had almost forgotten Crystal was beside me, plunged into the darkness of my past. It scares me how it even blocks out Crystal's light.
"I can drive halfway," she suggests, her fingers still on my hand.
I shift my hand so that my fingers wind through hers. Her touch calms me, and though it doesn't help as much as alcohol did in LA, it's still something.
"I'm up now," I say, smiling at Crystal to comfort her.
She isn't fooled, and I don't know whether to love her for how she can see through me or worry about what she'll think if she finds out that my demons are far worse than hers.
The headlights and the faint glow from the dome-light keep my monsters at bay while I drive for the next couple of hours, and though we had stacked up on snacks and water before getting on the highway, I can see Crystal tiring already. It's been over ten hours since we got on the road, and she keeps shifting in her sitting position.
"Ryan, let me drive," she finally says. "You must be tired."
I am, but I pretend not to be. It was my call to take the road, and Crystal shouldn't have to pay for my choices. Not that I wanted to drive all the way to LA since flying would have been both cheaper and more convenient. The disappearance of Crystal ID and passport was a definite issue there, though, and I didn't want to wait until she got new ones.
What if Jeremy came back?
What if he hurt her again?
What if I ended up in jail for his murder?
"Can we at least stop so you can rest for a while?" she asks.
"Crystal --"
"At least stop so I can pee."
I look at her. "Really?"
She raises her eyebrows. "Can't I?"
I don't answer, fighting a smile and pulling up on the side of the road. It's probably not safe to do so, but asking Crystal to hold her bladder is too cruel. After the torture she has endured, I don't think she should have to handle that. Actually ... I don't think anyone should have to handle that.
As soon as I stop the car and turn to Crystal, she leans back in her seat and folds her arms across the chest. I blink, not knowing what to do or say.
"We have water and toilet paper?" I suggest.
Crystal snorts. "Shut up, Ryan," she says with an eye-roll. "I made you stop so you can rest. Seriously, you need to give yourself a break. You've been driving non-stop for how long? Eleven hours?"
I shrug hesitantly, knowing she's right. My shoulders are stiff and back aching, not to mention my bad leg, which feels like it's weighed down by a cement black and has a thousand spiders crawling over it.
"It's not safe to stop here," I point out.
"It's not safe for you to drive this much either," she reminds me. "Let me drive if you don't want to stop."
I sigh, leaning back in my seat. I admit, I kind of like Crystal having her way, but does it have to be now? I'm mentally fragile at this ungodly hour, but at least her stubbornness is a good enough distraction.
"Fine," I comply, pouting.
A smile lights up her face, and I love that I can make her happy like this. I love that she's going back to normal, and I love that she seems better. Did I mention I love her? I do, but I don't say it, afraid of scaring her off. I bet she's heard that one too many times, and if I say it at the wrong time, she might just think I'm lying.
"What are you looking at?" she asks, catching me staring at her.
"You look like a potato," I say without a beat.
Crystal looks surprised before laughing.
"Well, you're Pringles," she counters.
"Pringles?" I burst out laughing. "That's the lamest comeback ever."
"Your pickup line was the lamest ever too, you don't see me complaining," she says.
I keep laughing, watching her grin and fight to hide it.
"What can I say? I've never needed pickup lines to impress girls before," I say, teasing her. "They just take one look at me and bam!"
"They die?" she jokes, feigning horror.
I scowl. "No. They fall madly in love with me."
She forces a loud laugh. "Yeah, someone's too full of himself."
"Trust me, love," I say in a pseudo British accent. "If I wanted, I could have you begging for my touch right now."
She doesn't answer, watching me closely. I can see it in her eyes, that she doesn't really disagree.
But me? I liked it better when she was joking. So I wiggle my eyebrows and pout my lips so that I'm pretty sure I resemble a duck. It works, and Crystal bursts out laughing.
"Yeah, sure, Prince Harry." She rolls her eyes.
I make weird faces for the next few seconds, causing Crystal to laugh so hard she clutches her ribs and wheezes. I've never found pigs cute, but Crystal is amazing even with a laugh that sounds like a pig's mating call.
Even when she leans in and places her head on my shoulder, her fingers winding through mine, I can't stop smiling. Not only is Crystal going back to her old self, but I feel so much more relaxed than I did before we stopped. Maybe listening to Crystal is actually a good idea. The girl has some brains.
"Ryan?"
Her voice is soft when she speaks, as gentle as the fingers between mine.
I grunt to indicate that I'm listening.
"Thank you."
I close my eyes, shifting so that my arm curls around her shoulder. I pull Crystal to myself, wrapping my arms around her frame and burying my face in her hair.
This -- this moment with Crystal in my arms, our hearts beating as one and the only sound we can hear the slow background music of the radio -- is perfection. The kind of perfection I feigned. The kind of perfection I craved. The kind of perfection everyone dreams about.
But of course, perfection is an illusion, and we -- naïve, wishful human beings -- always forget this when dreaming. We forget that dreams end, and we are bound to wake up.
Always.
.\.|./.
A/N: The song in the media reminded me instantly of Ryan. How about you?
P.S. I think I'm overdoing the foreshadowing :D but it's almost over so I'm sorry you guys have to put up with my first drafts. Maybe if I finished the story before posting it, it would be better. But I like it this way better, so ...