We'll Have To Start Over Again [1/5]
Title: We'll Have To Start Over Again [1/5]
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 1st, Ryan's
Summary: Ryan can't remember the last twelve years of his life. Literally.
Word Count: 965 [this part]; 4,353 [total]
Disclaimer: Not my boys, never happened. Don't Google yourselves, kids. Especially you, Bden, I see you lurking over there. *SpencerSmithglare*
Beta: phoenix_vixen
Author Notes: This was one of those ideas I kind of just pulled out of my ass. I forget what even made me think of it. :/
Chapter 2 : Chapter 3 : Chapter 4 : Chapter 5
I woke up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, various medical devices spread out around me. I realized I was in a hospital and it was because of that it was unfamiliar, I reasoned. Little did I know that nothing would feel familiar to me for a while.
I knew my name was George Ryan Ross and that I usually went by my middle name because I liked it better. I knew I was twenty-two. I knew my hair and eyes were both a medium brown. I knew I was musically inclined. I knew that I had friends, other than Spencer, and a job and a life.
But I couldn't remember the last twelve years of my life. Even the best of my memories were vague and faceless, the voices distorted and robotic, the words jumbled together like trying to listen through a wall filled with water.
"Ryan, you're awake!" A young man around my age came into view, his full lips pulled into a genuine smile, his dark brown hair messy from restless sleep. He approached the bed and sat in the nearby chair, his dark brown eyes worriedly searching my own.
I didn't know who he was, but I figured if he knew to call me Ryan, he must know me better than some hospital staff member, and therefore know what the hell was going on. I knew it was later in the week, maybe Thursday or Friday, and that between Monday and now, all was black. "Yeah... what happened to me?"
"You've been in a coma since Monday. It's Thursday now. The doc said you'd come out of it eventually, but we were so worried, Ry."
I would have questioned the "we" and the nickname, but he had grabbed my hand and I freaked. My only reaction was to jerk it away quickly. A confused and slightly hurt look crossed his face.
"I-I'm sorry," I apologized without thinking, the look in his eyes making me feel way too guilty. "But I don't know who you are."
He laughed. "Quit fooling around, Ry." He was smiling, but his eyes weren't.
"I'm not. I don't even know your name."
He was still grinning, but his eyebrows were knitted with worry. "It's me, Ry. It's me, Brendon, your best friend. Your..."
His face fell with the realization and he put his head in his hands. I apologized again, feeling somehow responsible.
"No, no, it's okay. It's not your fault. The doctor said this might happen. I just wish...," he began, reaching for my face but stopping himself with a frustrated sigh. "I'll go tell them you're awake."
I attempted a smile, hoping it would at least cheer him up a little. For some reason, I felt I should be the one protecting him, not the other way around. I thought it was because he looked so young and innocent, but I knew in my heart that it was something entirely different. I just wasn't sure what that was yet.
***
I had retrograde amnesia, according to the doctor. I could remember everything after the accident with perfect clarity and I could recall basic events from before it, but I couldn't remember specific details, including the people in them. He said they would be keeping me in the hospital for a little longer to make sure I was stable enough to go home.
Home. I didn't even know where that was.
"Someone will have to take care of you until you get your memory back. You can do basic tasks like tying your shoes and getting around on a phone or computer, but more complicated things like, say, playing an instrument or driving may need to be relearned."
"No problem there," Brendon replied with a silly grin. "We live together, I'll be there 24/7."
The doctor gave us a strange look before walking out and I was suddenly terrified to be alone with Brendon. I didn't even know him and I was going to live with him? He seemed like a nice guy and he had said we lived together before, but this was fucking ridiculous.
"So, why was I in a coma? What happened, Brendon?"
The name rolled off my tongue so easily, I wondered if I had even said it aloud. His eyes lit up when I said it, and I could tell he was repressing something.
"We were in a car wreck."
"We?"
"Yeah, you and me. We were in your Mercedes Monday night. We were gonna go see The Dark Knight at the theater, which you've seen, like, a bazillion times..."
"You've seen this movie, like, a bazillion times, Ry."
"...And you kept telling me that it was this amazing movie that I just had to see..."
"So? It's a good movie. Besides, you've never seen it."
"...And then you said something about having an excuse for something... I don't really remember the details that well myself..."
"You've pretty much told me the whole thing. Like I need to see it."
I laughed. "Can't I have an excuse to dote on you? You're insatiable, Bren, honestly."
He snorted. "You always treat me like your little pet. Not that I don't like it or anything. I just wish I could do the same for you sometimes."
"Next time, Brenny. Next time, I'll let you pick whatever-"
"Ryan, watch out!"
"Ryan? Ryan, are you okay? Breathe!"
I gasped for air, and the heart monitor to my right was going spastic.
"Ry, calm down. What happened?"
I never got the chance to tell him, for a team of two or three nurses rushed in, pushing him away and injecting something into my IV. I saw him struggling with a particularly large nurse, his eyes wide with worry as I fell unconscious.
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 1st, Ryan's
Summary: Ryan can't remember the last twelve years of his life. Literally.
Word Count: 965 [this part]; 4,353 [total]
Disclaimer: Not my boys, never happened. Don't Google yourselves, kids. Especially you, Bden, I see you lurking over there. *SpencerSmithglare*
Beta: phoenix_vixen
Author Notes: This was one of those ideas I kind of just pulled out of my ass. I forget what even made me think of it. :/
Chapter 2 : Chapter 3 : Chapter 4 : Chapter 5
I woke up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, various medical devices spread out around me. I realized I was in a hospital and it was because of that it was unfamiliar, I reasoned. Little did I know that nothing would feel familiar to me for a while.
I knew my name was George Ryan Ross and that I usually went by my middle name because I liked it better. I knew I was twenty-two. I knew my hair and eyes were both a medium brown. I knew I was musically inclined. I knew that I had friends, other than Spencer, and a job and a life.
But I couldn't remember the last twelve years of my life. Even the best of my memories were vague and faceless, the voices distorted and robotic, the words jumbled together like trying to listen through a wall filled with water.
"Ryan, you're awake!" A young man around my age came into view, his full lips pulled into a genuine smile, his dark brown hair messy from restless sleep. He approached the bed and sat in the nearby chair, his dark brown eyes worriedly searching my own.
I didn't know who he was, but I figured if he knew to call me Ryan, he must know me better than some hospital staff member, and therefore know what the hell was going on. I knew it was later in the week, maybe Thursday or Friday, and that between Monday and now, all was black. "Yeah... what happened to me?"
"You've been in a coma since Monday. It's Thursday now. The doc said you'd come out of it eventually, but we were so worried, Ry."
I would have questioned the "we" and the nickname, but he had grabbed my hand and I freaked. My only reaction was to jerk it away quickly. A confused and slightly hurt look crossed his face.
"I-I'm sorry," I apologized without thinking, the look in his eyes making me feel way too guilty. "But I don't know who you are."
He laughed. "Quit fooling around, Ry." He was smiling, but his eyes weren't.
"I'm not. I don't even know your name."
He was still grinning, but his eyebrows were knitted with worry. "It's me, Ry. It's me, Brendon, your best friend. Your..."
His face fell with the realization and he put his head in his hands. I apologized again, feeling somehow responsible.
"No, no, it's okay. It's not your fault. The doctor said this might happen. I just wish...," he began, reaching for my face but stopping himself with a frustrated sigh. "I'll go tell them you're awake."
I attempted a smile, hoping it would at least cheer him up a little. For some reason, I felt I should be the one protecting him, not the other way around. I thought it was because he looked so young and innocent, but I knew in my heart that it was something entirely different. I just wasn't sure what that was yet.
***
I had retrograde amnesia, according to the doctor. I could remember everything after the accident with perfect clarity and I could recall basic events from before it, but I couldn't remember specific details, including the people in them. He said they would be keeping me in the hospital for a little longer to make sure I was stable enough to go home.
Home. I didn't even know where that was.
"Someone will have to take care of you until you get your memory back. You can do basic tasks like tying your shoes and getting around on a phone or computer, but more complicated things like, say, playing an instrument or driving may need to be relearned."
"No problem there," Brendon replied with a silly grin. "We live together, I'll be there 24/7."
The doctor gave us a strange look before walking out and I was suddenly terrified to be alone with Brendon. I didn't even know him and I was going to live with him? He seemed like a nice guy and he had said we lived together before, but this was fucking ridiculous.
"So, why was I in a coma? What happened, Brendon?"
The name rolled off my tongue so easily, I wondered if I had even said it aloud. His eyes lit up when I said it, and I could tell he was repressing something.
"We were in a car wreck."
"We?"
"Yeah, you and me. We were in your Mercedes Monday night. We were gonna go see The Dark Knight at the theater, which you've seen, like, a bazillion times..."
"You've seen this movie, like, a bazillion times, Ry."
"...And you kept telling me that it was this amazing movie that I just had to see..."
"So? It's a good movie. Besides, you've never seen it."
"...And then you said something about having an excuse for something... I don't really remember the details that well myself..."
"You've pretty much told me the whole thing. Like I need to see it."
I laughed. "Can't I have an excuse to dote on you? You're insatiable, Bren, honestly."
He snorted. "You always treat me like your little pet. Not that I don't like it or anything. I just wish I could do the same for you sometimes."
"Next time, Brenny. Next time, I'll let you pick whatever-"
"Ryan, watch out!"
"Ryan? Ryan, are you okay? Breathe!"
I gasped for air, and the heart monitor to my right was going spastic.
"Ry, calm down. What happened?"
I never got the chance to tell him, for a team of two or three nurses rushed in, pushing him away and injecting something into my IV. I saw him struggling with a particularly large nurse, his eyes wide with worry as I fell unconscious.