a thin line between - part four
Master Post | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Fanmix
Brendon loves Sarah.
He loves her for her sense of humor, for the fact that she can beat him at miniature golf. He loves her for the fact that she loves him unconditionally. She takes the manic days where he can't seem to slow himself down. She takes the nights he doesn't come to bed until the sun's nearly up. He loves that she'll wake him on mornings when the surf is supposed to be fantastic and the she's already called Spencer to 'come get his sorry ass, so get out of bed already'.
Sarah is the closest thing to perfect that Brendon's ever known. She loves him for the person he is. And Brendon loves her, he does, more than any other girl he's known. But he's never told her about what he is, what he carries inside himself. So there's always something he's holding back, that little bit of himself that he can't quite seem to give away. So Brendon loves Sarah, but he's afraid it will never be enough. Not for him and definitely not for her.
She deserves a whole heart, but Brendon is selfish and will take whatever time she's willing to give him.
~*~
The sun is setting and from his vantage point down the street, Spencer watches the lights come on in the Urie household. His cell phone is in his hands and he stops himself from hitting the power button again. It's dead, but he's pressed it half a dozen times since he pulled over. He wants to get out and walk down there, ring the doorbell and demand-he doesn't know, really-answers? They don't know anything, or if they do, they'd decided long ago not to give them to Brendon.
Spencer remembers those days, the circles under Brendon's eyes, the way his shoulders would fall when he was sure nobody was watching. During that time, Spencer had constantly stopped himself from yelling at Brendon's parents. They had this amazing, talented son, and couldn't see the forest for their damn religious trees.
Knowing what he knows now, it puts a whole new spin on everything.
The anger is still there, he notes with surprise. It's tempered now, but still. They're parents, they're supposed to love without condition.
Thinking about parents makes Spencer's mind wander to his own. He's lucky, he knows that, but obviously there's something different about him, too. That lady in Seattle knew it. Brendon knows it. The thing that keeps running around his head, other than the fact that Brendon and Shane turn into fucking wolves, is whether or not it was something that was already inside him or whether that bite from Brendon is the cause.
He looks down. In the fading light, the scar is hard to see, but the skin is smooth when he runs a finger over it.
The shout of a small child startles him and he looks up to find the Urie's have visitors. It looks like Kara. Spencer watches as her youngest runs up the walkway. Spencer can't remember her name, but he knows Brendon has a picture of her in his wallet. It takes tiptoes but she reaches the doorbell and a second later Grace opens the door.
There's another irrational flash of anger. Things are better now between Brendon and his parents, but he's always the one to initiate contact, to call on birthdays. It's not fair. Spencer runs a hand over his face. He should be mad at Brendon, not sitting here thinking that he'd still like to go pound on that door and demand to know what the hell they were thinking.
He should be mad at Brendon and he is, definitely, but somewhere along the long hours on the road, he's had enough time to process why Brendon and Shane would choose to keep something like that from him, from the world in general. He's got a million questions, but he’s not quite ready to face them quite yet.
*
His mom is going to kill him if she finds out that he was home and didn't come to visit, but he's not up to seeing them. She's his mother and entirely too good at knowing when something is wrong and then making him talk about it. He doesn't think Well, Brendon bit me and it turns out he turns into a wolf sometimes and now I can feel his emotions when he's close enough. I'm also involved in a pseudo-relationship with the only other person who knows about Brendon. Oh yeah, he also happens to turn into a wolf occasionally.
Spencer laughs at the thought, the sound a little bitter. There's an unopened phone charger on the bed next to him. He tosses his cell down next to it, picks up the hotel phone and orders a pizza.
The hotel is close to the North Las Vegas Airport, the sound of the casino and planes drowning out a lot of the white noise in Spencer's head. He doesn't want to think about the fact that hopefully it'll cover any screams as well. The nightmares are closer; it's like he can feel them running underneath his skin, ready to claw their way out.
He spends more than a couple of hours down in the casino, hits a small jackpot and loses it an hour later. There's a lady standing near him and she puts a hand on his arm, smiling up at him. For a split second, Spencer's terrified that she's one of them, but she just gives him a sympathetic glance, murmurs better luck next time and moves away.
Spencer sucks in a breath and goes back to the room. He stands under the shower until he stops shaking.
He orders a ridiculously expensive pint of Jack Daniels and proceeds to get thoroughly trashed. When the nightmares wake him up later, he rolls over the side of the bed and barely makes it to the bathroom in time to puke.
*
The charger remains in the package and the only thing that makes the next night different is that Spencer orders tequila instead. He doesn't puke this time, but the headache is twice as bad.
*
By the third night, he's sleeping in fits of forty to fifty minutes.
He finally opens the phone charger.
*
Spencer's lying on his hotel bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He's in the middle of an inane thought about needing to towel-dry his hair more after he gets out of the shower when his phone beeps. He turns his head and looks over it. After a moment, he reaches over and picks it up, pulling the charge cord out and hitting the power button. It takes a moment but the screen finally lights up. The missed call pop-up box blinks into view.
36 Missed Calls. Below that it reads 92 Messages.
He scrolls through the missed calls list. Unsurprisingly, most of them are from the first couple of days. Pete's number shows up the day before and then all of a sudden there’s Ryan’s number. Spencer can feel his eyebrows rise. He thinks about listening to the messages, but doesn’t really want to hear their voices right now.
Instead, he looks at the text messages. It's a similar pattern, a majority of the texts coming in on the first few days and tapering off in the last day or so.
Please pick up your phone
I can explain
Answer your phone dammit
A couple days in, the tone changes. Brendon has never been good with being ignored.
Fucking answer your phone dick
You need to come home
At least call Shane, he needs you
That one makes Spencer pause. It's followed by Brendon's last text, sent nearly 18 hours ago.
fuck you come home
The last text in his phone is from Ryan. I don't know what happened, but if Brendon is calling me then you should probably answer your phone
He's got Ryan's number keyed in with his finger hovering over the call button before he knows it. He doesn't hit the button though, slumping back against the headboard and dropping his hands down into his lap instead. Something's bothering him and it's not until he pulls up the message list again that he figures it out.
There are no messages from Shane.
The missed called log only shows one, the very first missed call. Spencer hits the voicemail and lifts the phone to his ear.
So, um. That happened. Something twists in Spencer's stomach at the sound of Shane's voice. It's kind of stupid, but Spencer realizes in that instant that maybe he hasn't just been fooling around with Shane, that's it's more than having a good time. Fuck. I don't really know, uh, what to say. I'm sorry, I guess? You shouldn't have had to find out like that. We should have told you. Definitely should have told you a long time ago, but hey- there's a little self-deprecating laugh, twisted -I'm not really sure how you go about telling your boyf-ah,your friend-friends-that you can turn into an animal, right? Anyway. The phone hits something and Spencer can hear Shane sigh, picture him running his hand over his face. I know you're-You're probably a little freaked out- There’s a sharp bark in the background. Okay, a lot freaked out right now, but- Shane's voice catches and Spencer swallows hard. Please be careful and call me-call us-when you can.
The automated voice comes on and Spencer hits end before it gets very far.
Fuck.
Fuck.
All of sudden Spencer can't breathe, doubling over gasping for air as it really hits him.
He's spent the last week not thinking about, not really, and it's all coming with a vengeance now, flashing over and over. The woman outside the club, that morning in the kitchen with Shane, Brendon's teeth tearing through his hand, dark corners and terrifying shadows of dreams, the form of a wolf stepping closer as he's sprawled on the floor, Shane's startled face.
The way he'd looked standing on the front porch as Spencer left.
Spencer slides to the floor, back against the side of the bed. He tucks his face into his knees and tries to breathe.
*
"Spence?"
Brendon's voice is tentative, a little wariness tempered with anger, and Spencer nearly hangs up right then. Instead, he clears his throat and mumbles, "Yeah." Clearing his throat again, he says more strongly, "Yeah, it's me."
Spencer swears he can hear Brendon murmur thank god under his breath but it's a second later before he asks, "Where are you?"
Spencer hesitates, but finally answers. "Vegas."
"Oh. I thought. Well, that's not surprising, I guess-"
Spencer interrupts Brendon's rambling, asking without thinking, "What are you?"
"Well, I thought that would be obvious, Spencer. " Brendon’s voice is sharp, brittle. "Freak of nature? There's always the ever-popular 'werewolf'."
"I can hang up right now, Brendon, so don't. Just-Don't."
"Fuck you. You left, ran away without telling anyone-"
"You fucking turned into a wolf, Brendon. What the fuck else was I supposed to do!" Spencer shouts.
"Fine. Fine, whatever. You just. You need to come ho-back. You need to come back as soon as you can." There's an undercurrent of urgency, of need, in Brendon's voice that cuts through Spencer's anger.
"Why? What's wrong?"
Brendon seems hesitant to answer, but finally says, "Shane, uh. Shane could use you-"
Spencer's stomach turns. "Why?" he interrupts. "What's happened?" Brendon doesn't answer and his voice is low and tight when Spencer demands, "Fucking hell, Brendon, tell me what's wrong with Shane."
The anger's returned to Brendon's voice when he finally responds. "I guess you should come home and find out for yourself."
The line goes dead right after that and Spencer throws his phone viciously against the wall with a loud, "Fuck."
*
Amazingly enough, the phone still works. The screen has a spider web of cracks that make it nearly impossible to read, but Spencer picks it up and shoves it in his pocket. He grabs the duffel bag that he'd picked up along the way, shoves the few items of clothing he has into it, and looks around.
The empty bottles of booze are still sitting on the table; one bed is pristine while the other is a tangle of sheets, blankets and pillows. He's been refusing the housekeeping service and the room smells musty and booze-tinged, a hint of desperation hanging in the air. He looks around one last time and in his head he hears Brendon and the way his voice sounded on Shane's name.
He turns and walks out without a second glance.
*
After he pulls into Brendon's driveway, he sits there, staring down at his hands on the wheel. He's pretty sure that if he takes them off, they'll be shaking too bad to be useful. When Spencer finally looks up, it's to find Brendon standing in the doorway, watching him. The look on his face is blank, something that Spencer hates because it usually means that Brendon's scared of something.
Spencer realizes suddenly that Brendon probably is scared to death, scared of how Spencer will react, about what will happen when he gets out of the car. That Brendon is scared of him is so very wrong to Spencer, and it's too ingrained in him after all these years to let that go. Shutting his eyes for a moment, Spencer takes a deep breath and then gets out of the car.
As he gets closer, Spencer can see how tired Brendon looks. Stopping, they stare at each other, until Spencer asks quietly, "Are you going to let me in?"
A muscle in Brendon's jaw jumps and he turns a shoulder. He doesn't really move though, forcing Spencer to slide by him in order to get into the house. His body is taut as a wire as Spencer moves past him, so close that Spencer watches eyelashes shield the look in Brendon's eyes when he drops his gaze. Spencer refuses to give an inch, moving past Brendon and toward the living room.
Shane's slumped back against the couch, eyes shut, chest rising slow and steady when Spencer enters. He clears his throat and Shane's eyes snap open. Something sparks across his face when he catches sight of Spencer, but it's wiped away almost immediately. Spencer feels stupid; he's obviously not the only one that's in this for something more than just fooling around. That's when he notices that Shane looks like absolute shit, looks like Spencer feels.
He makes a beeline for the couch, sitting down as Brendon comes into the room. He reaches out to touch Shane, but hesitates. Hurt flashes across Shane's face and Spencer swallows hard. Turning to Brendon, he demands, "What wrong with him?"
Brendon glares, snapping a sarcastic, "Fine, Brendon, how are you? I’m great-"
"Fuck you," Spencer snarls, halfway off the couch.
Shane puts a hand on his arm, his voice is raspy and low when he says, "Stop it."
Spencer watches guilt flash across Brendon's face before Spencer turns back to Shane. The palm of Shane's hand is cool across the skin of his arm, too cool. Spencer feels helpless and confused, almost to an alarming level, and that's when he realizes that it's not only his feelings. Brendon's scared. Under all the anger at Spencer, Brendon's emotions are twisting inside him, around and around, mixing with Spencer's, until it’s all Spencer can feel.
He looks back to the other side of the room and breathes out Brendon's name. Whatever is on Spencer's face makes Brendon's facade crumble. His mouth twists and fear floods into his eyes.
"I don't know," he babbles. "God knows I’m sick of saying that, but I don't know what's wrong."
Brendon starts pacing the short distance of the living room, glancing over at the two of them on the couch. "Everything was fine-" He laughs sharply. "Well, not fine obviously, but nothing was wrong with him. Not the first day, but the second-"
Looking over at the couch, Spencer watches Brendon’s gaze drop and he looks down himself. His fingers are intertwined with Shane's; he doesn't remember doing it, but he tightens his grip and Shane squeezes back a second later. He looks back up, but Brendon's back to pacing.
"The second day?" He prompts.
Brendon jumps, like Spencer's startled him. Nodding, he continues. "The second day he was just really, really restless. I had to practically drag him off the couch. After that he got weaker, more restless." He looks at Shane, eyes wide, and says so softly Spencer almost doesn't hear, "I could barely wake him up today."
Even if Spencer couldn’t hear the fear and helplessness in his voice, there's enough of it whirling around his chest that he would have known regardless. Shane twitches like he wants to get up and Spencer tightens his grip until Shane makes a small, pained sound. Loosening his grip, Spencer looks over at him.
"This is what happened on tour, isn't it? While we were gone, this is why you looked so sick when we got back." Shane doesn't say anything, just bites his lip as he holds Spencer’s gaze.
Spencer's demanding, "Right?" overlaps with Brendon's startled, "What?"
Shane's definitely not looking at either of them now.
"Is that true?" Brendon asks, stepping toward the couch.
"Yeah," Shane finally answers. He keeps his chin down as he continues. "It didn't happen nearly so fast that time though. I thought I was just getting sick, so I started drinking more orange juice. But it only got worse."
Spencer watches as Shane looks down at their hands. "But you guys came back, Spencer came back and a few days later, it was like that never happened."
Something surges through Brendon and Spencer feels it like a jolt in his chest. He glances over, but Brendon's face is blank.
In the ensuing silence, Spencer finally offers softly, "My nightmares started the second night I was, um, gone."
"I wondered." Shane gives him a small, comforting smile. Spencer can't stop from returning it.
"Nightmares?"
They both turn to look at Brendon. He looks back and forth between the two of them. "What nightmares?"
Spencer sighs heavily and then explains.
*
"Me?" Brendon says, incredulous, when Shane points out that Spencer only has the nightmares when Brendon's not around for an extended period of time.
"But that makes no sense. We're not-We aren’t." He gestures back and forth between Spencer and Shane. He's sitting on the living room table, having collapsed there somewhere in the middle of Spencer's explanation. "You know."
"How could I be the cause of Spencer's nightmares?"
Spencer shrugs and does his best to ignore the spike of some undetermined feeling that he gets. Brendon's emotions are all over the place and it's really starting to wear on him, already exhausted with the last few days.
"They started when you went on vacation and again when you moved out of the house."
Brendon leans forward, frowning. "You never said anything about this. I didn't know-"
"Of course not, Bren." Spencer grimaces. "It's not like I'm blaming you for this. I never told you, even though Shane wanted me to. But you were happy. You and Sarah-"
Brendon's eyes flicker at the mention of Sarah, but before Spencer can continue Shane interjects a quiet, "They stopped."
They both look at him and Shane says, "They stopped after you-After Brendon bit you."
Spencer jerks, startled. He thinks back and Shane's right, for the most part. "Until this week."
"Distance." Shane shrugs. "Time. You haven't been that far apart, not really, even since the tour ended."
"But it all still makes no sense." Brendon repeats voice confused. "Spencer's not a-He's not one of us, why would he be affected by any of this?"
Nobody has an answer for that question.
*
Brendon wanders away into the kitchen, Spencer's eyes following him, and Shane leans into his side and asks in a quiet voice, "You okay? You keep rubbing your chest."
Spencer drops his hand. "Nah, I'm fine." He sends a soft smile to Shane. "How about you?"
"Missed you," Shane mumbles, face coloring a little. He shifts, leaning into Spencer's side and ducking his chin. It makes Spencer grin and he dips his head down, brushing his mouth over Shane's.
"Missed you, too," he whispers. He leans in again, the kiss a little harder, more definite. Shane's mouth opens under his easily and Spencer's sliding his free hand into the soft curls at Shane's nape when he gasps, breaking the kiss. Shane drops his head to Spencer's shoulder and Spencer looks over at Brendon. He's standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching.
Spencer's chest feels tight, and he tips his head, studying Brendon. A moment later, everything blanks out, like Brendon's shut off all his emotions. Spencer frowns at that, but Brendon just moves into room and hands him one of the beers in his hand.
"So what now?" Shane asks as Brendon sits back down in front of them. A giant yawn distorts the end of the questions and Spencer and Brendon look at each other, answering simultaneously, "Sleep."
No one makes a move to get up. Finally Brendon says, "You guys take the bed, okay?"
"Brendon-" Spencer starts, but gets waved off.
"I think it's best if we stick around each other. At least until-" He looks over Shane and finishes quietly, "Until Shane feels better, yeah?"
Spencer watches as the two of them have some sort of silent conversation, until he finally prompts, "Shane?"
There's movement against his shoulder that he takes for affirmation and after a moment, they all stand. Shane stumbles a little and they both reach for him. Brendon laughs, a little embarrassed, and pulls back. He runs a hand over the back of his neck. "Right."
*
Brendon hovers around the door to his room, watching them settle and asking if there's anything they need. Anxiety flutters through Spencer's chest until he finally blurts out, "Christ, Urie, just get in bed!"
He can feel Shane shaking with laughter against his shoulder and Brendon's stuttering through apologies when Shane sits up and says quietly, "Come on."
"Are you sure?" Brendon's face is red as he leans back against the door frame.
"It's not like you weren't doing it while I was gone," Spencer adds.
Brendon looks at him, searching Spencer's face. He finally nods. "Yeah, maybe just for tonight."
*
In the dark, Spencer doesn't need the thing in his chest to tell him that Brendon's tense; he can feel it from across the bed. Finally, Shane rolls over and moves his head close to Brendon's. There's a low murmur of voices, words that Spencer can't quite make out, but a few minutes later, Brendon lets out a deep breath and goes loose.
Shane runs a hand over Brendon's arm, from his shoulder to his fingertips, and Spencer manages to control the shiver that runs through him. Brendon dampens it immediately and Spencer can feel his gaze shift over Shane's shoulder, toward him. It's too dark in the room for Spencer to see clearly, but he's fairly certain both Brendon and Shane's vision is better than his right now.
He puts a hand on Shane's back, down low, and Shane leans into it. Sliding it around, he curls around Shane and presses his face into the back of Shane's neck. He can feel the warmth from Brendon's body across the back of his hand.
"No hanky-panky in my bed, guys. Especially when I'm in it." Brendon's laugh is a little stilted. Spencer can feel the laxness in Shane's body, knows he's on the edge of sleep. It also shows in the slur of his words when Shane mumbles, "Whatever, B. I know you like to watch."
Brendon scoffs but Shane's already drifted off. The two of them lay there in the darkness for a while until Spencer's almost got a headache from how tightly Brendon's reining everything in. He jerks, startled, when Spencer finally says in a quiet voice, "Go to sleep, Brendon." He can feel the pillow move as Brendon nods his head.
"Okay," Brendon whispers. "Okay."
He's still not asleep when Spencer finally succumbs to sleep himself.
*
He's in that half-awake/half-asleep state, ominous shadows creeping in at the edges of his mind, when he feels the bed shift. Somewhere in his subconscious he waits, but that body doesn't return and Spencer eventually tumbles back into blackness.
*
There are horrible things tearing at him, clawing and ripping, and Spencer can't get away. He knows it's a dream, but he can't make his mind believe it. Shane appears in front of him and the shadows start for him. Spencer shouts, but Shane doesn't move. In the real darkness of their room, Shane sleeps on undisturbed, exhaustion from the last few days rendering him practically dead to the world. Spencer knows this in his subconscious, knowsknowsknows Shane's okay. He flails out anyway.
"Shhh," a voice soothes. "You're okay, it's not real." Fingertips brush across his forehead, cool and comforting. "C'mon Spence."
Brendon's voice is quiet in the dark, but Spencer swears it washes over him, around him. His body recognizes comfort, clarity, protection, and he reaches for it. The bed dips behind him with a new weight, and then there's a body at his back. Spencer struggles for consciousness, but warmth surrounds him on both sides and he blinks back into sleep, the darkness kept at bay.
>><<
Shane watches the two of them over the top of his coffee cup. Nobody's talking about the way they woke up, opposite sides of Spencer, wrapped around him. Brendon had stumbled out of bed, looking away from Shane's stare. Distracted by Spencer waking, groaning into the pillow and shifting closer to Shane, Brendon made an escape.
There's a sliver of weariness that still clings to Shane, but he feels a million times better already. He watches Spencer scrambling eggs and knows that the same hold true for him. He waits until they're all at the table, forks in hand and breakfast in front of them, before he says, "I think we need to go back to Seattle."
Spencer's head snaps toward Brendon and he rubs at his chest, the way he'd kept doing last night. Brendon pretends he doesn't notice, looking at Shane and asking, "You think that's a good idea?"
Spencer finally turns his attention away from Brendon, waiting for Shane to respond. He smiles and Shane can't help returning it. He's pretty sure he looks silly. It's confirmed a moment later when Brendon snorts. "Dorks."
"Shut it, Urie," Spencer says, reaching over to steal a sausage link from Brendon's plate. Brendon's startled, "Hey!" gives Shane enough time to reach over and steal the other one.
"Assholes," he grumbles, pouting. A moment later, Spencer sighs and gives it back. Brendon beams and looks at Shane. Shane takes a huge bite and then offers his fork. Brendon grimaces at him and Shane grins, eating the other half. He's definitely feeling better.
When they've finished, Shane picks the plates up and puts them in the dishwasher. He turns around, leaning back against the counter. It’s a familiar tableau.
"Seriously, I think we should go back to Seattle. See if we can find that woman and her-" He hesitates to say it. "Pack." Brendon grimaces and Shane watches the tension creep back into his shoulders. He watches as Spencer reaches out almost immediately, a hand on the back of Brendon's neck. The tension eases and Shane files that away for another time, another discussion.
"Okay," Brendon finally shrugs. Spencer frowns at him, but eventually looks over to Shane and nods.
"It's worth a shot."
*
Brendon's mom is silent after he tells her there are others and that he's going to find them. When he hangs up, his fingers ache with how tight they were wrapped around his phone. The echo of her hesitation, her reluctance, rings in his ears as he heads back to the departure gate.
He catches sight of Shane and something gives in his chest. There's a grin, familiar, and a hand wave. Spencer is right behind him and he's doing that thing, studying Brendon like he's trying to read his mind. It's unsettling, but Spencer's eyes light up as he looks away, laughing at something Shane says to him. Brendon falters to a stop, bites his lip and watches the two of them.
Brendon has no idea what the hell is going on with the three of them, but for the first time in his life, there's possibly some answers waiting. He's not sure if he's going to like what they find, if they find anything at all. But it's Shane and Spencer and at least he's got that going for the whole situation.
Shane waves at him again and Spencer's giving him that 'hurry up, ass' look. He grins, shoving the phone in his pocket and moves forward.
~*~
END, THE FIRST.
Fanmix
Brendon loves Sarah.
He loves her for her sense of humor, for the fact that she can beat him at miniature golf. He loves her for the fact that she loves him unconditionally. She takes the manic days where he can't seem to slow himself down. She takes the nights he doesn't come to bed until the sun's nearly up. He loves that she'll wake him on mornings when the surf is supposed to be fantastic and the she's already called Spencer to 'come get his sorry ass, so get out of bed already'.
Sarah is the closest thing to perfect that Brendon's ever known. She loves him for the person he is. And Brendon loves her, he does, more than any other girl he's known. But he's never told her about what he is, what he carries inside himself. So there's always something he's holding back, that little bit of himself that he can't quite seem to give away. So Brendon loves Sarah, but he's afraid it will never be enough. Not for him and definitely not for her.
She deserves a whole heart, but Brendon is selfish and will take whatever time she's willing to give him.
~*~
The sun is setting and from his vantage point down the street, Spencer watches the lights come on in the Urie household. His cell phone is in his hands and he stops himself from hitting the power button again. It's dead, but he's pressed it half a dozen times since he pulled over. He wants to get out and walk down there, ring the doorbell and demand-he doesn't know, really-answers? They don't know anything, or if they do, they'd decided long ago not to give them to Brendon.
Spencer remembers those days, the circles under Brendon's eyes, the way his shoulders would fall when he was sure nobody was watching. During that time, Spencer had constantly stopped himself from yelling at Brendon's parents. They had this amazing, talented son, and couldn't see the forest for their damn religious trees.
Knowing what he knows now, it puts a whole new spin on everything.
The anger is still there, he notes with surprise. It's tempered now, but still. They're parents, they're supposed to love without condition.
Thinking about parents makes Spencer's mind wander to his own. He's lucky, he knows that, but obviously there's something different about him, too. That lady in Seattle knew it. Brendon knows it. The thing that keeps running around his head, other than the fact that Brendon and Shane turn into fucking wolves, is whether or not it was something that was already inside him or whether that bite from Brendon is the cause.
He looks down. In the fading light, the scar is hard to see, but the skin is smooth when he runs a finger over it.
The shout of a small child startles him and he looks up to find the Urie's have visitors. It looks like Kara. Spencer watches as her youngest runs up the walkway. Spencer can't remember her name, but he knows Brendon has a picture of her in his wallet. It takes tiptoes but she reaches the doorbell and a second later Grace opens the door.
There's another irrational flash of anger. Things are better now between Brendon and his parents, but he's always the one to initiate contact, to call on birthdays. It's not fair. Spencer runs a hand over his face. He should be mad at Brendon, not sitting here thinking that he'd still like to go pound on that door and demand to know what the hell they were thinking.
He should be mad at Brendon and he is, definitely, but somewhere along the long hours on the road, he's had enough time to process why Brendon and Shane would choose to keep something like that from him, from the world in general. He's got a million questions, but he’s not quite ready to face them quite yet.
*
His mom is going to kill him if she finds out that he was home and didn't come to visit, but he's not up to seeing them. She's his mother and entirely too good at knowing when something is wrong and then making him talk about it. He doesn't think Well, Brendon bit me and it turns out he turns into a wolf sometimes and now I can feel his emotions when he's close enough. I'm also involved in a pseudo-relationship with the only other person who knows about Brendon. Oh yeah, he also happens to turn into a wolf occasionally.
Spencer laughs at the thought, the sound a little bitter. There's an unopened phone charger on the bed next to him. He tosses his cell down next to it, picks up the hotel phone and orders a pizza.
The hotel is close to the North Las Vegas Airport, the sound of the casino and planes drowning out a lot of the white noise in Spencer's head. He doesn't want to think about the fact that hopefully it'll cover any screams as well. The nightmares are closer; it's like he can feel them running underneath his skin, ready to claw their way out.
He spends more than a couple of hours down in the casino, hits a small jackpot and loses it an hour later. There's a lady standing near him and she puts a hand on his arm, smiling up at him. For a split second, Spencer's terrified that she's one of them, but she just gives him a sympathetic glance, murmurs better luck next time and moves away.
Spencer sucks in a breath and goes back to the room. He stands under the shower until he stops shaking.
He orders a ridiculously expensive pint of Jack Daniels and proceeds to get thoroughly trashed. When the nightmares wake him up later, he rolls over the side of the bed and barely makes it to the bathroom in time to puke.
*
The charger remains in the package and the only thing that makes the next night different is that Spencer orders tequila instead. He doesn't puke this time, but the headache is twice as bad.
*
By the third night, he's sleeping in fits of forty to fifty minutes.
He finally opens the phone charger.
*
Spencer's lying on his hotel bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He's in the middle of an inane thought about needing to towel-dry his hair more after he gets out of the shower when his phone beeps. He turns his head and looks over it. After a moment, he reaches over and picks it up, pulling the charge cord out and hitting the power button. It takes a moment but the screen finally lights up. The missed call pop-up box blinks into view.
36 Missed Calls. Below that it reads 92 Messages.
He scrolls through the missed calls list. Unsurprisingly, most of them are from the first couple of days. Pete's number shows up the day before and then all of a sudden there’s Ryan’s number. Spencer can feel his eyebrows rise. He thinks about listening to the messages, but doesn’t really want to hear their voices right now.
Instead, he looks at the text messages. It's a similar pattern, a majority of the texts coming in on the first few days and tapering off in the last day or so.
Please pick up your phone
I can explain
Answer your phone dammit
A couple days in, the tone changes. Brendon has never been good with being ignored.
Fucking answer your phone dick
You need to come home
At least call Shane, he needs you
That one makes Spencer pause. It's followed by Brendon's last text, sent nearly 18 hours ago.
fuck you come home
The last text in his phone is from Ryan. I don't know what happened, but if Brendon is calling me then you should probably answer your phone
He's got Ryan's number keyed in with his finger hovering over the call button before he knows it. He doesn't hit the button though, slumping back against the headboard and dropping his hands down into his lap instead. Something's bothering him and it's not until he pulls up the message list again that he figures it out.
There are no messages from Shane.
The missed called log only shows one, the very first missed call. Spencer hits the voicemail and lifts the phone to his ear.
So, um. That happened. Something twists in Spencer's stomach at the sound of Shane's voice. It's kind of stupid, but Spencer realizes in that instant that maybe he hasn't just been fooling around with Shane, that's it's more than having a good time. Fuck. I don't really know, uh, what to say. I'm sorry, I guess? You shouldn't have had to find out like that. We should have told you. Definitely should have told you a long time ago, but hey- there's a little self-deprecating laugh, twisted -I'm not really sure how you go about telling your boyf-ah,your friend-friends-that you can turn into an animal, right? Anyway. The phone hits something and Spencer can hear Shane sigh, picture him running his hand over his face. I know you're-You're probably a little freaked out- There’s a sharp bark in the background. Okay, a lot freaked out right now, but- Shane's voice catches and Spencer swallows hard. Please be careful and call me-call us-when you can.
The automated voice comes on and Spencer hits end before it gets very far.
Fuck.
Fuck.
All of sudden Spencer can't breathe, doubling over gasping for air as it really hits him.
He's spent the last week not thinking about, not really, and it's all coming with a vengeance now, flashing over and over. The woman outside the club, that morning in the kitchen with Shane, Brendon's teeth tearing through his hand, dark corners and terrifying shadows of dreams, the form of a wolf stepping closer as he's sprawled on the floor, Shane's startled face.
The way he'd looked standing on the front porch as Spencer left.
Spencer slides to the floor, back against the side of the bed. He tucks his face into his knees and tries to breathe.
*
"Spence?"
Brendon's voice is tentative, a little wariness tempered with anger, and Spencer nearly hangs up right then. Instead, he clears his throat and mumbles, "Yeah." Clearing his throat again, he says more strongly, "Yeah, it's me."
Spencer swears he can hear Brendon murmur thank god under his breath but it's a second later before he asks, "Where are you?"
Spencer hesitates, but finally answers. "Vegas."
"Oh. I thought. Well, that's not surprising, I guess-"
Spencer interrupts Brendon's rambling, asking without thinking, "What are you?"
"Well, I thought that would be obvious, Spencer. " Brendon’s voice is sharp, brittle. "Freak of nature? There's always the ever-popular 'werewolf'."
"I can hang up right now, Brendon, so don't. Just-Don't."
"Fuck you. You left, ran away without telling anyone-"
"You fucking turned into a wolf, Brendon. What the fuck else was I supposed to do!" Spencer shouts.
"Fine. Fine, whatever. You just. You need to come ho-back. You need to come back as soon as you can." There's an undercurrent of urgency, of need, in Brendon's voice that cuts through Spencer's anger.
"Why? What's wrong?"
Brendon seems hesitant to answer, but finally says, "Shane, uh. Shane could use you-"
Spencer's stomach turns. "Why?" he interrupts. "What's happened?" Brendon doesn't answer and his voice is low and tight when Spencer demands, "Fucking hell, Brendon, tell me what's wrong with Shane."
The anger's returned to Brendon's voice when he finally responds. "I guess you should come home and find out for yourself."
The line goes dead right after that and Spencer throws his phone viciously against the wall with a loud, "Fuck."
*
Amazingly enough, the phone still works. The screen has a spider web of cracks that make it nearly impossible to read, but Spencer picks it up and shoves it in his pocket. He grabs the duffel bag that he'd picked up along the way, shoves the few items of clothing he has into it, and looks around.
The empty bottles of booze are still sitting on the table; one bed is pristine while the other is a tangle of sheets, blankets and pillows. He's been refusing the housekeeping service and the room smells musty and booze-tinged, a hint of desperation hanging in the air. He looks around one last time and in his head he hears Brendon and the way his voice sounded on Shane's name.
He turns and walks out without a second glance.
*
After he pulls into Brendon's driveway, he sits there, staring down at his hands on the wheel. He's pretty sure that if he takes them off, they'll be shaking too bad to be useful. When Spencer finally looks up, it's to find Brendon standing in the doorway, watching him. The look on his face is blank, something that Spencer hates because it usually means that Brendon's scared of something.
Spencer realizes suddenly that Brendon probably is scared to death, scared of how Spencer will react, about what will happen when he gets out of the car. That Brendon is scared of him is so very wrong to Spencer, and it's too ingrained in him after all these years to let that go. Shutting his eyes for a moment, Spencer takes a deep breath and then gets out of the car.
As he gets closer, Spencer can see how tired Brendon looks. Stopping, they stare at each other, until Spencer asks quietly, "Are you going to let me in?"
A muscle in Brendon's jaw jumps and he turns a shoulder. He doesn't really move though, forcing Spencer to slide by him in order to get into the house. His body is taut as a wire as Spencer moves past him, so close that Spencer watches eyelashes shield the look in Brendon's eyes when he drops his gaze. Spencer refuses to give an inch, moving past Brendon and toward the living room.
Shane's slumped back against the couch, eyes shut, chest rising slow and steady when Spencer enters. He clears his throat and Shane's eyes snap open. Something sparks across his face when he catches sight of Spencer, but it's wiped away almost immediately. Spencer feels stupid; he's obviously not the only one that's in this for something more than just fooling around. That's when he notices that Shane looks like absolute shit, looks like Spencer feels.
He makes a beeline for the couch, sitting down as Brendon comes into the room. He reaches out to touch Shane, but hesitates. Hurt flashes across Shane's face and Spencer swallows hard. Turning to Brendon, he demands, "What wrong with him?"
Brendon glares, snapping a sarcastic, "Fine, Brendon, how are you? I’m great-"
"Fuck you," Spencer snarls, halfway off the couch.
Shane puts a hand on his arm, his voice is raspy and low when he says, "Stop it."
Spencer watches guilt flash across Brendon's face before Spencer turns back to Shane. The palm of Shane's hand is cool across the skin of his arm, too cool. Spencer feels helpless and confused, almost to an alarming level, and that's when he realizes that it's not only his feelings. Brendon's scared. Under all the anger at Spencer, Brendon's emotions are twisting inside him, around and around, mixing with Spencer's, until it’s all Spencer can feel.
He looks back to the other side of the room and breathes out Brendon's name. Whatever is on Spencer's face makes Brendon's facade crumble. His mouth twists and fear floods into his eyes.
"I don't know," he babbles. "God knows I’m sick of saying that, but I don't know what's wrong."
Brendon starts pacing the short distance of the living room, glancing over at the two of them on the couch. "Everything was fine-" He laughs sharply. "Well, not fine obviously, but nothing was wrong with him. Not the first day, but the second-"
Looking over at the couch, Spencer watches Brendon’s gaze drop and he looks down himself. His fingers are intertwined with Shane's; he doesn't remember doing it, but he tightens his grip and Shane squeezes back a second later. He looks back up, but Brendon's back to pacing.
"The second day?" He prompts.
Brendon jumps, like Spencer's startled him. Nodding, he continues. "The second day he was just really, really restless. I had to practically drag him off the couch. After that he got weaker, more restless." He looks at Shane, eyes wide, and says so softly Spencer almost doesn't hear, "I could barely wake him up today."
Even if Spencer couldn’t hear the fear and helplessness in his voice, there's enough of it whirling around his chest that he would have known regardless. Shane twitches like he wants to get up and Spencer tightens his grip until Shane makes a small, pained sound. Loosening his grip, Spencer looks over at him.
"This is what happened on tour, isn't it? While we were gone, this is why you looked so sick when we got back." Shane doesn't say anything, just bites his lip as he holds Spencer’s gaze.
Spencer's demanding, "Right?" overlaps with Brendon's startled, "What?"
Shane's definitely not looking at either of them now.
"Is that true?" Brendon asks, stepping toward the couch.
"Yeah," Shane finally answers. He keeps his chin down as he continues. "It didn't happen nearly so fast that time though. I thought I was just getting sick, so I started drinking more orange juice. But it only got worse."
Spencer watches as Shane looks down at their hands. "But you guys came back, Spencer came back and a few days later, it was like that never happened."
Something surges through Brendon and Spencer feels it like a jolt in his chest. He glances over, but Brendon's face is blank.
In the ensuing silence, Spencer finally offers softly, "My nightmares started the second night I was, um, gone."
"I wondered." Shane gives him a small, comforting smile. Spencer can't stop from returning it.
"Nightmares?"
They both turn to look at Brendon. He looks back and forth between the two of them. "What nightmares?"
Spencer sighs heavily and then explains.
*
"Me?" Brendon says, incredulous, when Shane points out that Spencer only has the nightmares when Brendon's not around for an extended period of time.
"But that makes no sense. We're not-We aren’t." He gestures back and forth between Spencer and Shane. He's sitting on the living room table, having collapsed there somewhere in the middle of Spencer's explanation. "You know."
"How could I be the cause of Spencer's nightmares?"
Spencer shrugs and does his best to ignore the spike of some undetermined feeling that he gets. Brendon's emotions are all over the place and it's really starting to wear on him, already exhausted with the last few days.
"They started when you went on vacation and again when you moved out of the house."
Brendon leans forward, frowning. "You never said anything about this. I didn't know-"
"Of course not, Bren." Spencer grimaces. "It's not like I'm blaming you for this. I never told you, even though Shane wanted me to. But you were happy. You and Sarah-"
Brendon's eyes flicker at the mention of Sarah, but before Spencer can continue Shane interjects a quiet, "They stopped."
They both look at him and Shane says, "They stopped after you-After Brendon bit you."
Spencer jerks, startled. He thinks back and Shane's right, for the most part. "Until this week."
"Distance." Shane shrugs. "Time. You haven't been that far apart, not really, even since the tour ended."
"But it all still makes no sense." Brendon repeats voice confused. "Spencer's not a-He's not one of us, why would he be affected by any of this?"
Nobody has an answer for that question.
*
Brendon wanders away into the kitchen, Spencer's eyes following him, and Shane leans into his side and asks in a quiet voice, "You okay? You keep rubbing your chest."
Spencer drops his hand. "Nah, I'm fine." He sends a soft smile to Shane. "How about you?"
"Missed you," Shane mumbles, face coloring a little. He shifts, leaning into Spencer's side and ducking his chin. It makes Spencer grin and he dips his head down, brushing his mouth over Shane's.
"Missed you, too," he whispers. He leans in again, the kiss a little harder, more definite. Shane's mouth opens under his easily and Spencer's sliding his free hand into the soft curls at Shane's nape when he gasps, breaking the kiss. Shane drops his head to Spencer's shoulder and Spencer looks over at Brendon. He's standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching.
Spencer's chest feels tight, and he tips his head, studying Brendon. A moment later, everything blanks out, like Brendon's shut off all his emotions. Spencer frowns at that, but Brendon just moves into room and hands him one of the beers in his hand.
"So what now?" Shane asks as Brendon sits back down in front of them. A giant yawn distorts the end of the questions and Spencer and Brendon look at each other, answering simultaneously, "Sleep."
No one makes a move to get up. Finally Brendon says, "You guys take the bed, okay?"
"Brendon-" Spencer starts, but gets waved off.
"I think it's best if we stick around each other. At least until-" He looks over Shane and finishes quietly, "Until Shane feels better, yeah?"
Spencer watches as the two of them have some sort of silent conversation, until he finally prompts, "Shane?"
There's movement against his shoulder that he takes for affirmation and after a moment, they all stand. Shane stumbles a little and they both reach for him. Brendon laughs, a little embarrassed, and pulls back. He runs a hand over the back of his neck. "Right."
*
Brendon hovers around the door to his room, watching them settle and asking if there's anything they need. Anxiety flutters through Spencer's chest until he finally blurts out, "Christ, Urie, just get in bed!"
He can feel Shane shaking with laughter against his shoulder and Brendon's stuttering through apologies when Shane sits up and says quietly, "Come on."
"Are you sure?" Brendon's face is red as he leans back against the door frame.
"It's not like you weren't doing it while I was gone," Spencer adds.
Brendon looks at him, searching Spencer's face. He finally nods. "Yeah, maybe just for tonight."
*
In the dark, Spencer doesn't need the thing in his chest to tell him that Brendon's tense; he can feel it from across the bed. Finally, Shane rolls over and moves his head close to Brendon's. There's a low murmur of voices, words that Spencer can't quite make out, but a few minutes later, Brendon lets out a deep breath and goes loose.
Shane runs a hand over Brendon's arm, from his shoulder to his fingertips, and Spencer manages to control the shiver that runs through him. Brendon dampens it immediately and Spencer can feel his gaze shift over Shane's shoulder, toward him. It's too dark in the room for Spencer to see clearly, but he's fairly certain both Brendon and Shane's vision is better than his right now.
He puts a hand on Shane's back, down low, and Shane leans into it. Sliding it around, he curls around Shane and presses his face into the back of Shane's neck. He can feel the warmth from Brendon's body across the back of his hand.
"No hanky-panky in my bed, guys. Especially when I'm in it." Brendon's laugh is a little stilted. Spencer can feel the laxness in Shane's body, knows he's on the edge of sleep. It also shows in the slur of his words when Shane mumbles, "Whatever, B. I know you like to watch."
Brendon scoffs but Shane's already drifted off. The two of them lay there in the darkness for a while until Spencer's almost got a headache from how tightly Brendon's reining everything in. He jerks, startled, when Spencer finally says in a quiet voice, "Go to sleep, Brendon." He can feel the pillow move as Brendon nods his head.
"Okay," Brendon whispers. "Okay."
He's still not asleep when Spencer finally succumbs to sleep himself.
*
He's in that half-awake/half-asleep state, ominous shadows creeping in at the edges of his mind, when he feels the bed shift. Somewhere in his subconscious he waits, but that body doesn't return and Spencer eventually tumbles back into blackness.
*
There are horrible things tearing at him, clawing and ripping, and Spencer can't get away. He knows it's a dream, but he can't make his mind believe it. Shane appears in front of him and the shadows start for him. Spencer shouts, but Shane doesn't move. In the real darkness of their room, Shane sleeps on undisturbed, exhaustion from the last few days rendering him practically dead to the world. Spencer knows this in his subconscious, knowsknowsknows Shane's okay. He flails out anyway.
"Shhh," a voice soothes. "You're okay, it's not real." Fingertips brush across his forehead, cool and comforting. "C'mon Spence."
Brendon's voice is quiet in the dark, but Spencer swears it washes over him, around him. His body recognizes comfort, clarity, protection, and he reaches for it. The bed dips behind him with a new weight, and then there's a body at his back. Spencer struggles for consciousness, but warmth surrounds him on both sides and he blinks back into sleep, the darkness kept at bay.
>><<
Shane watches the two of them over the top of his coffee cup. Nobody's talking about the way they woke up, opposite sides of Spencer, wrapped around him. Brendon had stumbled out of bed, looking away from Shane's stare. Distracted by Spencer waking, groaning into the pillow and shifting closer to Shane, Brendon made an escape.
There's a sliver of weariness that still clings to Shane, but he feels a million times better already. He watches Spencer scrambling eggs and knows that the same hold true for him. He waits until they're all at the table, forks in hand and breakfast in front of them, before he says, "I think we need to go back to Seattle."
Spencer's head snaps toward Brendon and he rubs at his chest, the way he'd kept doing last night. Brendon pretends he doesn't notice, looking at Shane and asking, "You think that's a good idea?"
Spencer finally turns his attention away from Brendon, waiting for Shane to respond. He smiles and Shane can't help returning it. He's pretty sure he looks silly. It's confirmed a moment later when Brendon snorts. "Dorks."
"Shut it, Urie," Spencer says, reaching over to steal a sausage link from Brendon's plate. Brendon's startled, "Hey!" gives Shane enough time to reach over and steal the other one.
"Assholes," he grumbles, pouting. A moment later, Spencer sighs and gives it back. Brendon beams and looks at Shane. Shane takes a huge bite and then offers his fork. Brendon grimaces at him and Shane grins, eating the other half. He's definitely feeling better.
When they've finished, Shane picks the plates up and puts them in the dishwasher. He turns around, leaning back against the counter. It’s a familiar tableau.
"Seriously, I think we should go back to Seattle. See if we can find that woman and her-" He hesitates to say it. "Pack." Brendon grimaces and Shane watches the tension creep back into his shoulders. He watches as Spencer reaches out almost immediately, a hand on the back of Brendon's neck. The tension eases and Shane files that away for another time, another discussion.
"Okay," Brendon finally shrugs. Spencer frowns at him, but eventually looks over to Shane and nods.
"It's worth a shot."
*
Brendon's mom is silent after he tells her there are others and that he's going to find them. When he hangs up, his fingers ache with how tight they were wrapped around his phone. The echo of her hesitation, her reluctance, rings in his ears as he heads back to the departure gate.
He catches sight of Shane and something gives in his chest. There's a grin, familiar, and a hand wave. Spencer is right behind him and he's doing that thing, studying Brendon like he's trying to read his mind. It's unsettling, but Spencer's eyes light up as he looks away, laughing at something Shane says to him. Brendon falters to a stop, bites his lip and watches the two of them.
Brendon has no idea what the hell is going on with the three of them, but for the first time in his life, there's possibly some answers waiting. He's not sure if he's going to like what they find, if they find anything at all. But it's Shane and Spencer and at least he's got that going for the whole situation.
Shane waves at him again and Spencer's giving him that 'hurry up, ass' look. He grins, shoving the phone in his pocket and moves forward.
~*~
END, THE FIRST.
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