Fic: You're a Regular Decorated Emergency - Chapter 7
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Ryan/Brendon
POV: First (Brendon's)
Summary: They were the outcasts of their school. The list started out as something innocent. Then Ryan wanted to get revenge in the only way he knew possible and he's dragging Brendon along for the ride.
Author's Note: Loosely based on the book Hate List by Jennifer Brown. (By loosely, I do mean very loosely. Also going to include a trigger warning in general right now (Self harm, alcoholism, bullying, violence, and several other things that may arise.)) Basically, don't read if you're going to be easily affected.
Disclaimer: Complete work of fiction. I don't own the characters. I'm only responsible for the plot line.
Ryan continues to drive heading in the direction of my house. I’m about to tell him we can’t go there when he takes a right and speeds down a back road I don’t think I’ve ever been on. He stops outside an old, abandoned looking house and gets out. I watch him walk around front of the car and wait on the curb for me to join him. I sigh, unbuckling and slide out, meeting him on the sunbaked grass. I glance up at the old house.
“What is this place?” I ask Ryan quietly, looking back at him. He shrugs.
“Just a place I used to come to get away from home when I was little. It’s been abandoned for years.” He walks up the cracked sidewalk to a set of steps that look as if they could give out at any moment. I follow him close behind, treading carefully as to not put my foot through the rotting wood of the porch. He pushes open the creaking door and we both enter the black hallway, the only light spilling in from behind us.
“Hang on,” Ryan says as I go to shut the door behind us. He moves over to a small, sheet covered table against the foyer wall and messes with something I can’t see. Soon the entryway is filled with a golden glow and I notice the oil lamp that he just lit. He turns around and shrugs, “There’s no power in here… I had to improvise whenever I’d come.”
I nod and shut the door behind me, leaving the lamp to be our only source of light. Ryan picks it up, walking further down the hall and I move quickly to catch up so I don’t have to be left behind in the dark. He leads me to a room off the right side of the long hall and as the light flushes over it, I notice several pieces of furniture covered in various sheets. I move towards a lumpy sofa covered in a pale blue sheet and sit down, pulling my knees up to my chest.
Ryan walks over and sits close to me, leaning his head onto my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m so sorry, Bren. I don’t want it to have to be like this, but it does…” He trails off, not exactly giving a reason as to why it has to be this way and I’m too drained to press the matter. He grabs my hand, playing with my fingers and I watch him before directing my attention to examining the room. I imagine a younger Ryan running here in the middle of the night to escape various things about his home life and sitting in the semi-dark with only the light of an old, cracked oil lamp to keep him company.
I sigh and stare down at mine and Ryan’s hands again. “Ry,” I breathe out. “I can’t do this anymore. I think we should stop with the list.” I feel the weight of Ryan’s head leave my shoulder and I can tell he’s looking at me. I look up, but refuse to meet his gaze and stare at the wall.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Brendon?” He spits out, dropping my hand. “You just want to stop? We can’t just fucking stop! We’ve already killed two people! Why the fuck should we stop?” He jumps up and stands in front of me, but I continue to focus on the wall not wanting to see the anger that I know is in his eyes.
“I just,” I murmur. “I just can’t handle this. I never wanted this to be what the list was about, Ryan. I mean, I know they fucked us over, but killing them? Can’t we just, ignore it for the last few months of high school? Then we’ll be done and won’t have to worry about it…” I trail off having looked up and caught Ryan’s gaze. This clearly was not going to go over well.
“Yeah,” Ryan says, sarcasm dripping in his voice. “Yeah, let’s just stop doing this. Then maybe we can waltz downtown and fucking tell the police what happened to Gabe and Pete. And I’m sure then they’ll let us off and we just go have a fucking tea party with the rest of the school and laugh this whole fucking thing off, right?!” I curl my knees back up to my chest and watch as he paces back and forth in front of me.
He throws his hands up and stops pacing, “Brendon we can’t just fucking quit! They fucked us over! They deserve this and even more! We have to make them pay! Make them pay for thinking we aren’t worth shit! That we aren’t gonna make it! They’ve been treating us like we are beneath them for fucking years and you just wanna sit back and let them continue?!” He picks up an old glass picture frame from an end table and throws it against the wall where it shatters.
“You wanna be walked on for the rest of your life?! Well I don’t! We have to show them that they fucked with the wrong people, that we are capable of something! I’ve dealt with this shit since elementary school! They fucking drove me to carving my fucking issues into my own skin, for fucks sake!” He brushes his hand over his arm where I know there are still faint lines of scars from his past. The same scars I’ve traced absentmindedly while lying next to him.
“And your family!” he screams. “They think they’re so much better than you! What will they do when they find out you’re gay? Do you really think they’ll be okay with it?! Jesus Christ, Brendon, they already told you they don’t want you hanging out with me, what makes you think they’ll approve of us dating?! No one is ever going to stick up for us if we don’t do it ourselves! We have to fucking do this, Brendon! You don’t understand, we have no other choice!”
I watch with wide eyes as he collapses to the floor, sobbing hysterically and still trying to scream out reasons why. I move down from the couch and crawl over to him, pulling him to my chest.
“Shhh,” I murmur. “It’s okay, Ry… I’m here…” I rub his back as he sobs into my chest. I rock him back and forth a little and press light kisses to the top of his head. “I’ll help, Ryan,” I sigh, and he looks up at me with red, tear-filled eyes. “I’ll help you with the list… You’re right… We can’t let them do this to us anymore. We have to stand up for ourselves…”
He looks at me for a few seconds before burying his face in my shirt again. “Thank you,” he says softly. I nod and rub his back until he sniffs and pulls away from me, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry about your shirt,” he mumbles gesturing to my chest. I look down and see a large wet spot and shrug. I’ve done the same to plenty of his shirts.
Ryan stands up and holds his hand out to me. I grasp it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. We brush the dust off of us and I glance around really quick, noticing what looks to be a piano in the corner with a sheet covering only half of it. I walk over to it and sit down, the bench squeaking out a protest under me. I lift the cover and run my fingers over the keys lightly before pressing down in a d-chord. It’s a little out of tune, but not too bad for being in an abandoned house for who knows how long. I play the chord again, quickly switching to a g-minor chord. I let the chords flow into one another as I feel Ryan take a seat next to me, the bench protesting even more.
Ryan watches me as my fingers flow over the keys constructing a random array of chords and notes that distantly reminds me of something you’d hear in a Disney movie. I bring the short piece to a close with a drawn out c-major that echoes off of the old walls. As it fades out, I turn to face Ryan and he’s smiling widely at me.
“You need to play music more often, Bren,” he says pressing his lips to mine lightly. “That was so beautiful.” I smile back, feeling my cheeks heat up. I had never played for him before. He knew I took lessons as a kid but I don’t think he knew I could even still play. He presses our lips together again, and I’m quick to press back. He pulls away grabbing my hand from where it still sat on the keys and squeezes it. “You should teach me sometime,” he says gesturing towards the piano.
“Okay,” I say smiling. “Someday when we have loads of time, I will.” He grins wider, his eyes almost shining and I can’t help but think that this is the Ryan I miss most. The one I had first met and fallen for.
Ryan stands up and tugs my hand, pulling me up with him. “What time is it?” he asks. I pull out my phone and check. 3 o’clock.
“3. I still have an hour until I’d be expected to come home. Wanna go get something to eat?” I see Ryan hesitate a little as he knows that I’ll be the one paying, no matter what he says. After considering it a moment, he nods and tugs me towards the door. He opens the front door, shedding more light into the hall and extinguishes the old oil lamp.
We walk out to his car, hands swinging between us when all of a sudden he stops. I follow his gaze and see Spencer and Jon leaning against Ryan’s car. Spencer has his arm around Jon’s shoulders protectively and neither one of them looks like they’re in a pleasant mood.
“Hey guys,” Ryan calls, falling back into step and dragging me along. “What’s going on? You ditch too?” He smiles, but neither of them returns it.
“Ryan,” Spencer sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. “You’re my best friend. Tell me what the fuck is going on.” He drops his hand, his ice blue eyes staring Ryan down. I feel Ryan shift a little and I glance over at him. He’s clearly calculating whether or not he should tell the truth or come up with a lie.
I decide it’s my time to jump in again today. “We had to skip today. Ryan didn’t want to get in trouble for the thing with Brent earlier, and well I didn’t want him to be alone so I went with. It’s nothing really.” I give a small shrug, but both Jon and Spencer give me skeptical looks.
“Seriously, guys,” Jon says glancing between us both. “Tell us what’s going on. We’re all best friends. We shouldn’t have secrets.”
Ryan sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “Just,” he begins, trailing off a little. “Don’t jump to drastic conclusions. But we just have some ideas on how to get people back. Like we talked about before. That’s it.” I withhold a cringe. There he goes with the lying. I mean, he isn’t lying to me right now, but to his best friend. Who I know means as much to him as I do. And Jon, my best friend… Does it count as lying if I don’t say anything? If I just let Ryan continue to lie for me? What would Jon and Spencer even say if we told them the truth? Would they turn us in? Want to help us? No one really gave them shit for being gay, but then again, they aren’t as open about it as me and Ryan are. Smart thinking on their part.
Spencer narrows his eyes at Ryan, glancing at me and I know he realizes I’m not saying anything for Ryan’s sake. “Whatever, Ryan,” he finally says. “When you want to tell me, I’ll be here. Until then, pretend what you want, but all four of us know damn well that there is something bigger going on here. Saporta and Wentz didn’t show up for school today and everyone’s looking for them. And for some reason, I have a feeling you know why. I’m not going to force you to tell me what’s going on, but it’d be a hell of a lot easier if you did.” He gives Ryan another heavy glance before pulling Jon along the curb and back down the street to Spencer’s car.
Ryan sighs again and kicks the bumper of his car. “Shit,” He mutters under his breath, kicking the metal again. I grab his arm and rub it softly, and he stops, looking up at me. “Let’s go eat,” he says, walking around to the driver’s side as I slide in the passenger seat.
As we drive through town I can’t help but think of how everyone is already looking for Pete and Gabe. How? It’d been a day…. If we were going to do all of this, we were going to need something bigger. Some better way of getting rid of everyone at once…
As if reading my mind, Ryan speaks up. “We need something more efficient than one person a day. I have an idea, but we’re gonna have to make a pit stop before we go to eat.” With that, he flips on his blinker and turns down a road leading to the shady part of Vegas. I had a very strong feeling where we were heading.
Chapter 8
A/N: here's the cover picture I came up with for this fic so yeah...
Pairings: Ryan/Brendon
POV: First (Brendon's)
Summary: They were the outcasts of their school. The list started out as something innocent. Then Ryan wanted to get revenge in the only way he knew possible and he's dragging Brendon along for the ride.
Author's Note: Loosely based on the book Hate List by Jennifer Brown. (By loosely, I do mean very loosely. Also going to include a trigger warning in general right now (Self harm, alcoholism, bullying, violence, and several other things that may arise.)) Basically, don't read if you're going to be easily affected.
Disclaimer: Complete work of fiction. I don't own the characters. I'm only responsible for the plot line.
Ryan continues to drive heading in the direction of my house. I’m about to tell him we can’t go there when he takes a right and speeds down a back road I don’t think I’ve ever been on. He stops outside an old, abandoned looking house and gets out. I watch him walk around front of the car and wait on the curb for me to join him. I sigh, unbuckling and slide out, meeting him on the sunbaked grass. I glance up at the old house.
“What is this place?” I ask Ryan quietly, looking back at him. He shrugs.
“Just a place I used to come to get away from home when I was little. It’s been abandoned for years.” He walks up the cracked sidewalk to a set of steps that look as if they could give out at any moment. I follow him close behind, treading carefully as to not put my foot through the rotting wood of the porch. He pushes open the creaking door and we both enter the black hallway, the only light spilling in from behind us.
“Hang on,” Ryan says as I go to shut the door behind us. He moves over to a small, sheet covered table against the foyer wall and messes with something I can’t see. Soon the entryway is filled with a golden glow and I notice the oil lamp that he just lit. He turns around and shrugs, “There’s no power in here… I had to improvise whenever I’d come.”
I nod and shut the door behind me, leaving the lamp to be our only source of light. Ryan picks it up, walking further down the hall and I move quickly to catch up so I don’t have to be left behind in the dark. He leads me to a room off the right side of the long hall and as the light flushes over it, I notice several pieces of furniture covered in various sheets. I move towards a lumpy sofa covered in a pale blue sheet and sit down, pulling my knees up to my chest.
Ryan walks over and sits close to me, leaning his head onto my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m so sorry, Bren. I don’t want it to have to be like this, but it does…” He trails off, not exactly giving a reason as to why it has to be this way and I’m too drained to press the matter. He grabs my hand, playing with my fingers and I watch him before directing my attention to examining the room. I imagine a younger Ryan running here in the middle of the night to escape various things about his home life and sitting in the semi-dark with only the light of an old, cracked oil lamp to keep him company.
I sigh and stare down at mine and Ryan’s hands again. “Ry,” I breathe out. “I can’t do this anymore. I think we should stop with the list.” I feel the weight of Ryan’s head leave my shoulder and I can tell he’s looking at me. I look up, but refuse to meet his gaze and stare at the wall.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Brendon?” He spits out, dropping my hand. “You just want to stop? We can’t just fucking stop! We’ve already killed two people! Why the fuck should we stop?” He jumps up and stands in front of me, but I continue to focus on the wall not wanting to see the anger that I know is in his eyes.
“I just,” I murmur. “I just can’t handle this. I never wanted this to be what the list was about, Ryan. I mean, I know they fucked us over, but killing them? Can’t we just, ignore it for the last few months of high school? Then we’ll be done and won’t have to worry about it…” I trail off having looked up and caught Ryan’s gaze. This clearly was not going to go over well.
“Yeah,” Ryan says, sarcasm dripping in his voice. “Yeah, let’s just stop doing this. Then maybe we can waltz downtown and fucking tell the police what happened to Gabe and Pete. And I’m sure then they’ll let us off and we just go have a fucking tea party with the rest of the school and laugh this whole fucking thing off, right?!” I curl my knees back up to my chest and watch as he paces back and forth in front of me.
He throws his hands up and stops pacing, “Brendon we can’t just fucking quit! They fucked us over! They deserve this and even more! We have to make them pay! Make them pay for thinking we aren’t worth shit! That we aren’t gonna make it! They’ve been treating us like we are beneath them for fucking years and you just wanna sit back and let them continue?!” He picks up an old glass picture frame from an end table and throws it against the wall where it shatters.
“You wanna be walked on for the rest of your life?! Well I don’t! We have to show them that they fucked with the wrong people, that we are capable of something! I’ve dealt with this shit since elementary school! They fucking drove me to carving my fucking issues into my own skin, for fucks sake!” He brushes his hand over his arm where I know there are still faint lines of scars from his past. The same scars I’ve traced absentmindedly while lying next to him.
“And your family!” he screams. “They think they’re so much better than you! What will they do when they find out you’re gay? Do you really think they’ll be okay with it?! Jesus Christ, Brendon, they already told you they don’t want you hanging out with me, what makes you think they’ll approve of us dating?! No one is ever going to stick up for us if we don’t do it ourselves! We have to fucking do this, Brendon! You don’t understand, we have no other choice!”
I watch with wide eyes as he collapses to the floor, sobbing hysterically and still trying to scream out reasons why. I move down from the couch and crawl over to him, pulling him to my chest.
“Shhh,” I murmur. “It’s okay, Ry… I’m here…” I rub his back as he sobs into my chest. I rock him back and forth a little and press light kisses to the top of his head. “I’ll help, Ryan,” I sigh, and he looks up at me with red, tear-filled eyes. “I’ll help you with the list… You’re right… We can’t let them do this to us anymore. We have to stand up for ourselves…”
He looks at me for a few seconds before burying his face in my shirt again. “Thank you,” he says softly. I nod and rub his back until he sniffs and pulls away from me, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry about your shirt,” he mumbles gesturing to my chest. I look down and see a large wet spot and shrug. I’ve done the same to plenty of his shirts.
Ryan stands up and holds his hand out to me. I grasp it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. We brush the dust off of us and I glance around really quick, noticing what looks to be a piano in the corner with a sheet covering only half of it. I walk over to it and sit down, the bench squeaking out a protest under me. I lift the cover and run my fingers over the keys lightly before pressing down in a d-chord. It’s a little out of tune, but not too bad for being in an abandoned house for who knows how long. I play the chord again, quickly switching to a g-minor chord. I let the chords flow into one another as I feel Ryan take a seat next to me, the bench protesting even more.
Ryan watches me as my fingers flow over the keys constructing a random array of chords and notes that distantly reminds me of something you’d hear in a Disney movie. I bring the short piece to a close with a drawn out c-major that echoes off of the old walls. As it fades out, I turn to face Ryan and he’s smiling widely at me.
“You need to play music more often, Bren,” he says pressing his lips to mine lightly. “That was so beautiful.” I smile back, feeling my cheeks heat up. I had never played for him before. He knew I took lessons as a kid but I don’t think he knew I could even still play. He presses our lips together again, and I’m quick to press back. He pulls away grabbing my hand from where it still sat on the keys and squeezes it. “You should teach me sometime,” he says gesturing towards the piano.
“Okay,” I say smiling. “Someday when we have loads of time, I will.” He grins wider, his eyes almost shining and I can’t help but think that this is the Ryan I miss most. The one I had first met and fallen for.
Ryan stands up and tugs my hand, pulling me up with him. “What time is it?” he asks. I pull out my phone and check. 3 o’clock.
“3. I still have an hour until I’d be expected to come home. Wanna go get something to eat?” I see Ryan hesitate a little as he knows that I’ll be the one paying, no matter what he says. After considering it a moment, he nods and tugs me towards the door. He opens the front door, shedding more light into the hall and extinguishes the old oil lamp.
We walk out to his car, hands swinging between us when all of a sudden he stops. I follow his gaze and see Spencer and Jon leaning against Ryan’s car. Spencer has his arm around Jon’s shoulders protectively and neither one of them looks like they’re in a pleasant mood.
“Hey guys,” Ryan calls, falling back into step and dragging me along. “What’s going on? You ditch too?” He smiles, but neither of them returns it.
“Ryan,” Spencer sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. “You’re my best friend. Tell me what the fuck is going on.” He drops his hand, his ice blue eyes staring Ryan down. I feel Ryan shift a little and I glance over at him. He’s clearly calculating whether or not he should tell the truth or come up with a lie.
I decide it’s my time to jump in again today. “We had to skip today. Ryan didn’t want to get in trouble for the thing with Brent earlier, and well I didn’t want him to be alone so I went with. It’s nothing really.” I give a small shrug, but both Jon and Spencer give me skeptical looks.
“Seriously, guys,” Jon says glancing between us both. “Tell us what’s going on. We’re all best friends. We shouldn’t have secrets.”
Ryan sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “Just,” he begins, trailing off a little. “Don’t jump to drastic conclusions. But we just have some ideas on how to get people back. Like we talked about before. That’s it.” I withhold a cringe. There he goes with the lying. I mean, he isn’t lying to me right now, but to his best friend. Who I know means as much to him as I do. And Jon, my best friend… Does it count as lying if I don’t say anything? If I just let Ryan continue to lie for me? What would Jon and Spencer even say if we told them the truth? Would they turn us in? Want to help us? No one really gave them shit for being gay, but then again, they aren’t as open about it as me and Ryan are. Smart thinking on their part.
Spencer narrows his eyes at Ryan, glancing at me and I know he realizes I’m not saying anything for Ryan’s sake. “Whatever, Ryan,” he finally says. “When you want to tell me, I’ll be here. Until then, pretend what you want, but all four of us know damn well that there is something bigger going on here. Saporta and Wentz didn’t show up for school today and everyone’s looking for them. And for some reason, I have a feeling you know why. I’m not going to force you to tell me what’s going on, but it’d be a hell of a lot easier if you did.” He gives Ryan another heavy glance before pulling Jon along the curb and back down the street to Spencer’s car.
Ryan sighs again and kicks the bumper of his car. “Shit,” He mutters under his breath, kicking the metal again. I grab his arm and rub it softly, and he stops, looking up at me. “Let’s go eat,” he says, walking around to the driver’s side as I slide in the passenger seat.
As we drive through town I can’t help but think of how everyone is already looking for Pete and Gabe. How? It’d been a day…. If we were going to do all of this, we were going to need something bigger. Some better way of getting rid of everyone at once…
As if reading my mind, Ryan speaks up. “We need something more efficient than one person a day. I have an idea, but we’re gonna have to make a pit stop before we go to eat.” With that, he flips on his blinker and turns down a road leading to the shady part of Vegas. I had a very strong feeling where we were heading.
Chapter 8
A/N: here's the cover picture I came up with for this fic so yeah...