Catching the Rain [11]
Title: Catching the Rain
Author: xstockpiledmmrs
Rating: R [For a bit of self-harm]
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: Third, Ryan-centric
Disclaimer: Not true
Summary: “Leave me alone. Everything has to be perfect!”
Author's Notes: Don’t hate me for this chapter, mmkay? :D I swear, it gets better. And by the way, I’m looking for like.. a full-out beta, who is basically amazing at it. So just leave a comment, and we’ll chit-chat about it.
Previous: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
CATCHING THE RAIN
1:01 P.M.
“Ryan? Ryan, baby, where are you? Ry-Oh, Ryan.”
Ryan sniffled from where he sat in the bathroom, huddled in the corner, staring down at the blood leaking from the cuts on his left wrist, dripping in slow motion onto the clean, gray tile. In his other hand he held a razor, stained red. He felt Brendon pull it away from him, starting to wrap his arms around him. Ryan pushed him away, eyes widening.
“Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” He screeched, looking up at the male. “Leave me alone, just.. just leave!”
Brendon shook his head, reaching a hand out. “Ryan, let me help you. You’re hurt.”
Ryan shut his eyes, hitting away Brendon’s hand. He clenched his fist as the material of his shirt brushed one the deeper cuts cuts, but at the same time, the pain was more like a relief, soothing and calming, even though it was bitter and stinging at the same time.
“Leave me alone. Everything has to be perfect!” He hissed, his eyes opening to glare at Brendon, “You’re ruining everything. I hate you. You’re ruining perfection.”
Brendon stared at him, frowning. “Ryan, listen. You’re bleeding. Let me help you. At least let me clean off some of the blood,” he said quietly, moving towards Ryan again.
“No, stop! I said go away! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” Ryan struggled to his feet, hurrying for the door. “Leave me alone!” He was stopped from leaving the bathroom by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist. He let out a cry, clawing at the strong arms and trying to move forward at the same time.
“Baby, baby, ssh, you need to calm down,” Brendon whispered into Ryan’s ear, not loosening his hold on him at all, “You’re not thinking straight. C’mon baby, calm down.”
Ryan, however, didn’t want to calm down. He sobbed, trying to pull away from Brendon, throwing his arms out to grab onto anything to help him. “Please, please, just let me go, just let me go!”
Brendon shook his head and kept his hold on Ryan with only one arm, grabbing a few strips of toilet paper. “Ryan, give me your wrist, okay?” When Ryan didn’t, Brendon had to grab it, holding the pieces of toilet paper to his wrist, watching as it turned from white to ruby red almost instantly.
“Please, Brendon, let me go, I don’t want to be here! It’s not perfect! Please, please, please!” Ryan pushed his fingernails into Brendon’s skin, dragging them along his arm, watching as he pressed deep enough that they turned red, tearing open the skin. “I hate this. It’s not perfect.”
Brendon’s eyes shut, and he pulled Ryan to the floor with him, gently rocking him in his arms. “It’s okay Ryan. Everything’s fine. Everything’s perfect.”
“NO, NO, NO!” Ryan shook his head violently, looking up at Brendon, eyes bloodshot and dried tears on his cheeks. “You’re not perfect! This isn’t perfect.”
Brendon sighed, reaching a hand up and taking hold of one of the crisp white towels that had a reindeer on it, and tugging. He replaced the soaked toilet paper with the towel, holding it tightly against Ryan’s wrist.
“Ryan, you’re not perfect either.”
--
6:19 P.M.
Ryan jerked, waking up when there were secure arms around him, keeping his eyes shut. There was a mouth against his ear, singing sweet nothings into it while the arms rocked him slowly. He wasn’t on the bathroom floor anymore, but was now on the bed, the silky sheets wrapped around him. He moved his left wrist slightly, finding himself unable to bend it. From what he could feel, a bandage was around it, probably covering up the cuts he’d made.
He slowly opened his eyes, turning his head to look up at Brendon. The male forced a weak smile at him, brushing a hand through his hair. “Ryan. God, Ryan you scared me. You seriously scared me, baby.”
Ryan furrowed his eyebrows together, licking his lips. “You’re not perfect, Brendon, you’re not. You’re ruining everything. I hate you. You ruined my life.”
“Ryan, ssh. Listen, you’re not in your right mind. You’re probably just dizzy from losing all of that blood,” Brendon said quietly, “Do you remember what you did?”
Ryan pulled himself out of the male’s arms, moving backwards off the bed until he was standing. “Of course I fucking do! I did it all because of you. You’re ruining my life. I want you out of my house. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
Brendon also stood up, shaking his head. “Ryan, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you need to go see a doctor. There’s something wrong with you,” he whispered, moving forward to brush his hand over Ryan’s cheek.
“There’s nothing fucking wrong with me! The only thing wrong is you! You’re a whore, and a stalker, and a homosexual, and a freeloader! I hate you,” Ryan hissed, swatting Brendon’s hand away and backing up against the wall, “You’re the definition of imperfection. You ruin everything!”
“Ryan, stop it. You’re not yourself ri-“
“YOU STOP IT! You don’t know anything about me! I was fucking perfect until you came along! You barged right into my life and ruined everything! You’re so fucking stupid and imperfect! I don’t want you here!” Ryan shouted, glancing at the top of the dresser Brendon had purchased. There was a fancy glass vase, probably for decoration. He grabbed it with his good hand, throwing it as hard as he could at Brendon.
Brendon dodged it, the vase shattering against the wall behind him into a million imperfect pieces. “Ryan please, stop it. You’re scaring me.”
“I’m scaring you? How scary would it be to have some stupid little kid basically move in without my permission? Having him fuck everything up and spend all of my fucking money? Fucking make me fuck him, for fuck sakes!” Ryan really wished there was another vase around, because that sound, just that sound, made him feel so fucking good inside.
“I just want you out of my fucking life.”
Ryan rushed out of the room, running down the hall. He grabbed his keys off of the thin table against the wall next to the door, which he opened. After he was out, and had his shoes on, he slammed the door, hurrying down the steps towards his car. People probably thought he was some crazy murder, no thanks to the blood all over him and the shouts and crashes that came from inside.
--
TUESDAY 1:57 A.M.
Ryan drove for hours and hours. He drove straight out of Vegas and into the desert. He stopped the car and had gotten out probably an hour ago, sitting on the desert floor and leaning against the side of his car.
See, he was too scared to wander away.
Some people.. Some people thought that they could just walk around in the desert, no danger done to them. They thought it was just sand and rocks, and maybe a few cacti. Obviously, those fucking people didn’t know what the hell a desert was like. It was sandy and rocky, yes, but it was hard ground. There were cacti, of course, but few of them. There was mostly prickly brush all around, and holes in the ground that various animals had made.
Oh, right.
The animals.
People didn’t think that fucking coyotes and javelinas, and maybe a lost mountain lion could tear you to shreds if you weren’t careful. There were also snakes. Snakes that couldn’t kill, but there were also those snakes that were poisonous and could kill you within a few moments. And of course, those silly scorpions that were so small and quick, you’d never know what had gotten you.
Everyone underestimated the desert.
Ryan, he was smart though. He understood all of the dangers, especially when he was there at night. Sure, there were the stars, but the moon was barely a crescent in the sky. He laughed bitterly to himself, thinking of all the people who thought it was easy just to go and camp out under the stars in the desert. It’d be cute, yes, until they never woke up. Did anybody ever mention to them that snakes liked to come out at night, when it was cooler?
Apparently not.
Ryan let out a yell, listening to it echo into the vast desert. In the distance, he could hear a pack of coyotes, probably howling at the moon. He stood up, wiping at his damp cheeks and hurrying back into his car. He didn’t want to be in the desert anymore. He turned the key in the ignition, starting the car.
He drove back, back towards Vegas, back towards home.
But he couldn’t go home.
Home was imperfection.
Ryan turned his car down a road in Summerlin, Nevada, which was basically a suburb in Vegas. He barely remembered this road, and it was a surprise he knew where it was still. He pulled his car in front of a driveway, the brown adobe-style house lit up with Christmas lights on the inside and out. He sighed, turning off the car and getting out.
He stared at the house, then up at the sky. Judging by the light starting to shine over the mountains, it was probably five in the morning. Of course, maybe they wouldn’t care that Ryan was here so early. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, stepping over the red rocks that were arranged in some stereotypical desert pattern.
Of course there was no fucking grass. The only people who had grass were people who wanted perfection. To be normal.
Like Ryan.
Except for the fact that everybody who lived in desert towns used rocks in their front yard instead.
Ryan shook his head, trying to shake all of his stupid, imperfect thoughts out of his head. He bit his lip, pressing the doorbell that was lit up, surrounded by a brown figure shaped into a lizard. He saw a light turn on past the stained glass window, and a silhouette was moving towards the door. Locks sounded, turning, and finally the door opened, and Ryan’s eyes were met with familiar, warm blue ones.
“Hi, Spencer.”
Author: xstockpiledmmrs
Rating: R [For a bit of self-harm]
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: Third, Ryan-centric
Disclaimer: Not true
Summary: “Leave me alone. Everything has to be perfect!”
Author's Notes: Don’t hate me for this chapter, mmkay? :D I swear, it gets better. And by the way, I’m looking for like.. a full-out beta, who is basically amazing at it. So just leave a comment, and we’ll chit-chat about it.
Previous: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
CATCHING THE RAIN
1:01 P.M.
“Ryan? Ryan, baby, where are you? Ry-Oh, Ryan.”
Ryan sniffled from where he sat in the bathroom, huddled in the corner, staring down at the blood leaking from the cuts on his left wrist, dripping in slow motion onto the clean, gray tile. In his other hand he held a razor, stained red. He felt Brendon pull it away from him, starting to wrap his arms around him. Ryan pushed him away, eyes widening.
“Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” He screeched, looking up at the male. “Leave me alone, just.. just leave!”
Brendon shook his head, reaching a hand out. “Ryan, let me help you. You’re hurt.”
Ryan shut his eyes, hitting away Brendon’s hand. He clenched his fist as the material of his shirt brushed one the deeper cuts cuts, but at the same time, the pain was more like a relief, soothing and calming, even though it was bitter and stinging at the same time.
“Leave me alone. Everything has to be perfect!” He hissed, his eyes opening to glare at Brendon, “You’re ruining everything. I hate you. You’re ruining perfection.”
Brendon stared at him, frowning. “Ryan, listen. You’re bleeding. Let me help you. At least let me clean off some of the blood,” he said quietly, moving towards Ryan again.
“No, stop! I said go away! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” Ryan struggled to his feet, hurrying for the door. “Leave me alone!” He was stopped from leaving the bathroom by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist. He let out a cry, clawing at the strong arms and trying to move forward at the same time.
“Baby, baby, ssh, you need to calm down,” Brendon whispered into Ryan’s ear, not loosening his hold on him at all, “You’re not thinking straight. C’mon baby, calm down.”
Ryan, however, didn’t want to calm down. He sobbed, trying to pull away from Brendon, throwing his arms out to grab onto anything to help him. “Please, please, just let me go, just let me go!”
Brendon shook his head and kept his hold on Ryan with only one arm, grabbing a few strips of toilet paper. “Ryan, give me your wrist, okay?” When Ryan didn’t, Brendon had to grab it, holding the pieces of toilet paper to his wrist, watching as it turned from white to ruby red almost instantly.
“Please, Brendon, let me go, I don’t want to be here! It’s not perfect! Please, please, please!” Ryan pushed his fingernails into Brendon’s skin, dragging them along his arm, watching as he pressed deep enough that they turned red, tearing open the skin. “I hate this. It’s not perfect.”
Brendon’s eyes shut, and he pulled Ryan to the floor with him, gently rocking him in his arms. “It’s okay Ryan. Everything’s fine. Everything’s perfect.”
“NO, NO, NO!” Ryan shook his head violently, looking up at Brendon, eyes bloodshot and dried tears on his cheeks. “You’re not perfect! This isn’t perfect.”
Brendon sighed, reaching a hand up and taking hold of one of the crisp white towels that had a reindeer on it, and tugging. He replaced the soaked toilet paper with the towel, holding it tightly against Ryan’s wrist.
“Ryan, you’re not perfect either.”
--
6:19 P.M.
Ryan jerked, waking up when there were secure arms around him, keeping his eyes shut. There was a mouth against his ear, singing sweet nothings into it while the arms rocked him slowly. He wasn’t on the bathroom floor anymore, but was now on the bed, the silky sheets wrapped around him. He moved his left wrist slightly, finding himself unable to bend it. From what he could feel, a bandage was around it, probably covering up the cuts he’d made.
He slowly opened his eyes, turning his head to look up at Brendon. The male forced a weak smile at him, brushing a hand through his hair. “Ryan. God, Ryan you scared me. You seriously scared me, baby.”
Ryan furrowed his eyebrows together, licking his lips. “You’re not perfect, Brendon, you’re not. You’re ruining everything. I hate you. You ruined my life.”
“Ryan, ssh. Listen, you’re not in your right mind. You’re probably just dizzy from losing all of that blood,” Brendon said quietly, “Do you remember what you did?”
Ryan pulled himself out of the male’s arms, moving backwards off the bed until he was standing. “Of course I fucking do! I did it all because of you. You’re ruining my life. I want you out of my house. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
Brendon also stood up, shaking his head. “Ryan, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you need to go see a doctor. There’s something wrong with you,” he whispered, moving forward to brush his hand over Ryan’s cheek.
“There’s nothing fucking wrong with me! The only thing wrong is you! You’re a whore, and a stalker, and a homosexual, and a freeloader! I hate you,” Ryan hissed, swatting Brendon’s hand away and backing up against the wall, “You’re the definition of imperfection. You ruin everything!”
“Ryan, stop it. You’re not yourself ri-“
“YOU STOP IT! You don’t know anything about me! I was fucking perfect until you came along! You barged right into my life and ruined everything! You’re so fucking stupid and imperfect! I don’t want you here!” Ryan shouted, glancing at the top of the dresser Brendon had purchased. There was a fancy glass vase, probably for decoration. He grabbed it with his good hand, throwing it as hard as he could at Brendon.
Brendon dodged it, the vase shattering against the wall behind him into a million imperfect pieces. “Ryan please, stop it. You’re scaring me.”
“I’m scaring you? How scary would it be to have some stupid little kid basically move in without my permission? Having him fuck everything up and spend all of my fucking money? Fucking make me fuck him, for fuck sakes!” Ryan really wished there was another vase around, because that sound, just that sound, made him feel so fucking good inside.
“I just want you out of my fucking life.”
Ryan rushed out of the room, running down the hall. He grabbed his keys off of the thin table against the wall next to the door, which he opened. After he was out, and had his shoes on, he slammed the door, hurrying down the steps towards his car. People probably thought he was some crazy murder, no thanks to the blood all over him and the shouts and crashes that came from inside.
--
TUESDAY 1:57 A.M.
Ryan drove for hours and hours. He drove straight out of Vegas and into the desert. He stopped the car and had gotten out probably an hour ago, sitting on the desert floor and leaning against the side of his car.
See, he was too scared to wander away.
Some people.. Some people thought that they could just walk around in the desert, no danger done to them. They thought it was just sand and rocks, and maybe a few cacti. Obviously, those fucking people didn’t know what the hell a desert was like. It was sandy and rocky, yes, but it was hard ground. There were cacti, of course, but few of them. There was mostly prickly brush all around, and holes in the ground that various animals had made.
Oh, right.
The animals.
People didn’t think that fucking coyotes and javelinas, and maybe a lost mountain lion could tear you to shreds if you weren’t careful. There were also snakes. Snakes that couldn’t kill, but there were also those snakes that were poisonous and could kill you within a few moments. And of course, those silly scorpions that were so small and quick, you’d never know what had gotten you.
Everyone underestimated the desert.
Ryan, he was smart though. He understood all of the dangers, especially when he was there at night. Sure, there were the stars, but the moon was barely a crescent in the sky. He laughed bitterly to himself, thinking of all the people who thought it was easy just to go and camp out under the stars in the desert. It’d be cute, yes, until they never woke up. Did anybody ever mention to them that snakes liked to come out at night, when it was cooler?
Apparently not.
Ryan let out a yell, listening to it echo into the vast desert. In the distance, he could hear a pack of coyotes, probably howling at the moon. He stood up, wiping at his damp cheeks and hurrying back into his car. He didn’t want to be in the desert anymore. He turned the key in the ignition, starting the car.
He drove back, back towards Vegas, back towards home.
But he couldn’t go home.
Home was imperfection.
Ryan turned his car down a road in Summerlin, Nevada, which was basically a suburb in Vegas. He barely remembered this road, and it was a surprise he knew where it was still. He pulled his car in front of a driveway, the brown adobe-style house lit up with Christmas lights on the inside and out. He sighed, turning off the car and getting out.
He stared at the house, then up at the sky. Judging by the light starting to shine over the mountains, it was probably five in the morning. Of course, maybe they wouldn’t care that Ryan was here so early. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, stepping over the red rocks that were arranged in some stereotypical desert pattern.
Of course there was no fucking grass. The only people who had grass were people who wanted perfection. To be normal.
Like Ryan.
Except for the fact that everybody who lived in desert towns used rocks in their front yard instead.
Ryan shook his head, trying to shake all of his stupid, imperfect thoughts out of his head. He bit his lip, pressing the doorbell that was lit up, surrounded by a brown figure shaped into a lizard. He saw a light turn on past the stained glass window, and a silhouette was moving towards the door. Locks sounded, turning, and finally the door opened, and Ryan’s eyes were met with familiar, warm blue ones.
“Hi, Spencer.”