Kiss It Better, Dr. Ross

Moving On

You'll never understand
Why it's so hard to say
I'm not okay

I wish I had a scar
Had a bruise on the surface any kind of proof

~~~

It had been two months already. Spencer was going to more therapy sessions and spent the rest of his free time with Lindsey. He was able to cope with the loss much better than anyone would've anticipated, but that's Spencer for you. He could handle any situation relatively well.

Ryan on the other hand, he was forced into a leave of absence from work. Suppose that's what happens when you snap at a patient's ex-boyfriend. Ryan had his reasons of course. He couldn't understand why the bastard would leave simply because she was having surgery to remove a benign tumor. Benign. Ha! Can you imagine? Such an easy fix and yet he left her behind like their love meant nothing.

Word got out that his lover had passed away and the constant looks of sympathy were beginning to be too much to handle. He was seriously contemplating not coming back to work after his leave. What's the point? It was too hard to see the purpose of his career if he couldn't even -- 

"Ross. You alright man?" Ryan looked over his shoulder to see Gerard was leaning against the wall with his hands tucked in the pockets of his white coat. Ryan scoffed and turned back.

"Yep. Great. Couldn't be better." He shrugged off his own coat and tossed it into his locker.

"Yeah, it sure looks that way," Gerard said with an eye roll. He pushed himself off the wall and moved over to the bench, throwing one leg over to saddle it. "Wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"How's Brendon?" Ryan slammed his locker shut hard enough for it not to latch and bounce back open. Much calmer, he pushed it until it clicked closed. His hand stayed against the locker as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead onto the cool metal. He let his eyes shut and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You gotta talk about it," Gerard spoke softly. Ryan huffed and pulled away from the locker.

"It won't change anything."

"No, but it'll help. Isn't his friend seeing a therapist?" Ryan didn't answer, not knowing what to say. "He wouldn't want this." Ryan turned around and slumped down onto the bench.

"I want him back." Gerard reached over and rubbed the man's back. "But it's not like I can turn back time so... there's nothing to talk about."

"Well whenever you're ready to talk about something, I'll be ready to listen alright. For now, use this break to clear your head. Heal. No rush. Just get better, alright?" Ryan nodded. Everything about the future felt so unclear. It'll probably help to get out of this hospital.

"Now go. And don't come back till you're feeling better." Ryan nodded against and gathered his things before leaving.

Like he'd been doing for months, he made his way to Brendon's apartment. He got irritated when he found a U-haul blocking his normal parking spot, forcing him to park around the block. He made his way up the stairs and used Brendon's old key to get into the apartment. He was surprised to see most of the furniture missing.

"Uh?" There was a crash down the hall followed by a frustrated sigh. Ryan slowly made his way down the hall, stopping outside Brendon's room. "What are you doing?" Ryan unintentionally screamed out. He saw Lindsey shoving Brendon's clothes into a bag. Spencer was sitting on the floor, dismantling Brendon's bed frame. He looked up with wide eyes.

"You're supposed to be at work."

"What are you doing with his thing?" Ryan's hands balled into fists and his teeth were clenched hard enough to hurt his jaw. Spencer got to his feet and took a cautious step forward.

"I'll explain just calm down." Ryan was eyeing Lindsay who had one of Brendon's favorite shirts in her hands. Well it probably wasn't his favorite, but it was Brendon's so that made it Ryan's favorite.

"You better have a good reason for this."

"I'm moving," Spencer blurted. There was a long pause before Lindsay broke the uncomfortable silence.

"I'm feeling Chinese. Does anyone want any?" Before anyone had the chance to answer, Lindsay tossed the shirt onto the back and sped out of the room. Ryan stayed glaring at Spencer.

"Moving? What does this have to do with his things?"

"I'm donating it."

"The hell you are!"

"This was why I didn't want to tell you now."

"'Now'? So what, you were gonna just move away and then tell me?"

"No! Of course not."

"Than what?"

"When you came by after work," Spencer answered. "When it'd be too late to try and stop this from happening."

"You didn't even bother discussing this with me?" Ryan took another step forward. Spencer let out a sarcastic laugh.

"What's there to discuss?" 

"If there's any reason to actually get rid of his things." 

"'Any reason'? Ryan, no one's using any of this stuff. That's why I'm donating them. Do you know much torture it is walking by this room every day? I can't keep living like this. Unlike you, I can't stay stuck here and keep denying that Brendon died." Ryan couldn't stop himself from wincing at Spencer's bluntness. Spencer sighed and turned away for a second before looking back over at Ryan. "You should be moving on too." He turned back and continued taking apart the frame.

"So that's it then? You decide when we should do this? It's been two months, Spence. Two fucking months!" Spencer slammed his hands on the frame.

"Yeah and if it were up to you, Brendon's room would stay a god damn shrine forever." Ryan's eyes went around the room. It was almost empty now. It was like they were taking him away from Ryan all over again. He needed more time. Why do they keep taking him away when he wasn't ready?

"I know you're probably mad at me now, but it's for the best." Spencer sighed. "I'm still going to be in state, so if you need to talk you can ju-." Spencer stopped when he turned and didn't see Ryan there anymore. There was a slam at the front door. He leaned against the mattress that was propped against the wall.

"Don't do anything stupid, Ry," he whispered out to the empty room.

Ryan had raced outside, desperately needing some fresh air. When he was out on the street again, he felt like he'd just ran a marathon. He stuck his hands in his hair, pulling at the roots. He took a moment before looking up at the sky.

"They're trying to take you away. I can't do this without you. I won't," Ryan whimpered. He bowed his head and pressed his palms to his watery eyes. "Please stop leaving me," he whispered.