What I Really Am

Chapter 12 // part one

A/N:: Okay, in two days I will be in Washington D.C. for a few days. I won't be able to update then, so I'm trying to another chapter up by Wednesday morning? Anyways, since you all want to kill me after that last chapter, here is the next chapter. ((I warn you in advance, you'll probably hate me more after this sORRY BBZ ILU) PS, in case you were wondering, Ryan's dog form is a Beagle ^-^ so cute.

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Ryan's POV

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As I walk from the boundary, I swear I hear a car start up and speed off. But I live not far from the highway, so it doesn't seem too out of the ordinary.

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Man, was I wrong.

I've been sitting by the lake since Brendon left. I try to keep the voices out of my head, try to push them out, by concentrating on the ripples in the water. When Brendon left, I just had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that he wasn't safe. One of the smaller voices kept whispering to me.

"Danger."

"Can't stop him."

"Coming here."

"He's hurt."

I don't necessarily want to listen... But the voices are always right, even if I don't want to believe them. I can't just push them away. They were right when they told me I'd hurt him, they were right when they said someone would try to save me from this all.

So they have to be right, still. I drop the smooth skipping stone from my hand when I hear a car pull off the highway. I crush my eyes closed and will the curse, but for some reason, I can't switch forms...

  What is going on with me?

I look around for somewhere to go and decide on the cabin. I run and slip inside, trying to make as little noise as possible. The door is old, so it squeaks a bit, but I decide to close and bolt it. I all but run down the small hall and go to the empty room just before mine. It has a closet in it, and I wedge the door to it closed after fixing a spot in the corner for myself. The voices start nagging at me again, this time in more force. It's worse than earlier with Brendon and it is taking all I can not to scream and whimper in pain. They're eating at the careful foundations and walls I've set. The ones I've set to keep Brendon safe, that are falling down around me.

There's a crash of breaking glass and all the voices flee my mind. My heart starts to beat twice as fast and I squeeze my eyes closed again, pushing myself as far into the corner as the walls allow me. Footsteps sound in my room, fuck-- my room, right next door, and I start to panic. I can hear him, whoever it is, trashing my room. I know exactly what, who, he's looking for, and I have a feeling I know who this person might be.

The man makes his way to the hallway and stops. Right in front of the door to this room. I hold my breath and pray to all the gods, dieties, anythings I've read about, and hope that he doesn't come in here. His footsteps continue down the hall and go into the living room. I hear him snicker, and I bet I know exactly what he's looking at.

"Damn fag, kissing my boy. I can see why he likes him, he looks like a fucking girl."

Yep, I do. He's looking at a picture that Brendon took on this old Polaroid camera I have. I didn't even realize he had it in his hands. He went to kiss me, and click, the camera popped out the developing photo. It was a nice photo, but I'm pretty sure his dad doesn't care. He makes his way around the rest of the cabin, and I'm hoping he doesn't come in the room, forgot that he didn't check in here, but we all know it doesn't ever work that way.

I see where his shadow is through the gap where the hinge of the door is, and just my freaking luck.

He's coming right toward the closet. He shakes the door, and I try desperately to turn to my dog form, but as the door swings open, I must still look human because--

"There you are, you faggot. I knew you couldn't hide from me." I can barely hear anything over the pounding of my heart and blood rushing in my ears, but I can definitely hear every word he says. They cut deeper than any razor, any of the voices, deeper than anything has. He grabs me by the arm and pulls me out the closet, and I stumble on a board and fall to the floor at his feet.

Totally not how I expected to meet Brendon's father.

He looks down at me with this sick, twisted grin and kicks me hard in the side. 

"So you're the fag that my son is doing all this for? Well that's a shame, he could have at least picked an attractive boy."

I whimper as I clutch my stomach and that only makes his smile grow wider. My side is throbbing and burning and I can't get away. The things he are saying are getting to me and make me want to end this all again, to end my life. I'm so fucking useless, I need someone to save me. I agree  with every insult he throws at me. Brendon's dad hauls me up and pins me against the wall and hits me again. My jaw is throbbing, too, add that to the list, and I can taste the hint of bitter, coppery blood on my tongue. I want to give up, but somehow, I slip from his grasp. I summon up what little strength I have and punch him in stomach. I run out the room and slam the door behind me to give me some more time. I unlock the front door and make my way to the boundary. If I can just get there, I can get to Brendon.

I hear him gaining on me, but I cut through a dense patch of trees and cross the boundary line. I lost him. When we re-emerge, I'm just a dog and he looks around frantically for me. I run as fast as I can and run my way to town. Being injured, every breath is a pain, but then I remember Brendon and think maybe I'm not that hurt. He has taken much worse. After what seems like hours, I arrive at his house to see him climbing out his window onto the top of the shed. I try to bark at him, but only a whimper comes out. I know he heard me, because as soon as he gets down, he runs to me and picks me up. He has on a backpack, and his phone is in his hand. He's calling someone.

"Kellin, I'm coming over now. I've got him with me."

I hear the mumble of this man, Kellin's, voice, and Brendon thanks him and hangs up. He's running  down his street and through the town to the coffee shop, where Kellin must be. He looks at me with sorrowful brown eyes and whispers.

"I'm so sorry, Ryan."

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A/N: Other half is up tomorrow. Don't kill me :D

Anyways, this chapter was hard to write, because I wasn't entirely sure how I wanted it to start, and whether I should write Brendon or Ryan's POV. So bear with me here.