The Impossible is Possible (Ryden)

Chapter 23

It's the next evening when Ryan seems to decide to open up, a little.

They're lying back on Brendon's bed, in a comfortable silence, and Brendon is letting his thoughts wander. He begins to think of how, strangely, everything is coming together; Rodney is out of his life, Timothy probably won't try anything again now that he knows he'll meet opposition, his parents are getting on better than they ever have, and Ryan's here, with him.

Of course, he knows that for Ryan, things haven't been going well at all. His dad is still missing - the cops are looking for him - and his mom is dead, but Brendon hopes that things will get better for him. They have to. He just can't stand anymore heartbreak for him. It's the funeral tomorrow, and Brendon knows he's going to have to be the strongest he's ever been in his life - he just needs to be there, and hopefully that might help Ryan, even a little.

"What are you going to be doing about your glasses?" Ryan asks, turning his head to glance at Brendon.

Brendon sighs. "My mom and I are going to get some at the weekend. I tried to ask her if I could get contacts, but she still thinks that glasses would be better."

"Don't get contacts," Ryan says, and presses a quick kiss to Brendon's cheek. "I like your glasses."

Brendon pulls a face. "I don't. I don't think I have much of a choice but to get some more though, so I'll still be wearing them."

"Good," Ryan replies, with a small smile. The smile soon fades, however, and his expression once more goes glum. It's been doing that a lot recently - devoid of any real emotion, and Brendon wonders if even the violent sides of his boyfriend have disappeared altogether.

"Ryan," Brendon whispers, smoothing his fingers across the boy's hips. "How's your medication doing?"

"I feel tired and ill and a bit empty," Ryan explains, with a sigh. "I feel...nothing, really. Everything has just gone. I don't know. I fucking – I just want to feel something other than heaviness, you know? I just – I can't stand it. I don't know. I really don't fucking know."

Brendon bites his lip, wondering what on earth he's supposed to say to that. He presses a quick kiss to the back of Ryan's hair, taking in the scent of the shampoo from his shower. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, okay? I don't know what to say, but I'm here to listen, whenever, okay?"

"Thanks," Ryan murmurs, and lets out an even heavier sigh. "I guess that you deserve to know, but there's nothing much to know. My father is a fucking asshole, my mom had no back-bone, and I slice up my legs to try and forget. There's nothing more."

Brendon blinks. Whatever he'd been expecting, he's not been expecting that. "Um," he whispers, wondering if he'll ever, ever understand the boy in his arms, but knowing that he probably won't. "Um. Well –"

"But that's okay, you know?" Ryan says, with the smallest of laughs, and Brendon's heart skips a beat. "It's okay, because like, it's the past. I hate it, but it's the past. I hope it's the past; but, God, no, it is. I have to look forward to the future."

"The future?" Brendon asks, barely able to breathe.

"You," Ryan says, turning around, so that he's facing Brendon. "You. That's why things will okay."

Brendon can feel everything swelling inside, and he lets out a small laugh that kind of sounds like a sob, and tilts his head forward to catch Ryan's mouth in a soft kiss. Ryan smiles, a genuine smile, and Brendon hopes – no, knows - that things are going to be fine, in the end.

Why wouldn't they be?