The Impossible is Possible (Ryden)

Chapter 24

"How is he?" Mrs. Urie asks, in a low voice, as she pulls her hair back into a knot, in front of the mirror. She's dressed in a black, simple dress, whilst her ex-husband stands by her side in a dark suit. Brendon shrugs, looking down at his newly-polished black shoes.

"He's as good as he can be, I guess," Brendon answers, thinking about the boy borrowing one of his dark suit's, upstairs. "I don't know. It's hard to tell. He's, like, just miserable, I think, but I wouldn't expect him not to be. I think he's also a bit worried about seeing some of his family, like his grandparents and all that. I don't think he gets on with them that well."

"Surely they won't say anything bad to him, today?" Mr. Urie looks startled, and quite concerned. "It's not as though the kid isn't going through enough already."

"They won't dare say anything to him," Brendon says, firmly, and a little aggressively. His dad gives him a supportive smile, in agreement. "What time are we leaving?"

"In about," Mrs. Urie glances at her watch, "twenty minutes."

"I'll go tell Ryan and make sure he's okay," Brendon says, and leaves, heading up towards his room. He hears his parents murmuring to one another as he does so, and he's beyond pleased at how well they've been getting on. He can only hope that they'll get back together - but even if they don't, at least they're talking.

When he pushes open his door and enters his bedroom, he finds Ryan stood in front of the mirror, looking awkward. He's dressed in Brendon's spare suit, and his hair is neatly brushed and out of his eyes, and his skin looks startlingly pale in contrast to all of the darkness. He looks over as Brendon enters, and bites his lip.

"I can't go," he says, at once, as Brendon walks over to him. "I actually, physically can't."

"Of course you can," Brendon disagrees, firmly. "You know you can. You're the strongest person I know, and once this is over, you can move on a bit better, you know? I'll be there, and my parents will be there, and everything will be fine."

"It won't," Ryan snaps back, a dark look flashing over his features. "It's my mom's fucking funeral, how can you say that?"

Brendon pauses. He knows not to rise to the bait; Ryan's got every reason to lash out at somebody, anybody, and it's not as though such aggression is unheard of. Brendon takes a deep breath, and puts his hand on Ryan's arm. "Ryan," he says, in what he hopes is a soothing voice, "you know that things will be --"

"Stop trying to understand, when you know you never will," Ryan mutters, pushing him away, and striding over to the door. "Let's just get this over with and put it in the past, as you think I'll be easily able to do."

As Ryan storms downstairs, Brendon stares after him, feeling on odd mixture of sympathy, resignation, and surprise. He can't blame Ryan, not really; but at the same time, all he wants to do his help him, and he's trying his best. Of course he doesn't understand; their lives have been completely different up to this point, but now that they're in each other's lives - well. He hopes that, maybe, he'll begin to understand, even if he hasn't experienced things himself.

With a small, but heavy, sigh, he follows Ryan, wondering what the day will bring.

*

The coffin is lowered, slowly and steadily, into the grave.

The small group of people huddle around it, listening to the priest, ignoring the mocking sunshine above. Ryan stands at the very tip of the grave, watching the box that holds his mother's corpse with a strange expression. Brendon stands by his side, biting his lip painfully hard, trying to keep the inevitable tears inside.