The Impossible is Possible (Ryden)

Chapter 29

Brendon wakes up, in a cold sweat, gasping for breath, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He squints up into the darkness, his chest heaving, trying to work out what's wrong. Then he remembers what he was dreaming about; the gunshot, the masks, the blood, the stilling hand. He takes a deep, steadying breath, and tries to make himself calm down.

"Shh," come a comforting voice, from his side, and in a moment a pair of warm lips are brushing against his own. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I - I know," he manages to whisper back, feeling ashamed and still a little nauseas. It's hardly the first time this has happened, and it's getting embarrassing. "I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's fine," Ryan replies, softly, one of his arms curling comfortingly around Brendon's bare waist. "Honestly, it's fine."

Brendon sighs, and closes his eyes again. It's been three months since the attack, and he still can't forget it all that easily. He knows that Ryan understands, more than anybody else in the world; sometimes, it's him who is woken, by the sounds of Ryan having a nightmare, and he has to kiss the tears away.

"Were you thinking about them?" Ryan murmurs, sympathetically. Brendon doesn't have to pause to work out who he's referring to. After all, who else could it be, but for the boys waiting for their trail to start. Martin and Timothy Ashfield, who will be tried for attempted murder and assistance to an offender, respectively.

"Yeah," Brendon sighs in response, seeing their masked faces flash through his mind. "Them, and what happened. I can't stop dreaming about you nearly - nearly --"

"Dying?" Ryan finishes for him, smoothing his hair from his cheek, and planting a soft kiss there. "Try not to, okay? I'm here. I didn't die. I can't believe, sometimes, that you're still here either - but you are, and that's all that matters."

Brendon doesn't want to show how much these words mean to him, so instead, he lets out a small, quiet laugh. "Since when have you been the optimistic one in this relationship?"

Ryan laughs, nuzzling his face into the side of Brendon's neck and mumbling, "I don't even know. Maybe it's because it's the middle of the night and I'm sleepy and content. Ask me again in ten hours or something and I won't be so hopeful."

"Yes, you will," Brendon smiles, despite the bad memories. "I won't let you be pessimistic."

"Good," Ryan mumbles, sounding as though he's not far from sleep, again. "See you in the morning. Love you."

Brendon smiles even wider, and closes his eyes. "Love you too."

*

Brendon and Ryan share a sofa, as Mr. and Mrs. Urie sit opposite them, looking excited.

They've ushered the two of them into the room for a 'surprise', and Brendon really has no idea what could be going on. It seems that Ryan knows; he keeps sharing a secretive smile with the two adults, but only smiles innocently when Brendon looks at him.

Brendon doesn't much mind. He's not sure anything can really spoil his good mood.

He and Ryan have just had explosive sex upstairs, and he wouldn't really be at all surprised if his parents had heard his moans, as his knuckles had turned white from clutching the sheets so hard, and Ryan pushed into him, as hard and as deeply as possible.

The memory makes him flush, and he clears his throat, not quite able to meet his parent's eye. He bounces his leg up and down, absently, as his parents make small talk between themselves. His mind can't help but think over the events of a few minutes earlier, of the pleasure and the coming and the sweat, and he has to take Ryan's hand to confirm that the boy is really there.

It's still kind of hard to believe that he's there, after everything.

Ryan squeezes his hand in support, raising a suggestive eyebrow, and Brendon beams back. It seems Ryan, too, remembers their escapades quite well, and Brendon can't help but press a quick, clumsy kiss, to the boy's mouth.

"What is that strange noise?" comes his mother's curious voice, quite interrupting the moment. Brendon pulls back from Ryan, and glances at his parents, to see them both gazing at the cupboard in the corner of the living room. "It sounds like there's something in there. Go and check, would you, Brendon?"

Brendon narrows his eyes, glancing between the three of them, suspiciously. They all look innocent, but he's not stupid. If it's a prank and anything scares him, he decides, as he makes his way over to it, there'll be hell to pay. There does seem to be some strange noise coming from it, a quiet whining.

Feeling extremely puzzled, he glances back at Ryan, who gives him a supportive smile. Encouraged by the sight, he reaches out, and pulls the door open.

His jaw drops.

Out of the cupboard leaps a small, beautiful, excited puppy. It's a chocolate Labrador, and it jumps up at him, eagerly, letting out a few enthusiastic barks. Brendon doesn't hesitate, but immediately bundles it up into his arms, turning to the other three with a huge beam, as the dog licks his chin happily.

"Oh my God!" he half-yells, practically bouncing up and down on the spot. "Is it mine? Is it a boy or a girl? Oh my God, it's lovely, can we keep it? Is it --"

"It's yours, and it's a girl," Mr. Urie laughs, looking delighted at his son's reaction. "She's yours to keep, yes."

"Oh my God!" Brendon repeats, grinning madly. The puppy seems to be just as happy as him; she lets out a few excited barks, and squirms in his arms. "This is -- wow. A puppy! I can't believe it."

"What are you going to name her, honey?" Mrs. Urie asks, with a large, indulgent smile.

Brendon knows, instantly, what to do. He turns to Ryan, and asks, gently, "What was your mom's name?"

Ryan frowns. "Carrie. Why --"

"I'm naming her Carrie," Brendon interrupts, confidently. He puts the dog down on the floor, and watches her bound over to Ryan, jumping onto his knee, and licking his face, too. Ryan actually giggles, and pets it. Brendon doesn't think he's ever seen anything as adorable as the two of them together. The name seems to suit her, too. "Yep. She's definitely Carrie."

Ryan looks up, meeting Brendon's gaze. He smiles, no, beams, and brushes the hair from his eyes. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," Brendon counters, sitting down next to him, and reaching over to stroke the dog. As he does so, he catches Ryan's mouth in a soft, tender kiss, parents be damned. "Thank you," he murmurs, against the boy's lips, "for not leaving me. For being with me, still."

Ryan pulls back, a small, almost shy smile upon his face, his cheeks flushed pink. "Always."

"Always," Brendon repeats, softly, and can't help kiss his boyfriend again.