The Impossible is Possible (Ryden)

Chapter 30

Brendon walks back from the shops, whistling pleasantly to himself.

He can't actually believe how good he feels. It was the last day of school at the end of last week, and to know that he's never, ever going to have to go back into those classrooms, and see those faces, and hear those voices, well. It makes him feel more liberated than he could have imagined.

He went to the shops to get some chocolate, because when he'd woken up that morning, he'd found Ryan in a foul mood. Though the lithium is supposed to make him more balanced, he still has incredibly off-days, and Brendon thought that instead of hanging around and getting his head bitten off, he might have more fun getting some fresh air, and some food.

As he opens the front door, he takes a healthy bite of the chocolate, savouring the sweet taste on his tongue before swallowing. The feeling of contentment swells inside of him, and he grins, shutting the door. Chocolate never fails to make him feel better.

He heads straight for the kitchen, to deposit the Pepsi Max he's bought in the fridge. His parents are in there, talking genially, and he smiles at them in welcome, which they return. They carry on with their conversation, as he puts the cans in the fridge.

"Ryan didn't go with you?" Mrs. Urie asks, startled, as he turns back towards them.

Brendon shakes his head. "He's, um. He's not feeling too good. Med troubles and all that."

"Ah," Mrs. Urie nods, in understanding, looking troubled. "Does he need anything?"

"Not really, his mood'll improve soon, it always does," Brendon shrugs, thickly, through another mouth full of chocolate. He has another bar in his pocket, for Ryan, a peace-offering of sorts. Ryan had just about attacked him this morning when he'd asked if he was okay, but he hopes the gesture might make him feel a little better. "I'll go up and see him, now."

"Good luck, kid," Mr. Urie winks, giving him the thumbs up, and Brendon smiles, before heading up the stairs towards his room. He pushes his door open and enters, cautiously. He's not very good with coping with a bad-tempered boyfriend, he's learned from experience.

To his surprise, he finds Ryan on his knees, rifling through the bottom of Brendon's drawers, a desperate look on his face. Brendon pauses, then shuts the door behind himself, and clears his throat. "Uh. What are you looking for?"

Ryan looks up at him. "My knife. I can't find it anywhere. I had two, and one got lost when we were attacked, but I had a spare one, and now I can't find it anywhere. Fuck it."

Brendon puts the chocolate bars down on his bedside table, and sits on the edge of his bed. He watches Ryan abandon his searching of the drawer, and start scanning the floor, and then sighs, heavily. "Why do you need a knife?"

Ryan throws him a dirty look. "Why the fuck do you think I do?"

Brendon sighs. "No, I don't. I don't think I'll ever really know, or understand."

"Well, I'm sorry I can't be all full of energy and happiness all the time like you," Ryan spits, bitterly, and continues with his search. "Help me find it, would you? I need it."

"No, you don't," Brendon disagrees, calmly, and Ryan glares at him. "I don't understand, because there are other things you could be doing right now which would be more productive than slicing your thighs open."

Brendon knows his words are blunt, but he only feels a little guilty as Ryan goes red. After all, he needs to do something to break his boyfriend's habit, and if throwing his knife away and being unsympathetic works, he's got to try it. Ryan lets out a heavy, angry breath, and shakes his head. "You don't understand. There's nothing else I could be doing. I need to do this."