Missing in Action

Chapter 017

"Everyone seems to love the idea," Spencer whispered from where he sat at Brendon's side. Brendon nodded stiffly, taking a sip of wine, and smiling that dazzling smile reserved for donors and the press when a woman looked his way. She tittered and smacked his arm gently, telling him not to tease. He inclined his head and went back to his meal. It was the first dinner of what he hoped would be many more, with proceeds going towards his charity; the one he'd been working on, now, for months, preparing everything, telling only the right people about his plans, and getting it up off the ground. The charity sought to help families who had been torn apart by the war between Beauregia and DURA. Spencer was his right hand man, as he'd always been meant to be, and was in charge of activities to help raise funds for children of the war, who'd either lost their parents or their homes. Brendon had been working nonstop for months, now, and it was finally paying off. When he'd imagined life after school, even after Beauregia had crumbled, he'd never imagined himself the President of a NGO. He'd never imagined working in the non-profit sector. And yet... he couldn't see himself doing anything else, now. He was glad, though, when Spencer turned away from him and leaned in towards Jon, conversing in hushed tones that Brendon didn't even try to hear.

"He's been like this since Christmas," Jon was saying, looking rather agitated. He lowered his voice. "He comes back to us, sobbing and pouring his heart out for once, and then he stops talking to us the next day and starts this-- this thing. I'm not..." he sighed, trailing off. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing, the charity, I'm just saying that he's faking it. He's so stiff and cold," Jon shivered and shook his head, popping a piece of carrot into his mouth. "S'not right," he finally mumbled, and Spencer was forced to agree. Though Brendon was doing a lot of good, he was no longer speaking to his friends on a regular basis, and hadn't even spoken to Ryan in over five months. Spencer and Jon had both taken to keeping their worry to themselves, but it was getting harder, especially when they spoke to Ryan at least once a week. Or, Jon did, anyway. Spencer was trying to get Brendon to open up, while Jon seemed to be doing the same with Ryan. It was rather discouraging.

***

"They say the first year is the hardest," Brendon said, then looked over at Spencer, squinting in the sunlight. It had been three months, now, since the first charity dinner, and he was helping Spencer organize and build a children's center. Somewhere kids could go after school to swim, do arts and crafts, read, play sports. All for free. He was proud of his friend. He shook his head. "I still think it's the best thing I've ever done."

***

Ryan groaned and buried his head under his pillow. His head was pounding and his entire body was throbbing with exhaustion and still the screaming. Wouldn't. Stop. Could he get away with throttling the thing? He didn't think so. The quiet he so longed for, and had longed for for four long days now wouldn't come, and he had end-of-term exams to study for and papers to be handed in and Goddamnit, he needed a proper night's rest! He gave another groan and pulled himself out of the soft, inviting bed, deciding to do something about it before the other people in the dorm house came knocking his door down. Again

He reached the drawer that had been softened with blankets and put on the floor in the lack of something better and pulled out the noise machine. Carefully. He wasn't a murderer after all. Then he used the old trick, walking back and forth, rocking, singing a song in a scratchy, sleepy voice. Nothing helped. The screaming didn't even lessen, and by the end of it Ryan had frustrated tears in his eyes and placed the baby back in the drawer before looking up at the clock. It was three in the morning. Ten in the evening in New York. He took a deep breath and picked up his cell phone, pressing in a number he knew by heart by now.

"Hello?" Jon was still laughing about something Spencer had said as he turned his face away and spoke into his cell phone. He hadn't taken the time to check the number, but when he heard the wails in the background, he was confused as to who could be calling him. He didn't have any friends with babies, did he? Frowning slightly, he got up off the couch and walked out of the room, away from the added noise from the television and Spencer's chattering.