ALWAYS {A Ryden MPreg}--House Of Memories: Book Two (Wattys 2016)

disenchanted

TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter contains scenes of violence

The two of them spent the next three and a half months searching for the perfect apartment. They had found a decent hotel room, and they hardly left. Ryan had bought them each a top-of-the-line laptop, so they could never cease looking for the perfect place.
Brendon wiped his bleary eyes and sighed. He had just found an amazing apartment.
"Can't we go to bed, Ry? It's two in the fucking morning, and I am tired." Brendon whispered. Ryan glared at him. "Don't speak to me like that," Ryan spat, standing over Brendon, who cringed.
"I-I'm sorry, Ry," the younger boy whimpered. "I'm just...I need to sleep. Please," he yawned, rubbing his eyes and getting to his feet. Ryan backhanded Brendon across the face, sending the younger boy stumbling backward. Brendon burst into tears and pointed up at his computer screen. "I..I think I just found us a place," Brendon said bitterly, wiping his eyes and trying to get to his feet. "I...I was getting up so you could come look at it," Brendon sobbed. Ryan glanced at the computer screen and saw that Brendon was telling the truth. "I'm so sorry, Bren," Ryan said in a horrified whisper. Brendon wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I...it's okay, Ry," he whimpered.

"No, it's not! I'm...I can't believe I hurt you. Could you ever forgive me?"

Brendon smiled weakly and nodded. "We're stressed out and sleep deprived, Ry-Ry."

The older boy sighed, then nodded. "Get to sleep, Brenny-Bear."
Brendon blushed and giggled. "You should make an offer on the apartment tomorrow."

***

They'd been in their own place for a week, and Ryan was going to snap. Either that, or kill Brendon. Brendon seemed to do nothing but throw up and complain at this point. Ryan knew it wasn't Brendon's fault...not really. It was Ryan who'd chosen not to use a condom. So.
"Ry...?" Brendon whispered, his voice frightened.
"Yes, Brendon?"
"How...how are we gonna do this?"
Ryan shook his head. "I wish I knew."
Brendon whimpered, his face contorted with agony. "Oh, god," he moaned, clutching his still-flat stomach.
"What's wrong?" Ryan asked.
"Cramps," Brendon whispered. He took out his phone.
B: Hey, G. Do you think you and Mikey could come over?
G: Sure...just don't expect me to play nice with Ross.
B: that's what I'm counting on.
Brendon sighed and put his phone down. "What are we gonna tell everyone? Y'know...at school?" Brendon whispered, his voice distorted by the pain.
"Are you serious?" Ryan asked. "We're not going back to school."
Brendon flinched from the tone in Ryan's voice. "Don't yell at me," he rolled over so he was facing the wall.
"I'm sorry, Bren...I'm just really stressed out."
There was a knock on the bedroom door.
"Come in," Brendon said.
The door swung open, and in walked Gerard and Mikey Way. Gerard sat on the floor by the bed, and Mikey leaned against the doorway.
"Bren, why are they here?" Ryan spat.
"I asked them to come. They're my friends."
Ryan jumped to his feet. "What? Am I not fucking enough for you?" He tried for the doorway, but Mikey shoved him back. "C'mon, Ross, play nice," Mikey said calmly. Ryan glared at him. "I don't have to be here!"
"You're gonna leave Brendon when he really needs you?" Mikey whispered incredulously. "Let's just try to get along...for Brendon's sake, at least."
Brendon slowly sat up, fixing his tear-filled gaze on Ryan.
"He obviously wasn't satisfied with me! Or you two wouldn't be here!" Ryan hollered.
"Th-that's not true," Brendon whimpered, unable to make eye contact with Ryan.
"Whatever. I'm out of here." Ryan snapped, shoving past Mikey and storming out.
Brendon started sobbing. "I...I just wanted..."
Gerard sat on the edge of the bed. "It's okay. He just needs to calm down."
Brendon nodded. "Y-you're right. I just hate making him mad," Brendon bit his lip. "I-I'm sorry."
Gerard arched an eyebrow. "Why are you apologizing?"
Brendon shook his head and sighed. "For...for asking you guys to be here so much. It's just that...Ryan...when he gets mad...he hits me. So...I just thought...if you guys were here....it wouldn't be so bad." Brendon wiped a tear from his cheek.
Gerard stared at him, horrified. "He hits you?"
Brendon nodded. "Usually in the face...but a couple of times, he has punched me in the stomach," Brendon whispered in a timid voice. "He apologizes, but he always does it again and again. It's like...like he's turning into his father," Brendon stopped himself. "Shit. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about that." Gerard nodded.
"We...we already know about Ryan's dad," Mikey sighed. "But back up a second. If Ross hits you...where are the bruises?" Brendon let out a shaky breath,
"Gee...do you have any makeup wipes with you, by any chance?" Brendon whispered.
"Actually, I do," Gerard said, reaching into his patent leather messenger bag and bringing out a thing of wipes. He handed them to the younger boy.
"What does this have to do with bruises?" Mikey asked, rolling his eyes. Gerard glared at his brother. "He's gonna show us."
Brendon took one of the wipes and started rubbing it all over his face for a few minutes. He lowered the wipe, and the brothers gasped. Brendon's face was covered in bruises, his eyes back and swollen. "Ryan hates seeing what he's done to me, so I cover it up." Brendon whispered softly.
"Why do you stay with him," Gerard began, unable to look away from the bruises on the pregnant boy's face. "If he's this abusive? I mean, didn't you say that he's punched you in the stomach more than once?" Brendon nodded silently, getting something off the dresser. Gerard saw that it was heavy-duty concealer. Brendon walked over to the vanity and set to work reapplying his makeup. Once he was satisfied, he set the makeup down and sat back on the bed. "I...I provoked him," Brendon whispered ashamedly. "I made him mad. And, as for your other question...I could never leave him. I love him."
Gerard ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, well...if he hits you again, you can always come and stay with us."
Brendon took a shaky breath and nodded. "Y-yeah. Okay."
"So...other than the whole 'my boyfriend hits me' thing...how are you doing?" Mikey asked, sitting on the giant beanbag under the window. Brendon shrugged.
"Not as bad, I guess. I'm still sick a lot, but I am getting stronger," Brendon said, managing a tiny smile.
"That's always good. How far along are you?" Gerard said, curious.
"Um...four months, maybe? I'm not quite sure. I'm not gonna go to a doctor."
"Why not?" Gerard asked.
"I...I know people will stare," Brendon admitted sheepishly.
"Of course people will stare. You're fucking gorgeous," Gerard gave a Brendon a wink and laughed. Brendon rolled his eyes.
"Shh...I just don't wanna do it."
Mikey sighed. "It's a good idea. Just to make sure everything is okay. Y'know?"
Brendon let out a sharp gasp of pain. "What is it?" Gerard asked, concerned.
"Just...cramps, I think," Brendon panted, then relaxed.