The Clan of Raven (Ryden)

{six}

The cut gets infected. Of course it gets infected. Ryan stares at the swollen wound mournfully when his mother forces him to visit a doctor. She goes on and on about how she can't believe he managed to get such a cut by falling from a tree, but well. Ryan couldn't very well tell her he cut it there himself. She'd send him to a shrink or something.

He gets antibiotics and a strict command to avoid swimming for the next two weeks. Ryan mopes around the garden with his bandaged arm when the rest of his clan slips through the gap in the rose bush.

"Ouch, how's that doing?" Jon asks, grimacing at Ryan's hand.

Ryan shrugs. "There's an infection. I'm on antibiotics."

Brendon frowns empathically. "Maybe your immune system is working inefficiently or something," he suggests.

Ryan rolls his eyes. "My immune system is fine, thanks. It also might have something to do with unsanitary knives and dark concrete holes."

"I didn't get anything," Brendon points out and extends a hand, showing off his wound that has developed a clean and neat scab.

"Same here," Jon says and flicks his wrist so Ryan can see the cut is healing just perfectly.

Ryan frowns. "Not fair."

Surprisingly, Spencer comes to his aid. "You're not alone, young one."

"You're younger than I am," Ryan mutters, but doesn't continue further when Spencer's eyes land on him.

"Mine's a little itchy as well," Spencer sighs and shows his wound, red and a little swollen around the edges. It's not as bad as Ryan's, but it's not healing flawlessly either. Spencer casts a tentative smile at him, and Ryan smiles back. Bonding over the wound-healing process perhaps isn't in the range of normality, but suddenly the dull throb from under the bandage doesn't feel so bad.

The wound heals eventually and sheds the scab, leaving an angry red mark on Ryan's hand. He watches it often when he's alone, thinking about the matching scars on the three other boys' hands. It's mid-summer now, and he sees Brendon and the others almost on a daily basis. Sometimes it's just Brendon, sometimes all three of them, but never just Jon or just Spencer or JonandSpencer together without Brendon. Brendon's like the glue connecting them, he's the adapter that fits in between Ryan and Spencer or Ryan and JonandSpencer. Some days Brendon appears alone, explaining that Jon and Spencer are off doing something by themselves, but most of the time it's all of them, all four together, loitering around the city, hiding in dark corners and exploring whatever life decides to throw at them. Ryan's mother complains that she barely sees him these days, and when she does his clothes are dirty or torn and he constantly has scratches all over his body. But it's their summer, their crazy adventures, and Ryan feels like his heart swells oddly every time he looks at Brendon, grinning goofily at him, or Spencer who always has that slight smirk on his face, or Jon who always looks at him warmly, one eyebrow quirked up and hands pushed deep into his pockets.

"Dude, there's a used condom on the ground," Brendon points out one day when they walk down the street, and promptly jumps over the offensive object. Ryan frowns at the see-through latex, bunched at his feet, but Brendon snaps a twig from a nearby fence and comes back, poking the gross-looking thing with it. He manages to fish the condom up from the ground with the twig and waves it towards Ryan. "Gro-oooss," Brendon chants and laughs brightly when Ryan backs off, looking mildly horrified.

"It's so like you to pick up all the scum lying on the ground," Spencer sighs exasperatedly from behind Ryan.

Ryan grins and turns his head so he can see Spencer from the corner of his eye. "Like me, huh?"

He's not afraid to joke around Spencer anymore. Spencer seemed doubtful for a while but now he's fully embraced the fact that the number of the Clan members has permanently increased by one. Spencer cracks up and slams his palm on Ryan's back, right in the middle and between his shoulder blades. "Yes, exactly."