Lights

Spencer answered the door while rubbing his eyes. It seemed to take him a few moments to absorb the scene in front of him before he sighed, “Oh no.”

Ryan looked at him. He thought he should probably try and smile, but he couldn't manage it at that moment.

The police officer smiled instead. “Good morning, sir,” he greeted. “I'm Officer Read. Is this man living with you?”

“Yeah, yeah, he is,” Spencer said, nodding tiredly. “Come in.”

“That's unnecessary,” Officer Read replied. “I just came to drop him off. But, upon request, I'll return in the morning.”

“In the morning –?”

“There's a lot that needs to be explained,” Officer Read went on, “but I think it might have to wait. This man needs some sleep after what he's been through.”

Spencer looked at Ryan, his brow furrowed. “Are you okay, Ry?”

Ryan shrugged and nodded.

“Well, Ryan,” Officer Read said. “Make sure you get some sleep.”

Officer Read nodded at both of them before turning on his heel and starting for the elevator. Spencer stared after him for a few moments before turning to Ryan. He gently took his elbow and steered him inside the apartment.

“I don't know what's going on,” Spencer sighed, “but he's right, you look a mess. You need to crash.”

“I dunno if I can.”

“If you can't, come get me,” Spencer said. “I have sleeping pills.”

Ryan nodded and wandered back into his bedroom. All the clothes were still scattered over his bed, and he pushed them all off, trying not to look too closely at them. He chucked the Dumbo video back into the duffel bag where he couldn't see it, then crawled under the covers and pulled the pillow over his head.

For a while, sleep seemed impossible. The images haunted his brain and made him want to cry out, but soon he managed to distract himself. He concentrated on breathing in and out. He made sure that the only words in his mind were in one second, and out the next. And slowly the image of Brendon vanished, replaced by the monotony of a necessity that no one had realised was so helpful. Soon, his mind couldn't think these same two words any longer and he fell asleep.

*

When Ryan awoke, he had been hoping for some sort of blissful ignorance. He had been wishing for a few minutes where he could stand up and prepare some food in a stupor before he remembered what happened last night. But after a few seconds, everything washed back over him, and he had to close his eyes and press the heels of his palms against his eyelids.

He forced himself to climb out of bed a little while later. Spencer and Kayla were both in the living room. He looked at them blankly for a few moments, before shrugging and heading for the kitchen.

“I can make that for you,” Spencer offered, but Ryan didn't reply and started with some toast.
He had to hand it to them – they both waited patiently until he had completely finished making and eating his meal, no matter how agonisingly slow his bites were. As he swallowed the last piece, Kayla stood up and took the plate for him.

He didn't dare turn to Spencer, but Spencer didn't wait for Ryan's eyes to settle on him anyway.
“You need to tell us what happened.”

Ryan sniffed and shrugged. “It just... happened.”

“Why did you go out so late?”

“Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to save him.” Ryan blinked rapidly, trying to evade the fact that he hadn't managed to save him anyway.

“You could have called the police.”

Ryan frowned. “I thought I explained that.”

Spencer shook his head as Kayla sat down next to him again, uncharacteristically silent.

“I think you might need to start from the beginning,” Spencer said, quietly. “I want to understand.”

So, Ryan did. He went back to exactly how he'd first met Brendon, and explained how he had been so protective of his past as they had been living together. He told them how Brendon had disappeared, then returned a day later with bruises and black eyes, which Spencer already knew, but he had not been aware of the more intriguing details. He told them about what Brendon had told him – exactly what had happened, exactly what he knew. Why Brendon had acted out. And he explained it so specifically, because he needed them to understand that Brendon was not a bad person, though others may think otherwise. He told them of the night when the gang had stormed into their house, with tears in his eyes. He said why they moved in with Spencer – and he apologised profusely. And then he told them about the post-it note in the video case, leading up to where he had entered the warehouse.

“Ryan,” Spencer whispered, after Ryan had sucked in a deep breath and slumped down in his chair. “Fuck, man. Fuck.”

“I know,” Ryan sighed.

“Do you really need to go to the hospital?”

Ryan looked up, raising an eyebrow. “I need to know. Those doctors and surgeons and shit can do anything these days, right? They make dead people come alive again. I've seen it on TV.”

Spencer went to say something, but Kayla just nodded and added, “There's a chance.”

Ryan tried to smile at her, but he wasn't quite sure if he was doing it right.

“Can we come with you?” Spencer asked, instead.

“Y-yeah.” Ryan nodded. “Of course.”

*

They all grouped into the police car, Ryan sitting on the right and staring out the window as Spencer and Kayla both gazed at him curiously. Officer Read tried to greet them pleasantly, but when he saw Ryan he grew silent. The trip seemed a lot longer than it was, and Ryan didn't really take in any of the buildings he saw as they drove.

As the car drew to a stop, Ryan frantically battled with the handle before leaping out, waiting impatiently for Spencer and Kayla to climb out after him. Officer Read lead them into the building, and Ryan blinked against how white the walls were. Everyone was shuffling around, and it felt like everyone was speaking in hushed whispers. The most prominent noise was people's clothes rustling.

He stood back with Spencer and Kayla as they all watched the scene and tried to judge just what was occurring. Ryan tried to stand away from the people nestled in the chairs, wondering what exactly they were waiting for.

Officer Read walked back over to them. “Someone's going to see you. Apparently they've already called his parents, and they're coming up later.”

Ryan almost forgot that Brendon had parents. If he'd stayed with them, he would have been safe and well.

Ryan followed Officer Read down a hallway. The lights buzzed above them, and Ryan was almost reminded of how his apartment's lights always used to buzz and drive him crazy when he was trying to think.

They were lead into an office, where a doctor sat at a table amongst many papers. He glanced up at them and smiled. Would he smile if everything wasn't all right?”

“Hello, I'm Dr. Mitchell,” he said, holding out his hand. Ryan shook it hesitantly. Dr. Mitchell glanced at Officer Read with his eyebrows raised, and Ryan wondered for a second if all the doctors, police officers and firemen of the world had met each other at some point and collaborated.

“We're here about Brendon Urie,” Officer Read said.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Urie.” The doctor frowned at them. “How are you related to him?”

“We're his friends,” Ryan said. “We lived with him.”

“Oh, I see. Well, he came in last night in a state. He had been beaten brutally. Sadly, we couldn't save him.”

Ryan's mind had switched off at 'sadly'.

“I'm sorry,” Dr. Mitchell said, earnestly. “I know this must be horrible for you. We tried our hardest, but it was just too late.”

Ryan swallowed hard and tried to keep his hands from balling into fists. His fingers twitched at his sides.

“Brendon Urie is in the morgue right now,” Dr. Mitchell went on. “The police have taken pictures of the body, and he's been cleaned up. He's still not looking perfect, but you could see him if you'd like.”

Spencer shook his head and started, “I don't think that's --”

“Yes,” Ryan interrupted, his eyes focused on the ground. “I'd like to see him.”

Spencer lay a hand on Ryan's shoulder and leaned in. “Are you sure, Ry? Do you think you can handle it?”

“I want to,” Ryan responded, nodding his head slightly. “I saw him before. This can't be much worse, can it?”

Spencer didn't say anything, but he removed his hand from Ryan's shoulder and turned to look at the doctor.

“Follow me.” Dr. Mitchell walked out of the room as the four men trailed behind him.

At the door of the morgue, Officer Read stopped. “I think I'd prefer to stay outside for this one.”

Ryan didn't look at him, but continued through the doors. The room was almost more sterile looking than the rest of the hospital. Dr. Mitchell started checking labels before pulling on one of the things Ryan could only refer to as body drawers in his mind at that moment.

Dr. Mitchell pulled down the sheet over the body, and Ryan slowly walked to his side. He felt Spencer mimicking his footsteps behind him.

Ryan made himself look at Brendon. He looked a lot different from last night. The blood was gone, and now Ryan could see the abrasions and bruises more clearly. He wasn't perfect, but when had Brendon ever been?

The blood wasn't on Brendon's eyelashes any more. They'd cleaned that off too, and Ryan was oddly thankful.

He tried to keep looking. He tried to take in all of it. This was Brendon, this was Brendon dead. This was Brendon without his life. It was hard to look at him when Ryan knew he'd never yell or jump or run to greet him again. It was hard to believe.

His eyes raked over Brendon's skin, all over. He almost still looked alive. Ryan swallowed and turned into Spencer, who was still standing behind him. He didn't move his arms, just leaned his forehead up against Spencer's shoulder, though Spencer managed to pull him closer and whisper, “I'm sorry, Ry.”

Beneath the bruises, Brendon's skin was so pale. The lights had faded and extinguished. The glow was gone.