I've Got a Secret

"I brought you some stuff," I set the magazines and iPod on Brendon's lap. "I also brought you some food, but you can't eat it while a doctor is around. It's donuts."

Brendon smiled and I hid them under the bed. "Will they check under your bed?"

"Nah," Brendon replied. He leaned back in his bed, lazily looking at me through half closed eyes. He gripped my hand, "I love you, Ry."

"I love you too, Bren." I grinned and pecked him on the cheek. "I don't know what I'd do with out you, y'know?"

"I don't know what I would do without you and your donuts." Brendon chuckled. He ran his thumb over the knuckles of my fingers. "I'm tired."

'Do you want to take a nap?" I asked through a smile.

"Would it be okay with you?" Brendon asked and I nodded.

"I'll be right back," I whispered as I stood up. He nodded and hugged his pillow, clearly fatigued.

It's been a few days, and I've been visiting Brendon every day after school. I would usually bring him something, something to read or some new music from a band he likes. Doctors said that he could come home in a few days, but that was two days ago.

I went into the hallway to find his doctor. He stood with a nurse, looking into a file for a patient. He looked up, saw me, and excused himself from the nurse.

'Mr. Ross," he smiled one of those welcoming doctor smiles, and that is usually plastered on to tell a family their son isn't dying or that someone will live through cancer. "Mr. Urie seems to be doing better, I assume you want to know when he is leaving?"

"Yeah, pretty much." I returned.

"Yes, well, he has recovered well and will most likely be able to go home tomorrow." He nodded, but his eyes darted over my shoulder. I turned around to see who was behind me, and oh shit.

Brendon's parents stood behind me with one of those looks. A look maybe a parent might have when they didn't visit their son for days while he was wounded in the hospital. A look that says they kicked out their son because he was gay but still wanted to visit him in the hospital and act worried.

And I stood there. And looked. And said, "What are you doing here?"

"We're here to see Brendon," his mom had said. 'Is he okay?" She leaned into the doorway to watch her sleeping son.

"Yes." I said, like a stone. "Anything else?"

"Can we see him?"

"I guess," I said. But really, my head screamed no, no, no, you assholes.

They walked into his room and woke him up. I stood in the hallway, watching from the door. My figure slanted against the door and I pretended to not grind my teeth.

"Brendon, honey." His mom shook him slightly. "Wake up, sweetie."

Brendon turned over, rubbed his eyes, and blinked. "Mom? Dad?"

"Yes, Brendon." His dad finally whispered out. "How are you?"

Shitty because he had to work his ass off to live. And all because of you. Fuck off.

"I'm fine, dad." Brendon said while he sat up, wincing slightly. His mother immediately put a pillow behind him to make sure he is comfortable.

Not that I have something against his mom, I just hate his dad. His mom seems to accept his sexuality, it's just his dad that is a fucking prick.

"We wanted to talk about something, honey." His mom set her hands in her lap, she had sat herself down in a plastic chair that I had slept in for half a week. "We've been talking, and we have decided to let you move back home."

My mouth dropped and hit the floor.

Fuck no.

"Really?" Brendon asked. "I don't know. . ." I smirked, he better not move back in with his parents.

"Think about it," his dad said. "We'll come back tomorrow to see."

And they left. I picked up my jaw off the floor. "What the fuck. . ." Brendon laughed, nervously. "You aren't seriously going to consider it, are you?"

Please do not consider it. I love you.

"I don't know, Ry." He sighed and played with his fingers in his lap. "I might."

"No, you can't Bren. Please don't." I said while I sat back down in that blue plastic chair.

"I don't know. I'll think about it, but I doubt it." He laughed, but didn't sound like he did really doubt it.

Please, Brendon. Don't fucking move in with them.