Unraveled Words

A man in a white coat called for a crash cart, sliding a plastic tube into the unconscious boy’s throat and attaching it to a bag, pumping air into his lungs. As soon as a woman came in, she took over, the man moving to press hard on the boy’s chest. An incessant beeping filled the room, along with relieved sobs from the worried boy pressed into the corner, out of the way.

Ryan sucked in a breath, eyes flying open. The room was filled with a rainless storm, Pete and Patrick still battling with lightning. He remained on the ground, terrified that if he even sat up, he would be hit with a stray shot of light. His gaze found a cage on the ceiling, one for a songbird, but instead of a bird, a girl was inside, hanging upside down like a bat, unmoving. Ryan had a feeling that that was his fate.

A single sob reached his ears over the sound of thunder, filling his vision with wilted lilacs. He felt like his heart was breaking. The lilacs drifted to his left, and he turned his head to watch them float out of a door hidden in the wall. Closing his eyes as he gathered courage, Ryan pushed himself to his feet, making sure to remain stooped over. He followed the path the lilacs had taken, finding himself in a purple hallway. It was on an incline, leading up to a closed door. Ryan didn’t have to think about what might lie behind the door. He raced up the incline, slipping a few times on the slick stone. The door opened on its own accord, swinging into the purple room that Ryan had woken up in before.

In a window he hadn’t noticed before, Brendon was standing, inching forward. Surrounded by white light, he could easily have passed for an angel. There was rain outside, falling in sheets thick enough to block out the rest of the world, although Ryan wasn’t so sure there was a world outside that room.

“Stop,” he said. Brendon whirled around, wavering in his precarious position. The white light was replaced by canary yellow, a smile curling his pink lips.

“You’re here,” he cried, moving as though to step off the sill. An invisible force stopped him, pushing him back a little farther. “I can’t get off.”

Ryan stepped forward, but paused when Brendon held out his hand. Something felt off.

“Please, Ryan,” Brendon begged, his fingers stretching toward the nervous boy. “Save me.”

Taking a breath, Ryan grabbed Brendon’s hand. The glow filled Ryan from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, dulling his senses as he was pulled forward, tumbling with Brendon out of the open window.

Everything hurt, his head, his back, his legs, his arms, every one of his teeth. It felt like he’d landed on a slab of concrete, and for all he knew, he had. He couldn’t see when he was descending. The only sense that had remained was Brendon’s hand in his as they plummeted to the ground. He could still feel it. As he forced his pained eyes open, he found himself staring at pure white, a ceiling of sorts hanging over his head.

“Oh my god, Ryan!” a voice shouted. “You’re finally awake!”

Blinking hard, Ryan let his eyes focus on the blue-eyed boy that had plagued his dreams. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out other than a dry wheeze. His chest ached as he coughed, his throat too dry to form any words. The grip on his hand vanished as the blue-eyed boy moved away, returning to Ryan’s line of vision with a cup of water. It felt like he would die of thirst as soon as the liquid touched his tongue. His eyes closed again as he swallowed, and the other boy said his name again, worry in his voice. Ryan forced his eyes open, squinting to try and remember his name.

“Spence?” he whispered. Spencer smiled tentatively, the sadness in his eyes lessening. “Where am I?”

“Northwest Hospital. Ryan, what were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan said honestly. He couldn’t remember the sequence of events that led him to be lying in a hospital bed. All he could remember was a fondness for Spencer and Northern Downpour.

“I'm going to go get the doctor, okay? I'll be right back.”

Ryan nodded, immediately regretting it as he hissed in pain. Spencer squeezed his hand once more then departed. Thoughts of Brendon flooded Ryan’s mind, his eyes watering as he realized he wasn’t real. Northern Downpour wasn’t real. A man in a white coat, the one from Ryan’s last dream, walked into the room, followed by Spencer. The doctor was blonde, with a round face and muddy eyes.

“Patrick?” Ryan said, frowning. Surprised, the doctor stopped in his tracks.

“How did you know that?” he asked. Spencer looked between Ryan and the doctor. Ryan couldn’t believe it. Clearing his throat, Patrick walked up to Ryan’s bed. “I'm Dr. Stump, and yes, my name is Patrick.”

“Really?” Spencer asked. Ryan watched Patrick, Dr. Stump, with wide eyes. If he was real, that had to mean. No, it wasn’t possible.

“Really.”

“Who’s Pete?” Ryan asked. Patrick raised his eyebrows with alarm.

“Pete Wentz is the man that pushed you off the building,” he answered slowly. “Do you remember that?”

Shaking his head, Ryan was starting to panic. He couldn’t breathe and he could hear the heart monitor speeding up.

“Ryan, it’s okay, I promise,” Spencer said, coming to the other side of the bed. Ryan shook his head more violently. This wasn’t real. Northern Downpour was real, but this was not real. “Ryan, calm down.”

A new voice joined the commotion in the room. “What’s happening?”

For the briefest second, Ryan was able to calm himself enough to look around Patrick at the new arrival standing in the doorway. He was the most beautiful sight Ryan thought had ever seen, messy brown hair falling into a face dominated by brown eyes and full lips. Brendon. Immediately, Ryan burst into tears, wanting to hide his face but finding he didn’t have the energy to move his arms.

“I th-thought you were gone,” he managed through his sobs, keeping his eyes on Brendon as he walked forward. Spencer stepped aside

“You saved me,” Brendon said. His fingers were gentle as they brushed against Ryan’s cheeks. He looked down at the emotional boy, eyes shining with his own grateful tears. “Thank you.”

Choking out a laugh, Ryan nodded, tears still streaming down his face contrasting with the small smile. “It was no problem, I s-swear.”

He had been wrong with his thought about Brendon in the doorway. The smile Brendon gave him, that was easily the most beautiful thing in the world.