For Brendon.

Ryan recalls how he stayed on the kitchen floor for hours. He didn’t remove himself from the mess he was sitting on. He let the sharp edges of the ceramic pieces cut his skin. He let himself bleed and cry and stain the floor with the thought that Brendon left him. He didn’t move because Brendon left him at their house, their apartment, all because Ryan believed he was cheating. Brendon left him.

But Ryan also remembers Brendon coming home hours later.

-

“Ryan, what the hell?” Brendon screamed. “What are you doing?” Brendon dropped his backpack on the floor, and walked over the ceramic pieces of what used to be a coffee mug. He let it crunch under his shoes and break into smaller pieces. “Fuck, Ryan.”

Brendon crouched to the floor, and took shaky breaths. Ryan looked at Brendon with strain because he didn’t want to see Brendon’s face, he didn’t want to see what he was causing. But he did look up, and he did see Brendon’s red and swollen eyes, and the hurt that was etched into every single pore, every single inch of his face, because Brendon was never good at hiding his emotions.

“Ryan,” Brendon said, his voice soft and warm and everything Ryan loved. “Ryan, what did you do?”

“You left,” Ryan whimpered.

“Yeah, I left. I’m mad, Ryan,” Brendon said, but Ryan couldn’t hear the anger anymore.

“Why aren’t you mad?” Ryan asked, because he was good at reading Brendon, and Ryan knew he wasn’t mad. Not anymore.

Brendon smiled, the one that he saved for Ryan and only Ryan. The smile that made Ryan’s insides turn to jelly. He reached his hand out and ran it through Ryan’s hair. “Jon’s couch was lonely.”

And Ryan, Ryan believed him.

-

“Look,” Pete says. “I’m not a therapist. Nor am I someone who is qualified to be one or start giving out worthy advice. But dude, if you want to talk about it…I’ll have subjective opinions. I-you shouldn’t be embarrassed, you’ll never see me again.”

Ryan takes a deep breath and sits back down at the table. He doesn’t know where to start, because this isn’t something he just talks about. If he talks to anybody about it it’s Spencer or Jon. And they all know what happened. They all know what happened so he doesn’t have to talk about that part.

“I’ll…” Ryan says and squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re the only person besides my two friends who I’ve talked to about-about Brendon.”

“You don’t have to,” Pete replies quickly.

“No,” Ryan answers, shaking his head. “How about…how about we start from the beginning of the end.”

Pete gives Ryan a quizzical look. “The beginning of the end?”

“How Brendon died.”

-

Ryan was the last person to get the call. It wasn't even from Brendon's parents. It was from Brendon's co-worker who noticed that Ryan wasn't there. It was from Dallon, and Ryan cried because he held grudges over Dallon, even if Brendon wasn’t doing anything with him. It was just that Dallon, Dallon whom Ryan hated, called Ryan because he was nice, and said Ryan needed to know. He also had flight times written on a paper, which he recited to Ryan, and Ryan only cried harder.

When Ryan finally did get there (one canceled flight and four temper tantrums later) Ryan couldn't even do anything.

"Spencer," Ryan sobbed from the hospital lobby. He was shaking and had almost dropped the phone five times. "Spencer they won't even tell me what's wrong. And they didn't put me on the visitor’s list so I can't even go and see him, Spencer!"

"Ryan," Spencer said calmly. "Ryan, look. Talk to Jon, okay I'm buying plane tickets to get over there."

Ryan waited until Jon said his name to begin again, this time his voice was on the edge of hysteria. "Jon, they can't do this to me."

"I know," Jon said, voice quiet. "It'll be okay, we're coming over. Just breathe."

Ryan listened, trying to calm himself. It was hard because Brendon was in the fucking hospital and he had no clue why and no one would talk to him. Brendon's dad just completely ignored Ryan, and his mom couldn't have glared any harder.

"Jon, Jon. Wait Kate's walking over, I- I'll call you later," Ryan chocked, and shut the phone. He stood up and walked across the lobby to meet her.

She glanced over her shoulder quickly before meeting Ryan's eyes. They were just as red and puffy as Ryan’s.

"Ryan, I shouldn't be doing this," she said.

"I know," he said softly, and wiped the tears off his cheeks. "Kate I can't-"

"Ryan."

All the energy drained from Ryan when her eyes filled with tears. His voice was barely audible when he asked, "What happened?"

"He got...he got sick," she whispered back. "One of the co-workers noticed he wasn't himself and - and apparently he was throwing up, and. And they thought he had phenomena, so they took him to an urgent care. They gave him this medicine and." She started sobbing.

Ryan reached out to pull her into a hug. "Kate," he said, exasperated.

She sniffled, and placed her face in his sweatshirt. He thought it was the ugliest thing in the world but when he got the call he didn't care, because Brendon was in the hospital and he needed to see him. Changing before he left was the last thing on his mind.

"He was allergic to the medication and no one knew. He...he had the worst possible reaction, Ryan. He's...he's on life support and. And mom and dad are gunna - gunna pull the plug."



Later, but before Spencer and Jon arrived, when Mr. and Mrs. Urie were back in the lobby, Ryan had a mental break down.

"God's fucking plan?" he screamed. "How can God's fucking plan be letting your son die? You can't kill him!"

Mr. Urie stepped towards Ryan, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. "You are a child of the devil. You turned my son into one of you - you diseased, sick fag."

"You are a poor excuse of a religious person! Aren't you all supposed to be caring and nice? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You are sinful. You and your alcoholic father, both. You had no right to change my son into another devil-span."

"Fuck you," Ryan cried. He wiped hastily at the tears falling from his eyes. "I love him just as much as you do. More than you do."