Slow
my medicine
The thing with Ryan is, is that the Alzheimer's is getting worse. And Brendon's knees are getting ready to give out on him (but he still doesn't regret all the time he spent on them for Ryan.)
-
"Ryan?" Brendon asks. "You want to have breakfast now?"
"Ryan..." Ryan says, like he is testing the word out for the first time.
Today, Brendon sighs, Ryan will not even remember himself.
-
Ryan walks around the house with this hazy look in his eyes, because he doesn't remember much anymore. And Brendon follows him with this slow, trudging walk because he refuses to get into a wheel chair, and a cane works just as fine, thank you very much.
-
"I forgot to take my medicine," Ryan blinks, and pushes the book off his lap. (And that secretly drives Brendon bananas because Ryan can't even sing the alphabet anymore, so how can he read?)
"No!" Brendon states, waving his hand around to get Ryan's attention, so he can buy himself some time to stand.
"I forgot to take my medicine," Ryan supplies again. He looks hurt when Brendon shakes his head no and grabs Ryan’s arms. He looks like he just got kicked in the stomach because he thought he finally remembered something.
"You took it with lunch," Brendon whispers, not adding remember? because he knows Ryan doesn't.
-
"Ryan?" Brendon calls out, dragging himself across the house. "Ryan did you forget how to turn the faucet off again?"
Brendon takes the silence as a yes, but Ryan isn't in the bathroom.
"Ryan?" Brendon calls out, voice tinted with worry.
And Brendon wants to curse the realtor who sold them this house thirty years ago because this stupid place is huge, and he walks so fucking slow.
He walks as slow as a snail, as slow as a turtle, as slow as his heart rate goes when he walks into the kitchen.
"Ryan, you already took your medicine."
But it doesn't matter, because Ryan didn't remember.
-
"Ryan?" Brendon asks. "You want to have breakfast now?"
"Ryan..." Ryan says, like he is testing the word out for the first time.
Today, Brendon sighs, Ryan will not even remember himself.
-
Ryan walks around the house with this hazy look in his eyes, because he doesn't remember much anymore. And Brendon follows him with this slow, trudging walk because he refuses to get into a wheel chair, and a cane works just as fine, thank you very much.
-
"I forgot to take my medicine," Ryan blinks, and pushes the book off his lap. (And that secretly drives Brendon bananas because Ryan can't even sing the alphabet anymore, so how can he read?)
"No!" Brendon states, waving his hand around to get Ryan's attention, so he can buy himself some time to stand.
"I forgot to take my medicine," Ryan supplies again. He looks hurt when Brendon shakes his head no and grabs Ryan’s arms. He looks like he just got kicked in the stomach because he thought he finally remembered something.
"You took it with lunch," Brendon whispers, not adding remember? because he knows Ryan doesn't.
-
"Ryan?" Brendon calls out, dragging himself across the house. "Ryan did you forget how to turn the faucet off again?"
Brendon takes the silence as a yes, but Ryan isn't in the bathroom.
"Ryan?" Brendon calls out, voice tinted with worry.
And Brendon wants to curse the realtor who sold them this house thirty years ago because this stupid place is huge, and he walks so fucking slow.
He walks as slow as a snail, as slow as a turtle, as slow as his heart rate goes when he walks into the kitchen.
"Ryan, you already took your medicine."
But it doesn't matter, because Ryan didn't remember.