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PATD/MCR/FOB - Constants 8/8 - PG-13 - Ryan/Bob, Pete/Patrick
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Minor family thing yesterday.
And we’re done… for now, there’ll be some ficlets (though can 5 pages of a word document for just one really be called a ficlet?) and there may be a Patrick/Pete prequel because once I have a universe I like mucking around in.
Anyway Psychics!
Read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6 & part 7 first.
Summary: Psychics were few and far between. For every one there was at least 150 trained Constants (that wasn’t counting the untrained Constants that could sometimes sneak in and lure a Psychic away).
TITLE: Constants
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Ryan/Bob, Pete/Patrick, Gerard/Frank, Mikey/Brendon, Cash/Alex
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Psychics were few and far between. For every one there was at least 150 trained Constants (that wasn’t counting the untrained Constants that could sometimes sneak in and lure a Psychic away).
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of these boys and I’m pretty sure that this has never happened.
Constants 8/8
The Psychics got jittery a week later.
Bob noticed like everyone else because even when they were in groups the Psychics would have their heads bent together.
No words being spoken out loud and Bob got used to seeing the hazy forms of Pete and Gerard and Mikey in his head.
They were worried but wouldn’t talk about it. Bob couldn’t tell if they thought speaking the words out loud was going to jinx whatever was going on. Or if they thought that there was a spy that was listening in on the words but didn’t have access to the thoughts.
Bob figured out what they were worried about when they started going down to the lower levels in groups of two (with their Constants alongside because they wouldn’t be going anywhere near where they’d been trapped before without them, alone).
They were testing structural integrity of the lower levels and Bob just didn’t know if they were testing it to create more room, or testing it to find out if they could use it as a safe haven.
******************************************************************************
Bob figured that if an attack was coming it would come while he and Ryan were separated. He tried to just keep Ryan by his side at all times, Ryan countered this by just not keeping Bob fully apprised of his whereabouts every second of every day then primly reminding him that he wasn’t five and was fully capable of going to the bathroom by himself.
“We’ll get attacked even if you manage to surgically implant yourself onto my side,” Ryan said seriously. At least Bob hoped it was seriously, sometimes it was hard to tell when Ryan was serious and when he was poking fun because the inflection of his voice didn’t change.
“But at least you won’t be somewhere I’m not,” Bob said reasonably.
Ryan did poke fun at him then, rolling his eyes then climbing in his lap to make up for it. Bob backed off slightly, he didn’t want Ryan to start thinking that maybe he’d picked the wrong Constant.
So he’d known that when the attack came that he and Ryan would be separated.
He kind of hated being right.
The first bomb took out the back wall by the kitchen. The second took the area next to it which had been they gym.
Ryan was in the Infirmary sitting with William, and he was fine. He looked serene in Bob’s mind. Bob didn’t think that it might be a false image to keep him from losing his shit.
Pete and Mikey looked in the same direction at the same time, faces eerily calm.
“They’re inside,” they said at the same time. Same monotone and Patrick flinched and Frank and Brendon gasped at the same time that Bob saw the hazy forms of Pete and Mikey and Gerard appear beside Ryan in his mind. After a second William Beckett slowly materialized in there as well.
“That is so cool,” Brendon whispered, Bob saw Mikey reach out and take his hand. Squeeze it once.
“I’m going to get Ryan,” Bob announced heading toward the door.
Pete looked over at him, same calm expression on his face; he glanced over at where Gabe was leaning over Spencer’s shoulder pointing at something on the map on the complex.
“You’ll need help, take Gabe with you,” he said. Gabe looked over at the sound of his name.
“What?”
“Going, now,” Bob said, he pulled open the door and didn’t wait to see if Gabe followed. He knew he would.
******************************************************************************
There was a third explosion while they ran; Bob moved quickly through the halls, he’d grown up here, he’d know how to get where he needed to go even if he was blinded and deaf.
Bob kept his feet under him and only touched the wall to catch his balance when it attempted to knock him off his feet.
He knew this complex better then the home that his mother had lived in since he was five.
He saw Ryan and William moving toward them when they turned the hallway to get to the west side of the complex, where the Infirmary was housed. Where quarantine was housed.
He saw the people behind them a milli-second later.
These guys were not theirs, Bob could tell because even though they had guns drawn but they were pointed at Ryan and William.
Bob grabbed for Ryan’s hand and yanked him back around the corridor, saw from the corner of his eye Gabe do the same for William.
Heard the loud retort of guns firing at where they’d been just moments before.
In his head he could see Ryan clearly, could see the hazy forms of the others, all with hands joined.
Ryan stopped dead, William did the same.
Ryan was in front of him, William had Gabe behind him, hands still clasped.
There was yelling but all Bob could hear was the buzzing in his head, the scream of an alarm coming too late to warn for intruders, for destruction, ringing in his ears. Ryan was saying something, yelling something at those men standing in front of them, surrounding them.
Bob tried to move in front of Ryan, he was supposed to protect Ryan, not the other way around, he couldn’t move though. Was stuck with his hands on Ryan’s hips and he could feel the second that Ryan reached out with his mind.
He could feel the tug of William’s mind as William did the same, as Pete and Gerard and Mikey did the same from wherever they were in the complex.
Around him the air felt like Ryan, felt like he remembered Gerard feeling when he poked at his mind when Bob had been one of his Constants-in-waiting.
Ryan took a step back and Bob moved with him, it was agonizing, painful. Like walking through an ocean of molasses after having run ten miles.
Beside them William and Gabe were making the same slow, arduous steps.
They were moving though, the air that felt like Ryan and Gerard; like all their psychics letting them pass slowly even as it kept those that would harm them still, motionless.
In front of them, over Ryan’s shoulder Bob could see the confusion on the men’s faces. Could see where their arms trembled holding the guns up and he wondered why they hadn’t just pulled the triggers while they had the chance.
Wondered what Ryan and William and Pete and Gerard and Mikey were saying to them in their minds to make them lower their guns, to fall to their knees, to…
Bob felt more then heard the shot.
Felt Ryan jerk in front of him, felt William turn to catch him. Saw Gabe reach out at the same time for him.
Felt pain and fear.
Then…
Whiteout.
******************************************************************************
It was peaceful.
Just sitting there with Ryan’s head on his thigh, running his hand over Ryan’s hair.
It wasn’t real of course.
Besides the fact that it didn’t feel real, the chances that they would get this much alone time to just sit and be would be about the time when hell froze over. There was also the fact that he couldn’t feel the wall he was leaning against or Ryan’s hair, or the heat of Ryan’s head pressed to his thigh.
He couldn’t feel anything.
He didn’t think he was dead.
He was pretty sure of that actually because Pete was sitting cross-legged across from him and he kept telling Bob that he wasn’t dead like clockwork every couple of minutes.
“You’re not dead,” Pete said again. It was time 112 that he’d uttered those words since Bob had noticed him sitting there. Bob didn’t know how long he’d been there before Bob had actually seen him.
Bob stilled his hand on Ryan’s head.
“Ryan?” he asked. From the frustrated look on Pete’s face he was almost positive that they’d had this conversation before.
“He’s not dead either,” Pete said. He pressed his hands to the ground and inched a bit closer. Touched Ryan’s leg, they both watched Ryan twitch. Bob watched his chest rise and fall with even breaths.
“How are you here?” Bob asked.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, the two of you are just sleeping away, waiting for your true love kiss, unfortunately your true love is in a hospital bed a couple of feet away and is unable to perform that duty as required.”
“I’m not kissing you Pete,” Bob rolled his eyes, started running his hand over Ryan’s hair once more.
“Well no, Patrick would punch you if you tried,” Pete said.
“So what are you doing here then?” Bob asked. “Actually where is here?”
“We’re in Ross’ head. He’s in a coma, they think that if I can manage to get you to go back to your own head and wake up that he’ll follow suit.”
“How am I in Ryan’s head?” he asked, he’d never been able to do that before, always it had been Ryan in Bob’s head. Bob looked down at Ryan, he looked calm, peaceful. He watched for even breaths.
“We don’t know,” Pete said, he sounded truthful.
“I don’t want him to be alone,” Bob said.
“He won’t be; if this doesn’t work there’s a line of people that’ll keep him company in here till he’s ready to come back. But I’m right about this so… if he doesn’t wake up as soon as you do I’ll hold Patrick back and you can have a free shot,” Bob looked over at him, Pete looked sincere enough.
“You’re sure that Ryan isn’t dead?” he asked. Even though he knew the answer.
“If Ryan was dead you wouldn’t be able to see him,” Pete said matter-of-factly. “Plus you’d be in a suicidal depression.”
Bob nodded, “I need a minute,” he said. “Just… I need a minute.”
Pete smiled softly then faded away.
Bob leaned down, kissed Ryan gently on the cheek.
“You trust Pete and he seems to like you… so,” he said. He stroked a finger over Ryan’s lips and watched his lips twitch. “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”
He felt the world shift and shimmer and the not real feeling was replaced with a hell of a lot of pain.
******************************************************************************
Patrick was staring at him, waiting patiently. Bob blinked and shifted and turned his head.
He could see Ryan laying on a bed a couple of feet away, Spencer was sitting at the foot of it, Pete was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand was laid over Ryan’s and the only thing that kept Bob from flinging off the blanket tucked around him was the fact that Pete looked like he hadn’t slept in about a month.
And that he hurt.
“Is he?” he asked. Ryan still had his eyes closed, in his mind Ryan was curled up in a ball eyes closed as well. He wasn’t completely there; he was sort of hazy, like Ryan was in a place between unconsciousness and waking.
Bob waited. Stared at Ryan, watched the even rise and fall of his chest, waited.
Alex was sitting at the foot of his bed looking like he hadn’t slept in a good month or so. Cash was sitting next to him, arm over his shoulder and looked just as bad. They were staring at Ryan as well.
He saw the instant that Ryan trembled, in his mind Ryan snapped into place. No longer hazy and half there, but there and in pain.
Ryan’s lips parted and he said something that he didn’t think anyone heard. In his mind Ryan was looking at him and patting the place in his pile of blankets beside him.
Bob shifted and winced, Patrick helped him get up and he wondered why he was in such pain when Ryan was the one that had been shot.
Big protector he was. He let his Psychic get shot, because he’d let his Psychic protect him when it should have been the other way around. Should always be the other way around.
Patrick and Cash helped him over to Ryan’s bed. No one mentioned the hospital gown and the fact that it was flapping open in the back.
There’d be snide remarks later he was sure. That’s what friends did.
He curled up on the bed beside Ryan, hoped that he didn’t have to make that trip again any time soon. Ryan half-turned into him, making a low sound of pain, he hid his face in Bob’s shoulder, wrapped an arm over his chest.
Bob closed his eyes and tried not to move Ryan anymore then he needed to.
Ryan was tired and he hurt; with Bob next to him finally Ryan felt safe and loved.
He could tell everyone was staring at them, eventually someone would tell them that it was creepy and move them along; Bob figured it would be Brian and would probably be in about thirty minutes.
With Ryan beside him though, warm and content for the time being, he could relax.
They slept.
******************************************************************************
And we’re done… for now, there’ll be some ficlets (though can 5 pages of a word document for just one really be called a ficlet?) and there may be a Patrick/Pete prequel because once I have a universe I like mucking around in.
Anyway Psychics!
Read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6 & part 7 first.
Summary: Psychics were few and far between. For every one there was at least 150 trained Constants (that wasn’t counting the untrained Constants that could sometimes sneak in and lure a Psychic away).
TITLE: Constants
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Ryan/Bob, Pete/Patrick, Gerard/Frank, Mikey/Brendon, Cash/Alex
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Psychics were few and far between. For every one there was at least 150 trained Constants (that wasn’t counting the untrained Constants that could sometimes sneak in and lure a Psychic away).
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of these boys and I’m pretty sure that this has never happened.
Constants 8/8
The Psychics got jittery a week later.
Bob noticed like everyone else because even when they were in groups the Psychics would have their heads bent together.
No words being spoken out loud and Bob got used to seeing the hazy forms of Pete and Gerard and Mikey in his head.
They were worried but wouldn’t talk about it. Bob couldn’t tell if they thought speaking the words out loud was going to jinx whatever was going on. Or if they thought that there was a spy that was listening in on the words but didn’t have access to the thoughts.
Bob figured out what they were worried about when they started going down to the lower levels in groups of two (with their Constants alongside because they wouldn’t be going anywhere near where they’d been trapped before without them, alone).
They were testing structural integrity of the lower levels and Bob just didn’t know if they were testing it to create more room, or testing it to find out if they could use it as a safe haven.
Bob figured that if an attack was coming it would come while he and Ryan were separated. He tried to just keep Ryan by his side at all times, Ryan countered this by just not keeping Bob fully apprised of his whereabouts every second of every day then primly reminding him that he wasn’t five and was fully capable of going to the bathroom by himself.
“We’ll get attacked even if you manage to surgically implant yourself onto my side,” Ryan said seriously. At least Bob hoped it was seriously, sometimes it was hard to tell when Ryan was serious and when he was poking fun because the inflection of his voice didn’t change.
“But at least you won’t be somewhere I’m not,” Bob said reasonably.
Ryan did poke fun at him then, rolling his eyes then climbing in his lap to make up for it. Bob backed off slightly, he didn’t want Ryan to start thinking that maybe he’d picked the wrong Constant.
So he’d known that when the attack came that he and Ryan would be separated.
He kind of hated being right.
The first bomb took out the back wall by the kitchen. The second took the area next to it which had been they gym.
Ryan was in the Infirmary sitting with William, and he was fine. He looked serene in Bob’s mind. Bob didn’t think that it might be a false image to keep him from losing his shit.
Pete and Mikey looked in the same direction at the same time, faces eerily calm.
“They’re inside,” they said at the same time. Same monotone and Patrick flinched and Frank and Brendon gasped at the same time that Bob saw the hazy forms of Pete and Mikey and Gerard appear beside Ryan in his mind. After a second William Beckett slowly materialized in there as well.
“That is so cool,” Brendon whispered, Bob saw Mikey reach out and take his hand. Squeeze it once.
“I’m going to get Ryan,” Bob announced heading toward the door.
Pete looked over at him, same calm expression on his face; he glanced over at where Gabe was leaning over Spencer’s shoulder pointing at something on the map on the complex.
“You’ll need help, take Gabe with you,” he said. Gabe looked over at the sound of his name.
“What?”
“Going, now,” Bob said, he pulled open the door and didn’t wait to see if Gabe followed. He knew he would.
There was a third explosion while they ran; Bob moved quickly through the halls, he’d grown up here, he’d know how to get where he needed to go even if he was blinded and deaf.
Bob kept his feet under him and only touched the wall to catch his balance when it attempted to knock him off his feet.
He knew this complex better then the home that his mother had lived in since he was five.
He saw Ryan and William moving toward them when they turned the hallway to get to the west side of the complex, where the Infirmary was housed. Where quarantine was housed.
He saw the people behind them a milli-second later.
These guys were not theirs, Bob could tell because even though they had guns drawn but they were pointed at Ryan and William.
Bob grabbed for Ryan’s hand and yanked him back around the corridor, saw from the corner of his eye Gabe do the same for William.
Heard the loud retort of guns firing at where they’d been just moments before.
In his head he could see Ryan clearly, could see the hazy forms of the others, all with hands joined.
Ryan stopped dead, William did the same.
Ryan was in front of him, William had Gabe behind him, hands still clasped.
There was yelling but all Bob could hear was the buzzing in his head, the scream of an alarm coming too late to warn for intruders, for destruction, ringing in his ears. Ryan was saying something, yelling something at those men standing in front of them, surrounding them.
Bob tried to move in front of Ryan, he was supposed to protect Ryan, not the other way around, he couldn’t move though. Was stuck with his hands on Ryan’s hips and he could feel the second that Ryan reached out with his mind.
He could feel the tug of William’s mind as William did the same, as Pete and Gerard and Mikey did the same from wherever they were in the complex.
Around him the air felt like Ryan, felt like he remembered Gerard feeling when he poked at his mind when Bob had been one of his Constants-in-waiting.
Ryan took a step back and Bob moved with him, it was agonizing, painful. Like walking through an ocean of molasses after having run ten miles.
Beside them William and Gabe were making the same slow, arduous steps.
They were moving though, the air that felt like Ryan and Gerard; like all their psychics letting them pass slowly even as it kept those that would harm them still, motionless.
In front of them, over Ryan’s shoulder Bob could see the confusion on the men’s faces. Could see where their arms trembled holding the guns up and he wondered why they hadn’t just pulled the triggers while they had the chance.
Wondered what Ryan and William and Pete and Gerard and Mikey were saying to them in their minds to make them lower their guns, to fall to their knees, to…
Bob felt more then heard the shot.
Felt Ryan jerk in front of him, felt William turn to catch him. Saw Gabe reach out at the same time for him.
Felt pain and fear.
Then…
Whiteout.
It was peaceful.
Just sitting there with Ryan’s head on his thigh, running his hand over Ryan’s hair.
It wasn’t real of course.
Besides the fact that it didn’t feel real, the chances that they would get this much alone time to just sit and be would be about the time when hell froze over. There was also the fact that he couldn’t feel the wall he was leaning against or Ryan’s hair, or the heat of Ryan’s head pressed to his thigh.
He couldn’t feel anything.
He didn’t think he was dead.
He was pretty sure of that actually because Pete was sitting cross-legged across from him and he kept telling Bob that he wasn’t dead like clockwork every couple of minutes.
“You’re not dead,” Pete said again. It was time 112 that he’d uttered those words since Bob had noticed him sitting there. Bob didn’t know how long he’d been there before Bob had actually seen him.
Bob stilled his hand on Ryan’s head.
“Ryan?” he asked. From the frustrated look on Pete’s face he was almost positive that they’d had this conversation before.
“He’s not dead either,” Pete said. He pressed his hands to the ground and inched a bit closer. Touched Ryan’s leg, they both watched Ryan twitch. Bob watched his chest rise and fall with even breaths.
“How are you here?” Bob asked.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, the two of you are just sleeping away, waiting for your true love kiss, unfortunately your true love is in a hospital bed a couple of feet away and is unable to perform that duty as required.”
“I’m not kissing you Pete,” Bob rolled his eyes, started running his hand over Ryan’s hair once more.
“Well no, Patrick would punch you if you tried,” Pete said.
“So what are you doing here then?” Bob asked. “Actually where is here?”
“We’re in Ross’ head. He’s in a coma, they think that if I can manage to get you to go back to your own head and wake up that he’ll follow suit.”
“How am I in Ryan’s head?” he asked, he’d never been able to do that before, always it had been Ryan in Bob’s head. Bob looked down at Ryan, he looked calm, peaceful. He watched for even breaths.
“We don’t know,” Pete said, he sounded truthful.
“I don’t want him to be alone,” Bob said.
“He won’t be; if this doesn’t work there’s a line of people that’ll keep him company in here till he’s ready to come back. But I’m right about this so… if he doesn’t wake up as soon as you do I’ll hold Patrick back and you can have a free shot,” Bob looked over at him, Pete looked sincere enough.
“You’re sure that Ryan isn’t dead?” he asked. Even though he knew the answer.
“If Ryan was dead you wouldn’t be able to see him,” Pete said matter-of-factly. “Plus you’d be in a suicidal depression.”
Bob nodded, “I need a minute,” he said. “Just… I need a minute.”
Pete smiled softly then faded away.
Bob leaned down, kissed Ryan gently on the cheek.
“You trust Pete and he seems to like you… so,” he said. He stroked a finger over Ryan’s lips and watched his lips twitch. “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”
He felt the world shift and shimmer and the not real feeling was replaced with a hell of a lot of pain.
Patrick was staring at him, waiting patiently. Bob blinked and shifted and turned his head.
He could see Ryan laying on a bed a couple of feet away, Spencer was sitting at the foot of it, Pete was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand was laid over Ryan’s and the only thing that kept Bob from flinging off the blanket tucked around him was the fact that Pete looked like he hadn’t slept in about a month.
And that he hurt.
“Is he?” he asked. Ryan still had his eyes closed, in his mind Ryan was curled up in a ball eyes closed as well. He wasn’t completely there; he was sort of hazy, like Ryan was in a place between unconsciousness and waking.
Bob waited. Stared at Ryan, watched the even rise and fall of his chest, waited.
Alex was sitting at the foot of his bed looking like he hadn’t slept in a good month or so. Cash was sitting next to him, arm over his shoulder and looked just as bad. They were staring at Ryan as well.
He saw the instant that Ryan trembled, in his mind Ryan snapped into place. No longer hazy and half there, but there and in pain.
Ryan’s lips parted and he said something that he didn’t think anyone heard. In his mind Ryan was looking at him and patting the place in his pile of blankets beside him.
Bob shifted and winced, Patrick helped him get up and he wondered why he was in such pain when Ryan was the one that had been shot.
Big protector he was. He let his Psychic get shot, because he’d let his Psychic protect him when it should have been the other way around. Should always be the other way around.
Patrick and Cash helped him over to Ryan’s bed. No one mentioned the hospital gown and the fact that it was flapping open in the back.
There’d be snide remarks later he was sure. That’s what friends did.
He curled up on the bed beside Ryan, hoped that he didn’t have to make that trip again any time soon. Ryan half-turned into him, making a low sound of pain, he hid his face in Bob’s shoulder, wrapped an arm over his chest.
Bob closed his eyes and tried not to move Ryan anymore then he needed to.
Ryan was tired and he hurt; with Bob next to him finally Ryan felt safe and loved.
He could tell everyone was staring at them, eventually someone would tell them that it was creepy and move them along; Bob figured it would be Brian and would probably be in about thirty minutes.
With Ryan beside him though, warm and content for the time being, he could relax.
They slept.