PATD: Blue Rock - 2/? - Gen for Now
Aug. 6th, 2009 08:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laniew1I wonder if I’ll ever be able to write a story that doesn’t end up having a supernatural/fantasy bend to it…
Part 1 is now under a tag: You should read it first: Blue Rock
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Ryan/?
AUTHOR: Melanie
WARNINGS: This didn’t happen?
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of these boys. If you recognize your name press the back button right on out.
Chapter 1
Ryan knows they’re being photographed. He doesn’t even know how he got recognized, he thinks he looks about as far from normal as he could get on such short notice, he’s got on baggy jeans that he’s pretty sure are not his and a t-shirt that he’s almost positive was one of Jon’s, when it gets cold he pulls on a jean jacket that he’d found in the back of his closet when he was packing his duffel bag.
They’re not really going anywhere specific, at least he doesn’t think so anyway, maybe the egg rock thing will tell them differently eventually.
The fact that their destination is dependent on what they’re assuming are the whims of a rock means that Ryan was right and he’s going nuts.
But so is Brent, so at least he’s not going making the trip by himself.
They drive during the day, taking turns behind the wheel, making left turns and right turns based solely on the pleased humming in their heads. He might be going crazy but Ryan’s just pretty glad that he’s not the only one that can hear it.
The stop at night in cheap roadside motels and watch bad late night television. That first night, standing at opposite sides of the double beds they determine that they’ll take turns keeping the egg at night, he has to draw a line somewhere and sharing a bed with Brent after they’ve not spoken for years is where he’s putting his foot down.
The decision doesn’t make it through the night, they both toss and turn and he’s pretty sure that the pouting in his head is the egg. Which of course doesn’t make him any less crazy.
Brent ends up climbing out of his bed and sleeping on the very edge of Ryan’s. They get rooms with one big bed now and he’s pretty sure that’ll end up on a journal somewhere eventually.
It’s the most fun he’s had; the most comfortable he’s been with Brent since everything went to shit all those years ago.
He wonders sometimes how long Brent had been hearing voices, why he heard them so much sooner then Ryan evidently did. But then maybe his own voice in his head had drowned out all others, at least until they couldn’t be drowned out any longer.
“How many pictures of us do you think are up now?” Brent asks. The fans taking pictures are in way discreet, they’re kind of obvious actually and Ryan’s actually waved at a couple of them. He doesn’t think they’re getting pictures taken at every rest stop they stop at (Brent has a bladder the size of a pea evidently) but its pretty close. Sometimes he thinks they’re being followed but its always different cars, different people. Maybe they’ve set up some elaborate phone tree or something to let others know in what direction they’re heading that day.
He would think that people have better things to do with their time, but he would evidently be wrong there.
Brent finds it amusing as hell, he’s been out of the public eye for too long or he’d probably feel it was invasive, like Ryan does.
He doesn’t need documented proof on his trip to insanity.
Brent is in the passenger seat, because it’s Ryan’s turn to drive. They’ve got another 2 hours before they’ll start looking for a motel to stop at.
Brent has the egg in his lap, Ryan checks to make sure it’s still there. That it’s okay.
He’d bought a basket, used one of his old scarves as bedding, but it lays unused in the backseat, they both feel more comfortable actually holding onto the egg.
When Brent had shown up that was the first thing Brent had made him do, find the egg rock thing that Brent thought might be the cause of their slow slide into madness.
It had looked more like a rock instead of the egg that Ryan remembers finding with him, there was hardly any blue left in it at all and it had been cold and heavy in his hands when he took it out of the box in the back of his closet.
He’s not even sure why he still had it, why he could never bring himself to get rid of it. Every time he’d looked at it he was reminded of finding it with Brent, but he couldn’t ever just throw it out, something always stopped him. But he also couldn’t handle the reminders so he buried it until he couldn’t be reminded of that anymore.
The item lying in Brent’s lap looks more like the egg Ryan remembers, except less dirty, the blue is even brighter and whenever its Ryan’s turn in the passenger seat it is warm against his fingertips.
It feels alive.
Ryan can’t explain it, but then both him and Brent are going crazy so maybe this is just another sign.
“We’ve been on the road for a week, if there’s not a journal dedicated to detailing our complete nonsensical journey in pictures I’d be shocked,” Ryan thinks that some of their fans would put actual convicted stalkers to shame.
Of course this is him and most of his fans are completely disappointed in him at the moment, they might not even care.
He doesn’t say that out loud, because it’ll make it true.
“I’m surprised you haven’t got a half dozen calls from everyone, do you even have your phone on?” Brent muses. Ryan wrinkles his nose, clenches his hands around the steering wheel until his knuckles go white.
“I, uh, kind of left my phone on my kitchen table,” Ryan says quietly, the words a rush of air blowing past his lips.
Brent just looks at him and leans forward, for some reason he keeps his cell in the glove compartment.
Ryan doesn’t ask.
He thumbs it on and sighs.
“Well what was I going to say…” Ryan starts. “We think that the blue egg rock thing that we found a million years ago is slowly driving Brent and I insane, sorry?”
“You could have at least mentioned that you were going to be out of radio contact, they’re going to think I kidnapped you,” Brent mutters.
“Not likely,” Ryan states. “I haven’t even talked to Spencer or Brendon in a couple of weeks, and Jon knew that I needed to take some time off… they probably haven’t even noticed.”
“If there are pictures on the net, they’ve noticed,” Brent says. They don’t know for sure that there are pictures, Brent has brought his laptop with him but they’ve neither one been inclined to boot it up and find out.
“And the like six thousand missed calls from Brendon and Spencer and Pete would probably beg to differ as well; also, how the hell does Jon Walker even have the number to my phone?”
“If Brendon and Spencer have it, then they probably told Jon.”
Brent huffs; he drops his phone in the center console and scoops the egg up in one hand, shifting until he can reach into the back seat. He keeps his laptop there. Ryan has a feeling that next motel will have to have a wireless connection before Brent will allow them to check in, and that Brent will be hovering over it once they’re settled in their room.
“You should probably call them once we check in,” Brent says. He puts the laptop bag down by his feet and settles the egg again.
“Why?” Brendon and Spencer are on tour; Jon has probably flown out to be with them. Everyone is exactly where they should be.
They’ve already cut their ties and Ryan doesn’t want them to watch him go crazy.
“So you can tell them that I haven’t murdered you and left your body on the sound of the road.”
Ryan frowns.
“I’m pretty sure that they’re not worried about that.”
******************************************************************************
It’s like the egg knows it running out of time (if Ryan calls Spencer they’ll end up going their separate ways, Ryan knows this because he knows that Spencer hasn’t been able to speak Brent’s name without a sneer since they kicked him out and there’s no way that Spencer is going to let Ryan keep traveling with him even if Spencer doesn’t want him traveling with him either) because forty-five minutes shy of when they would start looking for a motel for the night, the egg starts shaking in Brent’s lap and Ryan slams on the brakes.
The car behind them swerves and honks, Ryan can hear yelling as it pulls past them, he slowly eases the car over to the shoulder and puts it into park.
They both stare at the egg with wide eyes, Brent has one hand braced against the dashboard and the other is hovering over the egg. Ryan reaches out a hand and even though he doesn’t actually touch it the egg shakes just that much more.
“We need to,” Brent says vaguely.
“Yeah,” Ryan says. He carefully puts the car into drive, places both hands on the steering wheel, checks the mirror and pulls out.
He drives calmly, obeying every posted speed limit sign and he doesn’t once look at the egg that is jumping around like a Mexican jumping bean in Brent’s hands now.
Brent is murmuring softly to it, like it’s a baby and it can hear its parents voices.
He’s not saying anything, just nonsense syllables interspersed with ‘just a bit longer’.
Ryan really thought they were going crazy and it was just a rock that cleaned up really nice.
Ryan pulls off into a rest stop and parks as far as he can away from other people and other cars, puts the car into park. Turns it off, pockets the keys.
It’s just getting to be dusk, they’re completely screwed if he’s recognized or if there’s enough light for people to see the egg dancing around in Brent’s hands.
He pulls his hat down further onto his head and gets out, goes around and opens Brent’s door.
He has his hands full; it’s the only sensible, right thing to do.
They walk a distance away, heading toward the tree line and when Ryan can’t see the car or the rest area or hear anything but his and Brent’s breathing he stops.
Flops down on the ground, legs crossed, Brent mimics him and places the egg on the ground between them.
They watch for a few minutes. Waiting.
Ryan jerks when he sees the first crack appear in the egg, Brent’s shaking and there’s another crack, and another.
Ryan links his fingers together and waits, shakes his head when Brent’s hand reaches out to help the egg peel apart.
Obviously he’s going to be the stern parent and Brent’s going to be the pushover.
He wonders what kind of bird it’s going to be.
The first bit of shell comes off and a little foot pops out, pushing and pushing against the remainder until finally a head appears.
He hears Brent’s indrawn breath of shock, as the rest of the egg falls away, can feel his own jaw dropping open.
“Is that a…” Brent says breathlessly.
Ryan doesn’t know how he knows, he knows it’s not a bird though, not a lizard, not anything that he’s seen in any book of real creatures, not anything that anybody and their brother can see in a zoo or in the wild or ever.
This is something straight out of a fantasy book and…
“It’s a dragon.”
******************************************************************************
Spencer keeps trying Brent’s cell phone even though Brent is apparently ignoring it. There’s a possibility that Brent doesn’t have a cell phone, but Spencer refuses to believe that. Bronx would have a cell phone but Ashlee refuses to let Pete buy him one until he can dial the numbers by himself and isn’t inclined to chew on it.
The only phone that Jon found in Ryan’s house was Ryan’s, placed directly in the center of Ryan’s kitchen table. Jon had taken a picture of it and sent it to him, so that Spencer could see that Ryan not having his phone was probably less ‘forgot it’ and more ‘didn’t want you to be able to call me and tell me I’m being an idiot’.
“Someone’s created a journal for everyone to post their Ryan and Brent roadtrip pictures to,” Pete says. He has the journal open and Spencer can see the top of one picture.
The journal is titled Ryan & Brent’s Wild Adventure.
Somebody has too much time on their hands and Spencer wouldn’t put it past Pete to be that person, to create a journal primarily to track Ryan and Brent’s steps. Pete’s a control freak and Ryan is pretty far out of Pete’s control right now, has been for a while.
He rubs his head and glares at his phone.
Ryan not having his phone was almost understandable. He doesn’t want Spencer to be able to lecture him. Spencer gets that even if he doesn’t like it.
Brent should still be answering his though.
“They checked into a motel about an hour ago,” Pete says. Spencer looks at the screen and there are two pictures of Ryan and Brent, heads bent close together walking toward the motel office and then standing in front of what was obviously their room for the night, Ryan has a backpack slung over his shoulder and Brent is carrying a duffel bag and a laptop case.
The pictures had been posted about 26 minutes prior. Spencer thinks that Pete has the journal tagged to send him e-mails when it’s updated.
They both still look calm and relaxed, Spencer can tell even in the blurry pictures. Spencer grips the hand not holding his phone into a fist, it’s not fair that Brent and Ryan are all happy and content and they’re freaking out because the last person in the world that Ryan should be with is Brent.
“Still no answer?” Pete asks, he nods his head toward the phone in Spencer’s hand.
Spencer shakes his head. “At this point it feels like they’re deliberately ignoring us.”
Spencer hasn’t been deliberately ignored by Ryan since they were kids and Spencer told Ryan that maybe he should come live with his family so Ryan’s dad wouldn’t have him there to hit.
Spencer had promised to never say it again, had never offered again. Hadn’t said anything when Ryan started climbing through his bedroom window and curled up on the floor to sleep, when he wore long sleeved shirts with high collars and makeup to hide the bruises that his father left on him.
Spencer’s phone ringing startles him, he hadn’t been expecting it because Jon had just checked in an hour prior and Brendon is off playing kickball with Joe and a bunch of techs.
And Brent and Ryan are too busy doing whatever the hell it is they’re doing to be bothered to return any of the voice mails he’s left.
He looks at the display and almost drops it when he sees Brent’s name.
“Hello?” he answers. He keeps his voice calm because getting angry is not going to solve anything at this point.
Even though anger would feel really fucking good right now.
“Spence?” It’s Ryan’s voice on the other end and he sounds completely normal. Spencer had sort of wanted him to sound frazzled and completely freaked out so he could be justified in calling the police.
“Ryan,” Spencer says. He doesn’t say anything else, when he looks over Pete is watching him intently.
“What’s up?” Ryan asks. Spencer wants to pull the phone away from his ear to glare at it. Because is Ryan kidding? ‘What’s up?’
“What’s up? What’s up?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“Well, you called,” Ryan says. He sounds kind of confused. Like he can’t think of any reason for Spencer to be calling him.
Spencer takes several deep breaths, reaching through the phone and throttling Ryan was completely not an option and not really possible even if it was.
“Why are you with Brent?” Spencer asks. He thinks it’s a completely valid question. Direct and to the point.
“He stopped by, we talked, we decided to take a road trip,” Spencer knows that Ryan is shrugging on the other end of the phone.
“He stopped by,” Spencer says. “Brent lives in fucking Vegas, how the hell did he just stop by?”
“Spencer,” Ryan sighs. Like Spencer is completely missing the point of everything, Spencer isn’t missing the point because there doesn’t seem to be a point.
“Maybe you should come here,” Spencer says.
It’s a good idea now that he thinks about; maybe if they get Ryan back under their roof they can figure out how much damage Brent has managed to do. He’d probably gotten to Ryan when Ryan had been under the influence of something. Possibly Ryan has been in contact with Brent for a lot longer then Spencer thinks, maybe Brent’s the reason that Ryan’s been losing his mind over the last 6 months and doing things that go against every moral fiber that Spencer thought that Ryan had.
Spencer can’t think of any other reason that Ryan would think going on a road trip with Brent would be even sort of a good idea.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ryan says. “Besides I think we’re getting ready to at least head in the direction of Vegas in a couple of days… Brent didn’t really pack for a road trip so he’s almost out of jeans and t-shirts.”
“Ryan…” Spencer starts.
“Look, I’ll call you in a couple of days, okay?” Ryan says. Spencer doesn’t even get a chance to breathe a syllable before the phone is dead in his hand.
Spencer looks over at Pete helplessly.
“I’ll call someone, they shouldn’t be that hard to track down, the fangirls are kind of making it little to easy for us,” Pete says, reaching for the phone.
“Have Zack go,” Spencer says. If anyone can bring Ryan to heel it’ll be Zack.
They probably should have done that as soon as Ryan decided that cheating on Keltie and taking pictures with drugs was a good idea, but even Zack deserves a vacation from the insanity that is them once in a while.
******************************************************************************
Part 1 is now under a tag: You should read it first: Blue Rock
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Ryan/?
AUTHOR: Melanie
WARNINGS: This didn’t happen?
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of these boys. If you recognize your name press the back button right on out.
Chapter 1
Ryan knows they’re being photographed. He doesn’t even know how he got recognized, he thinks he looks about as far from normal as he could get on such short notice, he’s got on baggy jeans that he’s pretty sure are not his and a t-shirt that he’s almost positive was one of Jon’s, when it gets cold he pulls on a jean jacket that he’d found in the back of his closet when he was packing his duffel bag.
They’re not really going anywhere specific, at least he doesn’t think so anyway, maybe the egg rock thing will tell them differently eventually.
The fact that their destination is dependent on what they’re assuming are the whims of a rock means that Ryan was right and he’s going nuts.
But so is Brent, so at least he’s not going making the trip by himself.
They drive during the day, taking turns behind the wheel, making left turns and right turns based solely on the pleased humming in their heads. He might be going crazy but Ryan’s just pretty glad that he’s not the only one that can hear it.
The stop at night in cheap roadside motels and watch bad late night television. That first night, standing at opposite sides of the double beds they determine that they’ll take turns keeping the egg at night, he has to draw a line somewhere and sharing a bed with Brent after they’ve not spoken for years is where he’s putting his foot down.
The decision doesn’t make it through the night, they both toss and turn and he’s pretty sure that the pouting in his head is the egg. Which of course doesn’t make him any less crazy.
Brent ends up climbing out of his bed and sleeping on the very edge of Ryan’s. They get rooms with one big bed now and he’s pretty sure that’ll end up on a journal somewhere eventually.
It’s the most fun he’s had; the most comfortable he’s been with Brent since everything went to shit all those years ago.
He wonders sometimes how long Brent had been hearing voices, why he heard them so much sooner then Ryan evidently did. But then maybe his own voice in his head had drowned out all others, at least until they couldn’t be drowned out any longer.
“How many pictures of us do you think are up now?” Brent asks. The fans taking pictures are in way discreet, they’re kind of obvious actually and Ryan’s actually waved at a couple of them. He doesn’t think they’re getting pictures taken at every rest stop they stop at (Brent has a bladder the size of a pea evidently) but its pretty close. Sometimes he thinks they’re being followed but its always different cars, different people. Maybe they’ve set up some elaborate phone tree or something to let others know in what direction they’re heading that day.
He would think that people have better things to do with their time, but he would evidently be wrong there.
Brent finds it amusing as hell, he’s been out of the public eye for too long or he’d probably feel it was invasive, like Ryan does.
He doesn’t need documented proof on his trip to insanity.
Brent is in the passenger seat, because it’s Ryan’s turn to drive. They’ve got another 2 hours before they’ll start looking for a motel to stop at.
Brent has the egg in his lap, Ryan checks to make sure it’s still there. That it’s okay.
He’d bought a basket, used one of his old scarves as bedding, but it lays unused in the backseat, they both feel more comfortable actually holding onto the egg.
When Brent had shown up that was the first thing Brent had made him do, find the egg rock thing that Brent thought might be the cause of their slow slide into madness.
It had looked more like a rock instead of the egg that Ryan remembers finding with him, there was hardly any blue left in it at all and it had been cold and heavy in his hands when he took it out of the box in the back of his closet.
He’s not even sure why he still had it, why he could never bring himself to get rid of it. Every time he’d looked at it he was reminded of finding it with Brent, but he couldn’t ever just throw it out, something always stopped him. But he also couldn’t handle the reminders so he buried it until he couldn’t be reminded of that anymore.
The item lying in Brent’s lap looks more like the egg Ryan remembers, except less dirty, the blue is even brighter and whenever its Ryan’s turn in the passenger seat it is warm against his fingertips.
It feels alive.
Ryan can’t explain it, but then both him and Brent are going crazy so maybe this is just another sign.
“We’ve been on the road for a week, if there’s not a journal dedicated to detailing our complete nonsensical journey in pictures I’d be shocked,” Ryan thinks that some of their fans would put actual convicted stalkers to shame.
Of course this is him and most of his fans are completely disappointed in him at the moment, they might not even care.
He doesn’t say that out loud, because it’ll make it true.
“I’m surprised you haven’t got a half dozen calls from everyone, do you even have your phone on?” Brent muses. Ryan wrinkles his nose, clenches his hands around the steering wheel until his knuckles go white.
“I, uh, kind of left my phone on my kitchen table,” Ryan says quietly, the words a rush of air blowing past his lips.
Brent just looks at him and leans forward, for some reason he keeps his cell in the glove compartment.
Ryan doesn’t ask.
He thumbs it on and sighs.
“Well what was I going to say…” Ryan starts. “We think that the blue egg rock thing that we found a million years ago is slowly driving Brent and I insane, sorry?”
“You could have at least mentioned that you were going to be out of radio contact, they’re going to think I kidnapped you,” Brent mutters.
“Not likely,” Ryan states. “I haven’t even talked to Spencer or Brendon in a couple of weeks, and Jon knew that I needed to take some time off… they probably haven’t even noticed.”
“If there are pictures on the net, they’ve noticed,” Brent says. They don’t know for sure that there are pictures, Brent has brought his laptop with him but they’ve neither one been inclined to boot it up and find out.
“And the like six thousand missed calls from Brendon and Spencer and Pete would probably beg to differ as well; also, how the hell does Jon Walker even have the number to my phone?”
“If Brendon and Spencer have it, then they probably told Jon.”
Brent huffs; he drops his phone in the center console and scoops the egg up in one hand, shifting until he can reach into the back seat. He keeps his laptop there. Ryan has a feeling that next motel will have to have a wireless connection before Brent will allow them to check in, and that Brent will be hovering over it once they’re settled in their room.
“You should probably call them once we check in,” Brent says. He puts the laptop bag down by his feet and settles the egg again.
“Why?” Brendon and Spencer are on tour; Jon has probably flown out to be with them. Everyone is exactly where they should be.
They’ve already cut their ties and Ryan doesn’t want them to watch him go crazy.
“So you can tell them that I haven’t murdered you and left your body on the sound of the road.”
Ryan frowns.
“I’m pretty sure that they’re not worried about that.”
It’s like the egg knows it running out of time (if Ryan calls Spencer they’ll end up going their separate ways, Ryan knows this because he knows that Spencer hasn’t been able to speak Brent’s name without a sneer since they kicked him out and there’s no way that Spencer is going to let Ryan keep traveling with him even if Spencer doesn’t want him traveling with him either) because forty-five minutes shy of when they would start looking for a motel for the night, the egg starts shaking in Brent’s lap and Ryan slams on the brakes.
The car behind them swerves and honks, Ryan can hear yelling as it pulls past them, he slowly eases the car over to the shoulder and puts it into park.
They both stare at the egg with wide eyes, Brent has one hand braced against the dashboard and the other is hovering over the egg. Ryan reaches out a hand and even though he doesn’t actually touch it the egg shakes just that much more.
“We need to,” Brent says vaguely.
“Yeah,” Ryan says. He carefully puts the car into drive, places both hands on the steering wheel, checks the mirror and pulls out.
He drives calmly, obeying every posted speed limit sign and he doesn’t once look at the egg that is jumping around like a Mexican jumping bean in Brent’s hands now.
Brent is murmuring softly to it, like it’s a baby and it can hear its parents voices.
He’s not saying anything, just nonsense syllables interspersed with ‘just a bit longer’.
Ryan really thought they were going crazy and it was just a rock that cleaned up really nice.
Ryan pulls off into a rest stop and parks as far as he can away from other people and other cars, puts the car into park. Turns it off, pockets the keys.
It’s just getting to be dusk, they’re completely screwed if he’s recognized or if there’s enough light for people to see the egg dancing around in Brent’s hands.
He pulls his hat down further onto his head and gets out, goes around and opens Brent’s door.
He has his hands full; it’s the only sensible, right thing to do.
They walk a distance away, heading toward the tree line and when Ryan can’t see the car or the rest area or hear anything but his and Brent’s breathing he stops.
Flops down on the ground, legs crossed, Brent mimics him and places the egg on the ground between them.
They watch for a few minutes. Waiting.
Ryan jerks when he sees the first crack appear in the egg, Brent’s shaking and there’s another crack, and another.
Ryan links his fingers together and waits, shakes his head when Brent’s hand reaches out to help the egg peel apart.
Obviously he’s going to be the stern parent and Brent’s going to be the pushover.
He wonders what kind of bird it’s going to be.
The first bit of shell comes off and a little foot pops out, pushing and pushing against the remainder until finally a head appears.
He hears Brent’s indrawn breath of shock, as the rest of the egg falls away, can feel his own jaw dropping open.
“Is that a…” Brent says breathlessly.
Ryan doesn’t know how he knows, he knows it’s not a bird though, not a lizard, not anything that he’s seen in any book of real creatures, not anything that anybody and their brother can see in a zoo or in the wild or ever.
This is something straight out of a fantasy book and…
“It’s a dragon.”
Spencer keeps trying Brent’s cell phone even though Brent is apparently ignoring it. There’s a possibility that Brent doesn’t have a cell phone, but Spencer refuses to believe that. Bronx would have a cell phone but Ashlee refuses to let Pete buy him one until he can dial the numbers by himself and isn’t inclined to chew on it.
The only phone that Jon found in Ryan’s house was Ryan’s, placed directly in the center of Ryan’s kitchen table. Jon had taken a picture of it and sent it to him, so that Spencer could see that Ryan not having his phone was probably less ‘forgot it’ and more ‘didn’t want you to be able to call me and tell me I’m being an idiot’.
“Someone’s created a journal for everyone to post their Ryan and Brent roadtrip pictures to,” Pete says. He has the journal open and Spencer can see the top of one picture.
The journal is titled Ryan & Brent’s Wild Adventure.
Somebody has too much time on their hands and Spencer wouldn’t put it past Pete to be that person, to create a journal primarily to track Ryan and Brent’s steps. Pete’s a control freak and Ryan is pretty far out of Pete’s control right now, has been for a while.
He rubs his head and glares at his phone.
Ryan not having his phone was almost understandable. He doesn’t want Spencer to be able to lecture him. Spencer gets that even if he doesn’t like it.
Brent should still be answering his though.
“They checked into a motel about an hour ago,” Pete says. Spencer looks at the screen and there are two pictures of Ryan and Brent, heads bent close together walking toward the motel office and then standing in front of what was obviously their room for the night, Ryan has a backpack slung over his shoulder and Brent is carrying a duffel bag and a laptop case.
The pictures had been posted about 26 minutes prior. Spencer thinks that Pete has the journal tagged to send him e-mails when it’s updated.
They both still look calm and relaxed, Spencer can tell even in the blurry pictures. Spencer grips the hand not holding his phone into a fist, it’s not fair that Brent and Ryan are all happy and content and they’re freaking out because the last person in the world that Ryan should be with is Brent.
“Still no answer?” Pete asks, he nods his head toward the phone in Spencer’s hand.
Spencer shakes his head. “At this point it feels like they’re deliberately ignoring us.”
Spencer hasn’t been deliberately ignored by Ryan since they were kids and Spencer told Ryan that maybe he should come live with his family so Ryan’s dad wouldn’t have him there to hit.
Spencer had promised to never say it again, had never offered again. Hadn’t said anything when Ryan started climbing through his bedroom window and curled up on the floor to sleep, when he wore long sleeved shirts with high collars and makeup to hide the bruises that his father left on him.
Spencer’s phone ringing startles him, he hadn’t been expecting it because Jon had just checked in an hour prior and Brendon is off playing kickball with Joe and a bunch of techs.
And Brent and Ryan are too busy doing whatever the hell it is they’re doing to be bothered to return any of the voice mails he’s left.
He looks at the display and almost drops it when he sees Brent’s name.
“Hello?” he answers. He keeps his voice calm because getting angry is not going to solve anything at this point.
Even though anger would feel really fucking good right now.
“Spence?” It’s Ryan’s voice on the other end and he sounds completely normal. Spencer had sort of wanted him to sound frazzled and completely freaked out so he could be justified in calling the police.
“Ryan,” Spencer says. He doesn’t say anything else, when he looks over Pete is watching him intently.
“What’s up?” Ryan asks. Spencer wants to pull the phone away from his ear to glare at it. Because is Ryan kidding? ‘What’s up?’
“What’s up? What’s up?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“Well, you called,” Ryan says. He sounds kind of confused. Like he can’t think of any reason for Spencer to be calling him.
Spencer takes several deep breaths, reaching through the phone and throttling Ryan was completely not an option and not really possible even if it was.
“Why are you with Brent?” Spencer asks. He thinks it’s a completely valid question. Direct and to the point.
“He stopped by, we talked, we decided to take a road trip,” Spencer knows that Ryan is shrugging on the other end of the phone.
“He stopped by,” Spencer says. “Brent lives in fucking Vegas, how the hell did he just stop by?”
“Spencer,” Ryan sighs. Like Spencer is completely missing the point of everything, Spencer isn’t missing the point because there doesn’t seem to be a point.
“Maybe you should come here,” Spencer says.
It’s a good idea now that he thinks about; maybe if they get Ryan back under their roof they can figure out how much damage Brent has managed to do. He’d probably gotten to Ryan when Ryan had been under the influence of something. Possibly Ryan has been in contact with Brent for a lot longer then Spencer thinks, maybe Brent’s the reason that Ryan’s been losing his mind over the last 6 months and doing things that go against every moral fiber that Spencer thought that Ryan had.
Spencer can’t think of any other reason that Ryan would think going on a road trip with Brent would be even sort of a good idea.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ryan says. “Besides I think we’re getting ready to at least head in the direction of Vegas in a couple of days… Brent didn’t really pack for a road trip so he’s almost out of jeans and t-shirts.”
“Ryan…” Spencer starts.
“Look, I’ll call you in a couple of days, okay?” Ryan says. Spencer doesn’t even get a chance to breathe a syllable before the phone is dead in his hand.
Spencer looks over at Pete helplessly.
“I’ll call someone, they shouldn’t be that hard to track down, the fangirls are kind of making it little to easy for us,” Pete says, reaching for the phone.
“Have Zack go,” Spencer says. If anyone can bring Ryan to heel it’ll be Zack.
They probably should have done that as soon as Ryan decided that cheating on Keltie and taking pictures with drugs was a good idea, but even Zack deserves a vacation from the insanity that is them once in a while.