This story is dedicated to two of the best people I know, Cryaesion and tryanforever91. You guys have been my rock and some of the best things to come out of joining . It has been an awesome six months knowing you guys, and I hope to continue knowing you for much longer. Cryaesion beta'd the initial plot, whilst tryanforever91 beta'd my draft. He has not seen this final copy yet, so blame all mistakes on me.
This story is the sequel to Lockdown. People can consider it a story on its own with Troy and Ryan having a pre-established relationship, but refers to events in Lockdown. The epilogue of Lockdown serves as a prologue for Stagnant Chaos and it is my recommendation that you read that you at least read that first, if not all of Lockdown. You can find the story on my profile page.
This story is of the slash variety. It contains relations between two males and may contain some mild coarse language. If any of this offends, then I recommend against reading.
The full disclaimer is at the bottom.
Stagnant Chaos by Tertiary Genesis
Chapter 1: Hospitals
--XxXxX--
Hospitals can be so off-putting. Most would say it is the sterility of the environment. Others would say that it is because there is so much illness and disease in the air. Hospitals tend to have a negative connotation attached to them. They seem to extract the happiness out of a person. When you find yourself in a hospital, it usually is not a good thing, and if you ever come across the elusive pocket of happiness from a family who has received tremendous news, you can always walk a few meters in any direction and pop that happy bubble with the words "passed away."
Death and misery constantly occupy hospitals, yet light pastel colors decorate their walls, as if in an attempt to negate the depressing effects of the building. The white wash on concrete walls mixed with the hushed tones and general quiet of the place gives an eerie ghostly sense, as if you are already dead even though you are not even a patient. Hospitals have never really been a good place.
Ryan Evans found himself in a waiting room of one of these unpleasant facilities. It had white fluorescent lights on the ceiling. One was flickering down some corridor. Ryan could not see the flickering light, but knew it was there because of how one of the walls seemed to flicker brighter, then darker. He could even hear it flicker from his seat.
The blond was sitting in one of the plastic chairs lining the walls and running across the room. This room had linoleum flooring that was light blue with some black specks. Ryan could see the scuff marks left by wheel chairs and wheeled beds. It was clear that the room had seen many people go through. Ryan was just another person the room was going to see go through.
"Is Cameron going to be all right, mommy?"
Ryan heard a little boy talking to his mother somewhere at the corner of their waiting room. The boy could not have been much older than four years of age and was sitting on his mother's lap. The mother was visibly trying to keep it together for her son but you could tell she was at the threshold of an emotional breakdown.
"I want him to be all right because he is my big brother," the boy simply stated before returning to playing with his action figures.
The mother just nodded to her son, pulled him closer to her body and held him in a loose embrace as she continued to stare out into space.
A nurse at the counter called a name, and the mother got up and led her son over to the blue counter top. The nurse and mother had a conversation as the boy tried his hardest to see over the counter, jumping up and down, asking his mother to pick him up. His pleas seemed ignored. The nurse handed the older woman some forms to sign. She did not look like she was told good news but she did not appear to have received bad news either.
Ryan found it easier to immerse himself in other people's lives rather than stewing in the juices of his own. He could not cope with the reality of what was happening to him at that moment, so he chose to examine someone else's. Pity, his life did not have the patience to wait around.
Jack Bolton entered the waiting room through a swinging door. He looked like he was expecting someone, and in a great deal of stress.
Ryan approached the man tentatively. "Is he alright? Could I go see him?"
The Wildcats coach gave him a blank expression before replying. "No, Ryan," he said simply. There was a barely detectable trace of anger in his voice. Most would not notice it at all, but it was there.
--
The paramedics and police had arrived well before the cancellation of the Lockdown Protocol. Ryan could see the flashing lights and could hear the sirens of the emergency response. There was probably both police and ambulances present because Ryan could hear two distinct sirens. He ran to the door, franticly trying to get it open.
"What's the code?" Ryan screamed at the teacher who merely cowered with fear.
The blond gave up on the educator and returned to the door. He tried to recall the "master" code. He and Troy had memorized this code so that they could sneak out of wherever they were during a Lockdown drill, but the adrenaline rushing through his body was confusing his mind.
Ryan tried several codes before his forth attempt proved successful. He ran through the school and out the front door. In the designated emergency vehicle parking space, he could see a stretcher being loaded into the back of an ambulance. He ran over, fearing the worst as to the identity of the injured being.
As Ryan ran, he passed a police officer placing one of his peers, Blake, into the back seat of the nearest police cruiser. Another police officer was carrying a bloody baseball bat in an evidence bag.
"The faggot deserved it!" screamed the homophobic assailant. This only served to heighten Ryan's fears.
Ryan neared the ambulance and saw that it was Troy on the stretcher.
"Troy!" Ryan quickly ran over and saw his boyfriend in bad shape. There were bloody gauzes plastered all over his head, but it was unmistakably Troy. Troy's father was nearby talking to a paramedic as Troy's stretcher rolled into the back of the ambulance. Coach Bolton went to board the ambulance as well. Ryan ran up to him.
"Can I ride with him too?"
"No, Ryan," he said simply. There was a barely detectable trace of anger in his voice. Most would not notice it at all, but it was there.
--
Lucille Bolton appeared in the waiting room. She ran up to her husband and enquired about their son, to which she received a noncommittal shake of the head. She brought her hand to her face and released a sob. Ryan's presence had barely registered.
Ryan attempted to procure more information about his injured boyfriend but an enraged mother knocked him back.
"How could you even show your face to me? You're the one who did this to him!" Mrs. Bolton screamed at the teen, not caring that the entire waiting room could hear.
"But it wasn't me. It was Blake; he was the one with the bat," Ryan attempted.
"But you were the one who turned him gay. You turned him into a target. This is all your fault, you damn fag!"
Ryan, taken aback, retreated away from the couple, who held each other in a tight embrace. It was times like these that Troy would hold him close. He could not have that comfort anymore.
"Just leave, Ryan."
--XxXxX--
"This time, this place; misused, mistakes. Too long, too late; who was I to make you wait..."
Ryan played the Nickelback album Troy had gotten him when they went to see the concert. The day after their three-month anniversary, Ryan was hoping to wake up in Troy's bed, or at least with Troy beside him, but instead he woke to post-grunge melody of the Canadian rock band.
Ryan was usually a morning person, but that morning, Ryan felt so alone. He could not even feel whether Troy was still alive or not. It was as if that last Lockdown severed the connection between them.
"Just one chance, just one breath, just in case there's just one left..."
Ryan remained in bed, finding himself dreaming of one of the last dates he and Troy shared.
--
It was just a little over two weeks previous. Nickelback came to Albuquerque on their "All the Right Reasons" tour, and Troy managed to score some tickets. Ryan had told him that he could have gotten the tickets through some of his father's connections, and saved Troy from having to camp out in a queue for two days, but Troy wanted to get these tickets himself.
"Your dad doesn't even like us going out," Troy pointed out as they strolled through urban Albuquerque, on their way to their destination.
"Sure he does," countered Ryan.
"Not from what you've told me," Troy said, as he gently lead his boyfriend around a corner with a light hand on the small of his back.
The sun was just setting, turning the sky a beautiful magenta, as the street lamps flickered to life. Waiters and servers from the cafés and restaurants lining the side street bustled around in their various monochromatic uniforms.
"Aww, he'll come around," Ryan assured his partner, as he was lead into a small but quaint bistro.
Troy had not only gotten the tickets for the concert, but he had also treated Ryan to dinner before the show at a nearby restaurant.
"You are really going all out for today, aren't you?"
"Well, we have been together for seventy-six days. I think that is cause for a special date, don't you?"
"Seventy-six days? Troy, that's not even a round number"
Troy chuckled at this response. "Well, as corny as it sounds, I think everyday I spend with you should be a special occasion"
Troy could be so cute sometimes. Ryan just smiled at his boyfriend and raised a glass. "To seventy-six days"
"To seventy-six days," Troy repeated, "and plenty more."
The two boys finished their meal then headed towards the Albuquerque Arena where the concert was going to occur. Troy had opted for unreserved floor tickets over sitting in the stands because no body should be sitting anyway at a rock concert.
The moment Nickelback came onto the stage, the mass sitting on the floor rushed forward to get as close as possible to the stage. Nickelback rocked out while Troy and Ryan "moshed" in the pit. Troy did not expect Ryan to have as much fun as he did, and so had only then discovered his boyfriend was a closet grunge fan.
"I had no clue you were into rock. In these last seventy-six days, you never thought of telling me this?"
"I like to make things a surprise."
The two belted out the lyrics to "Someday", "How You Remind Me", "Photograph" and "Saving Me" then one of their favorite songs came on.
"This time, this place; misused, mistakes. Too long, too late; who was I to make you wait..."
Troy turned to face Ryan. The blond stopped singing mid lyric, after noticing his boyfriend facing him.
"What is it Troy?"
"'Cause you know, you know, you know…"
"I love you," Troy said, looking right into Ryan's eyes.
"I have loved you all along…"
Ryan could tell Troy was not just reciting lyrics but also truly saying the words to him. It had taken him seventy-six days to work up to saying those words, but Ryan knew it was worth it.
"I love you too," Ryan responded and drew his boyfriend in for a kiss.
The song continued forgotten, and ignored was the mass of bodies swaying to the melody around them. Ryan and Troy fell into a world of their own, consumed by the strength of their emotions.
--
"I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you'll never go; stop breathing if I don't see you anymore…"
Sharpay entered Ryan's room, brining him out of his nostalgic trance. She did not say anything, but just sat on the bed next to her brother.
"They're not going to tell me what's wrong with him, Shar," he expressed his concerns.
"Then just go find out for yourself, Ryan," suggested the blonde.
"How?"
"I am sure you will find a way."
--XxXxX--
The Boltons sat inside the office of Doctor Ramira, the head neurosurgeon of Lovelace Medical Center. The doctor was discussing their son's condition with them. She did not give any indication of optimism in her tone of voice.
"He has suffered a traumatic subdural hematoma with motor sensory complications due to the blunt trauma to his skull."
"What does that mean?" Ryan heard Jack Bolton ask the Doctor. Ryan was sitting on the floor outside the door. The corridor appeared empty and devoid of any potential disturbances. Ryan was certain he would not be disturbed as he eavesdropped on Troy's diagnosis. He even internally reciprocated Jack's question, unable to understand why doctors do not just speak laymen to save them from having to explain it anyway.
"It means that the injury to Troy's head has caused some bleeding in his brain. The fractured skull was repaired in ICU but he has a blood clot in his brain. So far, it is still small. We will do regular CT scans and MRI scans to keep the clot in check."
Ryan found himself trying to recall what those abbreviations meant. ICU meant Intensive Care Unit, easy. He knew that the "M" in "MRI" meant something to do with magnets, and CT scans usually looked at the brain, but that was pretty much the extent of his knowledge. He made a mental note to watch those medical shows more, so that he could understand some of the jargon he was overhearing.
"At the present size of the clot, his body should heal itself naturally, but if the clot gets bigger, we will have to perform a craniotomy, which can lead to other complications. We have put him in a medically induced comatose state to aid his body in the healing process."
Ryan could hear the sighs of relief let out by his boyfriend's parents. Troy was still alive, and it sounded like he would be getting better. This was all good news. 'Comatose'? That was the long word for a 'coma', right? Ryan abruptly abandoned his contemplations when he heard Mr. Bolton speak up again.
"What were these 'motor sensory complications' you mentioned earlier?" the coach asked.
"Well, the location of the clot could lead to some lasting complications."
The blond's attention perked at the mention of 'lasting complications'. That did not sound good to him.
"The clot places pressure on some key parts of the brain. Where it is in the midbrain, the clot puts pressure on the cerebellum and hippocampus."
The medical jargon had returned, and if Ryan were any less anxious for the well-being of his boyfriend, he probably would have groaned loudly, revealing his location to the occupants of the room. It seemed that the Boltons had a similar reaction because the explanation followed.
"The midbrain concerns relaying sensory messages to the brain, the cerebellum controls movement and the hippocampus deals with memory. If any of these are affected, it could lead to some loss of brain function, but nothing major. He may have to undergo some physical therapy though…"
"What are you doing here?" whispered a hospital volunteer who was passing through the corridor.
The sudden presence of another person startled Ryan. He looked up at the other being from his position on the floor and saw a girl, about his age, in one of those "candy stripe" uniforms.
"You know you're not supposed to be here right?" she asked, continuing to whisper. She had a slightly tanned complexion and long, dark brown hair. She appeared sympathetic and looked between the door and the blond boy sitting by it.
"My… friend's parents are in there. He was hit in the head with a bat," Ryan stated simply.
The girl knelt down beside him. "I'm sorry. I'm sure he is going to be okay," she tried to reassure him.
"The doctor seems to think so," Ryan said.
"Well, there you go. Dr. Ramira is one of the best neurosurgeons in the country. If she says he is going to be all right, then he will be all right." She gave Ryan her best smile in an attempt to cheer him up, an attempt that appeared to have worked.
"Yeah, I guess you are right."
"I know I am," she said with confidence. "I suggest you go now, before they find you eavesdropping. You could get in a lot of trouble for that."
"Okay," Ryan agreed and got up to leave, but then turned to face the girl once more.
"I'm Ryan, by the way." He held out his hand after introducing himself.
"Alexis," she replied taking the hand. She squeezed the hand and offered a smile, which appeared reciprocated.
Ryan released her hand and left, feeling a little better knowing that Troy would get better.
--XxXxX--
"Ryan, you haven't been to see Troy lately. Is everything alright?" Vance Evans queried his son at the dinner table.
Already ornately decorated in preparation for the annual Evans Christmas ball, the dining hall had glittering purple tassels on just about everything. Purple silken cloths hung from the walls and lined the table. The Evanses were following the trend of purple as the new Christmas color.
"Everything is fine, dad," Ryan put forward.
"Oh, so what is Troy's condition?" enquired the elder Evans.
"He is getting better," Ryan simply stated, not giving any more information.
"That's good," said Vance, out of politeness.
The family meal fell to a pregnant silence. The four Evans' sat on one end of the long table. Vance sat at the head of the table, with his wife on his left and his son on his right.
Although she was really supposed to sit beside her mother, Sharpay usually sat beside her brother instead. She did not do it in spite of the woman, but for the general sense that her brother could really use the company more. For a while, Sharpay had sat on the other side of the table, beside her mother, since Ryan would regularly have Troy over for dinner, but she knew that it was again a time of need for her brother.
"So why haven't you been going to visit him?" asked Ryan's father, a hint of hope in his voice.
"His parents don't want me there," Ryan replied, attempting to hide his misery, though some bled through his façade.
"Ahhh," gave Vance Evans in understanding.
Ryan had only come out to his parent's the previous month. Troy had been working him up to it, and had promised to be with him no matter what happened. Ryan did not think his parents would mind at all. He was sure his parents already had their suspicions and were just waiting for their son to give them confirmation.
Ryan had been right in his mother's case, and she embraced him after he had told her. He wanted to tell both of his parents at the same time, but could not, so he just told them one by one.
Although his mother accepted him, his father was a different story.
--
"We're here!" Vance Evans announced, as he did with every family outing, when the boys arrived at the batting cages.
"Okay," Ryan said absentmindedly, in place of his usual 'I know'.
While the male Evanses were making their way to the batting cages, Ryan was considering his mom's advice about coming out to his father. It would be a huge load off his chest if he could be completely honest with his father. He had never lied to his father before, and even since the beginning of his relationship with Troy, he still had not 'lied' to his father, but rather omitted some major truths. It would be nice to be able to be himself with his entire family, rather than having to watch what he said.
Vance could see that something was troubling his son, but chose not to push it, hiring out a cage for the afternoon, and collecting some baseballs from the vendor.
After they had hit a few balls, both commenting on each other's batting techniques, they decided to go for an ice cream break. Even at seventeen, you can never be too old for ice cream.
The two men were walking back towards their batting cage, when Vance noticed another two men and decided to comment on it.
"They are really asking for it," Vance simply said.
Ryan tried to follow his father's gaze, to see what he was talking about, but only saw two guys eating ice creams as well.
"What?" Ryan asked, thoroughly confused.
Ryan's father looked at him, also perplexed as to what his son was confused about.
"What did you mean by 'they are really asking for it'?" Ryan elucidated.
"Well, if they are going to be together, they shouldn't do it out here in public," Vance clarified.
Ryan looked back at the two men eating ice creams and noticed their handholding.
"Why not?" Ryan asked.
It was then that Ryan realized what he was defending tried take back his question but knew it was too late. His father did not look at him weirdly, but Ryan remained on edge.
"Do you remember that time when you were twelve?" Vance asked his son as they sat on the bench outside their batting cage.
Ryan did remember that incident, even though he attempts to forget; his father had called gay people 'freaks' and said that the bashing was 'deserved'. It was a memory Ryan tried to suppress.
Noticing that his son did know what he was talking about, Vance continued, "yes, well, if they are going to be gay, they should at least keep it to themselves, instead of being gay where the gay bashers could see them."
"Yeah…" Ryan agreed distractedly.
"I am telling you, people are becoming more reckless these days," Vance remarked. He was not homophobic. Times were changing and he knew how to adjust. Vance had long since learned to tolerate gay people and their, unconventional lifestyle, but still resented them for their hypocrisy. For a group of people wanting equality, they sure liked to publicize their uniqueness with obscene public displays and Mardi Gras and what not.
Ryan had a different set of thoughts running through his mind. His father had already brought up the topic. It was his perfect opportunity to make a slip and come out. "Here is your chance", Ryan thought, "Take it!" He continued to contemplate how he would come out to his father, deciding on a simple slip his father can approach him about.
"That is true. When Troy and I go out, we try to keep it discreet," Ryan said, though quietly.
"Huh?" Vance Evans had entered the batting cage while his son was in thought and did not hear his son's remark due to the loudness of the pitching machine ejecting a ball for him to bat.
"Dad, I need to talk to you." Ryan requested.
Vance Evans almost knew what his son needed to talk about. He was a smart man and judging by their line of conversation, he almost feared his son's intended topic of conversation, but told himself to not jump to conclusions. It was a rule in corporate business to not make assumptions, and Vance was not about to break a rule that was his lifestyle. Maybe, he was connecting the wrong dots and producing the wrong picture. Ryan could want to talk about something different. He turned off the machine used to hurl balls and the cages occupant, put down the bat and went outside to his son.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" Vance asked, sitting on the bench beside his son.
"You love me, right?" Ryan asked without a preamble.
"Yes, of course son, I love you." The brash question had surprised the elder Evans, but after almost two decades of parenting, he knew the required automatic response.
"No matter what?" Ryan asked, somewhat nervous.
"No matter what," Vance confirmed with a smile.
Ryan looked around. There was no one in the adjacent batting cages, or in their immediate vicinity. It appeared that is was not really a morning for batting, for most. He looked back at his father and psyched himself into doing what needed to be done.
"Dad, I think I'm gay," Ryan said, then immediately recoiled as if he had released an explosive.
Vance stared at his son, perplexed. He knew what he heard, but he was not prepared to receive it. He went through his regular motions when he received unbelievable news. Ryan had not appeared to be making a joke. There was no previous indication that this 'news' was even a possibility, at least in his eyes. Had he missed something? He analyzed his son's words to make sure there was no ambiguity he may have missed, and realized that Ryan had used the word 'think'.
"You 'think'?" Vance asked, voicing his internal question while in mid thought.
"Well," Ryan started, "I don't know. It is just all so confusing to me."
"Confusing? That is good. Maybe things are still all right", Vance thought. He was not ready to accept his son was gay. He had so many plans for that boy of his, and this would make a major dent in these campaigns. "Well, maybe it is just a phase," Vance offered.
Ryan considered this for a moment. He had had fleeting notions that he was just going through a phase during the past two months, but they never came to fruition. He knew he wanted to be with Troy forever. That cannot be just a phase.
"I don't think so," Ryan answered, though uncertainty laced his voice.
"Are you sure?" Vance asked, trying to pick at the fraying stitch his son revealed to him.
Ryan nodded with more confidence and certainty than his previous response. Within his mind, we was fact checking, collecting and arranging data so he could answer any question his father gave him.
"How many… umm… how many guys… have you been attracted to?" Vance managed to get out. He was attempting to gauge the damage and see if things are reversible.
Ryan thought before answering. The answer was quite clear but Ryan wanted to make sure, before he gave his answer, "One."
"One? If you've only been attracted to one guy, are you sure you're gay?" Vance asked, some of his previous concerns flying away.
"Well, yes. But I have very strong feelings for this guy," Ryan explicated.
Vance was feeling a lot happier than he had moments before. Things did not appear as bad as they seemed.
"How long?" he asked, continuing with his damage assessment.
"How long what?"
"How long have you been attracted to this guy?" Vance expounded.
"Two months," Ryan answered.
Things were just getting better and better in Vance's mind. "Only two months?"
Ryan could see visible happiness in his father's voice and face, but was unsure about why. Ryan took it as a sign that his father was accepting him. "Well, that's when Troy and I started dating," Ryan offered.
"Okay," Vance said before realizing what his son had just told him. "Wait, Troy?"
"Yeah, he is my boyfriend."
"As in Troy Bolton?"
"Yes," Ryan answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Vance's smile seemed to have been extinguished, and replaced with utter confusion, something Ryan noticed.
"Dad? You said you would love me no matter what, remember?" Ryan reminded him, insecurity creeping back into his façade.
"Of course I love you so-… Ryan. I just need time to think," Vance said, stopping himself from calling Ryan his son. Although things seemed repairable, Vance knew that his son could never be the same. They left the cages and went back to the car in silence.
Ryan caught noticed his father's reluctance at using the word son. He decided he would let his father have the rest of that day to think, then approach him the next day.
Vance had left on a 'business trip' before Ryan could talk to him. Their relationship thereafter was shaky at best.
--
Ryan decided to go see his boyfriend the next day. It was only the day after the incident, but he wanted to be there for Troy, whenever he woke up. He was going to stand by his boyfriend, and nothing was going to stand in his way.
--XxXxX--
Ryan stood outside room 417 clutching a bouquet of peonies. He knew Troy was not very into flowers, but Ryan liked them, and peonies were one of his favorites. They symbolized life, happy marriage and even gay life. More fitting to the situation, they also represented healing and so seemed quite appropriate.
"I don't know how much longer we are going to be able to keep this up."
Ryan could hear Troy's parents talking inside his boyfriend's room. The door had a narrow glass window on it, and Ryan chanced a glance as to the contents of the room. He could not see Troy from his position because he was trying to keep out of sight. With his limited view, he could see a stack of luggage in one corner of the room.
"We cannot live in Troy's hospital room forever."
Ryan heard the voice of Jack Bolton. He sounded concerned. He was probably sitting with his wife, who would be holding Troy's hand.
"Maybe you could go talk to the bank, and ask for a loan?"
"Luce, the bank took the house already. We had to give everything up just to pay for the Emergency room, and the initial operations and scans they are doing to Troy. All the money we have left in savings is all that is keeping him here. This 'medically induced coma' and all that other stuff they keep doing to him to keep him alive has eaten into most of our savings already. We won't be able to continue much longer like this."
"So what are you saying? That we should pull the plug? How can you put a price on our son's life?"
"I'm not putting a price on our son's life. I am just saying that sooner or later we would be bankrupt, regardless of the price."
"I hope he pulls through before then."
"He would have to pull through within the next two days then."
"What? We can only afford two more days?"
Ryan entered the room slowly, slipping quietly through the door, but they noticed his entrance nonetheless.
"What are you doing here? Get out!" came the screech from the tear soaked face of Lucille Bolton.
Ryan did not retreat out of the room, but remained at his post by the door, flowers in hand.
"I came to give these to Troy -…" Ryan started.
"I said, GET OUT!" screamed the female Bolton, who had gotten up from her seat beside her son.
Ryan had suddenly noticed Troy's presence in the room. He had surprised himself, not having looked for Troy the moment he entered the room. Mrs. Bolton's screech had startled him too much.
Troy just looked as he did when he slept, except for the bandages around his head, and the various wires and tubes spreading out from his person. He seemed as serene as the first time Ryan saw Troy asleep. Ryan thought a sleeping Troy was one of the most beautiful sights in the world.
"Get out," Lucille gritted out. She made her way to be next to the blond, and managed to maintain an 'inside voice', as she told Ryan to vacate the room.
Ryan did not want to leave. He did not want to leave, and was not going to be made to.
"Get out, please?" tried the female Bolton. She appeared to be pleading.
"I can pay for all of Troy's hospital fees," Ryan plainly stated.
Lucille Bolton looked surprised by the unexpected response from the blond.
"You can also stay at my house until you work things out," added the boy.
"Why would we want to stay at your house, you -…?"
Jack had rushed around Troy's bed to stop his wife. "We appreciate the offer and would like to take you up on that, thank you," Mr. Bolton told the blond. He dragged his wife to the other side of the room where she argued with him in a not-so-hushed tone.
"Why are you even listening to this kid?" Lucille asked her husband harshly. In her mind, Ryan was not worth even a first glance.
"Luce, he has offered to pay the hospital to keep Troy," Jack reasoned.
"So," Lucille countered, "we can take care of our own son."
"No we can't. If we don't accept this offer, Troy might not make it," Jack said, impressing the reality of the situation upon his wife.
"Okay," Lucille conceded, "but I am not staying at that faggot's house."
"They are going to kick us out of this room sooner or later."
The female Bolton racked her brain, looking for an alternate solution, realizing that her husband was right, and that they could not stay in their son's hospital room forever. She was determined to find different accommodations, being strongly against staying at the house of her very own Devil incarnate. "We can stay with my sister," she finally offered, remembering her only relative living in New Mexico.
"The one in Santa Fe?" Jack asked, confirming the sister-in-law his wife was proposing, "It would take us hours to get back here. Do you want to be hours from your son?"
"No, but…"
Ryan stopped listening to the bickering couple, in favor of focusing on his boyfriend. Troy had bandages wrapped all around his head. He appeared serene in his slumber, and were it any other circumstance, Ryan would have been happy to see his boyfriend in this state of bliss.
Ryan approached Troy's bedside to place the flowers he had brought on the table.
"Where do you think you're going?" Lucille demanded.
"I was just going to put these flowers by his bed," was Ryan's response.
"You can't -…" the Bolton argued, but her husband interjected.
"That is fine, Ryan," Jack allowed.
Lucille Bolton resigned to the fact that she would now have to share her son with the boy she hated so.
Hospitals have always been a shared space. Even when a patient manages to get a single room, they will always have company in the form of a relative or loved one, or a nurse, or even a doctor. Nothing ever belongs to a single person in a hospital. In the already crowded halls, there is never any room for possession. Hospitals have never really been a good place.
--XxXxX--
To Be Continued…
I know a lot of you were expecting the "batter" to be a canon character, one of the main cast. I will give you this. It is not Blake.
In Lockdown, many of the flashbacks were to earlier chapters. Here, they will mostly be on the three months between Lockdown and the Epilogue.
Future chapters will touch more on the Bolton's and the Evan's views on their sons' relationship as well as more on the original characters I have introduced. As a hint, EVERY first name in this chapter belongs to a major character.
DISCLAIMER:
This story is based on characters created by PETER BARSOCCHINI and may make reference to events and ideas in the two DISNEY movies, High School Musical and High School Musical 2, both written by PETER BARSOCCHINI. I make no money from writing this story and do it with no commercial intent.
This story includes lyrics from various songs by S CLUB 7, NICKELBACK, JESSE McCARTNEY, THE SPILL CANVAS, SIMPLE PLAN, and others. The lyrics remain the property of their respective artists and I make no claim on them, nor do I use them with any commercial intent.