Disoriented Dreams

His palm pressed against the older boy's palm, their fingers lacing and his skin feeling cool against his.

"I miss you." His voice was delicate and full of despair, but his face was still lit with an ingenuous grin as he gripped the others hand.

It was times like these where Ryan would feel a huge weight on his shoulders. Stupid, it may sound. But it's true.

The thing is, he felt also confused. His eyebrows furrowed and he stared into his eyes as he gazed back. Ryan naturally looked down to the floor and began shifting his weight from one foot to the other, pulling his hand back and stuffing it into his hoodie's pockets. He felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. Brendon giggled, making Ryan purse his lips and try to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Brendon knew perfectly well the effect he had on him and yet, he still used it against him.

"Don't do that." Brendon whispered after a long while. Ryan looked back up and stared into his huge child-like eyes, which danced with humor.

"What?" He snapped. Brendon pouted.

"I don't like it when you avoid any contact with me." He whispered, his bottom lip beginning to quiver. Ryan's eyes immediately softened and widened.

"Shit. Brendon, I'm sorry- I- God, Bren. Don't cry- I didn't mean t-"

Brendon cut him off by sniffing and shaking his head while staring at the ground, making a tear splash on the white tiles below.

"It's not that." He murmured. His head looked up and his eyes glistened with tears and pain, making Ryan flitch. This…person right here in front of him wasn't the Brendon he knew. Brendon's too innocent and joyful to cry.

"What is it?" Ryan asked. Brendon shook his head and furiously wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I miss you." He whimpered. Ryan's eyes held pure confusion and his nose wrinkled as he tried to understand the meaning behind Brendon's words.

"I-I don't understand, Bren."

Brendon bit his bottom lips and gave out a shaky sigh.

"I didn't mean to. Ry. I swear I didn't. I was just so… caught in my own things I forgot you had your own. I just gave you another to deal with." He said. Ryan stared at him blankly.

"Bren, What the h-"

"I'm so fucking sorry!" Brendon began sobbing and he sank to the floor, hugging his legs to his chest, "I get it! I really do but I won't be able to be like this any longer! Knowing you hate me and not being there to make you think otherwise! Ryan! Please! I fucking love you. Just make it stop." Ryan sat on his legs in front of Brendon and cupped his cheek, making Brendon look into his eyes.

"Brendon, I have no fucking idea what you're talking about but whatever you did, I don't care. I love you, you know? Please, Bren, don't suffer for something as stupid as the idea of me hating you. I-I forgive you."

Brendon's eyes suddenly turned cold and the tears stopped flowing, only a single last one running down his face and onto his lips, which were pressed into a hard line.

"No. You don't."

Ryan woke up panting at three in the morning. He was soaking with sweat and was tangled in his covers. His hand immediately flew to his right, finding it cold and unoccupied.

"B-" He didn't get to finish, his own sobs mixed with hiccups cut him off.

Angry tears dripped from the corner of his eyes. Partly for himself, for falling for the same dream, wait, no, nightmare, once again. It was every single night he had this dreadful sleep. Where Brendon stood in front of him once again and begged for his forgiveness. Of course, Brendon was right. Ryan hated Brendon. That was where the other part of his anger was.

Towards Brendon.

For leaving Spencer, who thought of him like his own brother, even if he annoyed the hell out of Spencer. For leaving Jon, his partner in crime. For leaving Pete, who he never got along with but, still, in a fucked up way, cared for each other. For leaving the Fueled By Ramen and Decaydance records people who had grown to him. For leaving Panic! At The Disco.

For leaving Ryan.

And that was reason enough for Ryan to spit at his name whenever he heard it.

"Fucking asshole," Ryan muttered as he made his way to the bathroom to wash his face from the sweat, "Stupid fucking selfish asshole. You really only think in yourself, right? Leaving like that. Just packing your stuff and leaving." He turned the key and started splashing himself before staring at himself in the mirror.

He looked like a monster, no exaggerating. His normal pale skin turned even whiter and he was even bonier than before. Eating wasn't exactly his favorite hobby. He had huge bags under his eyes and his hair was damp and messy. His eyes looked as hollow as he felt. They held no emotion.

Suddenly, as he moved his head to clean his face with a towel something flashed light from the corner of his eyes. He froze and gulped but didn't turn around. He knew what it was. He didn't want to fall to that hobby again. Not again.

Stiffly, he moved to dry his face and suddenly he felt cold arms wrap around his waist, squeezing. Startled, he whipped around but found nothing but air.

His eyes hardened and he smirked.

"Nice try, Bren," He said and he started walking towards the small table in the corner of the big restroom, "But that isn't going to help."

He grabbed the razor and calmly walked to a corner, sitting down on the ground.

"You caused all of this. You were the one who caused my pain to be multiplied," He pressed the blade to his wrist, "Selfish bastard. You thought you had enough problems, you have no idea the hell I go through, but yet, you don't see me packing my stuff and leaving to hang myself somewhere else, now do you?" He bit his bottom lip, a smile threatening to show and he swore you heard a faint whimper. The same whimper that haunted his dreams at night.

"Now, Brenny, you pay. See you in hell, sweet love."