Hey, all! I know a new chapter of Big Time Courage is way overdue, and I am working on it, I should have a new chapter up by the end of this week. For more information about that, visit my profile. This story is a song fic to the song Open Your Eyes by Snow Patrol. It is an amazing song, please check it out. I was listening to it before I went to bed and this idea just kind of came. It might be confusing, but it's pretty much a look, in my eyes, of Kendall and James. Somewhat of a character study. Anyway, I'll let you read it, now. I love you guys sooo much, enjoy, or don't.
As always, this story is dedicated to my best friend, who I had sleeping in my arms many times before, who I have slept in his arms and felt as safe as I could be. This goes to you, Tyler. Of night of cuddling and Family Guy re-runs. Loving you always, missing you more.
All this feel strange and untrue and I won't waste a minute without you….
Rewind. Rewind back to Minnesota, back to you in my arms. The tears hang from your nose and dribble down your chin.
"He's really gone, James, he's really gone,"
Your voice is broken, lost, you hate it. You hate breaking down and building back up. You hate being the one in need. You are terrified of your needs.
My bones ache, my skin feels cold, and I'm getting so tired and old…
I hold you tighter. The air is chilly, it's winter. Outside there is a thin layer of snow on the ground. It doesn't matter what the weather is, though. Your stuck in April. The month that they told you your father was terminal.
You don't want any of us to see you like this. You're the strong one. Why you chose to confine in me will still be a mystery. I'm not good at consoling people or making them feel better. In my mind, in my world it is about me. I am the most important thing. But my world is morphed, with you crying in my arms. There are bigger things than what I want. Than me. That is a scary concept. It's so much safer when your on your familiar territory, when your just dealing with you.
The anger swells in my gut, but I won't feel these slices or cuts…
Your mind is a dark and scary place, Kendall, and I'm not even sure you want to be there. Trapped with last breaths and heartache, of death and pain. We don't say anything, we are master of the language that goes unspoken. We are best friends. We soothe each other like a balm and heat up like fire. Beautiful symmetry.
Should I be mad at the cancer? Or at your father? Or at the doctors?
You don't deserve this. You have done everything right in your life. A loving son, a caring brother, a loyal friend, always putting others first. But maybe that's because you don't want to deal with yourself. Your thoughts or emotions. The feelings are too raw and too painful. It's scary to deal with them. So is your plan just to create a wall around your self? Enabling others but keeping you a safe distance out of your mind?
You are asleep, in my arms, tired of crying and tired of feeling sad. Tired of remorse and pain. Your breathing is erratic and I wonder if I should call Logan. Or would he bitch to me about getting eight hours of sleep? It is late, Kendall. But you wouldn't remember the clock that read 3:32 am, you would only remember the rise and fall of my chest and that for the first time in a long time, you felt safe. No need to run from the monster.
I want so much to open your eyes, 'cause I need you to look into mine…
I wish you would sort yourself out. You will break one day. All this pain you have been keeping, emotions you won't deal with. We are only 14, but you have suffered a lifetime. I want to be there for you, ease some of the pain, but I can't do that if you don't open up. Night times here, in L.A. are different. I don't share a room with you, it's Logan you eases you if you have nightmares. When you dream off the days when your father was dieing and you couldn't do anything about it. You were helpless. So very helpless with so many needs of a 14 year old boy. But those were all shoved aside. You don't want to deal with those needs, those things anchoring you to April. That scared boy who looked at his dieing father. I want you to see me, Kendall. I want you to see yourself in me. That we are all here for you, that you shouldn't be locked up inside yourself. You are so powerful in so many ways.
I can be aggressive, I blame part of that on hockey and part of that on my parents. They fight. But at least I have them. My life is in no means perfect, none of ours are. But it doesn't matter what shit goes down, it's how you handle it. And showing up to my front door shivering and shaking with sobs and the cold isn't a good way of handling things.
Tell me that you'll open your eyes, tell me that you'll open you eyes, tell me that you'll open your eyes, tell me that you'll open your eyes.
I need you to realize that there will be a time when you can be happy again. That there will be memories of you and your father at hockey games or watching R rated movies without your mom's permission. You were so close with your father, I had always envied that relationship but when he got sick, everything changed. You closed your eyes because you knew that you were going to die and what was the point in living if your just going to get taken away from everything you've worked for?
I have fears and needs too, Kendall. I fear growing old, of losing my good looks. There isn't much of me that isn't on the surface, I need to be able to look in the mirror and see the outside, of what I want to see. If I was a glass wall, I only look at the reflection because I'm too scared to deal with what's on the inside.
Open your eyes, Kendall. There is so much more. This night will not be forgotten by me. But you are asleep and will not remember. You don't want to remember your times of weakness. But your times of weakness are as great as those times when your in control and a leader. They are both of the best parts of what makes you, you.
Get up, get out, get away from these liars, 'cause they don't get your soul or your fire…
Fast-forward. You are stressed. It's hockey practice, Tuesday after school, and you keep missing the shots. Very unusual, but the coach doesn't want to call you out because we are all afraid. They treat you like some fragile orphan, not sure how to deal with this. They don't want to deal with you. The grief and knowledge that, "This kid watched his father die," or that you have two too many jobs a 15 year old should have. Or that you cook Mac & Cheese for Katie and yourself when your mom's working the night shift. You grew up very fast, Kendall. Responsible. You are a leader because you like to be in control. You weren't in control of your dad's death, he slipped right through your hands. If you can control everything else, you don't need your own needs, only helping people with theirs. You thought of us as a team because you can't stand the thought of only being you. Just dealing with you. Those memories, horrible memories. Of the way your dad looked, what he did, what he sounded like. Dieing is not pretty, and it was torture. Sometimes I feel like all your doing is waiting for yourself to die.
But you are not defined by what happened to your father. You are incredible, Kendall. These people don't see you, they don't understand there is so much more to you. Your drive, your ambition, your sharp, sharp mind. Let's get out of here, Kendall. Nobody understands. Let's get out of here.
Take my hand, knot your fingers in mine, and we'll walk from this dark room for the last time…
I have dreams, Kendall. They take you places, if you don't you'll be stuck here. Your dreams of being a hockey player are very real, you are amazing at hockey, but those memories will hold you down. Memories of playing one-on-one with your dad, of staying on the ice to focus on something that is not you. Come with me Kendall, let's go. Let's forget. It's the past and we don't have to worry about anything that happen. We are going to the light at the end of the tunnel, back to reckless teenagers. We are leaving the darkness and the sorrow and together, we can jump the walls we built around ourselves.
I'll protect you, Kendall. Because you don't need protecting. You take all the blows and I am a pillow to rest on. I'll stick with you, because I love that glint in your eyes and that smirk on your face. We are getting out of the darkness and taking hold of our dreams.
Every minute from this minute now, we can do what we want anywhere…
We have forgotten our past, because we built our own future. We head down the road without turning back. You were afraid to go to L.A. to leave the familiarity. But, Kendall, since you turned 16, I haven't heard you laugh like you did in a long time. Back to the fun loving teenager you once were. We can do anything, we are not chained down. That night in my bedroom we broke those chains. We are in each minute, not April, not winter, we are present.
You wander into your mom and Katie's room sometimes. I hear you at night. I lay very still. Sometimes, you come into my door way. Carlos is snoring and you lean against the frame. I see you look at me, a silent 'thank you' before you retreat to your mother. Sometimes I look at the sheen of your eyes and wonder if you remember that night. I wonder if you see into the glass wall, Kendall. Do you see inside my mind? What's swimming in there? Thoughts, fantasies? Things I am too scared to deal with. You are such a good friend, such a good big brother and son.
We can leave those thoughts that anchor us down somewhere else, because we can do what ever we want.
I want so much to open you eyes, 'cause I need you to look into mine…
We are helpless and broken, strong and able. A mass of contradictions thrown upon ourselves. We are the definition of teenage angst and heartache, and the very essence of living your dreams and lively happiness.
The paradox is suffocating, so unbelievably there. But because something bad happened doesn't mean your life has to be bad or carved from that incident. Despite what happened, your life is so good. You have loving family and friends who would do anything for you. Your job is what you love doing, singing.
Shit happens to all of, Kendall, but we all get through it, you will, too.
Tell me, that you'll open your eyes, tell me that you'll open your eyes, tell me that you'll open your eyes, tell me that you'll open your eyes…
You are not that same boy in my arms, or the same boy who watched his father die, You know you are so much more. And everything about you, Kendall, is amazing because it's you. You laugh and you play and we pretend like there is not something monstrous hiding behind your smile. You have started a new ending, with your eyes open. You are something else, something far beyond what I can touch.
All this feels strange and untrue, and I won't waste a minute without you….
Fast-forward. We are on the couch in apartment 2J. It is a drizzly April day and we are alone. You are in my arms, tear tracks on your face. But a ghost of a smile paints itself on your lips.