On the outside, Zane is perfectly collected.
He has been ever since they arrived here at the hospital nearly five hours ago with Riley and Anya. He's forced Drew to sit down, to sip water, to remember to breathe. He's gotten coffee for everybody else and sat in his chair, sipping his own with calm precision. He's remained steady and collected, nothing less than his normal, collected, totally Zen self.
But on the inside, he's seething. Anger bubbles inside of him, acidic, churning, burning holes in his stomach. He can barely take a sip of his coffee without his hands spilling the steaming liquid down his lap, and when he sips it, it tastes like tar in his mouth. And it's taking every ounce of his Yoga training and self-control to keep himself from snapping- throwing a chair across the room, punching a wall, screaming at the top of his lungs.
He glances over the rim of his bad hospital coffee at Riley, standing against the wall. His boyfriend's eyes stare off into a distance, lost in thought. He's surprised, and ponders this reversal of roles. Riley is the one with the temper. He's the one who is quick to anger- get mad first, ask questions later.
In truth, Riley has nothing in him to rage. He doesn't know the Drew's little brother very well, but he's seen him at LGBT the few times he had begun tagging along with Zane this semester, and likes him well enough. He's a funny guy, always making other people laugh, and Riley admires the way the kid doesn't let anything seem to get to him. Aside from Zane, he's never met someone comfortable in his own skin like Adam is, and so willing to be himself at any cost. He envies that deeply, considering all the years he spent so deeply in the closet, buried in his own self-hatred.
So when this happens- and Riley cannot, will not, bring himself to use the word "hate crime", reducing this kid that he thinks so highly of into another faceless statistic- he is too deeply shocked into sadness to react in normal Riley fashion.
He had always known that stuff like this happened to people like him- he'd Googled enough stories about atrocious acts of violence committed against LGBT youth all over the world to know that it happened everywhere. But this isn't just a lecture topic or club discussion anymore. This is reality.
Knowing that things like this can and do happen every day is nothing compared to the sheer ferocity and horror of this crime. It's something too stomach-turning to rage over. This time, Riley can't even bring himself to swing a fist. Instead, he feels like he's trapped in quick sand, being pulled under while frozen in place.
Riley's eyes flicker over to Drew, sitting beside Zane. Well, beside him in the sense that he's physically present there. Metaphorically speaking, the kid's about a billion miles away, off in God knows what kind of hell his mind must be trapped in right now, worrying about his brother. He never thought he'd feel this much pity for Drew. He has to admit, the kid may be a jerk, but he's a good big brother. On the outside, Drew looks completely blank and emotionless, but Riley can't imagine what he must be feeling inside.
Next to Drew, Zane suddenly jumps up from his chair, heading towards the door. "Where you going?" Riley asks him.
Zane shrugs him off. "Outside," he says. "Get some air." He pushes past Riley and shoves open the double doors, storming off into the cold night. Riley hesitates a moment, then follows him.
Zane is standing by a wall. He glares at Riley when he sees he's been followed. "Can I just be alone for a minute, please?" he snaps.
Riley stops, but doesn't turn to leave. "I just want to know if you're okay," he tells him.
Zane's eyes blaze. "No, Riley, I'm not okay," he says. "Nothing is okay right now. Everything is just so unbelievably fucked up!" His boyfriend kicks the trashcan on the sidewalk. Riley stares, mesmerized and scared at the same time. He's seen Zane's anger before, but never this righteous fury, and he's never seen him out of control.
Abruptly, Zane wheels around, and with an open palm smacks the brick hospital wall behind him. "Shit," he says when he pulls his hand back and notices that it's bleeding, bits of the mortar ground into his hand.
Riley takes his hand in his, and brushes away the dirt with a calloused thumb. "You should probably get that looked at," he says.
Zane bites his lip. He's blushing, but not just from the cold. He's embarrassed at his overflow of emotions and his momentary snap of control. "No," he says. "It'll be fine." He sighs. "I'm sorry."
Riley's brow furrows in concern. "For what?"
"I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."
"Yeah, well, believe me, it's crossed my mind a few times."
"Why haven't you?"
Riley is quiet for a moment, then shrugs. "What good would it do?" he says quietly. "Adam won't be any less hurt."
Zane nods, blushing more at the futility of his actions. This whole night was pretty futile. Nothing they were going to do in that waiting room was going to ensure that Adam would pull through this alright; it was entirely out of their hands.
Riley looks at him. "You want to go back inside? It's cold out."
Zane shakes his head. "I just…I wanna stay out here a minute. Clear my head."
"You want me to stay with you?" Riley offers.
He's about to tell him no, but the words get stuck in his head. "That would be great," he says quietly.
The two of them sink down, their backs against the brick wall, and stare at the street. Riley's hand finds its way into Zane's uninjured one, and the two of them sit there, side by side in the cold, just watching the city lights make the whole world glow in the dark.
