Saturday the 9th of June 2012
Brendon bolts up, wide awake.
"Ryan?" He throws his head from side-to-side, half expecting Ryan to be standing in his room. Though the matchbox room is so small that for Ryan to fit in here he'd have to be on his bed with him. His cheeks tinge pink at the idea, and he throws his feet over the edge of the bed. He is expecting to look up and see the box/cupboard, and all his books piled high on the shelf. However he is greeted with something much different. Brendon rubs his bleary eyes with the back of his hand, and looks again. He sees the same as before. Destruction. All the books are across the floor, messed up on the broken shelf, which has fallen. The cupboard is wide open, clothes and video games spilling out. Brendon stands, furious as what vile person could have done this. He sits again a minute later. A tear rolls down his cheek. Dallon was right. He really didn't have his powers under control. He'd done this. Breaking the shelf his uncle had lovingly put up just for him, to make up for the fact that his dad really wasn't coming home. The tears are coming hot and fast now. But his head hurts, he realises. The windows slowly unlock, and they open even more slowly. Brendon leans out of the window, breathing in the cool evening air. An electronic shout comes from a house down the street, followed by chanting.
"Crazy party-goers." He mutters. But something feels very very wrong. He leans out further, squinting down the long street, in the direction of Dallon's house. The chanting gets louder.
"HE'S GOT RYAN. HE'S GOT RYAN. HE'S GOT RYAN." Brendon would be able to recognise that voice anywhere, it was Dallon's TV in his gamesroom. It occasionally yelled out across the street, and he'd heard it when he was round Dallon's yesterday. Brendon is just beginning to consider if different tech really did have different voice types, when it hits him exactly what that damned dino-TV just said. HE'S. GOT. RYAN.
Brendon's upper lip lifts slightly at the corner, and a small growl emmits from his chest. Dallon was going to get it. Brendon leaps out of the open window, and lands in the front garden in a crouch. He rolls forward, standing up. He runs to the street, the adrenaline beginning to get higher and higher in his bloodstream. He was going to murder Dallon if he was hurting Ryan. Ryan was the best thing that had ever happened to Brendon, ever. He was kind and caring and mature and smart and everything that Brendon wasn't. He brought Brendon back down to Earth with a crash, or even a small thud if he was calm enough. A memory pierced Brendon's data banks. Don't run too fast on the wall Brendon, you could fall and then you could get hurt! - Chill out Ry, I got this! - /crash/ - I told you so! There, don;t cry, I'll kiss it better. There. Want to go back to your uncle? I won't tattle. But only if you promise not to walk on that wall ever again. - I promise. You're my best friend in the whole wide world Ryan. - And you're mine! C'mon let's go! ...and off they'd run, hand in hand, the soreness on Brendon's knee almost vanishing. Turns out kissing had medical value after all. Ryan was a worrier, and he was gentle and brave. But he could become fragile, and Dallon was taking advantage as Brendon ran up the front garden's path.
Brendon wasn't evil, Brendon wasn't crazy. But he sure was angry, and his temper flared up at the images he had of Dallon hurting Ryan. He found himself outside Dallon's front door, a showy red affair, where he lifted up a palm, throwing the door outwards without a sound. He needed the element of surprise. He jumped into the air, using his telekinesis as best as possible to keep him suspended there. To his surprise - it worked. He flew up the stairs towards the bedroom, where he peeked round the door, which was just ajar enough for him to fit through. The sight that hit him was disgusting.
Dallon was sat on top of Ryan, straddling his waist. He was fiddling with Ryan's belt, hurrying to remove it. Ryan was just laying there, glassy-eyed but obviously pained. Brendon just hurt, all over. Ryan was his forever, and Dallon was trying to rip that away.
The first thing Brendon did was land on his feet, startling Dallon. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, his eyes burning red. He shut his eyes and focused. The second thing he did was lift Dallon with his mind's arms, and throw him out the window, shattering the glass. Brendon opened his eyes, breathing out slowly and calmly. Dropping his arms, Brendon stumbled back slighty, rubbing his forehead with his hands. The third thing he did was right himself and walk slowly over to the bed, then to lift an unconsious Ryan up into his recently toned arms, and carry him up and away. Up the street, the hill, the grassy bank. To the gateway. The fourth thing he did was set Ryan down, who appeared to be having a fit. Panicked, Brendon shook Ryan's shoulders. The tears started then, and he choked as he felt himself shake with hard and loud cries that just kept coming louder and louder.
"Wake up Ryan!" He yelled through sobs. "Please...Ryan...wake up!"