Sandy went to the kitchen and saw the digital numbers on the microwave display - 4:43am. What a night! He grabbed a glass out a cupboard, filled it with water and took a long sip. He got another and filled it too. Then he got the paracetamol packet and made his way back to the pool house.
Sandy entered the room quietly and saw Ryan had lain down. As he moved closer he noticed the kid shifting slightly every couple seconds. He even thought he heard a soft whimper of pain. He wondered if Ryan was having a nightmare and was surprised he'd fallen asleep so fast.
"Ryan" He called out softly to wake him from the dream.
But Ryan was wide awake. He whipped his head towards Sandy. In the light from the moon, Sandy saw Ryan's wide eyes creased with pain and shining wet. He saw alarm and fear mixed with embarrassment pass through them before he collapsed back on the bed with a puff and screwed his eyes shut. It was the most emotion Sandy had seen from the kid since he met him and the pain was the most unmistakable part. How had he kept his face schooled throughout the hospital visit and even the car trip, Sandy wondered, when it was obvious now that he was in agony.
Ryan shifted on the bed. "Ryan?" he heard Sandy's voice again. God that voice! Sounds so fucking kind, he could hardly stand it. The pain was clouding his mind. He'd kept control over it for hours but when he was alone he couldn't ignore it and now the floodgates seemed to have opened; he was drowning in it! He tried moving to lessen it but he could hardly budge without something else hurting, there was no way out, he couldn't sleep, he could see the night and coming day dragging on, filled with this unending torture. He felt trapped and that was one thing he couldn't stand, it make his skin crawl and his breath come faster, further hurting his ribs. He couldn't show this guy his weakness though. He put all his focus into pushing the pain back wherever he'd managed to hide it earlier in the night and when he felt like screaming from it he instead channeled the energy into controlling his breathing and attempting to force his face into some resemblance of normality, hoping the older man would forget what he'd seen when he'd first walked in.
"Ryan?" Sandy ventured, hoping to make some connection with the anguished boy. For that second when Ryan had looked at him without the walls, Sandy had caught a glimpse of the real Ryan, witnessed the terrified boy, who seemed to be drowning in the pain of his injuries, the physical and the nonphysical. For a second it was like he'd given up trying to hide what he was feeling, or couldn't anymore. He could tell that Ryan was already trying to bury what he was feeling. Sandy watched, stricken, for a moment as Ryan twisted slightly in pain. His fatherly instincts took over and he reached a hand out to brush the hair from Ryan's forehead.
Ryan felt a hand on his head and recoiled, immediately going into as defensive a posture as he could. No one touched him without hurting him, and he felt the very real threat of violence from such contact. The shock helped him suppress any remaining weakness that could've left him exposed. From the other side of the bed and through even more pulsing pain, Ryan saw Sandy's devastated face and didn't know what to feel, didn't really understand what had just happened, everything was still so damn cloudy!
"I'm sorry Ryan, I didn't mean to scare you." Sandy said earnestly with his hands out in a pacifying manner. It saddened Sandy beyond measure that a gentle gesture could be felt as threatening by this boy but he should've been more careful and he berated himself for not thinking. Ryan seemed to accept his nonaggressive demeanor and relaxed slightly.
Ryan wanted to say sorry, Sandy had looked so upset at his reaction, but he didn't know what to do – felt stupid.
Sandy was surprised there wasn't a trace of the pain and fragility he'd seen seconds earlier, the blank mask had returned although now Sandy could perceive an almost hidden, underlying fear that he guessed Ryan wasn't even consciously aware of. He wondered briefly if he'd imagined the raw emotion he'd glimpsed earlier before refusing to be fooled by this kid's convincing act.
"I got you some paracetamol… might help you sleep." Sandy offered with the pills and glass held out.
Ryan reached out tentatively and Sandy pressed a couple of the tablets out into Ryan's hand. Sandy went to pass Ryan the water but saw him dry swallowing the pills quickly. Ryan sagged down onto the bed, back on the other side again; his defensive instincts ensuring he maintained distance.
"Do you want some water? You should have some with the tablets." Sandy tried.
Ryan dragged his eyes to Sandy's and shook his head imperceptibly. His eyes pleaded not to be made to get up for the water, evidence that the pain was still there behind Ryan's too-strong walls. Sandy thought no one should be able to hide so well the amount of suffering this kid was in and Sandy worried grimly about why and how he'd had to learn to do it.
Sandy couldn't bring himself to make the kid move to drink. "Ok, don't worry Ryan."
The kid let out a small breath of relief and half closed his eyes. Sandy watched him for a few seconds and was distressed to notice small tremors running through his body.
"Ryan how much pain are you in?" He tried for direct.
"It's not too bad" Ryan mumbled through gritted teeth after a few seconds.
Sandy wasn't convinced at all. "Kid you're shaking…" Sandy trailed off gently hoping for a response.
He saw Ryan tense, maybe trying to stop the traitorous trembling or maybe because he knew he was being watched, but he didn't say anything.
"Kid if you don't tell me how you're feeling I can't help." Sandy changed tact.
Ryan's breaths grew labored and heavy for a second before he snapped "What could you do to help anyway? I'm not allowed strong stuff."
Sandy recognized the disguised admission, knowing at this stage Ryan wouldn't or was unable to admit any weakness.
"Maybe an icepack would help your ribs or even the headache?" Sandy offered
Ryan was silent for a while. An icepack actually did sound good, anything that might dull this mind numbing pain. He'd been through some crap before but this was right up there on the pain scale, he was sure Trey's freaking drugs had made it worse because he swore it shouldn't hurt this bad.
But he couldn't ask for the icepack. He just couldn't. Didn't know why exactly. This guy had done so much already, even if he was nosy as all hell, he probably saved his life…
Luckily Ryan didn't have to ask. Sandy took his silence as a yes. "I'll go get it for you." He said.
As he exited the pool house he swore he heard a faint "Thanks" and his lips turned up in a small smile.
He returned a minute later with two icepacks wrapped in cloths. He noticed Ryan twisting slightly again before the boy noticed him and stilled, his face still a mask of neutrality. It again unsettled Sandy that the kid hid his pain so well - that he felt he had to.
"Here" he said handing the packs to the boy. Ryan seemed uneasy, being given the relief so Sandy made his exit again saying "I'll be back to wake you in a bit over an hour - doctors orders for your concussion."
Ryan nodded his head "Ok" he said quietly.
When Sandy had left, Ryan put one icepack on his forehead and one on his ribs. The pressure it added to his damaged ribs made them hurt more so he took that one off and put it on the table next to the bed, his head however started feeling better straight away and he almost cried in relief. He was soon drifted to sleep, his body longing for some much needed rest.
Kirsten was asleep when Sandy snuck back into their room around 5am. She didn't know a thing about the injured boy downstairs in their pool house, his scribbled note from earlier was untouched and she would've rung if she realized he was gone. He dreaded having to explain the situation but would wait until a decent hour to tell her. He set his alarm for 6am to check on Ryan's concussion. He wished Ryan could sleep longer and hoped he'd get back to sleep after he woke him. Hoped the icepacks were helping and he got some decent sleep now.