"Polaris."

These three syllables that fell from Brendon's mouth caused Ryan to look up from swirling his orange juice around inside the bottle. The corner of his mouth raised and formed a pleased smile that gleamed through the concern on his face, but he was unable to speak.

"Jimmy Eat World. Polaris, I'm sure of it."

Ryan nodded and his smile grew bigger. He kept his promise and relied only on what his heart told him to do as he slipped his arm around Brendon's shoulders and pulled the boy's body closer to his own. It was time to leave his mind out of things because it was far too rational and cautious to be depended upon in these situations. Ryan was ready to lose his habit of thinking before acting because in some cases it would ruin moments of surprise, and in others it had the unfortunate ability of preventing honest emotions from being set free.

Brendon was physically unable to reciprocate with a proper hug, so he let his hand settle on Ryan's knee. "That's one."

Ryan accepted the fact that he would probably be smiling for the rest of the day as he reluctantly ended the small hug and tried to keep his thoughts away from the warm hand that was still lingering on his leg. "I'll have the other nine hundred later."

"You mean nine hundred and ninety nine." Brendon noticed Ryan's narrowed eyes and slight grin. "Well hey, you're the one that promised."

Ryan's mouth had decided to stop working for the moment, so he nodded and once again fixed his eyes on the orange liquid in front of him until Brendon spoke again after folding the paper back into a square.

"Ry, thanks for this, really." Brendon's voice was quiet as he slipped the paper into hiding, slightly exposing part of his hip as he lifted his shirt to reach the small pocket of his jeans.

"You don't need to thank me."

"But I am anyway."

"You don't need to, though."

"So?"

Ellen turned her attention away from her other friends who were sitting at another table. "Stop fighting over there. I'm too lazy to make any trips to the hospital today, so I don't want any bloodshed, got it?" She finished her joke off by flicking a piece of popcorn at the two boys on the other side of the table, managing to hit Ryan directly in the forehead. "Oh man, she shoots, she scores!" Ellen leaned forward and extended her arm, lifting her fist to Brendon, who met it with an enthusiastic fist of his own. "That deserves the respek knuckles, for sure. I'm pretty much awesome."

"Yeah I'll agree there. Mind if I give it a shot?" Brendon held out an open hand and Ellen gave him a few pieces of popcorn, which he promptly tossed at Ryan's face. "Ten points, all the way."

"Oh I completely hate you guys right now."

Brendon and Ellen laughed loudly, catching Spencer's attention, and he looked at his girlfriend as if she were crazy. "What are you people doing?"

"I'm pretty sure we're just throwing popcorn at Ryan, here."

"Oh, sounds good to me." Spencer reached into the bag and pulled out a rather menacing handful of popcorn, but he tossed the majority of it into his mouth before hurling three pieces at Ryan.

"Hate, you guys. Pure hate." Ryan slouched down in his chair and pressed his lips together to try to hide his smile. "Leave me alooone!" He crossed his arms and whined, which only made his friends laugh about as hard as he wanted to. It was too hard for him to not see the humor in being pelted with popcorn by his favorite people.

"Oh we love you lots, Ryface."

"Ellen, you are so lame."

"Your FACE is lame!"

"I'll face your lame!"

"Yeah, well I'll lame your FACE! Oh, snap!" Ellen laughed and reached for the respek knuckles from Brendon again.

"So I guess this is beat up on Ryan day, is it?" Brendon grinned his cheesy grin and slipped his hand underneath the table to return it to Ryan's knee.

"I don't know, I'll have to check the calendar, but I'm pretty sure it is." Ellen ducked below table level to pretend to make an attempt at scratching her foot, and she resurfaced while directing a rather satisfied smile at Ryan. She knew the answer to the question she was about to ask, but she decided to act oblivious anyway. "So, Boy, besides being covered in popcorn, how's your day going?"

"Pretty good."

Suspicion confirmed. "And you, Bren?"

Brendon nodded and smiled. "I'd just like some more popcorn to throw, if you wouldn't mind."

Ryan's smile opened up into an exaggerated gasp and he gently pushed Brendon's head sideways with his hand as he spoke. "Hey! What the hell, man?" Ryan was momentarily fascinated by the comfortable, amused look on his friend's face. He shook his head and forced another pout, which only made Ellen laugh even more once she noticed. Once Ryan's hand left Brendon's head after the quick push, he brought it under the table and found it a small resting place on top of Brendon's hand. Brendon's fingers moved a bit, taking Ryan's fingers between them and folding under to create a strong grasp that neither of them acknowledged to one another. With as close as they were sitting and with as tightly packed as the cafeteria was, both of them knew that the only way anyone would see them is if someone decided to crawl under the table.

"Do I have popcorn in my hair?" Ryan tried to spit his words at Brendon in the meanest way he could manage, but he was unable to do anything other than speak sarcastically on top of a quieted laugh.

"No, you're good."

Ryan had not realized before this point just how much he liked seeing Brendon's smile. He knew he wanted to see him smiling, see him happy, laughing, not worried about anything, but Ryan couldn't keep himself from staring at his friend's face and focusing on the way the shape of his eyes changed so much when he smiled. Ryan felt Ellen put her attention elsewhere, and he was grateful even though he didn't quite feel like talking across the table to thank her for letting him be alone with Brendon. Seeing Brendon's smile prevented Ryan from putting his own smile away. "You do know I hate you, right?"

Brendon laughed quietly. "Hate? Is that what they call it now? I guess I wanna kill you, then, if it's called hate all of a sudden."

"Oh, you have no idea." Ryan finished his juice in one big gulp. "You are so going down."

Brendon tightened his fist underneath Ryan's hand and in turn trapped Ryan's fingers even more, which made Ryan's chest do that fluttery thing that he was beginning to get used to. "So you're gonna make threats now, eh?"

"Just you wait. Never go to a movie with me."

"Why's that?"

"Unless you want to see what it feels like to have an extra large tub of popcorn with extra butter dumped over your head, I would definitely advise against going to a movie with me."

"Well, I'll take my chances."

"Don't say I didn't warn ya. Um... yeah, Bren..." Ryan nodded toward something behind Brendon, and Brendon turned around to see Seth heading toward their table. Keeping his voice quiet, Ryan leaned closer to Brendon so his mouth was closer to Brendon's ear. "Give it a chance, Bren. Please don't get worked up over this."

For a second, Ryan prepared to take his hand away from Brendon's, just out of fear for the situation, but he quickly decided against it. Instead, he loosened his fingers and changed positions a bit, this time lacing their fingers together tightly, just as he had done as a last resort in history class two days before. He felt Brendon squeeze, but it was not a terrified grip. It was just enough to remind himself that Ryan was there.

"You gonna talk to me now, Bro?" Seth pulled an abandoned chair from another table after a nod of permission from the few people who were sitting at the other table.

"What is there to talk about?"

"Plenty."

"I guess I don't see it, then."

"Alright, look. I'm sorry for being a dick this morning. Did you seriously not tell Mom about my shit?"

"No, I didn't fucking tell Mom!"

Ryan lifted their hands a little and pressed his leg against Brendon's to remind Brendon to relax.

"I never told her a damn thing, Seth. She probably found it while she was cleaning. You know Mom cleans whenever she gets pissed off."

"Okay, well, this shit that you do, Brendon. What's with that? I mean, really, how can you do that?"

"It's easy."

"Well I don't get it."

Brendon shrugged. "Sorry? I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to tell me why you do it."

"I already said. I have to."

"No you don't."

"You have no fucking clue, Seth. I don't talk to anyone about this."

Seth looked at Ryan. "Hasn't he told you anything about it?"

Ryan was totally unprepared to answer, so he pretended to look confused. Luckily for him, Seth didn't feel like waiting on an answer.

"Come on, you can't talk to your own brother about this?"

"Maybe I would if you acted like one. But if that was the case, I'd have one less reason to do just about everything I do. Please just leave me alone about it, I just want to sit here, with my friends, and try to enjoy myself."

"Brendon, I'm not trying to ruin anything right now. I just want to talk to you."

"And I just don't want to talk."

"Look. This just fucking scares me, Brendon. You're my little brother. I know I have totally failed at my job of protecting you or whatever shit I was supposed to do but why is it so bad that I want to know why you're doing this to yourself?"

"Have you ever looked at how you talk to me?"

"What am I doing? I am totally calm here, Brendon."

"Not now, but this morning and every other day for the past, what, seven or eight years? You haven't wondered at all about what I thought of that?"

"I know I have been a fucking asshole, Brendon. But I'm not trying to be one now."

"Well, let's see how long you keep this up."

Ryan squeezed Brendon's hand again to tell him he was doing just fine.

"You know, I finally have someone... some people who actually say things to me that don't make me hate every little thing about myself."

"Okay, so you have friends, whatever. I just always thought it was funny how you were alone all the time—"

"Oh, yeah, absolutely hilarious." Brendon nodded sarcastically and rolled his eyes, directing them back to his drink.

"Give me a break, Brendon, you know what I mean."

"Just leave us alone." Brendon attempted to let go of Ryan's hand, but the grip was too strong. Ryan refused to let this encounter end like the one earlier that morning and he pressed their clenched hands down onto Brendon's thigh, leaving Brendon with no other choice but to continue. "You already know I'm fucking crazy now, so why can't you just stay away from me and let it go?"

"You're not crazy but there's something wrong and I want to know what the hell is going on with you."

"No, Seth."

"Why can't you just let me try to help? Or something, fuck, I don't know, just let me do something."

"No, Seth."

"Goddammit Brendon, just talk to me."

Brendon's fingernails started to cut into the back of Ryan's hand. "Not now."

Ryan sensed Brendon's growing frustration and fading self control and he decided to use the clock to his advantage. "Bren, we should probably get to class." As he spoke he lined up both lunch trays and pushed them toward Ellen to get her attention. She quickly turned and nodded, accepting responsibility for clearing the table.

"He's right. I'm walking home today. Leave me alone and we'll talk when I feel like it." Brendon let go of Ryan's hand after one final squeeze and he tucked his things under his arm before quickly escaping the cafeteria by himself.

"Ryan?"

Ryan turned toward Seth and resisted the urge to cower like a scared puppy, even though Seth's voice had not been intimidating at all in the previous few minutes.

"Just... I don't know what his problem is, but could you just look out for him or something? I had no idea this was... fuck, just don't let him do that shit anymore."

"Yeah, I'm working on it, don't worry."

"Well I'm gonna worry. Why does he do that to himself?"

Ryan was afraid to say too much about his friend. "Just not happy, I guess."

"Well you think I'm happy? I don't do that shit, though."

"Yeah, but you do other things though. What he does is just more permanent. But whatever, I'm gonna go find him now." Ryan stood up and pressed his fist against Spencer's upper arm before heading toward the exit. He didn't mind talking to Seth if he was willing to carry on with civil conversation, but he couldn't really be bothered at the moment. Ryan found Brendon to be much more interesting and he was perfectly happy with locating his new friend and discussing things that were simply more comfortable.

Brendon was sitting at the same table in the back of the otherwise unoccupied classroom. He was sitting against the wall, where Ryan had sat two days before, and he was hovering over his notebook again. Ryan joined him at the table and tossed a bit of hair behind his ear so Brendon could easily see the emotion that his face was about to convey, because he knew his words could easily lack substance whenever he spoke.

"Whatcha writing?"

"Just stuff."

"Oh, sounds deep."

No response; Brendon kept writing.

"Brendon, he's just worried about his little brother."

"It's about Goddamn time."

"No, no, just listen. You were fine out there, and I know you pretty much hate him, but I think this deserves a chance. And if he fucks it up, then sure, feel free to get pissed off."

"You have no idea what life has been like with him. It's not as easy as just deciding to give him a fucking kiss and forgetting about everything."

"Oh for fuck's sake, I'm not asking you to marry him." Ryan was caught off guard by his own sudden anger and he noticed Brendon stop moving before pulling his arms and notebook against his chest. Ryan paused for a second, knowing he was out of line. "Sorry."

Brendon shook his head and spoke softly, barely audible. "It's fine."

"Why are you so angry?"

"At what?"

Ryan shook his head. "Everything, you're not happy."

"It's fine."

"But you're just so angry."

With his eyes pointed at the back of the empty chair in front of him, Brendon appeared to be searching his surroundings for answers. "I'm trying."

"Trying to be angry?"

He shook his head again, licking his lips. "I'll talk to him."

Ryan nodded. "That would be good."

"I'm trusting you with this one."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you've seen things, and... I don't know, I just think you're more right about things than I am."

"I'm not perfect, though."

"Well, just about."

"I'm just trying to help."

Brendon prepared to speak, but his facial expression froze as he noticed the old teacher enter the room. He sat his notebook back down and resumed focusing on it, nervously chewing on the end of his pen as she approached their table.

"Class doesn't start for another ten minutes. No need to stop talking yet." She placed two identical sheets of paper in front of Ryan. "Handouts from yesterday that neither of you were here for." Her voice almost held the tone of a question, which caused Ryan to nod his head slightly as she walked away.

"What were you gonna say?"

Brendon quickly shook his head and shoved the pen further into his mouth.

"You're not talking anymore, are ya?"

"Can't." Brendon nodded toward the old bird at the front of the room.

"Class hasn't started yet."

Ryan's protest was met with a stubborn shrug and it was proven to him once again just how hard it was for Brendon to get over anything. Ryan sighed and picked up one of the photocopied papers and balanced it on top of Brendon's head, suppressing a grin as his friend sat still and glared at him. Their serious expressions faded simultaneously and Brendon smiled enough to expose his teeth as he tilted his head forward, allowing the paper to drift down.

"If you're not gonna talk, give me some paper."

Brendon shrugged again and tore a couple blank sheets of paper from the back of the notebook and slid them over. Ryan couldn't get mad at Brendon's refusal to cooperate, because to do so would just be hypocritical of him. As Ryan started to write, he felt himself gaining even more respect for what Spencer and Ellen had to do to put up with his own messes in the past. He decided to stick to writing instead of dragging Brendon off to somewhere secluded where he would end up saying things that he would probably regret right away.

I'm going to talk to you somehow, so you'll just have to be little more forceful than this if you don't want to talk to me. Being quiet won't work since I prefer writing anyways. Even though, as I said before, I am terrible at this stuff. I guess that's why I forgot to mention this. You said it's easier for you to write than actually talk, and that's exactly how I am. I'm totally stupid when it comes to human contact but good lord if you put me in front of a computer I will end up saying so much shit that I would never say out loud. Believe me, with as incoherent as this is, it would be a million times worse if I tried to say it to you. Main point: writing is easier, this I know. If you think it would be better, I will buy stock in the bic company and we will take a vow of silence and spend the rest of our lives passing pieces of paper back and forth. And hey, maybe I'd get better. I hate how I write. Stream of though is not always good, especially when they are my thoughts. God help us all. I don't know why you let this old bat get to you. I think she's funny, really, freaking out and thinking that people should care about what she has to say. Sure, I'm fairly interested in the material in this class, but that's what late night on the internet are for: reading up on obscure moments in history. Eh, it's something to do. But yeah, I don't think you should let her both you so much, but that's just me. You are different. You don't get over things very well, do you? I'm not saying that's a bad thing, you're just bothered by things a lot, it seems. You would be a lot happier if you could fix that but I can't hold it against you since I know it's just how you are, I guess.

My hand's getting tired but I'm not going to stop yet. I see it as punishment for forgetting to say these couple things last time around. You brought up a couple things and of course me, in my total wisdom with my complete grasp on what I wanted to say, I completely forgot to respond to like half of what you said. Ok, I get nervous, so sue me. I just find it really strange that I still remember enough of what you wrote to be able to know that I totally forgot about several things.

About this morning, though. I don't know, maybe it will say enough if I just tell you that every time I think about it, I have to force myself not to smile and look incredibly stupid. I honestly don't even know why, but I don't care. And I liked it too. I know you didn't try to do it, but that doesn't make it any less... whatever, I don't know. I guess I'm just trying to say that regardless, it wasn't cheap. I did like it and I don't care if that's bad, I can't lie about it. I care about you too. I hope you know that by now. God, I hate my lack of communication skills sometimes. It's not even ever this is hard, but I don't know, maybe it's because there's no way in hell that I can just say whatever comes to mind right now. Should I try? I should try.

Let's run away. No, really. Let's just get up and walk out. We can pretend to be sick again. We could lay in my room and fall asleep to the gospel according to Trent Rezvor, because I know you'd like that and I wouldn't mind much either. And yes, sleep and I will probably have none of those dreams. You'll be happy even if it kills me, kid. You'll get over this and I will get some more peaceful sleep at the same time. Completely possible if you want it to be. I want you to say something now. Enough with me saying too much and embarrassing myself. I think you have a lot to say, and I think all I want to do is listen. Sound good? It does to me. But you, Brendon, you need to realize something. No matter hoe much things suck right now, it could always be worse. You're okay, you know? I know you are. You're too nice to not have any good things in your life.. so tell me, what are they? Life has to suck for everyone at some point. You should try to see things differently and maybe you will see that it's not as bad as it seems, if that makes sense. It worked for me, so I don't know, maybe it can help you too?

So. Smile? And, I know, 999 more hugs. I haven't forgot.

-RR

Ryan's letter was shut inside Brendon's notebook shortly after the bell rang to dismiss the class. Brendon had accepted the unfolded sheets of fully covered paper with a shy smile and they walked out of the room in silence, side by side, Ryan's lack of vocalization conveying so much about what he had just written. He didn't mind walking silently with Brendon. He knew that there was much more between them than a few forced words could ever describe and he was not bothered by this. Any words he could try to speak were sure to come out all wrong, laced with so much frustration that their intended meaning would never be visible through the cloud of teenage uncertainty and adult apprehension.

Brendon spent his time in study hall slightly turned away from Ryan. He appeared content with his helpful ability to block out the rest of the world as he concentrated on what he was writing and Ryan found it difficult to concentrate on anything at all, other than the way Brendon's eyes would start to become narrow as his lower lip fell victim to his tongue and teeth while he stared down at the paper in deep thought. Ryan began to wonder if Brendon could feel his eyes studying his body, sometimes freezing in place when they happened to land on something interesting that he wanted to remember. He snapped out of his comfortable gaze as Brendon moved unexpectedly to glance at the paper that was full of Ryan's more recent thoughts.

There was too much risk in all this staring. Ryan remembered the writing assignment that had been due the day before, and he remembered that he had not even started to give it any thought. He was usually good at pulling ideas out of nowhere to give the appearance of having put forth effort, but not this time. Ryan knew that he would have to resort to being a smartass and try to appeal to what he hoped he had interpreted correctly as Miss Davis's easygoing side.

Asylum

Ryan Ross

Some river somewhere, two people, alone.

(Hey, you said no more than a page. So, A+?)

Ryan instantly thought of the perfect excuse for if she failed to see whatever humor there may have been. He would blame it on the river that he wrote it about, and it wouldn't even be a lie. He would have done his work had he not gone there, and he had never been so glad to have not done his homework.

His writing assignment was nicely hidden away in his folder for several minutes while Ryan stared at his hands. He focused on the slight, calming pain from his fingers in order to keep his eyes away from Brendon. His peripheral vision told him that Brendon had reluctantly quit writing, probably due to frustration caused by every word in his vocabulary turning against him and not letting him use them properly. Ryan was very familiar with that feeling but he kept himself from saying anything. He was busy thinking things over in his head and running his mind in and out of different incidents that had happened in the past few days. He wanted to go back to the river and have the option of never leaving, but at the same time, he wanted to leave and go back to his house, forcing Brendon to stay with him. That way, nothing bad would have happened. Eliminate the middleman, Ryan thought, and keep Brendon with him instead of letting him go home. There was so much he wanted to change, even though it had all been perfect in his mind. He knew that everything that had happened would have been much different. There would have been no music and no Blink 182 shirt and no dry cereal eaten out of the box. But with the one thing he wanted to change, Ryan wasn't even sure it would have happened if the circumstances were any different. He started to think of ways that he could have stayed in bed longer, pinned between the wall and his friend, safe in the arms of love and peaceful sleep. Suddenly, with this image coming to him, every little thing that had happened recently began to attack him. He felt his eyes widen. Helpless, he froze, and Ryan was officially thinking about too much at once. He realized that everything happens for a reason.

"Hey."

Ryan didn't have to look anywhere to know that Brendon's greeting was directed toward him. He had been finding himself more and more able to detect the gentle voice that Brendon used to speak to him. "Hey." He continued staring at his hands, his fingers now violating the corner of his folder, nearly tearing it apart piece by piece.

"What were you writing over there?"

"That... paper, thing. The one for Davis."

"Oh. Yeah."

Ryan nodded, stopping short of making it a mutual question and asking Brendon what he had been writing. "Yep."

"Hey." Brendon's voice was quiet and he pushed himself sideways a short distance so he was sitting against Ryan. Nobody noticed, due to the teacher's indifference about students talking and socializing during study hall. Everyone was too busy. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Huh? Oh... no, thinking..." Ryan didn't like it when his mind put his voice on autopilot because he usually ended up sounding like he was either on drugs or completely uninterested in the other person or the conversation they were trying to have.

"You're quiet. Whatcha thinking?"

Ryan's inhibitions were dead. "I think you're beautiful." Oh, on drugs, for sure. Definitely not uninterested, just definitely on drugs. Ryan forgot to breathe and he felt his face lose all color as his ears started to stop working. The surge of chemicals inside his body made him feel dizzy, and his lowered ability to concentrate on the sounds around him made him feel like he was trapped inside a thick cardboard box, but he didn't really think that would be too bad of a place to be at this moment.

Damn you, Stephanie.

Ryan didn't bother looking at Brendon. He hoped that his lack of sound and motion would help him disappear a little, or at best, just erase what had just happened. That vow of silence was starting to sound pretty good. His mouth and his sudden absence of inner monologue had gotten him in trouble for the first and last time.

After a brief lack of response from Brendon, there came the request that Ryan desperately wanted to resist, but doing so would have made everything even worse. He knew that it was entirely possible for the situation to be worse, although not by much. Brendon's arm crossed in front of him and the back of his hand was used on Ryan's jaw to force his head to turn. Ryan blinked his eyes shut for a long time as opposed to looking directly at Brendon's face, but he had to pry his eyes open in order to avoid looking like he simply planned on keeping his eyes closed. Ryan just wanted to run away and cry. He had never cried for this reason before, but there is always a first for everything. Instead, he made himself stay. Brendon's hand seemed to take forever to slide down off of his face and land on his arm, and it took even longer for it to move away from Ryan's body altogether.

Brendon didn't speak. His red cheeks stuck out very slightly with the small, honest smile that formed on his face. Ryan felt a little more comfortable when he was forced to look at Brendon's reaction, but even when his eyes met with Brendon's pleasantly surprised expression, he still felt like death might just be an okay option at that time. Brendon's smile quickly grew bigger and he turned his face away to avoid more awkward staring. He slid back to his own seat, which was not very far, and glanced back at Ryan. Before Brendon looked back to what he had been writing, Ryan forced his lips to curl slightly, forming a smile that partially said "I'm sorry" while also saying "I mean it" in some kind of scared, honest way.

Time didn't seem like it wanted to move. Ryan folded his arms and laid his head down to keep himself from staring any more and once again his mind was taken over by another song that he let run through his head. His zoning out stopped just short of turning into sleep as soon as the bell rang, and he lifted his head to find himself face to face with Brendon.

The boy was leaning over the table with his face precariously close to Ryan's before he pulled away to stand up straight, dropping a square of paper in front of Ryan's arms. "Just read it later, alright?"

"Oh, yeah... okay, yeah, later." Ryan struggled to take control of his voice and he slipped the paper into his pocket while he slowly stood up, still tired from his partial nap.

"Thanks."

Ryan caught sight of the smile on Brendon's face. He was not familiar with this specific expression but he knew he could easily get used to the small grin that resulted in one corner of Brendon's mouth being raised just slightly higher than the other. This observation resulted in a fascination big enough to keep Ryan quiet once again while they walked down the hallway.

Spencer always knew when it wasn't a good time to talk to Ryan. He caught the message on Ryan's face as soon as he came through the door, and he decided to respect it by addressing his friend with only a satisfied grin and a small nudge as soon as Ryan sat down. Miss Davis laughed when she accepted Ryan's paper before she laid it down on her desk and began to speak to the class, but Ryan didn't feel like paying attention. He opened his eyes after a couple seconds to make a random face at Spencer in order to get him to quit grinning at him, but he looked away again and started staring at the wall. His leg was casually resting against Brendon's as they both pretended not to realize it, and the unread letter almost felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket.