2003, Late November

Ryan is so incredibly angry. However, he is also very adept at hiding his emotions. When Ryan gets angry, he doesn't throw fits or become so enraged that he starts shaking, no, Ryan just... Shuts down, very clearly. Although lack of communication leads most people to think he's only being his usual quiet self. Thus, less people bother him, by asking: "Are you okay?" every two seconds, which would only do little to aid him, in his mind. If you're angry, maybe you should just let yourself be angry?

However, Brendon Urie is not most people. Brendon Urie somehow manages to figure out something's wrong with Ryan.

At the moment, it's lunch hour, Ryan is sitting by himself as usual out on the benches surrounding a somewhat dying willow tree. It's beautiful out here, yet not many of the students come out to admire the scenery.

But today was the day that Brendon saw Ryan sulk out here to the benches, and decided to follow him. Today was also the day Ryan was infuriated, because he forgot to take his meds and he's had a pounding headache all day. Normally, Ryan would call his mother to come home and take his Tyroxinex, but he mainly only wanted to prove to himself that he could handle the inconvenience of reading, even if he forgot.

Brendon slowly approached where Ryan sat, with his back to him. They were far enough from the cafeteria that it was actually somewhat quiet and peaceful. Ryan always felt lucky no one else took advantage of these quiet hideaway under the willow tree.

"Um," Brendon spoke softly, for lack of better words, really only to make his presence known to an unaware Ryan. "Holy shit!" Ryan exclaimed, jumping slightly when he turned around to see Brendon. His frail hands clutched his chest.

"Sorry," Brendon laughed, moving to sit next to Ryan, who immediately recoiled and Brendon's face quickly fell. "Uh, I'm sorry," he tried again as Ryan continued not so subtlety scooting away from him.

"Oh," Ryan's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, his eyes looking worried, but nit directly at Brendon. "It's um, it's okay, really, I just- I like a lot of person space," he laughed nervously.

Brendon's face seemingly lit up, with a new found hope. "Oh, okay. That's understandable."

Ryan nodded. "I, uh, I have a headache, so, I'm probably just gonna-"

"Oh, I've got some Advil. Or Ibuprofen. Or Tylenol? You want some?"

"Yeah, sure," Ryan nodded, and Brendon began searching through the small pocket in his backpack. He reached in and grabbed a small baggie of dozens of pills. Thankfully, Ryan hadn't recognized any as Tyroxinex or else he would have several more questions rather than why Brendon had a pharmacy in his backpack.

"That's a lot of pills," Ryan laughed as he held out his hand. Brendon placed two pills into his hand, and then dove one hand back into his backpack, emerging with a bottle of water.

"You've really got it all," Ryan remarked as he took the bottle and gratefully swallowed both pills. Brendon beamed brightly at him, looking into his eyes while Ryan looked slightly above Brendon's.

This had always been worrisome to Brendon, but he'd never gathered up enough courage to ask until now. They didn't know each other that well, - granted they worked on an essay together, scoring an A, but Ryan had been somewhat distant immediately after the fact - and it always left Brendon hesitant to ask personal questions. Brendon never found an issue too personal, but apparently, other people did.

"Do you wear glasses?" He asked Ryan who looked down at his thumbs, very literally twiddling them around. "Huh? No."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"You just, I've never seen you look into my eyes," Brendon stated, lacking any negative emotion, speaking calmly, as if he were to frighten Ryan.

"I have," Ryan said softly.

"You have?"

"Yeah," Ryan nodded to the ground. "Once, at my house, in the hall."

"Isn't that when you fainted?"

"Yeah," Ryan chuckled slightly. "Thanks for helping me out, by the way. And calling my mom. And bringing me to my room. And starting the essay," he finished with a smile.

Brendon, still staring at Ryan who twiddled his thumbs, returned the smile easily.

•••••

Brendon hauled the last of his things into his room, and exhaled once he fully took in his room. Perhaps by design, Brendon's window faced the house he knew as Ryan's, and there was one window directly across from him. Luckily, that was Ryan's room.

He had not hung out with Ryan in too long, and he knew Ryan had been growing more and more depressed; courtesy of Ryan's mother reaching out to Brendon. He sucked in a breath, and began walking to Ryan's.

The walk was a long and treacherous seconds from Brendon's house, and he miraculously arrived unscathed at Ryan's doorstep. Knocking only a couple times, the door opened swiftly to reveal Ryan, in only sweatpants and a T-shirt. His hair was just tastefully messy, and he looked tired.

"Oh," Ryan said, looking slightly surprised. By now, Brendon was used to Ryan's staring anyway but his eyes. "You're not the pizza guy?" Brendon laughed and passed Ryan, moving into Ryan's house.

"Your mom's not home yet," Brendon observed, looking out the living room window, and into the near empty driveway.

"Nope," Ryan agreed.

Brendon was already in Ryan's room, sitting on his bed, when Ryan walked in, looking nervous.

"Brendon... can I tell you something?" Ryan asked timidly, moving to sit on the bed beside him, and Brendon nodded quickly.

"I'm a Cephalfertarian."

"Oh," Brendon said, diverting his gaze from Ryan quickly. His palms felt clammy, and uncomfortable. "Do- Do you read my thoughts?"

Does he know I like him?

"No, not if I can help it... It's, it's not voluntary. Not a lot of the time. I've never voluntarily looked at your thoughts. And I can't shape them... Are you scared of me?" Ryan asked gently, doing his best to hide his annoyance.

"I... How do I know you're not lying?" Brendon looked down at the ground, his cheeks slightly pink, ignoring Ryan's question.

"I can show you," Ryan suggested.

"Will it hurt?" He asked cautiously, looking back at Ryan, worryingly.

"No," Ryan shook his head, placing a hand in either side of Brendon's face, causing Brendon's posture to stiffen immediately.

Focusing his eyes, Ryan stared into Brendon's eyes, making sure he stared deep into the dark pupils. Moving forward quickly, he gripped Brendon's shoulders, hard enough to surely leave bruises. Brendon yelped in surprise, and tried to pull away, but by then he was already losing consciousness.

Ryan barely registered his own chin hitting his chest, and everything was dark.

Brendon's eyes slowly opened, and he sat in the same room as before; Ryan's room. "I- I don't understand?" Brendon asked, looking at Ryan, who for once, looked into his eyes directly.

"Shh, you're asleep," Ryan told him, smiling softly and raising a finger to his lips, giving a quick wink to Brendon.

"What? Asleep? Am I dead?" Brendon rushed, his eyes growing wide. Ryan laughed, gently, and stood from the bed, walking backwards slowly.

"No, no, you're definitely not dead. You're asleep. I made you sleep. I told you; I'm a reader. That bullshit they teach you at our school? It's all wrong, alright? And it just," Ryan sighed, his eyebrows angrily furrowing.

"It pisses me off. I'm not scary, alright?" His voice steadily rising as he grew angrier. "I don't kill innocent children when people piss me off!" Ryan threw his arms up, letting them crash against his sides on their way down.

He turned his back to Brendon, and next he blinked; the entire room slowly faded away, being replaced by a large clearing in a forest. Glancing back over his shoulder at Brendon, who still sat on Ryan's bed that had come along for the ride. Brendon's mouth agape, his eyes wide.

"What else can you do...?" He asks, standing from the bed, as it seemingly dissolves into thin air. Brendon swirled around to search for the bed that seemingly disappeared. He was still scared, and it annoyed Ryan a great deal, but he knew it would take time to get used to.

"Um," Ryan scratched the back of his head. "It's hard; to do this. I'll be tired when I wake up just because I changed the scenery. Uh, I, sometimes I can bring people into the dreams. Like my, um, my dad. Sometimes I can't control it. It's more of a nightmare." Ryan spoke quietly.

"I'm still a little confused. I had no idea readers could do... This," Brendon said, looking around the forest. Birds were chirping, and the trees were tall and green. The undergrowth was lush, the sun shone through the leaves of the trees gently.

"It, um," Ryan sat down onto what at first was nothing, however a tree stump materialized for him. "It's kind of like how, how- Daydreams are while you're awake, you know?" Brendon nodded once. "And those are just thoughts, but with a main idea sometimes. Like, a plot. So I can see what's going on in your head, like thoughts, which are weird and choppy. And, uh, if I'm asleep the same time as someone else, sometimes I'll unwillingly be thrown into their dreams. Or nightmares. I hide out a lot. It's easier than explaining why am in everyone's dream," he paused momentarily. "It's a lot more exhausting, but I can do this, too. It's not all good, uh, I black out a lot, and uh, speaking of, we have to wake up. I don't feel good..."

"How do we-" Ryan made eye contact with Brendon, and before he realized what was happening, Brendon felt his eyes tightly shut, and when he opened them he was sitting on Ryan's bed, with Ryan's hands in his shoulders. He inhaled quickly, and shook slightly. He felt cold and out of place.

Ryan's eyes were still closed, and his grip on Brendon's shoulders loosened greatly as Brendon shook him awake. "Hey, hey! Ryan!"

His eyes opened slowly, and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Hey."