All
boys school CH10.
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From CH9:
"Oh god, I was so scared I
lost you,
A blood curdling scream ran through the crowd, Chris' mother stood screaming, as the fireman pulled her husband out of the rubble, looking near
death. The paramedics took it from there
and quickly took him away in the ambulance.
The crowd grew silent; the sirens squealed no more. The stillness of the shock hit them all.
*-*-*
Once the fire had passed...it began, a man gave his coat to a stranger in need, a woman shared her food with those just passing by, and a fireman reunited a woman with her worried girlfriend. These are the things that happen in the wake of any great disaster, people start to perform small acts of kindness, they do what they can to help...all the while knowing it wont be enough.
"It'll be fine sweetie, I swear." Ryan gently cooed, as he lightly
rubbed Chris's back. A quiet sniffle issued from Chris, his father had been
taken into EMERGENCY over an hour ago, and Chris was starting to feel the burn.
The adrenaline from the fire was finally diminishing, and taking Chris's
strength with it.
The indefinite hum and churn of various machines, with people panicking and
talking mutated into one big roar, which slammed into Chris's ears and began to
override his heart. Staring into space brief childhood memories flashed into
his head, so vivid and loud, he tried to push them away but the more he
pushed...they more they pushed back.
Rose's heels clacked and clicked over the sterile marble of the waiting room, pacing backwards and forwards. Her deep emerald green dress, what was left of it, singed and burnt, loosely followed Rose's movements, like a tired ghost clinging desperately to her body...to a strand of life.
"Rose Jenkins?" Doctor Gregory Macintosh questioned his gentle eyes and calming voice, seeming to cut like a knife through the chaos and bring mellow sincerity into the room. Gregory's build was tall and well-built, being a player of tennis and a regular swimmer, had given him the body of a Greek god, even encased in doctor clothes, his physique was noticeable...and by god did the female nurses (and some of the male ones) notice. However, his strong crush you like a bug build made his heart and personality a surprise, beneath the build of a super-hero laid the heart of a prince, sensitive and kind Gregory was in no short supply of Date opportunities...but he hadn't accepted...he was waiting for the thunderbolt...that feeling in the very pit of his soul and sky of his heart that he had met the right woman.
"Yes." Rose croaked, her cheeks streaked with water-smudged eyeliner and soot from the blast. Rose's soft eyes had hardened over the last few hours, a thin line of red along the bottom of each eye, made them stand out on stalks, and the ferocity of her tears had left her eyes dry and searching, ever searching.
"He's going to be fine." Dr.Gregory said, the compassion in his voice, once again cutting through the air like a knife to butter, as a smile graced Rose's lips, followed by a shriek of gladness from her throat. "We managed to stop the bleeding; he has two broken ribs and a concussion, he will have to take it easy for a while" The Dr. Gregory continued, but it fell on slightly deaf ears, as Rose and Chris had pushed passed him, and went into Mark Jenkins's room, laughter and happiness rose, like smoke from the room, covering the panic and sorrow in the waiting room in a thin blanket of safety and giddiness.
Ryan slowly walked outside of the hospital, the cold night air
catching in his throat and cooling his body of the humid heat inside the
hospital. The stars glinted like small secrets, tossed into the sky by those
who had dared whisper them, each one different, each one baring a different
secret, another tale to tell.
"
"Ryan, listen..." he said very quietly, as the buzz of passing cars and patients grew louder around them and people kept walking past. "I can't be with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together"
Ryan said, with an oddly twisted smile, "It's for some stupid, noble reason isn't it?"
"It's been like ... like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you," said Chris. "But I can't ...we can't. With all the fag-haters around here, some of them friends of mine, it's like hiding in broad daylight. I can't put you at risk. They'll hurt you" Ryan didn't cry, he simply looked at Chris.
"What if I don't care?" said Ryan fiercely.
"I Care," Said Chris "I couldn't bear it, being here again, but with you lying
on a slab in the morgue. And if it was my fault ... I just wish I'd asked you out
sooner, we could've had ages ... months ... year's maybe ..."
"But you've been too busy, smoking and drinking alcohol Ah the burdens bad boys
must bear" Said Ryan, Half-laughing, the joke made Chris smile, but it didn't
make this any easier. "I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this might happen. I
knew you wouldn't be happy if I was in any sort of danger, you love me, just as
much as I love you."
Chris could not bear to hear these things, nor did he think his solution would
hold if he remained sitting beside Ryan. Rose, he saw, was now outside with his
Dad having a cigarette. With a miserable Gesture, Chris got up, turned his back
on Ryan and the roses and walked towards his mum and dad.
*-*-*
Ryan lay stiffly in bed, his knees tucked up to his chin, as he
sobbed quietly to himself. Chris was just down the hall; Ryan could hear his
music smashed through the walls. Ryan had been in this room for two days, the
curtains closed. He refused to see the light of day, the chance that life will
have moved on, that he would have to deal with it.
"Ryan, Honey, you've got to eat" Rose said, gently letting herself
into his room, the bed noticeable creaked and dipped her under weight...she
wasn't fat, but compared to Ryan she was huge. "These things happen." The soft
pity in her voice, cut to him like a shard of glass, he KNEW `These things
happened', he just wanted to be left alone to deal with them.
"I'm Sure Chris will come to his sense's in no time and realise his mistake"
said Rose, she could of swung for her son, but she knew it was between Ryan and
Chris...she had n right to interfere or pry...but she'd be dammed if she was going
to let Ryan go through this alone. Ryan finally came out from under the covers,
to Rose's pleasure and shock.
Ryan's hair was unwashed and tatted, his cheeks paler then usual...and his eyes
raw with crying. Without a word, he stood to his usual straight-backed posture
and walked from the room, in nothing but his black Calvin Klein boxers. The
Bathroom door, shut quietly and the sound of rushing water echoed down the
hall.
"How is he?" said Chris, poking his head into Ryan's bedroom, a look of regret and concern written across his face.
"Coping, He's a strong person, but it's taking its toll, and my
heart goes out to him, but I understand and know why you did what you did" Rose
said motherly, before she stood and left the room, walking downstairs and
pouring Ryan a vodka, which she was sure he would need when he came downstairs.
Chris walking into Ryan's room, the room was tidy, excepted for the un-made bed, everything had its own place and purpose. Chris's feet tangled, and he tripped slightly, but managed top stay up-right. Ryan's White shirt lay at his feet, picking it up in one swift movement; he buried his face into in. Tears started to fill his eyes as the smell of peaches and strawberry's filled his nose...Ryan's smell, the sweet aroma flooded his mind with memories, making his heart reach out for comfort and his eyes sting with more tears, it was all he could do not to break down and cry. Dragging himself from the room, he dropped the shirt and ran back to his room, turning his music the MAX and grabbing his guitar, he let his soul seep into the strings, and played until his fingers bled.
The warm water licked and splashed at his skin, making it sing
with ease, as Ryan washed his hair, and body, his hands touching his skin,
memories of Chris kissing him, holding him and making love to him charged into
his mind, like a rouge horse or loose cannon. Ryan cried into the shower...but no
one knew, because once he emerged from the Bathroom, He was once again...perfect.
Wearing loose green combat pants, and a fitted yellow t-shirt he went
downstairs, downed the vodka Rose had left for him, and settled in to watch
Desperate Housewives.
Look out for chapter 11