Endings and Beginnings
Title: Endings and Beginnings
Author: colinsgal
Pairing: Ry/Col
rating: pg-13
word count:
People watch the show and they see what they want to see. Perfection. Paradoxical, absolutely infuriating perfection. Flawless performances, great collaboration - incredible chemistry - it's all there for everyone to see, and it's perfect. Perfect for the audience, for the show, for the network - perfect.
But it's transitory.
Fleeting, momentary - in a blink of an eye, inside 25 short minutes it's gone and then reality is there, knocking on the door like the grim reaper himself, telling you that your time is up and perfection has lived out its short existence in your life. The tapings have finished, after more seasons than I can remember, and there's a party - to 'celebrate'.
Another paradox, because we have nothing to celebrate. For us it's the end; of everything that seems to give us light and hope in an otherwise mundane existence. I've always said that whose line was the greatest gift I've ever been given. First and foremost, because it pulled me out of my increasingly cavernous financial hole and gave me a career, but more importantly, because it was Ryan who gave it to me. It was Ryan who persuaded the producers to give me another shot; Ryan who had faith and could see what nobody else, not even I, could see.
And now it's all come crashing to an end. No, not crashing - that would have been fitting, but it's as if the flame has been slowly flickering, and now it's snuffed out, the light extinguished and the darkness is creeping in, engulfing our senses and signalling the end. It's not just the show - it's never been just about the show. We've all done other work and we'll all work again. Yes, I'm sad to see it come to an end - we all are, but I know – we know, hell, I think everyone must know that it's not just because we've sat in those four chairs for the last time that I'm huddled in the furthest corner of the room with a glass of warm scotch trying not to look at Ryan whilst he tries not to look at me because we both know what this means for us.
He gave me everything. He gave me himself, utterly and completely and in a way that no one else ever could. Nothing could ever come close to what we have - or had, as the case may be, because nothing lasts forever. I knew not long after I first met Ryan that I'd love him forever. It wasn't a conscious choice - there was just something between us that clicked, like he was the part of me I'd never even realised was missing. I know he felt it too, although neither of us ever said as much - it wasn't necessary to talk about it. As much as I often thought about it, I never dared to consider suggesting we take things further. I dismissed any of those thoughts from my mind and put them down to too much alcohol or not enough sleep, even though I knew I was fooling myself. But Ryan being Ryan read my mind and could see where I was going; where I wanted us to go, and I thanked God that he's not as much of a coward as I am. I told him afterwards that he'd taken a huge risk when I saw the fire dance in his eyes and he pressed me into the couch in my dressing room and kissed me as if his entire life depended on it. Closing his eyes sleepily and smiling as my hands raked through his curls he'd simply shaken his head and said that a risk is a chance where you're not sure of the reactions you might encounter.
He said he'd known me too long not to be able to gauge my reactions.
As usual he was completely right.
-o-
When Ryan and I got together it felt like I had certainty for the first time in my life. With whose line, with him, I knew where I was, who I was and everything was safe. It was the one time in the year where I could assuredly say I was content. That's not to say that I was unhappy or dissatisfied with the rest of my life - that's not the case, but you know when you find something, something that just makes you whole -you know that it stands alone and nothing else can ever compare to it. The announcement that the show would terminate after its current run generated the usual gamut of emotions - sadness, anger, confusion, perhaps even joy for some. Selfishly my first thought was not about the future for the show or its performers, but for me and Ryan - what would happen to us now; what did this mean for our future?
Financially we were all in a good position. I knew I'd always want to work because that was just me - I always wanted the security of a job, and I found myself agreeing to go in on a tour with Brad before even reading into the logistics of it. My mind was on anything but work as we prepared to film the final set of tapings for the last time. Everyone was talking about future plans - Greg was going back to stand up for a while, Wayne was going to concentrate on some music and mentioned something about Vegas, Jeff wasn't sure what he was going to do yet, but didn’t seem to care much and appeared to be content with a few dates with whose live anyway for the meantime. Brad, as I said, had expressed interest in doing an improv tour with me and I'll admit that I said yes to initially stop him plaguing me about it night and day. Ryan, as I expected, was tight lipped about everything. We spent a lot of time just looking at each other; both of us trying to read each other in the hope that we could avoid talking about the inevitable. Ryan had made his money a long time ago; I knew that he'd wanted to wind down for a while now; I even had to reprimand myself for thinking that maybe perhaps he had wished for this, for the show to end so that he could settle into an early retirement and spend his days on the golf course. Needless to say, one look in his eyes and I knew that I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The final takes had been flawless, just like many others, and I think we'd all forgotten that this would be the last time we'd all be doing this. Drew's buzzer signalled the end for the last time, the credits were read and Dan came out and made a joke that Ryan should at least be thankful that he'd sung his last hoedown. He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, which were firmly focused on some non existent spot on the wall; I knew that he wanted to get as far away from all this as possible. Someone - Mark, if I remember - brought out some champagne and handed us all a glass. Dan spoke, thanking the crew and our final audience, before thanking us all in turn. It was excruciating, but no more so than when Dan turned to Ryan and I suddenly realised that he must have asked him to say a few words. It was the first time I ever saw Ryan stumped; he just shook his head and mumbled something about formal speeches never being his forte. Slowly, the audience drifted away and everyone gravitated backstage.
There's always been something spooky about a TV or theatre set when it's not in use - like a deserted house but with the remnants of the people who lived there still firmly in place. Without the performers, without the audience, it's just lifeless- a relic, a shell; just an imprint of what used to be, and what will never be again.
Drew's desk, a tin of altoid mints, lid open and a few scattered haphazardly where he'd tipped them over. Prompt cards covered the surface, soon to be cleared away and trashed, along with a mug of coffee never to be refilled. His chair, turned at an angle where he'd just recently vacated it would probably end up in an ABC office somewhere in the lot. The four chairs that we'd occupied for more years than I cared to remember would now forever be empty, who knows where they'd end up. It's weird, but before every taping I'd always take a wander through the set, even before the crew arrived. It's a ritual, a superstition I'd always done; spend a few moments looking at the set, probably to remind myself that I wasn't dreaming, I actually did this for a living. Seeing those 4 chairs always held a sense of anticipation and a surge of adrenaline for me, but as I looked at them now, curiously lit by the pale grey of the spotlight in the darkness, they were almost funereal. And suddenly I couldn't look at them any more, because this time I knew that when I sat down, Ryan wouldn’t appear from the wings to take his place beside me.
-o-
I could tell that everyone was diligently avoiding talking to me for any longer than was necessary, only exchanging pleasantries as they passed me en route to the drinks table. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and the one person I did want to talk to I was deliberately avoiding because I knew I didn’t want to have that conversation either (see previous references to my being a coward). One by one everyone left, until only Ryan and I remained, facing each other from our respective corners on opposite sides of the room. I looked at him, unable to move as if my body was rooted to the spot, even though I wanted nothing more than to run straight to him. If I did that, however, I knew that I'd be running straight into goodbye, and I couldn’t let myself do that.
'This isn't it, you know' he mumbled, his hands fidgeting in what I had come to recognise as nervous tension. He was only arms length from me and I hadn’t even seen him walking towards me.
I reached for him on instinct and he loosely laced his fingers through mine, though still unable to meet my eyes, and for that I think I was momentarily glad.
'I don’t want this to end, Ry' I swallowed, trying my best to hold back the tears I'd been fighting all day.
Ryan's eyes snapped up to meet mine, fixing me with a look of determination that was glaring through in spite of his own tears.
'It won't Col, never, do you think I'd let that happen? You're my best friend and I love you more than any-'
We both broke down as, unable to finish his sentence, Ryan pulled me to him and cried softly into my neck, my own tears pooling on his shoulder. As I coaxed him from my arms I reached to wipe the tears from his cheeks.
'All good things-'
'No, Col' he shook his head, 'don't say that. We'll make it work, I promise'.
I smiled, but I couldn’t stop myself from sobbing. I knew there was more to us than whose line, but I also knew that we only saw each other during the tapings - it was the one thing that offered us prolonged periods of time together, time when it could be just us, our own little world, and now that was being taken away from us. It could never be the same; I knew Ryan just didn’t want to face that.
'We've had good years together, Ry. More than we were probably ever entitled to. Maybe this is just a way of telling us we've had our time'.
'No' Ryan pulled away from me, his stubbornness coming to the fore.
'Ryan…don't make this harder than it already is, please'
'Me?! You're the one wanting to end things. Just because the show's finished doesn’t mean that we are'
'Ry, I don’t want things to end' I pleaded, hating how difficult this was, 'but we've got to be realistic. The only proper times we've had over the years have been when we've been taping - you know that.'
'So? We'll make time, Jesus Colin it's not that difficult. Not unless you want it to be.'
But I knew it wasn't going to be easy either.
I sighed. Once his anger and stubborn streak had settled in there was no working with Ryan; anything else I said would only serve to aggravate him. Ryan works on emotions - he doesn’t care too much for logic.
'I don’t want to fight, Ry' I whispered
He nodded, moving towards me and cupping my face in his hands before kissing me gently, his touch so intoxicating that I melted instantly into his embrace and couldn’t have cared less if anyone had walked in and seen us.
'You gonna do this tour thing with Brad?' he asked, resting his forehead against mine as his hands held my waist.
'Probably, once I actually sit down with him and ask him just what it is I've agreed to'.
We laughed, genuinely for the first time that week and it felt good to be laughing with him once again.
'All right then. Here's what we'll do. I'll go back to Bellingham and you set up your tour with Brad and we'll go from there. Free days, long weekends - whatever, we'll work it out. I've got no immediate plans, just gonna chill for a while, so I'll work around you, ok? I might even get on one of those bean cans you call an aeroplane. Just for you.'
His eyes met mine and as ever, it seemed like everything would be all right.
-o-
When I finally sat down to have a proper talk with Brad, I realised that what I had signed up for wasn't - well what I thought I'd signed up for. It seemed that Brad planned to cover as much of the USA and Canada in as short a space of time as was humanly possible in an attempt to bring the joy of improv to the masses. His enthusiasm was infectious and I admit that once we got to talking I was grateful for the distraction of a big project; anything to divert my mind and it also had the added bonus that I wasn't going to be spending countless days having to take up DIY at home, which would only serve to drive both myself and Deb crazy. The mousetrap game I was less keen on, but Brad assured me it would be a hit so I told him I'd think about it.
And that was that.
There was a lot to organise for the tour, a lot of people to talk to, venues to decide, and dates to schedule, and whilst it was good from the point of view of serving as a distraction, it left me with very little time to think about some time at home, never mind decent time with Ryan. I called him - because he'd never call me, because Ryan doesn't call - but it never seemed to be enough. At first he shared my enthusiasm, but as time went on and things got in the way of our plans, his enthusiasm started to wane and our conversations; subsequently our relationship, started to suffer. I missed him terribly - more than I could ever describe, but the time just wasn’t there where I could travel to him or he could come to me. Any free time I had, which was sparse enough as it was, I had to go home to Toronto. I had so desperately wanted for us to prove me wrong, but as the days turned into months and I watched the seasons change as we travelled from state to state, I knew that my initial fears had been right. When we lost whose line it had taken with it exactly what it had given me all those years ago. And there was nothing I could do to stop that.
Ryan and I still spoke; I told him how much I missed him, but the talk of meeting no longer filled our conversations. It was as if we knew how futile it was, but gradually it didn't seem to hurt as much, and I think we began to stop blaming each other. Ryan had committed to more work for Two and a Half Men, which I was grateful for, because I knew it would be good for him. However much he might have complained about the rigorous taping schedule for whose line, I knew that Ryan needed to work. Without performing he'd go crazy, and I worried about him.
-o-
As the years passed I could say that things got easier, but that wouldn’t strictly speaking be true. What I will concede to is that missing Ryan no longer occupied my every waking moment, but the times when I'd be sitting alone on the bus, or reading the paper and I'd find something that would remind me of him, then it would hit me like a train wreck and I found myself right back to square one. Our relationship had gone from having weeks together at a time to chance and brief encounters as and when they presented themselves to us. The night he showed up at Urban Improv, took me completely by surprise. I had no idea that he'd be there, the thought never entered my mind, but when I saw him walking across the stage towards me it felt for the first time in a long time that the Gods were back in our corner. Sure, it was just another night, but to me it was much more - because Ryan had made the effort to make it a surprise, and that reassured me. That he still thought I was worth it, I guess. Our paths would occasionally cross at one of Drew's Improv All Stars gigs, but I didn’t really look forward to those nights as chances to be with Ryan, because they were work first and foremost, and second they were a time for everyone to catch up with everyone. Sneaking off for the night alone together after the show was a non starter.
When all is said and done, it doesn’t matter how much older we both are, I still miss him like hell, and if I could be with him now like we were then I wouldn’t hesitate for a heartbeat. If anything, I miss him more than I ever did. Undoubtedly there is a sense of insecurity that increases as you get older. I guess it's a fear that you'll somehow end up alone; that invincibility you have in your youth deserts you and you realise that suddenly you're vulnerable. Maybe it's a mid life crisis, I don't know, but I know that every now and then it'll hit me, almost like a panic attack, that I'll never see Ryan again, or the fact that we've wasted so much time, time that we can never recover. We'll never be alone - we both have our families, but it's not the same. As time goes by I find myself more and more resentful of the fact we couldn’t have been together; somehow now it's too late. Ryan always said that it would never be too late, but I think deep down both of us know that it is, and the fact remains that the time for doing something about it has long since passed.
I cherish the time we have together, because it's so infrequent that we owe it to ourselves to make the most of it. I think Ryan deals with the situation better than I do, or at least, he gives me that impression because he can no doubt see how insecure and vulnerable I've become. When we met up in Montreal after the Just For Laughs Festival and managed to convince Deb and Pat to leave us to our own devices, I told him how I'd been feeling for the first time. We lay in the apartment he'd rented and I blinked away tears as I found myself asking myself why it couldn’t be like this all the time. Ryan held me and comforted me like a child, and I know it sounds stupid, but if anything I feel more vulnerable when I'm with him, because I can feel the fragility of our relationship and I know I can do nothing to stop it being taken away from me, no matter how hard I want to hold on. He's there, he's with me, but the only thing I can focus on is the fact that I'm always going to lose him. I clung to him; silently praying that somehow we could turn back time and things could be different.
He kissed away my tears and told me he loved me; that he always would.
But on one condition.
'You have to stop with the insecurity, Col. If we ever do a whose line reunion show you'll never get away from being cast as the woman.'
We were laughing again and everything was all right.
Just like always.
-o-
Brad and I have taken a break from the tour. Only a week, but it's enough. As fit as I am for my age (and God do I hate saying that - 'for my age'), the schedule we play can be punishing, and every now and then a recharge of the batteries is necessary. And a few nights without the mousetraps does my feet the world of good. I'd planned to make the trip home as Brad was doing the same, but Deb's rehearsal schedule changed last minute and with Luke being away I figured I may as well stay put. Ironically we finished up in LA, in a theatre not a million miles away from where we used to film. It always feels strange to me to be back here and not be filming the show, but I have always resisted the temptation to go back there. There's no need to, it would just be morbid curiosity, and I dwell too much on the past already, so it's best left alone.
I haven’t seen Ryan since Montreal, and it seems like a lifetime. As I've said before, Ryan isn’t one for phone calls or text messages, but he did send me a message a few days after Montreal.
'Stop being a woman and remember I love you, R x. P.S I hate these damn things'
The thing is I do know how much he hates cell phones - technology in general really; if he could get away without having a cell he would, so I know that he was making an effort to make sure I felt ok by sending that. A certain amount of risk too, because I'm fairly sure that Ryan wouldn’t think to delete his sent messages for fear that prying eyes might find something they shouldn’t. Strangely enough it does give me comfort, because that simple message is so utterly him; I can hear him saying it and see the mock remonstration sparkling in his green eyes.
But as I sit here, alone on the beach in the twilight of the evening I can't help but be reminded by what seems to be the inevitable hopelessness of the situation. No matter where I go I can't escape it, everything I see, everything I hear, reminds me of him. The sound of the waves lapping against the shore and crashing gently against the rocks reminiscent of hushed whispers of pleasure murmured against hot skin. The golden sand laced with shades of grey as the night begins to fall like his curls - honey coloured with strands of silver, nature's own twilight.
It haunts me; our relationship is like a ghost - reminding me that it's no longer there, that it was only ever ephemeral. It's like the Gods are mocking me, making me suffer for the taboo relationship we should never have had, that would never be acceptable in the eyes of society. Even the sunset is tinged with the exact green hue of his eyes, burning into my own and making them sear with pain until I berate myself for being so fucking weak as I taste the salt of my tears.
'I'll always be there, Col' his voice sails into my ears on the wind.
He's always there but he's never here.
I pound the sand with my fists in anger as tears stain my cheeks and I'm grateful that the beach is deserted and no one is there to observe my pitiful outburst. Strong arms wrap around my chest and I should feel startled, but I'd know that embrace anywhere, and given my current state of mind I've probably degenerated into hallucination.
'You didn’t tell me you had a week off' the hot breath of the whisper cascades across my ear as the arms hold me tighter, a large, soft hand stroking the tears from my face as I wonder if I should dare to reply.
I shift so that I'm facing him, and he smiles as if to let me know that it's really him, that he's really there.
'How?'
'Brad' he said, smoothing what's left of my hair from my forehead. 'He called me, said he was worried about you. When he said you'd decided not to go home for the week I figured I knew where you'd be' he replied, stretching his legs out and pulling me against his chest so that we both sat facing the ocean.
'I don't believe you're here…OW! What was that for?'
'Had to pinch you so you'd know it wasn't a dream' he chuckled, laughter bouncing against my back.
We sat there, watching the sun retreat for another day and the sky settle into a deep cloud as the steady rhythm of Ryan's heartbeat threatened to lull me to sleep. It was peaceful – perfect, as if we were the only two people in the world.
'I worry about you, Col' he said, hugging me closer, his hands squeezing mine.
'Mm?' I mumbled, coming round from my dreamy fog as he adjusted our position to face me.
'This, us – it hurts you, and I don't want to do that, Col; I love you too much'.
I traced his face with my hand, smiling when he smiled against my hand, the contour of his jaw a perfect fit for the arc of my palm.
I shook my head. 'It's not that, I'm sorry Ry – it's just me, since the show finished I can't deal with not seeing you. Even on tour – when we're working it's fine, but when the curtain falls and you're not there I realise just how far away you are. I just miss us, you know? It drives me crazy'.
'That's what I'm afraid of' he smiled and I couldn't help but laugh.
'Would it help if I made it out to you more often? You should have called me this week' he said, and I could hear the hurt in his tone that I hadn't asked him to meet me here.
'I don't want to feel like this, Ry, for you to think that I'm so dependent on you. I just...oh hell'
'What? What is it Col? Talk to me.'
'It's just...it's like I can't stop thinking about how little time we have together and that we didn't appreciate it when we had it. I feel so old, Ryan and I'm scared that what we had is over, that we'll never have that again. There never seems to be enough time.'
'Colin' he said patiently, cupping my face with his hands and gazing at me with a look that filled me with warmth right down to my toes. 'I'm here – we're here, together. None of this – us – we'll never change, ok? I know that I'm useless and we don't have the time together that we used to and that I hate to use the damn phone, but I'm serious – all you have to do is call and I'll be there, no matter what.'
'You don't have-'
'Col – please, I don't want you feeling like this. The show may have ended but we won't, I told you that – you just have to believe it. We haven't met up as often as we could – that's my fault, but that can change.'
As I gazed into his eyes, drinking him in, I knew that he meant every word and I wondered why I'd ever doubted him – why I'd ever doubted us. Nothing could ever separate us, except my insecurity.
'I really have become the woman, haven't I?'
He laughed, his eyes crinkling and his face creasing into a smile as we laughed, holding one another in the rapidly fading light.
'You can be the woman as long as you promise to let me know the minute I turn into the selfish bastard.'
'You're never that' I said seriously, placing my hands firmly on his shoulders and forcing him to look at me. 'And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that way'.
Ryan kissed me, and as he did I realised just how much I'd missed, yearned for his touch. 'You didn't – but I know I'm a stubborn ass hole at times. Col, I've loved you for a lifetime; that's not gonna change any time soon, and I'll be damned if I ever let a few miles come between us. We're only a plane – well, a car ride away' he smiled, correcting himself.
'I miss it so much, Ry' I sighed, leaning into him once more.
'I know' he whispered, his head resting on my shoulder. 'But we'll get through it. I'll never miss you so much that I won't want to see you, so call me, ok? No more bottling up and thinking yourself into a funk.'
'Deal' I smiled, happy and content once more.
'Col?'
'Mm?'
'You think we could head back to my place? It's getting kinda cold here and whilst I like the idea of spending the week in bed with you, I don't want it to be because we're ill.'
I laughed, grateful a thousand times over that he was in my life and content in the knowledge that he always would be; kissing him I hoped that he somehow knew all the things that I could never articulate, because words seemed to be poor vehicles to convey the way he made me feel.
Our eyes met across the roof of his car, and even in the darkness I saw all that I ever needed to know. Ryan and I would always be just that. Me and Ryan. We'd always be, nothing could never, would never change that – not the end of whose line, not now, not ever.
I knew in that one look that Ryan would never let that happen.
Ryan can be as stubborn as a mule; he'd never give us up.
And for that I'd be eternally grateful.
It was all I ever needed to know.
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