Knowing Me, Knowing You
Author: The Empress
Paring: implied Ry/Col
Rating: PG
Summary: A goodbye story.
Disclaimer: Good luck squeezing blood out of a rock. "Hey...there's some blood on my stool..."
In these old familiar rooms, children would play....
A pair of large hands cascaded softly over the back of a chair once sat in. He felt the material lovingly, as if trying to recapture memories of long ago, through his fingertips. He let the sensations wash over him and was almost overcome by the emotions that the single touch evoked. He circled the chair and sat down in it, causing dust to unsettle and cloud up around him. Had it really been that long?
Who was the individual who had kept this place around for so long, not tearing it down, not making something new? In the harsh red lights of the exit signs and the soft almost nonexistent whiteness of the emergency lights, he could barely make out the familiar forms. One desk, one stage, 4 chairs, 2 tables, a piano. Everything covered in dust. He ran a fingertip along the table beside him, picking up a thick layer of the stuff and rubbed it between his thumb and finger ruminating over the past.
Ryan leaned his head back as far as it would go, looking up into the catwalks and overhead lights. He closed his eyes. Dust particles danced in the beam of light that came from a tiny bulb directly above Ryan's head and it looked like stardust as it fluttered down upon him.
He awoke to the sounds of laugher. Not just a single voice but an entire audience. At first his brain didn't have the chance to process the fact that there was no one else in the room, the sound of the laughter triggering something deep within and he just knew it was the laughter he had heard for years. He wrinkled his nose in confusion, but did not open his eyes.
The laughter grew louder and he thought for sure he heard other voices as well. Now this was odd, because one of the voices he could have sworn was his own. It all sounded tinny and far away, distant in his ear. He strained a little to try and pick up what was being said.
"Let's go onto a game called Improbable Mission. This is for Colin and Ryan. You guys are secret agents carrying out an every day activity...."
The voice became clearer and a small smile played on Ryan's lips. He didn't want to open his eyes yet, but it was almost impossible. The voices were coming in clearer and he knew he just knew that if he did, it would fade away, harsh reality glaring back at him. He frowned at that and scrunched his eyes closed tighter.
"Got a tape in the mail." Ryan perked up at the sound of his voice. His hands gripped the sides of his chair. It was really strange to hear his voice coming from only steps away, loud and strong and clear. He ran a hand through his hair and willed himself to keep his eyes closed.
"I thought we were out of the spy business." The soft, dulcet, smooth and even tones of his best friend, immediately brought tears springing forth into Ryan's closed eyes and he could no longer resist leaving them closed. Too long, oh too long had it been since he had seen Colin. That acknowledgement touched him deep in his heart, much more than a broken, empty set could ever do. His eyes fluttered open to the sound.
The bright stage lights caused him to rub his eyes momentarily. His brain warred with his emotions telling him this could not be. This is impossible! Ryan cleared his eyes and looked at the clear, clean stage below. Everything was shiny and polished. Not a speck of dust. He looked over and saw Wayne sitting a seat down from him, his eyes fixed on the pair on the stage. He looked over and saw Greg standing next to Drew waiting for his turn to come in. Audience members were perched on the edge of their seats waiting for the next quip. Drew was in his seat twirling his pencil. This was surreal to say at least.
In the middle of the stage stood his best friend of over 30 years. He disregarded his own form, at present, to take in the other familiar face that was as close to him as his own. He looked years younger. His pale, pellucid skin, so bright against the lights, transfixed Ryan who never really noticed it in the midst of their games. Or when sitting beside each other. Somehow now he looked even more transparent-like. His mind tried to somehow rationalize to him that this was only a dream, but it looked and felt so real. The sounds and sights were too real to call it anything but. He could smell the excitement in the air. The same excitement that drove him week after week. The smell of their combined sweat over the physical efforts and the heat of the lights above. Everything was just as it used to be. Ryan smiled wide. He was overwhelmed with memories.
He looked at his own form and shook his head. Here was someone he wished he could go up to and throttle. After all that had happened in his life since....he never put more stock in the term 'hind sight is 20 -20' than he did now. He knew exactly what his thoughts were at the time and he was ashamed. 'Get it over with, get it done, and move on.' Where was the joy that he once knew? Where was the laughter he looked forward to? When had it just become a pay check?
Now if he could only tell himself. Go over to the man just going through the motions and say, 'HEY listen!!! Don't let this good thing slip away. You don't know how much longer it will last. You don't know what loneliness is, until you lose what is standing right in front of you. Look at him. Don't let him get away!"
Ryan watched as the scene continued, almost brought to tears of laughter as his memories washed over him.
"Reel us up." Colin said as his hand slipped around Ryan's belly. Ryan watched the scene from a different angle, and never realized until this moment that when he said he loved Colin, it was then that Colin's knees seemed to weaken. If only slightly. He knew he had joked with his partner for years the on again off again fascination of being in love with him. He never had taken it seriously. He never cared. It was just a passing thing, a way to keep the audience interest as well as the many fantasies of the fans. He was too into the game to realize that for a brief instant Colin had rested his head ever-so-slightly in Ryan's back and breathed him in. His friend had felt so much more than Ryan ever knew. And it was at this, that Ryan was shaken to the core. Did he even know? He reached toward the two men on stage...only wanting to lay a hand on the bleeding heart of the one who would never say how he truly felt.
From that point on Ryan became entranced through the rest of the game. It never, ever ceased to amaze him that his friend could reduce him to tears, in a matter of seconds with a well placed word or look. Ryan rested his hands on his knees and allowed his laughter to flow as freely as Drew's over the hilarity of a scene he almost had memorized verbatim. It was a popular sketch and he knew it well. But it was fresh to his mind looking at it from this view. He saw the tiny smile quirked on Colin's lips as he tried to keep his laughter inside. Always the professional, even in something as forgiving as comedy. Ryan wanted to just go over to him and run his fingers across the little pout, the little dimple that creased his cheek and grab him in the tightest bear hug. He wanted to say 'Laugh...its ok! Let Go!'
And then he did. "The Snackerflarf of Emore will be here." Ryan's eyes were streaming with tears of laughter. It was a weird sound to him being echoed off of silent walls and resounding off of the laughter in the audience. Two worlds meshed into one. He paid it no mind as he continued to wipe his face. Oh those were the days. Why did the pain continue to grow in his heart? He raised a giant hand to it, willing the pain to cease. He shook his head. He didn't want to remember it now.
Out of the shadows of the backstage wing a form approached silently. His face was wistful, as he stared poignantly at the man in the chair. Ryan didn't notice him yet; he was still engrossed with the magic the pair on stage was making. This was the stuff dreams were made of. And he was having the most delightful dream. It was only a dream, wasn't it? The form crossed over and sat down in his chair. The chair he had known for so many years. The chair he still sat in on occasion. He looked at Ryan and he looked at the stage. A small, melancholy smile was on his lips as he once again turned to the man at his left. He studied him for a long while. It was time.
"Well you can't have static cling; the burnoose will stick to his...thing."
Ryan laughed so hard that he barely felt the pain that shot through his heart at the same time. A hand ghosted on his shoulder. The owner turned to the stage before him briefly and smiled forlornly. Soon.
"Wait a minute....THE CAT."
"The cat's wet now." The voice didn't come from the stage but from the man sitting by Ryan. It was spoken so gently, Ryan heard it on the gliding air currents. The voice had no depth, no solidity. He turned to the sound. He saw Colin sitting there, hand still resting on his shoulder, gaining strength and form. At first Ryan could only see an outline. He blinked his eyes and shape took form. It was real. He was real. Ryan shook his head in disbelief. Today was a strange day indeed.
"Are you ready?" Colin asked; hope sparkling in his tired eyes.
"But, Colin..." Ryan stuttered uncertain. He looked back out at the stage, and toward the audience. The sounds and the laughter and the ghosts of the past still echoed all around him, still played their game, but it was quieter now, an anticipatory hush, expecting.
"Come play with me." Colin said standing and extending his hand to his old friend. Colin smiled, and in that smile he welcomed Ryan home.
They had been looking for Ryan for a few hours now. Drew, Greg, Chip, Brad and Jeff were taking a tour of the old studios. They hadn't been back in years. It was getting to be sunset and they had lost track of Ryan around lunch time. They decided to do one last survey of the studio before they called the police. They were all worried. Greg opened the studio doors; every thing was dark save a few emergency lights. He glanced up on stage and stopped in his tracks. He went up the aisle and paused momentarily at Drew's old desk, afraid to proceed further. He approached the form slumped down in the last chair.
The other's came up behind Greg silently looking over his shoulder. Greg's hand rested softly on the shoulder in front of him, feeling a strange tingling sensation in the spot. The most serene of smiles was on Ryan's face. Greg smiled back and said in a quiet voice. "Goodbye."
Now there's only emptiness...nothing to say.....