So Far Away
Title: So Far Away
Pairing: Ry/Col
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: What could possibly being happening as we speak. The Empress certainly hopes not. More to come in part 2.
Disclaimer: I'm using the song Far Away By Nickelback. I don't own not a damn thing...so tra la la!
This time, this place
Misused, mistakes
Too long, too late
Who was I to make you wait?
Just one chance, just one breath
Just in case there’s just one left
Cause you know, you k now, you know…
"Just call him."
"I can’t, Brad."
"Why not?"
Colin looked at him incredulously. "Why not, you ask? Brad Sherwood, you’ve known Ryan Stiles nearly as long as I have. You know how he is, his stubbornness, his pride."
"He’s hurting."
"I know he is Brad, I’ve tried. You know I’ve tried."
"Try again."
Colin looked at his partner with a sad, weary smile. He turned and walked away. Brad watched Colin’s sagging shoulders as his friend walked down the path. Brad shook his head.
Ryan Stiles put down his glass, his fifth of the night. What the hell, the night was still young. He had a long way to go. He ran a hand through his graying hair. Far too much of it these days, he mused. Far too many wrinkles as well, he noticed as he lifted his tired gaze to the mirror behind the bar. Who was that stranger looking back at him? The same stranger who met him every night at this time, at this place. He took the last gulp hard, almost forcing the liquid down his throat as if even it was battling against him, and slammed the glass on the counter. "Hit me." He barked at the man behind the bar. He took to studying the ice while he waited. The bartender just looked at him and filled another glass. Never complain with the paying customers. And this one had been paying for a long time.
He surveyed the bar for the twentieth time. "Where is he?" Ryan sighed impatiently. 'If you tell someone to meet you somewhere, at least have the decency to show up when you say you will.' He should have backed out. He knew he should have. All the man could possibly want is to just would’a should’a could’a him more and right now he couldn’t stand to hear it. Right now, he didn’t want to hear it.
He was only mildly surprised to hear that Colin would agree to meet on his terms, when it was Colin who actually made the call. "Alright, Ryan." he had remembered him saying, just like he always said, the agreeable little puppy, even though he did not fail to miss the edge in his voice. He knew that edge very well and four years was not long enough to forget. "Well, fuck it. He can be pissed all he wants. I don’t even know what the hell he wants or what he’s doing and I don’t really give a fucking care at this point."
Ryan almost choked on his words as a gentle hand grasped his shoulder. The same gentle hand he had felt so many times over so many years. ‘I know your lips’, he remembered from long ago. ‘Well I know so much more’, he thought bitterly. His shoulder burned where the hand touched and for a moment he was almost too scared to turn and see whom the hand belonged to.
"Waiting long?" Colin said softly, his hand reluctantly dropped from Ryan’s shoulder. He felt uneasy touching him now. The familiarity was no longer present. What he touched now was hard, cold, distant.
"Does it matter?" Ryan turned to face him.
They both were taken aback at the sight of the other. Four years should not have done the damage that it had to the two men. Each just stared silently at each other for a brief uncomfortable moment. They each took inventory of the new wrinkles, the new sags, the new grays the stark whites. Where was the innocence of youth? So far away, seemed like yesterday. Even four years should have left them in better shape than they were now, but all each could read was misery and pain, the withdraw of being separated. It was there like a cold hard slap, all that was needed was for someone to acknowledge it.
"You’re looking well…" Colin started then faltered. He knew he was lying and it was a joke to pretend to try with this man.
"Get to the point, Col." Ryan said his anger starting to rise.
He had no idea why he was getting so defensive. The man did come all this way. It had to be something important. And this was his friend. Sure he saw him on extremely rare occasions when they ran into one another from time to time, but he had known him and loved him like a brother and more for so many years, it should not matter, the miles, the distance. How long will he live this lie? He wasn’t going to make it easy. Colin had it coming. After all, he deserted Ryan, when Whose Line was over. There was nothing much Colin could say to him now that would make much of a difference to mask that fact.
"Alright, Ryan." Colin said once again.
It seemed he was always giving in, placating to Ryan’s moods, his swings. They were always on a dangerous ride of who yells and who backs down. This time though, Colin was at the end. This time there was no turning back. If Ryan refused, there would be no more coming, no more compromising. No matter what the future held. This was it.
"What happened to you?" he said levelly looking Ryan in his eyes.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ryan said standing up from the stool. He tried to keep his voice low, but this condescending crap he had put up with for years was not the way to break the ice with him.
"Ryan, calm yourself." Colin said in monotone, trying to use his tried and true technique, but it came out more ragged and worn than he expected. The act was old.
"Oh fuck you, Col." Ryan said barely letting the other man get a word in, and at this point not even bothering to let him try. "Don’t come down here to pull your shit on me, this pity party is getting ridiculous. Just go back to Sherwood and live your fantasy life. Do your gigs and leave me the hell alone. Just go be fucking happy." Ryan said the last word with the slightest hint of a sob. ‘Damnit’ he thought to himself. ‘Don’t do this’.
Colin didn’t fail to miss the note of sadness and still watched his friend’s every move. He knew from experience to let the little explosions go and focus on what the meaning of the words was behind the sentiment. He didn’t say anything for another moment just looked at Ryan as Ryan stood there looking at him, waiting him out, coming down from his first attempt to get Colin as mad as he felt right now. It was always his tactic. The problem was, Colin knew. Just as he knew Colin’s moves. It was the same dance, the same act over and over, it was old.
Colin turned to the bar and held up two fingers. The bartender nodded slightly and set the drinks before the man. Colin took them and motioned for Ryan to follow him to the back of the bar, as to not draw any more attention in their direction. Ryan let out an exasperated sigh and followed, only because he knew he would.
Colin set the drinks down on a worn table and motioned for Ryan to sit. He still hadn’t spoken a word since Ryan’s outburst.
"I asked you a question." He said deathly quiet.
"And I told you an answer." Ryan said without moving. He stood there using his height to stare Colin down. He really was digging into his bag of tricks, trying anything to gain control of the situation. Colin still looked unfazed. "I don’t need your help, if that’s what you are trying to do here. I’m financially secure, my marriage is what it ever was, a joke, and as for work…you know I don’t really care either way on that." Ryan looked down at his glass, watching as the ice shifted.
"What has happened to you?" Colin said refusing to let up. "You are not the same man I’ve known most of my life. You are not the confident, self-assured smart ass that can win everyone over with a mischievous smile. Looking at you now, I don’t see the fire behind your eyes. I see pain. I see resentment, bitterness, anger. You take whatever work people throw at you, but you don’t want it. How much longer are you going to be stereotyped as the drunken idiot? Damnit Ryan you’re worth so much more than what you’ve done to yourself!" Colin crossed his arms and willed the color to disappear from his cheeks. He didn’t like to allow himself to lose his composure.
Ryan had reached near purple stage by the time Colin had finished. "Are you fucking kidding me, Colin?" "Is this what you’ve come here to do? You come here to point out all my faults? Try to tell me how I feel? Let me tell you something, Mochrie, you self –righteous prick, you stand there and tear me a new one when you’re the one who’s been deluding himself all along. How much more are you going to push yourself? You’re going to wind up dead before 50, if you don’t stop the relentless pursuit of more work. The world is not going to end if you chose to say no to one of your precious projects for once. Look at you! Look at your body. It’s so tired and worn. And yet you keep pushing and pushing and doing and doing and still have the nerve to stand in my face and tell me I’ve given up. I think you are deluding yourself in the fact that you won't give up and can only justify it by coming here to attack me, you sorry bas..."
Before Ryan finished the last syllable, Colin leapt on him, grabbed his shirt and shoved him up against the wall. Ryan had never seen the look in Colin’s eyes and it instantly unnerved him. Ryan was amazed at the strength his friend still possessed and how obviously weak he had now become. The wall had knocked the breath out of him as well as the look of daggers he was receiving and he gasped.
"Don’t you EVER..."Colin said bringing his face just inches from Ryan’s. His words were dangerously low.
"Colin…" Ryan squeaked.
"Now you listen to me Ryan Lee Stiles, you are a worthless bag of bones sitting here rotting away in this shit-hole bar. You will continue to sit here and rot for the rest of your days. I did not end our friendship, you did, and you have certainly accomplished that today. I came here to save you, to reach you, to need you and to want you as my best friend, because this is just foolishness that we’ve put ourselves through. Who’s to say we can’t get back what we once had? I had that hope. I had that wish for years. Now it’s finally gone. I don’t want this anymore. I don’t need you anymore." Colin released his hold on Ryan letting his hands slip down his bunched up shirt, letting go.
Ryan swallowed hard. This was it. This was it. The last thread. It lay snapped in front of him, in the tired, resolved look of his former best friend. He had always held onto that thread, knowing that in the back of his mind as long as he at least had that, he had something to hope for. Something to live for. His heart immediately gave a sickening flip- flop in his chest as he studied Colin’s eyes. Whatever he read in those depths confirmed it. It was over.
Colin eased himself off of Ryan and tugged at the bottom of his shirt, straightening it. His sorrowful expression contained a thousand words ready to be said, ready to be read, but all he did was shed a tear and turned and walked away.
On my knees, I’ll ask,
Last chance, for one last dance,
Cause with you, I’d withstand
All of hell to hold your hand
I’d give it all, it’d be for us
Give anything but I won’t give up
Cause you know, you know, you know,
God Damn it! Colin slammed his fist against the mirror in his hotel room. He noted silently, as the blood trickled down the side of his hand down his wrist that it fucking hurt. He disregarded the notion as he cleared the dresser top of its contents with a resounding crash, knocking everything to the floor.
"FUCK YOU, RYAN" he screamed at the top of his lungs. He panted and his breaths came in shallow gasps. He felt his heart clinch inside of his chest as he realized what he had done. He slammed his palm against the glass again leaving a bloody print. He stared at his reflection through the shattered bloodied glass. The tired, old face of someone who had tried and failed one too many times stared back at him, haunted.
‘I threw it away.’ He thought dejectedly. "Why do you have to be so god-damned stubborn!" he shouted at the wall, sobbing as he did so. He allowed the tears to flow freely now, there was no one to witness them.
Trying to calm himself Colin went into the bathroom to tend to his wound. He hadn’t yet allowed himself to feel the pain of the cut, but he saw the blood getting everywhere, over everything.
In the bathroom he searched the medicine cabinet, tossing around his medications, the insignificant things like hotel soap and shampoo, a razor blade. He gave pause. ‘Wouldn’t it be so easy?’ he thought. He had said good-bye to his best friend, how much easier would it be to say good bye to him?
"I’m NOT going to let you do this to me!" He shouted again at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, but directed his refusal toward whom he was venting his frustration on. "FUCK" he cried as he pounded his other fist into the glass wanting to eradicate the image before him.
Suddenly he felt a wave of nausea overtake him and he slumped down on the toilet. He buried his face in his hands and tried to get the sensations to pass. It felt as if something was ripping at his soul, something being extracted, not slowly, but forcibly and he felt absolutely helpless to stop it.
Through his tears he saw the pained, strained look of his best friend of over 25 years standing in front of him, clenching and unclenching his fists, undecided on what to do with the broken man before him.
Ryan had paced outside the door of Colin’s hotel room determined yet uncertain of how he was handling his present mood. He had spent the last few hours driving around town, he knew a dangerous thing to do aware of the amount of alcohol he had recently slaked, but not caring whether or not he lived or died. He wasn’t so drunk as to realize that his only friend, no matter how they had treated each other in his mind, had just called it quits. Colin should never have done that.
Ryan needed him like bread and water to a starving man. Like the very breath in his body. He knew he would stop breathing if he didn’t see Colin anymore. It was at that moment he felt an intense, sharp stabbing pain in his heart, a tearing in his soul, which caused him to steady himself against the door jamb.
Ryan bit back a cry as he heard something smash inside the room. Instantly he tried the door knob but it was locked. He pounded on the door. "Colin, open up. Let me in!"
Hearing nothing and beginning to panic, Ryan did the only thing he could. He braced himself and kicked the door in. He was shocked at the sight he was greeted with. The television, the phone, the lamps that were on the bureau was now in pieces on the floor. The bed was unmade and most of the sheets were hanging off the side of the bed, suitcases half packed, clothes scattered everywhere. And then he saw it, the unmistakable trail and pooling of blood. His heart stopped. So much blood covering the floor and looking up he saw what had caused it in the form of a shattered bedroom mirror. A bloody palm print that almost looked as if it was waving, greeted him into the hell of a man in torment.
Ryan stood over Colin as he watched the older man rub his bloodied hands over his face. It looked as if he was about ready to pass out. Ryan couldn't move from his spot. He had never seen Colin this way before and he was totally caught off guard as to what he should do. Colin looked up at that moment and blinked. They were two strangers who had known each other forever. So close to one another physically, but separated by a long and lonely distance in every other way.
"Leave me, Ryan." Colin said through a choked sob.
Ryan stayed still, his mouth set in a grim line, his hands still clenched into fists. He reached out a hand and hesitated, wanting to put it on Colin’s head, but could not.
"Get the fuck away from me!" Colin said again his voice rising.
It was extremely uncharacteristic for him to be this distraught. He had seen him come close only a few other times, but never to this extent. He wasn’t quite sure how to handle him then, he was damn sure he did not know how to handle him now. He left the room and went to the bed. He took off one of the sheets from the bed and started ripping them into long strips. He took the strips back to the bathroom and knelt down before Colin.
With very gentle hands, the love and tenderness that he used to express, welled up instantly as if it never left, flooding his senses. Ryan gingerly picked up one of Colin’s bloodied hands and assessed the damage. Colin had his head leaned back against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. His eyes were closed. His face was bloodied and tear stained, but he was breathing more evenly now. Blood still flowed freely from the large gash down the left side of Colin’s hand and Ryan sucked in a breath. Colin gave a half-attempt at jerking his hand away but Ryan held on and gave a stern murmur. "Stay still." He hissed.
Giving up momentarily, Colin sighed and allowed Ryan to take one of the strips of cloth and start to wrap his injured hand, stopping the blood flow. He took pleasure in the cool feel of Ryan’s skin and tapered fingers and he relaxed into his ministrations. Ryan made soft, sighing noises in the back of his throat as he continued to work. ‘Colin did this because of me.’ He thought dejectedly.
He moved on to the other hand and started wrapping it. It looked a little less worse-for-wear and only a tiny cut was visible, but it still bled like the larger one. Making sure there were no mirror shards stuck in the wound, Ryan wrapped it tight applying pressure to it. Colin winced from above and let out a small whimper. Ryan looked up and studied his friend’s pale drawn face marked with drying blood and tears. Again he reached up, wanting to touch his friend, but still he held back. The hurt inside of him still overwhelmed him more than the physical grief of the man in front of him. He knew Colin would only refuse him now if he chose to comfort him in some way. He fucking hated feeling this helpless and out of control of the situation.
After a moment longer, Ryan rose and found a wash cloth on the bathroom towel rack. He went to the sink and wet it, carefully avoiding the jagged pieces of mirror that had fallen into the sink. He brought the dampened cloth back to Colin and touched his face with it. Colin perked up at the touch. He must have drifted off to sleep for a moment and Ryan wondered if he might have lost consciousness due to lack of blood. Hesitantly, Ryan began to clean Colin’s face of the blood that was smeared all over it. He was beginning to look less like Hannibal Lecter and more like the man he wanted to know all over again.
Bitter remorse was filling his heart as he continued to wipe away at Colin’s face. He gingerly wiped around his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, trying to wake him up as gently as possible. Colin opened his eyes and looked at Ryan and was taken aback at the utter seriousness in determination to clean and take care of him. The wet cloth had stimulated him and he shifted slightly. Ryan stopped and broke his concentration and looked back into Colin’s eyes. A lost smile danced behind his eyes desperate to come out. Colin willed it away.
Colin reached up carefully and removed Ryan’s hand from his face. His hand lingered for a millisecond longer before releasing it and stood, swaying slightly.
"Easy Col, not so fast." Ryan said as he stepped out of the way, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder.
Colin shrugged Ryan’s hand off of his shoulder and pushed past him unsteadily out of the bathroom. Ryan’s hand still hung mid-air as he looked at Colin in disbelief. He followed Colin over to the bed where he watched as Colin started to put the discarded clothes into his luggage. Ryan stood close to him waiting for Colin to speak, wondering why he was still getting the cold shoulder treatment.
Colin tried his best to focus on the task of grabbing his things and getting out of there. If he got to the airport he could be gone in an hour. Back home. Back to life on the road. Put this business behind him. He just had the obstacle of making it out of the door. He glanced every so often at Ryan who continued to stand there, gaping at him. What did he expect? A parade in his honor because he actually did something for a change? ‘It’s going to take a lot more than that, Stiles.’
"Talk to me." A pleading voice said.
"What is there to say?" A hollow voice responded.
"I’m an idiot, you know that right?" a desperate voice intoned.
"That…has never been disputed."
"Are you leaving then?"
"I think the answer to that is quite obvious." Colin put his bag by the door. He surveyed the damage done to the room shrugged and pulled out his wallet. It was worth the maintenance fee to have accomplished what he did.
"How can you be such a cold bastard?" Ryan yelled rushing over and yanking Colin by the arm pulling him close.
"Ryan, we are through! What part of that don’t you understand?" Colin’s face reddened again, almost near hysterical with emotion. "I thought it was clear to you in the bar. I can’t turn back now after I’ve gone this far. I can’t keep playing this game with you. I can’t keep allowing myself this pain every time I think of where you might be, what you are doing, who you are with. If you haven’t killed yourself yet with the abuse you give to your body and health, you do it by ostracizing your closest friend. Why haven’t you in the four years apart ONCE come to me like this, searched me out, and fought for me?! It makes everything that I am a joke to give into you one more time, just because I love you…" Colin stopped short.
Ryan dropped his hand from Colin’s arm where it had been left forgotten during the outburst. He searched Colin’s face, but Colin turned away and stared at the carpet. ‘This will NOT happen.’ He sternly warned himself.
"You could have told me." He said quietly, almost inaudible.
"I DID tell you, Ryan. You could have listened."
"Come back to me. I can’t do this alone. I can’t be alone. I never felt that way even though we were so far apart, I had a part of you with me always. It was my stupid fault for never coming to you, never keeping our friendship alive because of the hurt and pain and anger that had taken control over me. You left me Colin. You know you should never have done that."
"I left you Ryan because we were in a rut. We needed a break. It would have been this but only more traumatic if I was with you every waking moment. Every one needs time apart. But when I came looking for you, you should never have turned me away."
"I don’t believe that shit, Colin, not for a minute." Ryan said coming closer to him and lifting his chin with his finger. He looked Colin in the eye forcing the man to look back into his own. "If you never left, we would have been happy. There is something that bonds us together, you know it. And when we’re apart, you feel it. And when it is broken, it will kill us. It is killing us now." Ryan looked at Colin with all of the feeling he had left all the love that he denied himself over the years hitting him full force, almost knocking him off of his feet.
"Give me one last chance Colin, please. I am sorry. I’ll give anything; I won’t give up on us anymore."
"I…can’t, Ryan." Colin said as he turned away from the last touch he ever thought he’d feel from his lost friend. He opened the door and stepped out into the night.
So far away so far away, far away for far too long.
So far away, far away for far too long.
"So I take it things didn’t go the way you expected."
"Actually, things went exactly the way I knew that they would."
"Can I say that I’m sorry?"
"It’s not your fault, you only wanted to help."
"Yeah, but…"
"Look, Brad, it’s ok. I just want to get back out there and make people laugh. It’s what I’m good at. It’s what will help me, (help us) move forward."
"Ok, Colin, if that’s how you feel." Brad ushered his friend onstage to the sounds of pounding music and cheering fans. All thoughts of the previous week’s fiasco temporarily disappeared from Colin’s mind as he plastered on a smile and performed his heart out.
Two months and twenty tour dates later, Colin and Brad were both relaxing in their respective hotel rooms enjoying all of the hotel’s amenities. Each was on his phone to his wife. Brad’s new bride still mildly upset at her husband’s dedication to his career, Colin’s wife swept away by her husband’s determination to rebuild their stale relationship. He had called her everyday while on the road. Before performances the cell phone would be glued to his ear. Most times he would plead for her to join him, at any of the tour locations, a little surprise get away. A rendezvous. She turned him down most times still because of the distance from Canada, and her own schedules to keep. When he was in Canada, she’d be there cheering him on and for once he felt happy again to have her beside him.
On this particular night a storm had decided to make it’s presence known to the small town of "Whereverthefuck" nowhere, where they decided to perform at for a charity event. Colin was tired and he rubbed the back of his tense neck and breathed deeply into the phone. Deb picked up on her husband’s mood, and told him that he should try and sleep. Colin sighed and agreed wishing his wife a good night. He hung up the phone and sort of half-snorted/half giggled at the noises coming from the adjoining room. Brad was far from being a horny teenager, but the sound of one-sided moaning and groaning could only mean one thing. Colin sighed and shook his head. He tried to think however far back it was that he had, if ever, attempted phone sex with his wife. Chalk another one up to the brashness of the man. He rolled over on his side and stuffed the pillow to his ear and fell into another night of uncomfortable dreams.
I love you.
I loved you all along.
I miss you, far away for far too long.
I keep dreaming, you’ll be with me and you never go.
Stop breathing, if I don’t see you anymore.
Colin sat bolt upright in bed. It was pitch black in the room. He heard something, something that caused him to shoot up like a bottle rocket, his heart thudding, pounding hard in his ear. He realized with a start, that he was trembling as well. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked slowly. What was the matter with him?
He stood up and fumbled his way around the large room and made his way to the grey light source peeking around the edges of the heavy drapery at the far end of the room. After a few choice words, while stubbing his toes a time or two, he pulled back the drapes and opened the sliding glass door that led out to his small balcony. The rain outside was still coming down hard, and he realized that the grey light source turned out to be flashes of lightening, brightening up the sky for seconds and disappearing.
Colin was slightly protected by the above awning, but some of the rain spattered onto his heated skin, cooling and soaking him. He didn’t care. He knew he had heard something on the wind. He listened intently. He more felt it than heard it the next time it whispered. "What?" he cried out, stepping out into the rain, the rain pounding down on him now, completely drenching his skin. He couldn’t see through the storm, but looked out into the distance, over the twinkling city lights, and the sporadic flashes of lightening.
"COLIN!" the voice cried out again. He heard it so very clearly this time, and the shockwave hit him so squarely in the heart, that he staggered back and grasped the railing for support.
"I’M COMING!" He cried back to the voice. "WAIT FOR ME!" There was such desperation in Colin’s voice it brought tears mixed with the rain.
He scrambled back into his room and frantically searched for the light switch. Finding it and wincing at the harshness of light, willing his eyes to adjust quickly, Colin began to gather his things together, not really caring how they were haphazardly being thrown into his suitcases. He had to get to the voice. It was the only voice he was sure of, the only voice that he knew, and he knew that voice needed him, right now, no questions asked. And Colin knew that no matter what the odds, he would follow that voice until the end of time.
Colin scribbled a quick note to Brad, sliding it under the man’s door, asking him to please forgive him for throwing them off of their schedule. Nothing more needed to be said, because he knew Brad and Brad knew Colin and that was all. Colin grabbed his bags and his keys and rushed out into the pouring rain of pre-dawn. He didn’t know where he was going or how he was going to get there, but someone was leading him and guiding him and he wasn’t going to refuse him anymore.
Brad woke up the next morning, blinking at the bright sunshine that was relentlessly boring down on him in his bed. He was draped only in a sheet, his hand still holding onto his limp penis, but at the remembered sounds of his wife breathing in his ear combined with what he had did last night, it magically sprung back to life. ‘Not bad for an old guy’, he thought and smiled toothily to himself. He indulged himself in a few well placed strokes and laughed before shaking his head and rolling out of the bed. He at least wanted to close the drapes before going any further.
"Hmmm, musta rained last night." He thought out loud. He saw the drops of water falling from the awning above his balcony and the puddles on the concrete. "I can sleep through a hurricane." He said puffing out his big barrel chest. He strutted around the room and went over to the TV and flicked it on, thinking about ordering room service, and checking on Colin.
One of those entertainment news shows came blaring on with its usual sensational chipperness. "Much too early for this shit," Brad muttered to himself as he plopped back down on the bed. The reporter was wrapping up the latest in the Britney Spears head shaving fiasco, and was going into what she termed late breaking news. Brad paid vague attention to it as he looked over the channel guide that was in most hotel rooms, wanting to find a good movie.
"And our top story that just broke last night around 1 am. Television sit-com star, co-producer and star of the popular Improv show Whose Line is it Anyway, Ryan Stiles, was found seriously injured near his home in Bellingham, WA."
Brad immediately jumped up from the bed and shot over to the television set. He stared at it gaping in disbelief. There was an ambulance and police cars all lights and sound in the pitch black darkness of the early morning hours. "GET OUT OF THE WAY" he shouted at the TV as people and reporters were milling around the scene. He had to see if Ryan was ok.
"Stiles, 47, was found outside by his wife Patricia, on the deck leading out to the lake surrounding their property. He was laying face up with what is confirmed to be a sharp knife or razor blade, in his right hand. Both of Stiles’ wrists were sliced due to apparent self infliction. Reports indicate that Mrs. Stiles found her husband unconscious early this morning and immediately phoned for an ambulance. We are now uncertain to whether she was able to reach her husband in time. Stiles was admitted into St. Joseph’s Hospital around 1:15 this morning and we will bring you more details as the case unfolds."
The shows blasting promos for what was coming up next, blared into Brad’s shell-shocked face. Brad shook himself after a commercial for male enhancement, replete with prostitutes and hookers dancing around middle-aged balding men, annoyed its way onto the screen. He ran to the other side of the room where he remembered throwing his boxers, almost not caring to yank them on as he threw open his front door and dashed next door. He banged loudly on Colin’s door, almost frantically. Tears were streaming down his face. He needed Colin badly. He didn’t know how he was going to explain what had happened.
"COLIN!! OPEN UP!!! COLIN!!!" Brad cried out. No sound came from inside. Brad heaved a loud sob and rested his head against the door in mid pound. "PLEASE WAKE UP" he cried.
He went back to his room to try Colin on his phone. Maybe he was in the bathroom. He went back to his room and felt something under his bare feet as he walked back through his door. It was small and white and looked like a folded piece of paper. He opened and read the near frantic scribblings of his best friend. All of the sudden it dawned on him. He knew where Colin had gone, and he knew that Colin didn’t need a news report to inform him. Brad held the paper to his chest and let out another sob. Quietly he closed his door.
Colin burst through the door of Drew’s LA office with no pretense. He frantically pushed his way past the personal assistant and threw open Drew’s office door. Colin knew that Drew was probably the next best person to ever contact when he wanted to know where Ryan was. He knew he should have tried Ryan’s home first, but something tickling in the back of his mind told him that he might not be there. He had left Ryan in LA and it didn’t look like the man had any plans on going home anytime soon.
"Where is he?" He had to force the rising panic out of his voice. He had long since mastered his ability to remain calm. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
Drew didn’t even look up from his desk. He was in the process of signing some documents that pertained to what he knew Colin was referring to in his unceremonious introduction. He looked up at his long time friend with sad, weary eyes.
"Colin, you’re going to have to calm down." Drew started, rising and coming around his desk.
"Calm down?? CALM DOWN!!" Colin started breathing heavily, his voice rising to a frantic pitch. He rushed over to Drew and grabbed him by the upper arms. "What’s happening? What happened to Ryan? Tell me!!"
Drew looked at him in confusion. "You mean you don’t know? No, of course you don’t, why else would you be here?" Drew still pondered the fact that Colin knew something was wrong with Ryan, but didn’t know what was wrong or where he was. He never questioned it anymore.
"I was just on my way out there." He said gently removing himself from Colin’s grasp. "I have a flight that is leaving in about an hour and I need to get to the airport."
"TELL ME WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO HIM, DREW!!!" Colin said all hopes of remaining calm scattered to the wind.
"He’s dying Colin." Drew said with a catch in his voice. He looked helplessly at Colin. He fought a losing battle with the tears that were welling up.
Colin let go of Drew and sat down hard in the chair that was behind him. His glassed over eyes studied the carpet, not really seeing it, but boring a hole through it nonetheless.
Drew came to his side and put a shaky hand on his shoulder. "I was just signing the paperwork as executor of his last will and testament. He wanted me to do the honors. I was signing the power of attorney documents. Oh Colin, this is just…"
"Yes, he’d want you to do it." Colin said not really listening; catching only bits and pieces, his mind was still trying to process the reality of the situation.
"Colin," Drew said squatting before his shocked friend. "He tried to kill himself. Life, I guess, got too hard for him." Drew said with meaning, trying to bring it home to Colin.
Colin turned his watery gaze to his friend. "Are you implying?"
"He loves you."
"He had a great way of showing it." Colin said without feeling.
"You know that’s not true."
"It’s my fault."
"It’s NOT your fault. You tried. You tried for years. You watched him rise and you watched him fall. Everyone has their limits and you both found yours. You were just stronger."
"I don’t feel very strong now."
Drew pulled the trembling man into his arms and held him while he cried. He listened as Colin tried to reason with himself and ask over and over why? He took one of Colin’s hands in his own, noticing the long scar that had formed down the side of it. A constant reminder.
"Take me to him, Drew."
The plane ride to Washington State was too long and too tedious, much more than the impatience he felt while driving to LA. He needed to get to where Ryan was. If some way he could reach his friend before he slipped away, let him know that he was sorry. At least tell him goodbye. Colin rapidly pushed that thought aside. There was no way this was going to be goodbye.
He rested his head on Drew’s shoulder. He was exhausted from the shock and from not much sleep and a long drive. Drew brought his hand to Colin’s snowy white head and patted it softly, soothingly encouraging him to sleep. Colin looked like a little boy when he slept, all innocence and pout. Drew sighed and settled back.
The two comedians rounded the corner of St. Joseph’s and approached the medical receptionist’s desk. She looked up and immediately recognized the two. He face brightened and then fell almost in the same moment. She knew why the two were there and she shared a look of sympathy with them. No words needed to be said she just pointed to the room across the hall. Colin smiled a small smile and mouthed the words "thank you".
A sense of dread overtook Colin as he placed his hand on the knob. He was so very scared to find out what waited for him on the other side of the door. He rested his head against it for a moment, silently wishing for this to all be just a bad dream. That he would open his eyes and they would all be on the set of Whose Line, playing one of their favorite games, Narrate, Helping Hands, Whose Line, Improbable Mission, anything that would put the two of them together, bonding them close. Life was so unfair, wasn’t it?
Ryan stood in the corner of the room masked in shadows. A long form lay flat on the oversized hospital bed, tubes and wires sticking and poking him from what seemed like every inch of his body. He somehow felt that the body lying there was his own. He didn’t feel alarmed about that. He didn’t feel a thing. He couldn’t open his eyes, but he could see everything around him. He saw his wife sitting in a chair beside his bed. He saw Greg perched at the windowsill, worrying his glasses at his face. He saw a nurse checking the chart by his bedside. 'Wait a minute,' he thought. This didn’t seem right to him. Why was he looking at all of this from the outside? He lifted his hand and studied it. He noticed the white gauze that was wrapped around his wrist appeared to be glowing fuzzily in the room’s dim light.
He approached the form on the bed and looked at it. He touched the skin but felt nothing. He wondered why he felt so indifferent. He looked around again and then it struck him, where was he? Where was Colin? Of all of the faces in the room, his was the one Ryan sought and the only one that was causing him the overwhelming sense of grief he felt pressed upon him now. He heard his voice last night in his dreams. He said he would come. He would wait for him. He would wait.
Ryan jumped as the door opened to the room. It was done so ethereally the other occupants at first failed to notice the new form as it came hesitantly toward the bed. A warm glow of relief spread from the top of Ryan’s head down to his feet at the sight of his shy little best friend tip-toeing quietly over to him. He looked over at him and felt the warm glow seep into his heart as his friend’s tired eyes seemed to brighten, a sad smile playing on his lips as he reached out to touch the side of Ryan’s face. Ryan frowned at the fact that he couldn’t feel that either.
Colin did not see anyone else in the room when he opened the door and entered. His first and only view was the now peaceful form on the bed in front of him. He gave a slight shake of the head and bit his lower lip at the sight of all the wires and tubes coming out of Ryan. The wires and tubes that were keeping him alive. A tear slipped slowly down his cheek as he gingerly touched Ryan’s fingers. He winced to see the bandage wrapped around his wrist and then jumped at the feeling of someone’s hand on his shoulder. He turned around but no one was there.
It was then he did notice Pat and Greg in the room. The nurse had said only two visitors at a time, but she made a special exception in this case. Greg came over to Colin and embraced him tightly. He betrayed his hard exterior and let out a shuddering cry into Colin’s neck and Colin held him close. Drew had come into the room and was standing by the door watching the sad scene. Pat was crying softly in her chair. Colin crossed over to her and lifted her out of her seat and held her close. "I’m sorry." He whispered.
"He loved you." She said resolved.
"I…I’m having a hard time with that one Pat." Colin said through tears.
"Love doesn’t require two people to look at each other, but that they look together in the same direction." She said patting his face. She smiled then and went over to her husband and touched his face the same way. She left the room, silently saying her goodbye.
Greg and Drew were on opposite sides of the bed staring down at Ryan’s body each taking turns in gingerly touching his skin and smoothing his hair. They were also looking for any signs that he was breathing on his own and any other movement. Sighing after a moment, they looked at each other and then back at Colin who was still standing in the same spot, numb.
I wanted,
I wanted you to stay.
I needed,
I need to hear you say.
Ryan was looking into Colin’s eyes. So many things he was trying to tell him if he would only listen. He was so overcome with grief and guilt; he just needed to be forgiven. He was transmuting every good and noble feeling he had left in him into the weary body of the very best friend and soul mate a person could ever be fortunate to have. He was so distraught to know that he was a fool to have given this up, for arrogance and pride. Was it too late?
Drew broke Colin out of his reverie, by clearing his throat. He and Greg came to stand beside him and put their arms around him to steer him back toward Ryan, lying on the bed. They both seemed to sense that what Colin needed was time alone with Ryan. Greg brought forward a chair for Colin to sit in and he and Drew left the room each leaving Colin with a sympathetic look.
When he was alone, Colin sat in the chair and looked at Ryan. At first he was at a loss for words. He tried several times to start a dialogue but failed. He ran a hand over his head and then across his face. Ryan looked almost angelic lying there, years had fallen off of him and even his graying hair, muted by the shadows in the room, enhanced his younger features. ‘You are so beautiful.’ Colin thought, but pushed it aside for the anger that began to well inside of him.
"Damn it Ryan! Why did you do this? Why couldn’t you fight just a little harder? Why did you give up? You NEVER give up! Why are you lying here? You should be out making the most of your life instead of doing this foolish shit." Colin had to stop himself from grabbing Ryan up by the hospital gown. He picked up one of Ryan’s arms and finally allowed himself to look at the self-inflicted damage. The area around the bandage was purple from bruising. Colin fingered the bandage and ran his hand over the surrounding area. He allowed himself to trace his fingers down over Ryan’s smooth hand and feel his fingertips. The body on the bed remained motionless.
Ryan in the meantime hovered over his lifeless form. He watched the chest rise and fall with the help of the machine and looked every so often at Colin and tried to feel the touches and hear the words being said. It was as if he was in a tunnel. He wanted to stay there with Colin but something more appealing seemed to be calling him just outside the room. He saw Colin’s tears and it kept him grounded for the moment. He couldn’t leave just yet, he wanted to make sure he said good bye. He wished Colin would smile. He was feeling happier than he ever felt in many years. He walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down on the edge in front of Colin. He smiled and touched the fringe of his hair, allowing himself to remember the feel of its silkiness. He smoothed away the wrinkles around his eyes and wiped away his tears.
"I always thought we’d be two old men sitting in rocking chairs at the retirement home, reminiscing about the ‘good old days’". Colin said aloud.
Ryan brushed his hand down Colin’s arm and sought his hand. He remembered the feel of his hand from so many years of holding onto it before. He gathered strength in those nimble fingers.
"Ryan, why?" Colin suddenly burst out. He couldn’t hold back anymore. "Tell me, show me, in some way that you are still here!! Don’t leave me alone! I promise I’ll never leave you alone again, just don’t leave me now!" Colin collapsed on the side of the bed. Heartbreaking sobs wracked his body. He cried so hard for his lost friend. If there was only some way to bring him back to him. He lifted his tear stained face and pulled Ryan’s close to his own, so close that he shared his breath with Ryan’s. He spoke softly.
"I love you, I loved you all along and
I forgive you, for being away for far too long
So keep breathing, cause I’m not leaving you anymore, believe it.
Hold on to me never let me go."
Ryan’s eyes fluttered open and blinked even in the dimming light it felt harsh. His whole body ached. He felt stiff. He turned his head slightly and looked into the disbelieving chocolate brown eyes of his life partner. Colin could not speak. His mouth just hung open, gasping. His hands forever working, worked even harder, twisting and picking and doing everything that they could to hold back and not tackle the man who looked back at him with his infamous "gotcha" grin.
Ryan weakly pulled back the sheet and patted the space beside him. Colin questioned him with his eyes and Ryan nodded once. Colin crawled in and shared his warmth with Ryan. Ryan sighed and closed his eyes. Colin’s working fingers finally found their purpose and repeatedly fingered Ryan’s hair, reacquainting him with its texture. He sighed and snuggled further down, knowing that the nurse or someone would be coming in soon enough to run tests and take Ryan away from him. But for right now, he was home. This was where he belonged forever. Everything else would take care of itself. He traced a finger down Ryan’s smooth nose, and across his cheek.
"Where were you?"
"I was coming."
"Thank you for waiting."
"Stay a while?"
"For you, forever."
The End:)