laniew1

FIC: P!ATD/MCR/FOB - Planned Mistakes - Ryan/Mikey/Pete - PG - 1/?

2007-11-13T00:13:23Z

So more crack. This time in the form of Ryan/Mikey/Pete.

Summary: It was like he was stuck in some awful version of telephone. Except instead of Ryan ending up with something like leprosy or bad hair or something, he was involved in an affair with Mikey Way that he'd managed to keep secret from everyone.

TITLE: Planned Mistakes
RATING: PG (for language)
PAIRING: Ryan POV: Ryan/Mikey, Ryan/Pete, Pete/Mikey, Ryan/Mikey/Pete
AUTHOR: Melanie
Summary: It was like he was stuck in some awful version of telephone. Except instead of Ryan ending up with something like leprosy or bad hair or something, he was involved in an affair with Mikey Way that he'd managed to keep secret from everyone.
NOTES: So I'm totally mucking with timelines here.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these boys and I'm pretty sure that this has never happened and will never happen quite like this.

Planned Mistakes 1/?

The first time that he met Mikey Way, Ryan had been under Pete's arm, at a party that he hadn't wanted to go to anyway.

He'd told Pete that he would be out of his league, that he wouldn't know anybody but him and he didn't like excluding the rest of the guys, Pete had just looked at him and told him he was going.

So Ryan had gone, eye liner on and tight jeans that pretty much guaranteed that he would never have kids or, possibly, an erection ever again.

Spencer had watched, disapproving, as they left and Ryan had already heard all the lectures. He was tired of Spencer's lectures, telling him that Pete was using him, that he was going to break his heart.

Ryan knew this, knew it as certainly as he knew that Pete didn't want him, he wanted what he represented.

He was Pete's way of either making Mikey jealous or getting him back.

Ryan knew all this, he knew it. At the time he'd been so in awe of Pete that saying no to him was an impossibility.

So the first time that he met Mikey Way he should have been thinking 'so this is the ex' or 'this is the competition' or 'this is who he's trying to make jealous and get back'.

But he'd been young and Pete had been touching him of his own free will, leaning into Ryan like he was the most important person in the room and his only thoughts at the time (besides oh my god, I'm fucking bored) had been 'oh my god, Pete Wentz is touching me'.

He'd been young and foolish and inclined to fits of fancy.

"Mikey Way, Ryan Ross," Pete had said. Quietly, but firmly.

Like he was making a point.

From the expression on his face Mikey got the point, probably a lot sooner then Ryan did.

******************************************************************************

Pete broke his heart twice over a two month time span.

The second time it stuck, primarily because Panic! was on tour, and it was hard for him to get lonely and call or IM Ryan and have him on his doorstep 2.5 seconds later.

Ryan missed him sometimes, missed being cuddled and held and sharing Pete's lap with Hemingway and having someone to talk to about writing and music that maybe understood where his words came from.

Spencer watched him closely, like he thought Ryan was going to go suicidal and slit his wrists because Pete had decided he was straight again.

Ryan didn't think about it, he read the articles when he couldn't avoid them, looked at the pictures when they were right in front of him, but he didn't go searching for them.

He loved Pete and he hated himself a little bit for not being what Pete needed (Mikey or female) and he was glad for the things that took all his attention.

The band and the music and the words that came and that he wrote into songs that he didn't show the others, and Brent leaving and Jon replacing him and he kept himself busy enough so that he couldn't think at all.

******************************************************************************

It had been a long day, inane interviews and he'd only wanted to bitchslap two of the interviewers so he was calling it an okay day.

Not perfect, because they'd only had four interviews, and wanting to commit bodily harm in two of them probably wasn't fantastic… but it was good enough.

He was hiding, though if anyone asked he was just escaping from the noise and the smoke and the conversation.

He didn't even want to be at the party, but he'd been overruled, because Keltie had wanted to go and Brendon and Jon had wanted to go and Haley had flown home so Spencer was all for not sitting cooped up in the hotel room.

And now Keltie and Brendon and Jon were drinking, they'd urged him to join in but he'd done all the drinking he felt he needed to in order to get it out of his system in the four months after he'd turned 21 and then he'd stopped, because he had no desire to turn into the man his father had been and going into rehab wasn't on his list of things to accomplish by the time he turned 25.

He'd left them to their own devices and he thought that their plan might be to see who could drink who under the table first.

He'd been going to hang out with Spencer, get his quality best friend time while said best friend wasn't distracted by his girlfriend. But Spencer had vanished, he wasn't sure to where, he'd just made a high pitched squeaking sound and when Ryan had turned around to question him on it, he'd been gone.

So now he was alone, and hanging out alone at a band party was like just handing Gabe material for six months, without forcing him to work for it first.

Fall Out Boy was there, he'd already seen Pete holding court with Ashlee and he'd managed to not sneer, managed to give her a quick hug without breaking her neck, and made appreciative noises over her hand and didn't yank the huge ass engagement ring off it.

He didn't know what the hell Pete was thinking, or if he even was. Patrick looked annoyed as hell so he knew he wasn't the only one.

The door opened and he was blinded suddenly.

"Are you hiding Ryan Ross?" Ryan blinked, looked up and there was Mikey Way, standing in the doorway, bright light from the hallway glowing around him.

Ryan squinted, he thought that Mikey looked slightly bemused at finding Ryan sitting on the floor in a dark room when he could be out reveling with everyone else, or he could still be blinded by the sudden light.

"No?"

Mikey still looked amused; he walked into the room, door closing behind him and Ryan shifted, getting ready to stand.

Mikey put a hand on his shoulder, "You don't have to get up," he said. Then slid down the wall to sit next to him.

"Where's Alicia?"

Mikey sighed, a long sigh that spoke of stories that he didn't want to tell.

"Never mind," he stared at the wall, next to him Mikey shifted. He thought this might be the longest they'd ever spent in each others company without Pete to act as a buffer. "Did you know?"

"About the engagement?" Mikey asked, Ryan nodded. "No, although with as much disapproval as Patrick is emanating, I suppose we should be grateful that he didn't just elope with her to spite his lead singer."

"Like you did?" Ryan asked and winced.

Mikey laughed quietly, there was a bitter edge to it.

"Sorry," Ryan said softly.

"We all want things we're not supposed to have, sometimes we do things to make sure we can't have them."

"I don't understand," Ryan said.

Mikey was silent next to him and Ryan drew his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them.

"Are you still in love with him?" Ryan asked. He didn't look over at him, instead he laid his head on his knees and closed his eyes. Tried to figure out why Mikey still being in love with Pete would cause him to marry Alicia instead.

"Pete's very easy to be in love with; he's even harder to be with, besides…aren't you?" Mikey said slowly, like he had to think about every word before they came out of his mouth. Ryan shrugged.

As much as he might have loved Pete, it didn't matter. To Pete he'd been sex and something shiny to shove in Mikey's face when/if they came into contact. He'd claimed Pete as his boyfriend, his lover, but Pete had never claimed him back, had never returned any of the feelings that Ryan had laid out on his sleeve for him.

To Pete, Ryan had just been a way to pass the time until Mikey came back to him or until he figured out a way to move on.

It was just Pete's luck that he'd now get to choose which he wanted more, Mikey back or to move on.

"You should talk to him, he'd probably rip that ring off her finger before she even gets used to the weight of it being there," Ryan said instead.

"I think Pete is moving on," Mikey sighed. "He's made his choice; I'm not going to ruin any shot that he has at happiness…"

"Even though, if he'd had the same choice, he would have ruined yours."

"I managed to ruin it all by myself, so it really didn't matter what Pete did or didn't do."

Ryan swallowed, leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He should get up, go find his band and Keltie and go back to his hotel and try not to think about getting second chances.

You only got second chances if the person giving them cared enough about you to offer.

"I should…" they both said at the same time.

Mikey laughed and Ryan smiled despite himself, biting on his lip as they each climbed to their feet.

"We can't walk out of here together," Ryan said, he rolled his shoulders. It was a band party, yes. The photographers and the reporters had all been dismissed fairly early into the evening, but appearances still needed to be maintained.

He ran a hand through his hair. Brendon was already making noises about haircuts and makeup and the stage show for a new album that wasn't even finished let alone ready to be put out yet.

"Why not, Ryan Ross? We're friends. You have a pretty girlfriend, who you openly adore. I'm happily married, anyone asks we just ran into each other while getting away from the smoke and the noise and the drunken revelers who think they aren't drunk," Mikey said simply.

Ryan walked towards the door, Mikey's hand low on his back as he opened it and stepped out into the hallway.

"Well its not a total lie," Ryan said, Mikey hadn't dropped his hand yet, still had it pressed against the small of Ryan's back and Ryan didn't shift or move forward to cause it to drop off.

He should, he knew he should.

Mikey leaned close, breath tickling his ear. "Sometimes the best truths are the ones that can be left up to interpretation," he pressed a kiss to Ryan's forehead; Ryan turned his head to look at him questioningly as Mikey took a step back.

"I'll see you around Ryan Ross."

******************************************************************************

He'd turned his sidekick off when he went to bed, he'd left before everyone else, he'd heard Keltie stumble in and back out around three and he'd heard everyone laughing in the main room of their suite until he'd rolled over, put his pillow over his head and managed to drown them out long enough to go back to sleep.

When he woke up he found Spencer sitting at the end of his bed, staring at him like he'd grown a second head over night and was just waiting for Ryan to notice.

Ryan reached a hand up to check, just in case.

No second head.

"Mikey Way?"

Ryan frowned in confusion. Spencer liked being vague, but that was so extremely vague that Ryan didn't even know what the point was.

"I'll take My Chem bassists for 100, Alex?"

Spencer rolled his eyes, tossed Ryan's 'kick at him.

Ryan looked at it, back at Spencer.

"Pete's called about a half dozen times, something about you and Mikey Way and coming out of a closet and kissing in a hallway, he sounds kind of insane, Patrick's talking about having him committed before he can do anything else stupid, like actually marry Ashlee and…"

"He kissed me on the forehead, that's not even real kissing," Ryan interjected, there were eight messages waiting from Pete. Spaced about 30 minutes apart.

Spencer stopped, stared at him. It was the first time that Ryan had shocked him into silence since they were 8/9 and Ryan had mentioned that he thought that Daniel Peirce had pretty eyes.

"You mean Pete hadn't done massive amounts of drugs in the backroom and was hallucinating?"

"We were just talking; I can have conversations with people without having sex with them."

Spencer shook his head. "I would maybe not mention that in your defense when Pete calls."

"Pete's engaged, to Ashlee Simpson of all people; Mikey is married, I'm with Keltie. What…"

Ryan's 'kick buzzed at him and Ryan stopped talking and stared down at it.

"Right, I'll leave you alone to talk to Pete. Jon, Brendon and Keltie have gone out for breakfast; they're bringing back muffins and coffee for us. I'll check back in about an hour and see if Pete has managed to kill you through your phone," Spencer pushed himself off the bed and walked to the door.

Ryan frowned at his phone and finally picked it up.

"Hello?" his voice was wary, he hated that.

"What. The. Fucking. Hell. Ross."

******************************************************************************

Ryan wondered if Mikey had known that Pete was out in the hallway, if that was why he'd kept his hand pressed against his back and whispered in his ear and kissed his forehead and made it look like they were something they weren't.

"Sometimes the best truths are the ones that can be left up to interpretation."

He remembered him saying that, whispering it into his ear.

There'd been about twenty minutes of rambling from Pete, before Ryan managed to piece enough of the rambling together to figure out that in Pete's mind, the events that he'd seen translated into Ryan and Mikey being involved in some torrid love affair, had been for years, using Keltie and Alicia to throw off suspicion and using each other as substitutes because they couldn't have him…

Well Ryan might have hung up on him at that point.

He didn't need Pete telling him that he couldn't get someone like Mikey Way unless they were using him to get to somebody else.

Besides he knew that already, it wasn't as much of a shocker as Pete probably thought it was.

There were seven messages from people other then Pete on his voice mail.

One of them was from Mikey, "Gerard thinks that you're too pretty for me," voice soft and amused as he recited his number.

It took him thirteen seconds of staring at his phone, running his fingers over the numbers gently before he keyed it in.

"Was this your plan all along, make Pete jealous using me? Because Pete's just a little bit insane when it comes to you, I think I might actually fear for my life."

Mikey laughed.

******************************************************************************

It was like he was stuck in some awful version of telephone.

Except instead of Ryan ending up with something like leprosy or bad hair or something, he was involved in an affair with Mikey Way that he'd managed to keep secret from everyone.

Including himself.

It was exasperating, because Ryan couldn't keep secrets; Spencer of all people should have known that.

Did know that.

Except his best friend didn't know that, he instead was firmly in the 'why didn't you just tell us, we're supposed to be friends' camp, along with Brendon and Jon; Ryan had resorted to hanging out a lot with Zack who found the whole thing hysterically funny.

And actually believed him, because as he said, numerous times:

"Even if you managed to hide that from the guys, you couldn't hide it from the security teams that shadow you or the fans that stalk you."

Ryan thought about bringing up the half a dozen times he'd managed to slip away to spend time with Pete that neither their security or their fans knew about and decided that could possibly take away the one supporter (besides Mikey) that he had and decided to not say anything instead.

"This is insane," he muttered instead, locked away in his bunk, the others in the main lounge of the bus.

Probably talking about how he was a bad friend for not telling them about his illicit affair with Mikey Way.

Personally he was hoping this was some elaborate April Fool's joke and that in three months time everyone would have a great laugh at his expense and then he could kill them all and get the chair for mass murder.

"My band finds it totally amusing," Mikey said in his ear. He was laughing, the bastard. Ryan hated him a little for a minute, because this was all his fault.

If he'd just kept his hands and his lips to himself…

And Ryan had told him that they should leave separately. Although he wasn't sure if that would have made it worse or not an issue.

"Though they think that you're going to break my heart, are you going to break my heart, Ryan Ross?"

"I'm glad that you are finding this amusing, but you're not touring with five other bands that think you're trying to either drive Pete to murder or insanity, no one can seem to reach any sort of consensus as to what he's actually going to reach first."

"No, I just have to deal with my band. Which includes my brother, who thinks that you're very pretty, but a little young and possibly going through an experimental phase, then there's Frank who calls me a cradle robber under his breath when he thinks that I'm not paying attention to him. Not to mention the others."

Mikey sighed, Ryan sighed with him.

"What exactly were you hoping to accomplish?" Ryan asked.

"What makes you think that I was looking to accomplish anything?"

"We said like seventeen words to each other, then you kissed me and touched me. Did you know Pete was standing there waiting for you?"

"If I'd known Pete was there I would have done a lot more then kiss your forehead," Mikey retorted. There was a hint of anger; Ryan didn't know what he had to be angry about.

Besides…

"What do you mean?"

"He kept tossing you in my face, I mean we only met face to face the one time when he was there, but he'd send me e-mails with pictures and links and it was annoying as hell."

"He was trying to make you jealous, you know this," Ryan said. "You knew this back then."

He could vividly remember their faces when Pete had introduced them, Pete's satisfaction at making his point and Mikey's scowl at having got the point.

He'd been surprised that they hadn't immediately gotten back together.

"Pete's not my type, you know. Not usually. It was a strange summer, I was lonely, I thought he was interesting, things happened," Mikey said softly, the words whispered. Ryan could hear a rustling sound and knew that he was shifting around in his bunk.

"Pete's not my type," he repeated, "I fell in love with him anyway." And Ryan was confused, because Pete might not have been Mikey's type usually, but Mikey was certainly Pete's type always. Though he couldn't figure out Mikey's motive for all of this, if Pete wasn't his type, why was he in the middle of this long, never-ending game of tug of war between the two of them if Mikey didn't even want Pete back?

He'd had massive amounts of opportunities.

"He was showing you off…"

"I know, to make you jealous."

"No, he was showing you off, displaying you. Because he's not my type but you are, and he knew that. Knew exactly how to press my buttons, he was showing me 'see, I got there first, and if you'd stayed with me, if you came back to me, you'd be here with me, with him'."

Ryan opened his mouth, closed it, had absolutely no idea what to say in response to that.

"I'll talk to you later, Ryan Ross."

And Ryan lay there, staring at the top of his bunk; phone pressed to his ear and wondered what the hell had just happened.

******************************************************************************

He was avoiding his sidekick; he knew this, leaving it buried in the sheets of his bunk on the nights they stayed in hotels, turning it off when he had it in his pocket.

Mikey had left four voice mails before he figured out that Ryan was avoiding him.

Then he chose a different tact.

"Bob says that you and Mikey are fighting," Spencer said, he was perched on the couch next to Ryan and looked like he would rather be having any other conversation then the one that he was in.

"We're not fighting," Ryan said, staring at the TV. Maybe if he looked engrossed in the, he tilted his head, whatever the hell they were watching Spencer would leave. And they could finish this conversation never. "And why are you talking to Bob?"

"Well they're like our in-laws now, right? And as such, they're concerned about the status of your relationship seeing as how you won't talk to Mikey, so they're calling us to find out what's going on, because Bob says that Mikey is upset and doesn't understand," Ryan looked at him from the corner of his eye. Spencer had the supportive look on his face that really meant that he could give a shit if Mikey and Ryan were fighting; he was just concerned about how said fight was going to interfere with him.

"Mikey's upset about something else then," Ryan said firmly. "Because we're not even friends and…"

And Mikey was leaving him voicemails…

"You should talk to him, he's your boyfriend Ryan and you went through a lot of trouble to keep it a secret from Pete and everyone so why are you trying to blow it now?" Spencer's tone said that he understood the desire to keep the secret from Pete and everyone else they knew, but still didn't get why Ryan hadn't told him.

Ryan had given up trying to convince him that he and Mikey weren't together.

He thought they might figure it out when Mikey got married again.

He hoped that he wasn't being used in the divorce between Mikey and Alicia as the cause of their split.

Spencer dropped his sidekick into his lap.

"You should call him," he advised, then stood, his work done, he left.

Ryan looked at the sidekick then set it off to the side and stared at the TV.

He still couldn't figure out what the hell he was watching… but it was bright and shiny and the people seemed to have lots of energy.

******************************************************************************

"Did you break up with Mikey?" Pete asked, Ryan choked on the water he'd just swallowed. Jon helpfully pounded on his back.

"What?" Ryan managed, when he'd caught his breath and Jon had stopped hitting him.

"Did you break up with Mikey?" Pete asked again, patiently. His fingers were tapping an uneven rhythm against his leg.

"We weren't ever together," Ryan muttered.

"I know a few people that you guys could talk to, you spend so much time apart maybe you need someone to help you bridge the distance," Pete said helpfully, the expression on his face was anything but helpful.

Ryan looked down at his plate instead; he'd drawn an upside down smile in his mashed potatoes. He refused to call it a frown because he wasn't upset.

"I'm not going into therapy with someone that I'm not even dating."

******************************************************************************

"Did you sic Pete on me?" Ryan demanded. Mikey was silent on the other end of the phone.

"Excuse me?" the voice that answered him was definitely not Mikey's and Ryan almost dropped his phone, he didn't think he'd dialed the wrong number; he'd pressed memory 6 which was Mikey's.

"Mikey?"

"No, Gerard… Ryan?"

"Crap," Ryan muttered, he could feel his face flushing, he was really glad that he was alone in his bunk so that there were no witnesses.

"Mikey's outside, did you want me to go get him?" Gerard asked, his voice was calm and sweet. Very gentle, a far cry from the screaming ball of energy that he could be when he was on stage.

"Um, no… I'll just… I'll call back," Ryan said quickly, he didn't listen to what Gerard said in response, just shut the phone off, dropped it beside him on his bunk and covered his face with his hands.

Maybe if he went into hiding? No electronic devices or people, maybe then this would all go away… or he would wake up and find it was some horrible nightmare.

******************************************************************************

"Does this mean that you're talking to me again?" Mikey asked by way of hello. Ryan was silent for a long second.

"Pete thinks we should go into therapy," he finally said.

It took three minutes and four seconds for Mikey to respond, he was too busy laughing on the other end. Ryan stared at the top of his bunk and contemplated a life style change while he waited for the laughter to die down.

Maybe he could be a carpenter? He'd always liked working with his hands… though he disliked getting dirty.

"Therapy?" Mikey asked, his voice still had an audible giggle to it, Ryan wished he was there because he thought he'd seen maybe one picture of Mikey actually smiling and it had lit up his entire face. Laughter, that long and hard, probably made him glow.

"He thinks that because we spend so much time apart that maybe we're just having trouble adjusting to the distance," Ryan said primly.

"He's already talked to a therapist, hasn't he," Mikey sighed, Ryan sighed in response.

"He said he needed to gauge them first, make sure they weren't a security risk," Ryan sighed again.

"Ryan…"

"At some point, someone is going to realize that we're not actually dating, right? Before they start a gift registry and start planning the commitment ceremony and Spencer and Brendon start fighting over who's going to be my best man and everything?"

"Would it be so bad to be dating me Ryan Ross?"

"But we're not," Ryan said, he didn't whine it, he wanted to, but he didn't. "You have a wife, I have a girlfriend, I don't get why everyone thinks this is such an amazing thing when if it were true we would be cheating on people that we profess to love."

"Because Pete knows enough people in my sphere of friends to know that Alicia and I have been separated for almost nine months and I know enough people in your sphere to know that Keltie is for show."

"She's still my friend, I wouldn't hurt her like that," and he wouldn't, Keltie had been so unbelievably good for him.

Except, she seemed to believe, like everyone else that he was dating Mikey so she was distancing herself and that hurt a little bit because she was nice to talk to and understood him better then everyone but Spencer and Brendon and Jon.

"You're going to be in Jersey at the end of the week, aren't you," it wasn't a question. So Ryan knew that Mikey already knew the answer to that.

"How do you know that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Bob talks to Patrick, which is probably how Pete found out that we were 'fighting'," Ryan grinned, because he could hear the quotes. "Let me take you out for coffee."

Ryan pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it, then looked around his bunk, the curtain was drawn, it was dark. He could hear the low voices of Spencer and Jon and Brendon talking in the lounge.

"Like a date?"

"If you want to call it a date, then I guess we can," he could hear the smile in Mikey's voice. "But I was more thinking we could be two friends getting together and drinking coffee and maybe having a snack while we talked."

"Two friends that all their other friends think are dating… how is us getting coffee supposed to convince anyone that we're not, in fact, dating?" Ryan stated, Mikey laughed at him.

"Who said I wanted anyone to think we weren't?"

"Pete is going to kill me, and when he does I'm going to come back and haunt your ass," Ryan said firmly. Mikey just laughed at him again.

"Pete loves you, and he loves me and he's not going to kill anyone, because he doesn't know it yet, but he still has hope that this is all going to work out in his favor if he just waits long enough."

"Pete's not in love with me," Ryan said, he knew that as certainly as he knew that he and Mikey weren't dating. "And he's engaged. To Ashlee Simpson," Ryan didn't sneer at the name, he did make the sign of the cross though because he didn't want her to suddenly appear and the devil, when his/her name was invoked, typically did. "And you haven't seen the way he's been staring at me, like he's mentally calculating the size of the coffin that he'll need and what type of wood he's going to use and where the knife he's going to stab in my back or slit my throat with is going to come from."

"He's just mad that we're not playing by his rules."

"Mad at what?"

"So coffee, my treat," Mikey said, ignoring everything that Ryan was saying.

"Kill me, haunt you," Ryan said.

"Gerard knows at least four different exorcisms; I'm pretty sure one of them will work if it comes to that."

"Mikey," Ryan muttered helplessly. And it would figure that Gerard would know exorcisms, he probably had performed some and kept the stuff for them under his bunk where Ryan kept his makeup kit and extra scarves.

"I'll see you at the end of the week."

******************************************************************************

Zack went with him; once he was sure the others were safely ensconced in their rooms. Ryan had told them he was going to a bookstore and they avoided going with him to bookstores the way they avoided going to shoe stores with Spencer.

Zack knew where they were going.

"You're not dating him, right?" Zack asked, slightly confused voice.

"We're just friends," Ryan assured him. "He's been getting a lot of flak from his guys about this too, so we're going to figure out a way to fix it."

He was pretty sure that wasn't Mikey's intent, he was pretty sure that Mikey's intent was to get them photographed together and convince Ryan to continue to pretend to be boyfriends, if not actually be boyfriends… but Zack looked like he needed the reassurance that Ryan hadn't, in fact, been dating Mikey all along.

He'd not dressed up, he wasn't sure it was worth the effort yet, he had changed four times before he'd settled on the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing. Luckily no one had been in the room with him because it would have given the game away that he wasn't going to the bookstore.

He had a hat and a coat, no scarves because that had been the last album and while they were still touring it they'd moved on to working on their third and he hadn't figured out what the style of that one was going to settle at yet.

"Ryan," Mikey smiled at him, leaned over the table and kissed his forehead. Zack settled in at the next table.

There was coffee on the table and a chocolate, chocolate chip muffin waiting for him.

"How?"

"Bob talked to Spencer," Mikey leaned back in the booth, Ryan tore at his muffin and took a sip of his coffee, all the while not looking at Mikey. Because the muffin was his favorite and his coffee was exactly the way that he liked it and Mikey looked beautiful and relaxed and sort of happy to see him and Ryan didn't get to keep the things that looked like Mikey.

"Are you going to break my heart Ryan Ross?" Mikey asked, voice low and soft.

He was honest and he smiled to soften the blow.

"No… but I think you might break mine."

******************************************************************************

Mikey went with him to the bookstore.

"You told your guys you were going, let's not make a liar out of you just yet," Mikey said. Their hands brushed together as they walked, talking in quiet voices.

Zack trailing behind them with a disapproving look, possibly he was being confronted with images of the number of ways that Pete would attempt to kill Ryan that he would then have to thwart.

Mikey left him alone for an hour in the bookstore, Ryan didn't know what he was looking at but by the time he reappeared at Ryan's elbow, Ryan had four books and was contemplating a fifth that he'd heard good things about but hadn't liked the last three things the author had written.

Mikey looked at the book, looked at Ryan and gently pulled the book from Ryan's hands and placed it back on the shelf.

"You won't like it," he said then steered Ryan towards the front of the store and the registers. Zack still looked unhappy at the turn of events that had Mikey putting a hand low on Ryan's back and brushing his lips against his temple.

Ryan didn't see the cameras but he knew they were there, even as he turned and flashed a quick smile at Mikey that Mikey returned not at all hesitantly.

"In for a penny, in for a pound."

"It'll be worth it, Ryan. I promise. When you've got Pete Wentz at your beck and call and someone to help you deal with him…it'll all be worth it," Mikey whispered against his temple. "When we've got you pressed between us, when you can't think or feel anything but us, it'll all be worth it."

Ryan shivered, he couldn't help himself.

"I haven't agreed to anything yet, and maybe I don't want Pete anymore."

He could feel Mikey's lips curve against his skin and barely heard the murmured, "liar."

******************************************************************************

Mikey dropped him off at the front door of the hotel, a quick press of lips against his, arms warm around his shoulders as he held him in a tight hug before releasing him back to the care of his bandmates.

Ryan could feel Zack scowling at him but couldn't bring himself to care.

"I haven't made a fool of you, Zack. I promise," Ryan said, because this man was responsible for keeping insane fans away from him and Ryan still wanted him to want to do that in the morning.

"That looked like a boyfriend to me," Zack said, he sounded angry.

"It was a first date," Ryan said, he pressed his fingers to his lips, he usually didn't kiss until at least the third.

"You took me on your first date?" Zack asked, now he sounded amused and Ryan would rather he find amusement on his behalf instead of be mad at him.

Ryan rolled his eyes, because like Zack would have let him wander around by himself while they were on tour.

"You took Mikey Way to a bookstore for your first date?"

******************************************************************************

FIC: SPN/P!ATD - Angels Among Us - PG

2007-11-01T21:46:49Z

Do you know what the great thing about being a nobody in fandom means? It means that I can post crack like this (and the one that'll follow it in a few days) and maybe only like five people will read it so I won't have to defend my sanity to a large number of people.

A Supernatural/Panic! At The Disco crossover.

Summary: Ryan never knows how Brendon talks him into doing things like this.

TITLE: Angels Among Us
RATING: PG (for language)
PAIRING: Ryan/Brendon, other pairings hinted at
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Ryan never knows how Brendon talks him into doing things like this.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these boys and I'm pretty sure that this has never happened.

Angels Among Us

Ryan never knows how Brendon talks him into doing things like this.

Wandering, late at night, without bodyguards, down to the venue so that they can hear the echoes of their own voices without the added screaming of the fans.

Brendon is happy, bouncing along beside him. He'd tried to take Ryan's hand twice; Ryan had let him squeeze it before dropping it.

He didn't know why, but he thought it best that he keep his hands free.

He just glared at Brendon when he tried to take it up a third time.

"Do you want pictures on the net?" he hissed.

"It's two in the morning, relax," Brendon grinned at him, bussed a kiss against his cheek and ran down the aisle. Singing Mary had a Little Lamb at the top of his lungs.

Ryan grinned, he couldn't help himself. Brendon's enthusiasm was infectious. He was on the stage now, ballroom dancing with himself.

"Hurry the hell up Ross, or I'll find a mop to dance with," Brendon called.

"At least you won't step on its feet," Ryan yelled back.

Brendon mock gasped and started singing again.

Ryan shook his head, stiffened when he felt a twinge in his shoulders.

Long forgotten pain burst below his shoulder blades and he glanced to the right and the left, turned a slow circle. Eyes searching the nooks and crannies and not finding anything.

Someone here, someone here, run, hide, his mind screamed at him.

On the stage Brendon was humming now instead of singing, still dancing, oblivious.

Ryan took a step back and heard Brendon yell his name when he went flying backwards.

Back hitting the wall and he groaned, he felt wetness streaming down his cheek and lifted a hand. Long fingers stroked against his cheek and came away showing blood, in the space next to him he felt more then saw the shadows form a figure.

From the corner of his eye he could see Brendon jumping down from the stage, running towards him and he raised a hand as if to halt him.

"No."

******************************************************************************

They were all hovering. Overly solicitous and Ryan thought he might go mad before they backed off.

Spencer and Brendon had for the most part, but they'd sicced Jon on him and Pete was calling three times a day.

Two people that Ryan had a hard time ignoring or being angry with.

"Let us take care of you, we want to take care of you," Jon had said, arm around his shoulder, forcing his head down onto his shoulder.

Being angry with Jon was like being mad at a loveable puppy who just wanted to sit next to you and love you forever.

"I can fly out there, I have like six hours that are totally unscheduled," Pete had whispered into his phone.

And Pete… because it was Pete. The one person, besides Spencer, who knew him the best in the world.

It had been a week, he wasn't even hurt anymore, the bandage had come off his head that morning. The doctor had said that they were good to perform that night.

Ryan was fine, though he thought he might be going just a bit crazy from not being allowed to walk to the bathroom by himself.

"He's just in here," Zack was saying when he opened the door. Two men followed him in, one light, one dark.

"Zack?" Jon was sitting up straight next to him.

"These two officers just have a few more questions for Ryan," Zack smiled. Ryan tilted his head.

"Hasn't he answered enough questions?" Spencer came to stand in front of him, emanating disapproval and anger. "He was the one that was attacked."

"We're just trying to make sure that we have all the facts…" the light one said, lazy smirk on his face and Ryan could see Spencer's back stiffen.

"It's fine, I could use some more water anyway," Ryan said calmly. "Maybe a muffin."

Zack shepherded them out, Spencer muttering to Jon and Ryan fastened his eyes back on the two men again.

They stared back at him.

"We just have…" the dark one started after a pointed glance by the light one.

"What names did you give Zack?" Ryan asked idly. He picked up the pad and pen sitting on the coffee table, curled his feet up under him. Began writing.

The dark one blinked, they exchanged another glance.

"What do you mean?" the light one asked, suspicion tingeing each word.

Ryan let a soft smile cross his lips and leaned forward to set the pad down, they both looked at it, but only the dark one started.

"I'll tell you what you want to know, if you tell me your true names."

"Christo," the light one muttered.

Ryan tilted his head, raised one eyebrow.

"Dean," the dark one murmured, picking up the pad.

"Dude…"

"My name is Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean."

Dean sputtered.

Ryan smiled.

"This is angelic script," Sam said softly, his fingers traced over the words. "How did you."

"Only an angel can write in angelic script," Ryan stated. "I supposed you can infer the truth from that."

"Why were you attacked? Why didn't you protect yourself?"

"I'm in hiding, part of being in hiding is not revealing myself when some minor level demon attacks me seeking to force me to reveal myself," Ryan rolled his eyes.

"Hiding," Dean laughed. "You're a rock star, your picture is in magazines, how is that, in any way, hiding?"

"If you don't want something found, you hide it in plain sight. Everyone sees it, no one connects it with what they're looking for."

Sam was still staring down at the pad, fingers still tracing. When he looked up his eyes were pain filled and Ryan stared at him with nothing in his eyes and no emotion on his face.

"Dean," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

Dean looked over at him; Ryan could see the confusion on his face, mouth open to say something that never got uttered as Sam punched him.

He hit his head on the coffee table when he went down, he lay still.

"This isn't the way to go about things," Ryan said quietly, he watched Dean not move and bit his lower lip.

"I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice, you do this you have no choices."

"It's an even exchange, you for Dean's soul."

Ryan smiled gently even as he got to his feet. "You don't understand, not yet, but there is no such thing as an even exchange, you do this, you damn us both to hell."

******************************************************************************

Dean came to with a groan and found three pissed off members of a rock band and an irate bodyguard staring down at him.

"Fuck," he pressed a hand to his head and pushed himself to a sitting position. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell are you doing Sammy," he muttered under his breath.

"Where's Ryan?" the singer asked. He'd done the searches on the Internet because at first glance Ryan Ross had appeared to be a really pretty girl, he'd do a lot for a pretty girl.

Ryan Ross wasn't a pretty girl though; he was a pretty boy, and not even that.

"My brother is doing something incredibly stupid… even for him."

******************************************************************************

"Name's Bobby," the older man had said, then had pulled Dean away and they were having a quiet, fierce conversation by the window, punctuated by a lot of hands moving and Dean looking frustrated.

Spencer was looking at the pad that Dean had waved at Bobby, then dropped on the couch when Bobby had dragged him off.

"What is this?" he asked and Brendon was by his side in an instant. Jon joining him a moment later, phone still pressed to his ear.

Pete was a little upset and a lot pissed off.

Spencer thought that Ryan might have liked the idea that Pete cared enough to be concerned, cared enough that he was prepared to jump on the next flight and Jon (and Patrick on the other end, Spencer had heard his raised voice more then once through Jon's phone) were still trying to talk him out of it.

Spencer thought they might have a better chance of that if hell froze over first, but Jon and Patrick liked to fight battles that they had no chance of winning.

"This looks familiar," Brendon said, that caught the attention of Dean and Bobby and they stopped arguing long enough to come over to them.

"Familiar?" Bobby asked.

"Can you translate it?" Dean asked.

Brendon looked between them with a perplexed look on his face.

"Translate it?" he repeated, shaking his head. "It's just doodling, Ryan draws stuff like this all the time," he flushed slightly.

Bobby and Dean exchanged a silent look.

"Take your shirt off," Dean said, Brendon gaped at him and Spencer and Jon frowned.

"I don't think so," Brendon sputtered. "You might be attractive and all, but you're really not my type."

"You're not really my type either," Dean shrugged, then sighed. Like it wasn't worth the effort. "I need to see your back."

Brendon blinked. "Oh, why didn't you just say so," he muttered, pulling his t-shirt up over his head and turning around.

"Hold on," Jon said into the phone, Spencer hadn't even realized that he still had Pete on the line. "He's having Brendon take off his shirt… I don't know what he's looking for, Jesus Pete. I will hang up on your ass."

"What are you thinking?" Bobby asked, curious, like the rest of them. Spencer felt slightly reassured that this man who was apparently some sort of friend of Dean's had no clue what Dean was looking for or at.

Of course it was possible that Dean didn't know what he was looking for either, because he was looking back and forth between the pad that Spencer held in his hands and Brendon's back, he touched right above Brendon's shoulders blades, Brendon shivered and he ran a finger in a straight line between them.

"I think…" Dean started. "Mostrare," he said suddenly. His pronunciation was horrible, Spencer decided, but it didn't seem to matter.

Not in the least, not for what he was trying to accomplish.

Because Brendon yelped suddenly, that was the only word for the sound that came out of his mouth and then his back lit up, the room lit up, because under their shirts Spencer's back and Jon's were doing the same.

He took small comfort in the fact that at least neither one of them had yelped and embarrassed themselves in front of two men that they didn't know and couldn't be sure they could trust.

"What. The. Fuck?" he could hear Patrick yelling over the phone.

"They're protection symbols," Dean laughed suddenly. "He's painted them all in fucking protection symbols."

******************************************************************************

Ryan shivered, wrapped his arms around his body.

"Are you cold?" Sam asked next to him, he was already reaching for the heater controls.

"No… no, I'm fine," Ryan said. He forced himself to relax.

Someone knew, someone had said the word and the safeguards that he'd put into place to protect, well everyone… they'd been revealed.

It was probably Dean he decided, Dean would have remembered the fact that he'd been writing in an ancient script that hadn't been used as a written language since creation.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"About you?" Sam asked in return, glancing over at him. Ryan nodded. "Someone left an e-mail message."

"What did it say?"

Sam bit his lips, wouldn't look back over at him. "It just said that they would consider it an even exchange, Dean's soul for the angel in hiding on Earth. I thought it was a joke, but a couple of days later there was a picture of you in my in-box and a newspaper report about how you'd been attacked by an unknown assailant."

Ryan nodded.

"You said that there was no such thing as an even exchange, that I would damn us both… What did you mean by that?"

"I meant exactly what it sounds like I mean. You think you're saving your brother, but if you succeed in this, if you succeed in delivering me to whoever you think is going to honor the bargain for your brothers soul, if you succeed…" Ryan shivered again, the marks were once more in hiding. He was glad that he wasn't the one answering the questions that were surely arising.

"This isn't an even exchange because if you succeed there will be no reason to save your brother, you will plunge this world into darkness and we'll be the first to fall."

"You could stop me," Sam said softly, "you could make me not do this."

"No, I can't," Ryan said gently. "Only you can make the right choice. This is your path Samuel Winchester, and I might be here, but you are walking it alone."

******************************************************************************

"They're protection symbols," Dean said for the fifth time, Jon still shook his head like he didn't understand.

"He's still saying protection symbols," he said into the phone. Dean guessed from the way that the questions kept coming from the other end, that Pete and Patrick were also painted in the symbols.

That boy Ryan Ross, he sure did get around.

"We can use the symbols to track Sam and the…" Bobby didn't say angel, for that Dean was grateful, because he still wasn't sure that Sam hadn't gone off the deep end and Ryan Ross was some sort of witch or something.

"We don't need to use the symbols to track them, I know where Sammy is going," Dean said. "He thinks he's going to exchange Ryan for my soul. He's going to the crossroads."

"Ryan isn't being exchanged for anything," Spencer had his arms crossed over his chest and Dean thought that Sam's bitchface had nothing on this kids.

"Well no, I'm hoping that Sammy's not that stupid. He'll destroy everything in creation."

Brendon looked at him in confusion.

"They're looking to exchange my soul for an angel, if they can corrupt said angel they plunge this entire world into darkness and hell runs rampant on earth."

"Well that doesn't sound like any fun."

Dean laughed harshly. "Trust me it won't be."

******************************************************************************

Dean told them where they were going and there was a limo and a plane waiting to take them there.

Dean was humming under his breath and trying not to look out the windows. It was a private jet; probably all things considered it was a smooth ride as well.

It was still a small, tiny metal box that had no business being in the air.

The one bright side had to have been that they didn't have to pick and choose which weapons could actually make it through security leaving them sorely underarmed; although he didn't think that all the weapons in the world in addition to the cushy seats and fully stocked bar made him feel any safer being thousands of miles off the ground.

And he couldn't drink, couldn't take advantage of the bar because he knew that he was going to need all of his faculties to deal with this situation that Sam had left him stuck in.

He hated flying and he hated planes and he hated planes that came equipped with another pissed off rock star. This one tattooed to the nines and glaring at him like Dean had any control over Sam whatsoever.

The pretty boy brigade (as Dean had taken to calling them in his head, not out loud because Spencer Smith, at least, might actually be able to kill with his glare and Dean didn't want to test that theory) talked in hushed tones and watched with wary eyes while Dean and Bobby went through the motions of cleaning weapons.

They wouldn't do any good if they got there and Sam had already made the bargain.

"Your brother's an idiot," Bobby muttered. Like he hadn't been muttering the same exact thing for the last hour they'd been in the air.

Dean hmmphed at him, agreed with him even. Though he could see where Sam was coming from, see where in his brothers eyes this was a fair exchange.

Except for how he was going to hand one of the purest things in the world over to one of the most evil and hope that it was going to honor its agreement.

He could only hope that they got there first, that Dean could knock Sam on his ass in retaliation for the sucker punch that had laid him on his.

He felt the plane dip and shift and started humming again, Bobby started packing up the weapons that they'd strewn out along the floor.

"Guess we're almost there then."

******************************************************************************

There was a car waiting, no driver which Dean would have questioned if Zack hadn't climbed behind the wheel and stared at him like he should have known to call shotgun.

"I don't think we're all going to fit in here," Bobby said doubtfully.

"We'll fit," Brendon stated. And they did.

Of course that left Bobby shoved up against the door and Patrick sitting in Pete's lap, Brendon across Spencer's and Jon shoved into the breath of air between them.

"You couldn't have rented a minivan or something," Spencer muttered.

Pete snarled.

"It was a choice between this and a two seater convertible; be grateful."

******************************************************************************

The crossroads was empty and dark.

No one around, not even the hint of someone having been there.

"Did we beat them?" Spencer asked. He was rubbing his hands together.

"Pretty sure, we don't seem to be in hell, so…" Dean shrugged. He had a gun in one hand and two more within easy access if it came to it.

"Are you sure we're even at the right place?" Pete asked.

"It's the only crossroads Sam knows, this is the one that he'll try to bargain at."

There was the rumbling of a car engine, beloved and familiar and he would kick Sam's ass for more then the kidnapping if he'd so much as dented his baby. He gestured for everyone to get out of sight. The car was parked out of sight, everyone was there and then not, hiding in tall brush or as far away as they could get and still see and hear.

Bobby tugged on his arm and they put themselves out of sight as well.

He saw the head lights and then they went out and the car turned off.

Sam wandered into view and Dean was only kept on the ground by Bobby's hand on his arm.

There was Ryan beside him and they should stop him now, should pull Ryan away and force Sam to explain himself… except Bobby's hand was still on his arm.

"So you succeeded," there was a voice and then there was a body. Male this time, a boy of maybe thirteen, he was smiling. Even from where he was on the ground he could see Ryan shiver.

"You said that if I gave you him that you would consider Dean's soul in the clear," Sam said.

"So I did," the boy was talking to Sam, but walking circles around Ryan. Eyeing him like he was a particularly fine piece of meat and had absolutely no clue where he was going to put his first cut.

Ryan was staring at the ground, not looking at anything, hands at his side.

"How do I know that you've done it, that you've upheld your end of the bargain?" Sam persisted.

"I don't go back on my word," the boy snapped. "You've given me him, which is what I asked for and in four days, when your brother doesn't keel over dead you'll know that my word is my bond."

Sam nodded and took a step back.

"Bobby," Dean hissed. If they waited much longer they had no way of stopping this, of ending it before hell broke loose.

"We're going to have such fun, you and I," the boy chortled, he touched Ryan's face and Ryan's eyes rose to meet his.

Lightning snapped across the sky, thunder rumbled in the distance.

From where they were, from where Bobby was coming up into a crouch and over to the left he could see Ryan's friends coming to their feet, Dean could see the boy's eyes widen, could see him take a step back.

Or try to; Ryan's hand came flying up, wrapped around his wrist in a tight hold.

"Are we," Ryan's head tilted to the side.

"What is this?" the boy snarled, struggling.

"This is free will," Ryan said softly, "I'm here, of my own free will. Dean Winchester's soul is no longer yours; your word is your bond."

"You've tricked me," the boy screamed, struggling in the iron hold that Ryan had on his wrist. Sam was still backing up.

"Ryan," Brendon called, Dean glanced to the left and saw Spencer and Jon, the entire group moving forward as one.

They looked panicked and fearful, scared.

Ryan smiled and he released the boy and his arms flew out to his side, white light erupting from his chest and body and Dean had to cover his eyes it was so blinding. When it was gone, when even the dotted remnants no longer remained…

Neither did Ryan or the boy.

******************************************************************************

"This has to be the most unbelievably stupid thing that you've ever done," Dean was shaking Sam.

Bobby was just shaking his head.

"How did you convince him to give himself up?" Dean asked.

"I didn't convince him of anything," Sam shook his head, pulling away from Dean. He winced and Dean thought that the bruise that Pete Wentz had left on his cheek was probably the least of what Sam deserved for pulling something so harebrained.

"Right up until we got here my intent was to do the trade, Ryan must have..."

"He figured out a way to give you what you wanted and not destroy the earth in the process," Bobby said. "Smart kid, you should thank him if he shows back up again for not damning you and all of a creation to hell."

******************************************************************************

It was four weeks before Ryan Ross appeared again.

Four weeks of alternating phone calls from the three remaining members of Panic! At The Disco and Pete Wentz.

Four weeks of explaining that, 'no, we don't have any way of knowing if Ryan Ross was going to reappear' and 'no, we have no idea where he disappeared to' and 'no, we don't have any way of getting in touch with him'.

Four weeks of Pete and Spencer threatening to force Sam to explain to all the heartbroken fans of Panic! why the band no longer existed and why Ryan was no longer around.

Sam had taken to not answering his phone, not even for Dean.

Which was why Dean was staring at Ryan from across the expanse of a diner table alone. He'd just sort of appeared there between one bite and the next.

"You couldn't have gone to your friends first? You know they're kind of worried," Dean said.

"I wanted to see you first," Ryan said. "Make sure there weren't any… side affects."

"What like me sprouting wings or deciding to take a vow of celibacy?"

"Or demons being more drawn to you then usual."

"Demons are already drawn to me, it's my animal magnetism… no really, you couldn't have gone to your friends first? They're kind of the biggest pains in the ass ever."

"I'll make my way there, you'll help me," Ryan said, he tapped a finger against Dean's plate and then dragged it across the table towards himself.

"They not feed you where you were?" Dean asked, watching Ryan finish his breakfast off in about four swallows. He must have a hollow leg somewhere Dean decided.

"The food was perfect, everything I could have hoped for."

"Then why are you eating like you haven't eaten in four weeks?"

"Is that how long I've been gone?" Ryan looked up in surprise.

"You didn't know?"

Ryan shook his head. "Time moves a little bit differently there, it felt like the blink of an eye."

"I didn't think they'd send you back, you know, now that your cover is blown."

"They really didn't have much choice."

"Throw a bitch fit did you," Dean smirked.

"I'm here aren't I… besides, I've not accomplished here what I'm meant to."

Dean sipped at his coffee, didn't ask Ryan what his mission was because he was sure that he would tell, watched Ryan shove the empty plate to the edge of the booth.

"I thought angels were supposed to be pure, non-sexual beings."

"They are?" Ryan's lips quirked.

"Yeah, they must have got that part wrong. Because you painted at least five guys that I know about in protections symbols and they would have had to have been naked in order for you to do that."

"Maybe they all sleep really heavily and I move very quietly."

Dean snorted.

"I'm not sleeping with them," Ryan said. At Dean's raised eyebrow he amended that with a, "Well not all of them."

******************************************************************************

Brendon was the first one to him, Dean thought that it was because he hadn't stopped to take off his guitar (like Jon had) or had to come all the way around the drums (like Spencer had), or from another room altogether (like Pete and Patrick).

Brendon threw his arms around him, hugged him tight, guitar between them. There was a point where Ryan's feet weren't even touching the ground; Brendon was mumbling something against Ryan's neck that Dean couldn't hear.

He looked away when Brendon drew back, cupped Ryan's face in his hands and kissed him like he might never get another chance.

"Ryan Ross, you've got a lot of explaining to do," Pete announced, before yanking him away from Brendon and hugging him tightly himself, Spencer and Jon pulled him away from Pete and wrapped their arms around him together.

"Guys I can't breathe," Ryan stated, and he sounded really breathless but also like he didn't care in the least. They pulled back but didn't let go of him. Ryan looked over at where Patrick was standing, half a smirk on his face, arms crossed over his chest.

"Did you want to try and strangle me too?"

"No, I'm good," Patrick shook his head.

"I can't believe you went to them first," Brendon said accusatorily. "Aren't we your friends and your family and…"

"I needed to make sure that Dean was still alive and that you hadn't killed Sam for trying to save his brother before you put me under lock and key and didn't let me go anywhere or do anything by myself."

"We would have let you see them," Pete said, he touched Ryan's arm, laced their fingers together and managed some contorted move that got Ryan away from where he was still between Spencer and Jon and put him between Pete and Brendon.

"You know after we had you implanted with some sort of tracking device, so that if you manage to sneak away from Zack who is going to be watching you 24/7 we can find you," Brendon added, he was grinning, bouncing on his toes. Ryan touched his back and leaned into him.

"I don't need a bodyguard," Ryan said.

"No, you need a babysitter, but we're making do," Spencer said with an exaggerated eye roll, he looked over at where Dean and Sam were just standing. Dean had been hoping that they could sneak out before anyone really started paying attention to them.

"Are you guys staying?" he asked.

Dean shook his head. "We've got stuff to do, things to hunt."

Ryan untangled himself from his friends, ignoring Brendon's hand grabbing for him, Pete's hands attempting to latch onto his belt loops, and walked over to them.

"If you need…" he started and Dean shook his head.

"Thank you," he said. "For you know, coming up with a way for Sammy to not end the world and still save me."

Ryan smiled enigmatically.

"Well, you've still got things to do, Dean Winchester; I'm just making sure that you can still do them."

Dean looked at him and Ryan smiled, winked and walked back to his friends.

******************************************************************************

FIC: P!ATD/X-Men - Revolution - PG

2007-10-25T00:45:16Z

So I was watching X2 the other day and Ryan Ross (who has taken over my brain) decided to insert himself into that universe.

Have Ryan Ross shapeshifter, X2 cross-over fic, this ignores X3 completely and totally.

Summary: In theory Brendon knows who Ryan Ross is.

TITLE: Revolution
RATING: PG (for language)
PAIRING: Brendon POV, there are some statements that could be read as Ryan/Bobby/John subtext.
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: In theory Brendon knows who Ryan Ross is.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these boys and am almost positive that Ryan Ross isn't a shapeshifter that can make himself look like a girl.

Revolution

In theory Brendon knows who Ryan Ross is.

He goes to some swanky private school for 'gifted kids' in New York. Spencer always says it that way, with the quotes and everything. He's Spencer's best friend, even if Spencer hasn't actually seen him in over a year.

He's never met the kid, but in the two years that he's been friends with Spencer and Brent he likes to think that he's heard enough and seen enough pictures that he could pick him out of line up if need be.

He didn't think he'd ever need to know what Ryan Ross looks like, not really.

Except he shows up at Spencer's grandmothers too early, Spencer isn't there, but there is a tall, gangly kid with a glass in front of him and Spencer's grandmother beaming at him from over the length of the kitchen table.

Brendon stops dead and stares.

Because, hi, even with the bruises on his face he's unbelievably pretty.

"This is Ryan Ross," Spencer's grandmother says cheerfully. "This is one of Spencer's friends. They're in a band together."

Ryan nods and Brendon is slightly surprised at how deep and strong his voice is when he says, "I know."

Spencer comes in after that, rescues Brendon from embarrassing himself and proposing marriage to a kid that he just met.

He makes a noise that Brendon will be picking on him for the next ten years about and Ryan barely manages to push himself away from the table before Spencer is wrapping him up in a tight hug.

Ryan awkwardly pats him on the back and it takes a long minute for him to relax into Spencer. Brendon can see the moment that he does, all the muscles in his body just… let go, his eyes close and his head rests on Spencer's shoulder.

Brendon never thought it possible that he could ever be jealous of Spencer.

******************************************************************************

Ryan never tells them where the bruises come from; just that there'd been an incident at his school and he'd got the bruises defending some of the younger kids.

Brendon wonders what kind of trouble you can get into at a swanky, rich kid, private school.

He doesn't ask.

Because Ryan always seems really sad and every time Brendon sees him he has his cellphone pressed to his ear. He can never hear what is being said but when he hangs up Ryan is even sadder and Brendon goes out of his way to be even more of a clown trying to cheer him up.

******************************************************************************

Spencer not so casually mentions that Ryan, Spencer, Brent and Trevor used to be in a band together.

Brendon thinks it's his way of getting Ryan to do something besides be depressed all the time.

Ryan plays guitar, it takes three practices for him to feel comfortable with it in his hands and even when he finally does he still stares at his fingers when he's playing.

Like he's making sure that they're doing what they're supposed to be doing.

Spencer casually mentions that Ryan used to write and the look that Ryan shoots at him promises death and painful retribution.

Instead three days later he gives them a song about a cheating girlfriend.

******************************************************************************

Two guys show up at their practice space, Brendon has been eyeing the clock, he's got the 7 to midnight shift and he can't be late. Not again.

But then two guys show up, one with cool red sunglasses that he doesn't take off even when he comes inside. He looks sad the way that Ryan always looks sad.

The other has really cool hair and sideburns and Ryan looks wary upon seeing them, though he walks to the other side of the practice space with them.

It's notable that Ryan doesn't introduce them.

They can't hear what's being said and Brendon can tell that it's annoying and pissing Spencer off in equal measures.

Ryan has his arms wrapped around himself and the guy with the red glasses has his hand on his shoulder, their heads bent close together. The other guy is just watching, not saying anything.

Ryan shakes his head twice and he looks angry and the guy with the glasses looks resigned, like he'd expected nothing else.

When he turns to walk away from them Ryan is hunched slightly, like he expects a blow to come at any time.

"Ryan," the other guy says and Ryan stops but doesn't turn. "If he contacts you…"

Ryan nods once and instead of walking back to them he's walking out of the practice space.

Brent looks at the door that Ryan just disappeared through, and then at the guys that have invaded their space. Spencer is setting his sticks aside and getting up to follow Ryan.

Brendon shifts on his feet and thinks that he might actually be early to work.

"I guess we're done then?"

******************************************************************************

Brendon doesn't mean to eavesdrop.

But he'd shown up last and he'd seen Ryan standing at the end of the corridor, cellphone pressed to his ear and he'd ducked behind a potted tree and hid.

Because he didn't want to interrupt.

"I told them that I wouldn't," he's saying. "But they don't seem to believe that I'm more apt to punch him for abandoning us if he shows up here instead of talking to him."

He's quiet for long seconds, listening to whoever is on the other end.

"Bobby," Ryan sighs, from where he's hiding, between branches he can see Ryan drag a hand over his face. "Don't make this out like it's my fault, you were the one that was with him when he left, I was stuck with Peter and a bunch of ten year olds."

Ryan is silent again and Brendon wonders if Bobby is short for Roberta or Robert.

"I didn't leave because he left, I left because it was obvious that you'd made your choice and it wasn't me and it wasn't him and there didn't appear to be anything left to stay for."

Ryan looks sad as he says it, though this Bobby probably can't tell from the other end.

"I'm still your friend Bobby, I always will be."

******************************************************************************

Sometimes Brendon isn't sure who Ryan Ross is supposed to be.

He's quiet sometimes; full of anger and venom others.

He stays with Brendon at his apartment for four days after living with his father leaves him with bruises on his arms and face that replace the ones that faded months before.

He doesn't sleep, and Brendon can lay in his room listening to Ryan on the couch in the living room talking quietly on the phone to friends that are miles away.

Bobby almost always, though there are others that have called; that he's spoken to.

Peter, Sam, once a girl named Marie that Ryan had talked stiffly to for seventeen seconds before he'd used the fact that Brendon was staring at him over the kitchen table to hang up.

Brendon isn't positive, but he's pretty close to positive that Marie is the reason that Ryan is back in Vegas and sometimes refuses to talk to Bobby.

******************************************************************************

There's a guy waiting in their practice space when Ryan and Brendon show up, Spencer is leaning against a wall, drumsticks in his hands and Brent is hitting every wrong note possible for the opening verse of 'Lying'.

Ryan doesn't see him at first, Brendon knows this because he's still defending his decision to link their stuff to Pete Wentz's livejournal and when he does finally notice the guy straightening up and smirking at them he flies across the room in a flurry of anger and swinging arms.

The guy does a move that Brendon's only seen in movies, and he has Ryan pinned against his chest struggling in 2.5 seconds.

"Let me go you son of a bitch," Ryan is a seething, struggling mass of arms and legs.

Spencer is on his feet and Brendon recognizes that look as the one that Spencer gets when people are talking trash about them.

It means that he's going to hurt something, whether it be with hands or words.

The guy just holds on tight and when he sees the others starting over to them he nuzzles Ryan's ear and whispers something that Brendon doesn't hear, but serves to cause Ryan to go limp in his arms.

He lets go after that and Ryan pushes away, hand dragging through his hair and eyes not looking at anyone.

Spencer shifts to stand in front of him, shielding him from this guy that thought he could just show up here and try and hurt Ryan. Ryan is hurt enough by his dad, there doesn't need to be other people getting in on the action.

Brendon doesn't need to see Spencer's face to know that Spencer is pissed and one wrong move will have him trying to hit this interloper.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" the guy asks, his tone is lightly sarcastic and he has a lighter in one hand, flipping the top open and closed.

The movement draws all their eyes, Brendon can't figure out where it came from because when Ryan had been struggling in his arms he was sure that the guys' hands were empty.

"What are you doing here John? You can't just… They're looking for you and…"

"I know," John says, his eyes stay locked on Ryan, he's ignoring the rest of them and Brendon can tell that the longer it goes on the longer it's pissing Spencer off even more then seeing this guy immobilize Ryan had. "I already talked to them, I've already been back, but then you weren't there and when I asked Bobby said you were here."

"Ryan do you know this guy?" Spencer asks, his eyes are narrowed and even Brendon who doesn't claim to know anything about Ryan except that he snores when he's really, really tired; knows that the Ryan Ross that he knows wouldn't be friends with a kid like this.

He looks like a juvenile delinquent.

He looks like the type of guy that would pick on younger kids and leave Ryan with bruises.

Ryan looks at them, looks at John and just sighs. Like they're all causing him equal amounts of grief and suffering and he wants nothing more to do with them, ever.

"St. John Allerdyce meet my friends, Spencer Smith, Brent Wilson and Brendon Urie."

"Charmed," John says with that smirk, Brendon doesn't believe in violence but he wants to hit him right then.

"Can we have a minute?" Ryan asks, Spencer looks between them doubtfully. Like he's sure if they leave them alone that they'll have to help dispose of a body when they come back in.

"He promises to not be too violent, besides, he's due at least one good punch."

******************************************************************************

Ryan doesn't leave with John, that surprises Brendon as much as it pleases him that John was just as surprised.

He wants to tell this person that thought he could just waltz in and snatch Ryan back to New York without a by-your-leave that Ryan has friends and a band; he has a life with them now.

He pointedly doesn't think about the fact that this John Allerdyce that Ryan has never mentioned or talked to on the phone even once since he came back to Vegas might have just as much claim to Ryan as they do now.

Because they walk back in after Spencer decides they've given them enough time (Brendon thinks that Spencer just doesn't want to have to clean up the blood) and Ryan is still holding tight to John and John smirks over his shoulder at them but he doesn't let go, not even when Ryan does.

He keeps one arm around Ryan's shoulders, keeps him pulled tight to his side and Ryan doesn't pull away, the guy who jumps every time one of them tries to touch him (except Spencer, but Brendon thinks that's only because Ryan's known him for so long) just lets himself be held close and introduces them again, like they might have missed the first round due to the violence and then they all stand there staring at each other until Brent finally coughs and asks if they're going to rehearse or what.

John stays for their rehearsal, crouches against the back wall, eyes locked on Ryan the entire time.

When John leaves he holds Ryan tight, both of them ignoring Spencer's disapproving face and Brent's narrowed eyes, he cups Ryan's face in his hands and they stare at each other, looking for all the world like Ryan and Spencer with their 'conversation with no words' faces.

"I can't believe you're not coming back," John says and Ryan just looks at him.

"It's not my place anymore," Ryan says softly. "Besides, you still have Bobby."

John laughs once, it sounds bitter.

******************************************************************************

Ryan draws away from his old school friends and closer to the band.

Which is a good thing, because it would have been hard to explain to Pete Wentz when he contacts them why the kid that had linked them and talked to him wasn't with them anymore.

Pete signs them and they go off to Maryland to record, and even though they're close to where Ryan went to school he makes no effort to go visit.

The guy with the red sunglasses comes to them instead, taking Ryan away for a few hours. When they return they both have coffee's in hand and Ryan is carrying a bag from the local Borders.

"This is Scott Summers," Ryan introduces him. "He's one of my old teachers."

Brendon wonders if he's fought with his friends, from the way that John had been holding on to him he'd thought they wouldn't let go.

He doesn't ask, he doesn't really want to know the answer.

******************************************************************************

They wouldn't know that Ryan was different, that there was anything… extraordinary about him. That he'd been lying to them for almost a year and a half.

They wouldn't know anything if writers block hadn't hit and Ryan hadn't decided that going out dancing would maybe break it loose.

Brendon thinks that maybe Ryan would have preferred the writers block to having all his secrets openly displayed for all to see.

It's a Saturday, one of their few overnights, he comes out with Brendon and Brent and some of the guys from The Academy Is…

Spencer comes as well because he's not one for being left behind.

They've just been dancing, Ryan is working on the same bottle of water that he got when they entered the club, they're hot and sweaty and Brendon is laughing at something Jon is saying when he feels Ryan squeeze his arm.

Hard.

He looks over, because, ow, and he stops, blinks. He looks back over at Jon to see if he's seeing what Brendon is seeing and finds Jon staring at Ryan with wide eyes.

"I need to…" Ryan looks scared, frantic, he stands, sways and Brendon barely makes it to his feet to catch him before Ryan starts crumpling.

"We need to get him out of here," Jon says appearing on Ryan's other side. He pulls Ryan to his side, hides his face in his shoulder and Brendon watches helplessly as Jon tries to maneuver them through the crowd without getting jostled enough where people will see Ryan.

See his face with its ever changing features and Brendon had thought that there were days where Ryan looked maybe a little more feminine then usual.

He'd thought makeup.

He hadn't thought mutant.

******************************************************************************

Spencer is trailing behind them. Worried. Brent is trailing behind him pissed off because he had to leave the club and a prospective hookup.

Brendon is trying not to think 'Mutant' and 'Freak' and other things that he is sure would get him slapped with a harassment suit.

Ryan is his friend, one of his best and Brendon is trying really hard not to think about any other powers that Ryan might have hid from them.

Jon gets them into Ryan's room, sits him on the bed and Spencer gets a good look at his face and gasps, hand coming up to his mouth.

Brent takes a step back and runs into the door that Brendon had just closed.

"What can we do for you Ryan?" Jon asks softly, Ryan doesn't say anything, just covers his face with his hands and then runs for the bathroom.

The door slams shut behind him and seconds later they hear retching and then a horrible keening sound.

"His friends, that John guy…" Spencer says at the same time as Brendon says, "John whosits…"

"Do you have a number?" Jon asks. Spencer shakes his head helplessly and stares at the door. They hear the lock being thrown and Brendon thinks that Ryan might have been better off just hitting Spencer.

"His phone," Brendon starts and he almost dives for Ryan's bag. Rifling through it doesn't turn up that fancy phone that he's seen Ryan using to talk to his old friends, so he dumps its contents on the floor and turns the bag inside out.

He finds it in a corner pocket and looks over at Spencer.

He takes a deep breath, he'll try all the programmed numbers on the phone until he gets someone that can help him.

Help them.

Ryan's contact list is a mess of numbers with no names attached, he disregards the ones that he knows, like his and Spencer's and Brent's and Pete's.

He snarls in frustration. Because Ryan is nothing if not secretive about his time away and his school friends and his phone is, apparently, the same way.

There's a series of phone numbers that have numbers and symbols for the contact information, he starts at the top of the list, presses the phone to his ear and waits.

******************************************************************************

They are told to wait; a calm young woman on the other end of the phone had coached Brendon through some deep breathing exercises and told him that help was on the way.

"Don't panic," she'd kept saying over and over again. "Don't panic, help is coming to you."

He would think it was funny, because that's who they are. Panic! At The Disco. But nothing is even remotely amusing at the moment.

And he hadn't even been panicking, until she'd kept telling him not to.

He reminds himself that help is coming, but the phone turning off and the knock on the door still surprise him. Ryan hasn't come out of the bathroom and the keening noise hasn't stopped though it's fainter now.

His hand falls to his side, phone still clenched tight in his fingers and he hopes that the keening growing fainter is just Ryan getting tired and not because Ryan's dying in the bathroom.

Spencer is sitting at the bathroom door, back pressed against it, he's glaring at Brent who looks about two seconds away from freaking out and screaming 'Mutie' at the top of his lungs. Brendon is pacing the room; Jon is sitting on the bed watching him.

Brendon flies for the door when the knock comes, then backs away when he sees a thing with bright blue fur in leather standing in front of him. Behind him and off to the right are Scott and the other guy that had come into their practice space back when they were still just figuring out how to be a band.

They're in leather as well and Brendon wonders idly if the school Ryan had gone to had had a leather dress code instead of a suit and tie.

A young black woman, short white hair is pushing past the bright blue guy and right behind her is a guy about their age, short curly blond hair and he has the kindest blue eyes Brendon thinks he's ever seen.

He stops dead in the center of the room when he hears the keening noise.

It sounds horrible, but Brendon has wished, more then once in the last forever (45 minutes) for ear plugs to drown it out.

"Hank," the kid with the kind eyes says, he turns and the bright blue guy (Hank) heads towards the bathroom, Spencer comes to his feet and stands right there in front of the door, like Hank couldn't just toss him out of the way if he so chose.

"Spencer," Jon is there suddenly, tugging on Spencer's arm. "Spencer, let them help him," he says. Brendon would agree but his mouth won't work and he seems to have grown roots because he can't move at all, and the room seems really small with all these people in it.

Spencer lets Jon move him out of the way.

"He's got the door locked from the inside," Spencer says, he crosses his arm over his chest and looks defiantly at these newcomers. They only know the two because they'd come to see Ryan and they can all vividly remember Ryan leaving hunched over and sad when they'd finished talking.

Though the one had also come to Maryland and Ryan had seemed okay then.

"Ryan?" Hank calls out; he taps twice on the door. "Ryan, it's Doctor McCoy, can you open the door for me?"

Spencer snorts, like they hadn't already tried that. When that hadn't worked they'd tried to pick it.

He frowns when they hear the click of the lock being disengaged.

Hank disappears into the bathroom, door shutting behind him.

The keening stops and Brendon would feel relief, but all he wonders is if this is going to be the thing that ends up taking Ryan away from them.

"Do you know what happened?" Scott asks.

"Nothing happened, we were at a club and he wasn't even drinking anything, just water and then all of a sudden," Brendon's hands fly up to his face. "His face was…" Brendon gestures erratically like he can make them understand without telling them about Ryan's face changing and changing and changing.

"He seemed to know something was wrong," Jon offers.

Brendon remembers the tight clench of Ryan's hand around his arm, his frantic, fearful eyes.

"He was drinking from the same bottle of water all night," he says again, helplessly. Like that will make this make any more or less sense.

"It's okay," the black woman comes forward, touches Brendon's arm gently. "My name is Ororo, I was one of Ryan's teachers. You've met Scott and Logan, Hank is our doctor and this is Bobby, he was one of Ryan's classmates."

Brendon's eyes fly to the young blond man, he doesn't need to be told that this is Ryan's Bobby, one of the few people that Ryan had kept in steady contact with upon his return to Vegas, until that John kid had turned up in Vegas and Ryan had pretty much shut down almost all communication with his old friends.

Bobby is ignoring him, all of them. He's staring at the door like if he tries hard enough he can see through it… and he might be able to, Brendon realizes.

They don't know what abilities these people have.

******************************************************************************

Hank comes out of the bathroom with Ryan in his arms looking small and helpless, his face is turned into Hank's shoulder and Hank is holding him as if he's something priceless.

"I'll need to run some tests," Hank says to Scott, Bobby walks up to them, he touches Ryan's hand. Ryan's face doesn't turn away from Hank's shoulder but his hand clenches tight around Bobby's before he releases it.

"You're not just taking him," Spencer states. "I'm coming with him." He has his arms crossed over his chest and a look at his face that dares one of them to argue with him.

"Me too," Brendon says, nods. They let Ryan leave with these guys there's no guarantee that they'll ever get him back.

Jon is nodding in agreement even as Brent is shaking his head.

"I'd really rather stay here," Brent says. Brendon looks over at him and he still looks freaked out, but he also looks like he's made some major decision.

Brendon doesn't like that look.

******************************************************************************

They have a plane parked on the playground out behind their hotel, a big black plane that Scott and Ororo fly and Brendon is trying not to freak out too much because it's really not doing Ryan any good.

Not that Ryan is paying any attention to them in the slightest; Brendon doesn't think he even realizes that they're there. Hank had strapped him into a seat and he'd done his best to curl up facing away from them with the seatbelts not helping him accomplish that.

He doesn't want them to see him, Brendon understands that. He'd probably feel the same if he were in Ryan's position.

Instead he feels fear because Ryan is scared and there isn't much that can scare Ryan.

There'd been a minor skirmish between Bobby and Spencer over who was going to sit in the seat next to him that Bobby had won simply because he sat himself in the seat, strapped himself in and ignored Spencer until Spencer had no choice but to sit down or be on the roof when they took off.

Spencer is scowling at the back of his head.

Brendon would be as well, but Ryan is ignoring Bobby just as much as he's ignoring them.

They land and when they walk out they're in some darkened hangar, there's a man in a wheelchair waiting for them and he follows Hank and Ryan one direction while the others propel Brendon, Spencer and Jon in another.

Brendon thinks they would object but they're tired and they don't know where they are and even if they can trust these people.

Ryan had left them after all, had come back to Vegas and even after Scott and Logan had come to see him, after talking with Bobby and his friends on the phone for months, after John had actually come to him… he hadn't left and gone back to them.

This was probably not the smartest thing they've ever done, but it was better then letting them take Ryan off by himself and then having to explain to Pete why Ryan had disappeared.

They walk out into a brightly lit hallway and there's a group of kids waiting. All the same age as Bobby, John is one of them and he doesn't say anything. Just looks at Bobby and Bobby shakes his head.

"Hank took him to the infirmary, we'll know more when he's run some tests," Scott is saying patiently.

There's a young woman beside Bobby, white streaks in her hair and Brendon only notices her because of the way that John is trying to kill her with his eyes.

Bobby's ignoring her attempts to get his attention, instead he says, "I'm going to go change," and walks away.

John smirks and the young woman glares at him with narrowed eyes before stomping away.

"Let's show you where you can put your bags down and get some rest," Ororo appears right in front of him. Brendon tries not to jump.

"Rest," Spencer snorts. Brendon agrees. Because he doesn't think that any of them are going to get rest until they get to see Ryan.

******************************************************************************

The beds are comfortable but Brendon doesn't sleep at all, he tosses and turns and listens to Spencer do the same thing in the other bed. Jon had managed to sleep and Brendon thinks that he'd like to be Jon when he grows up, nothing really fazes Jon.

There's a knock at the door in the morning, sunlight spilling through the windows and they've all showered and changed clothes and are just sitting on the beds not saying anything because there's nothing to say.

Bobby's head peaks through the door and he still has kind eyes so Brendon tries not to hate him too much because he's Ryan's Bobby.

"Good you're up," he sounds pleased and his grin is warm and pleasant.

The three of them exchange looks.

"We're eating breakfast and then Hank is letting Ryan have visitors," he continues, he sounds cheerful and Brendon wonders if he's already been allowed in to see Ryan.

Because that just isn't fair.

Food, then Ryan, then they can leave.

Spencer is the first one off his bed, Brendon right behind him and Jon bringing up the rear.

Brendon wants to say that they can forget about the food, that they just want to see for themselves that Ryan is okay, but he's kind of hungry and breakfast is supposed to be the most important meal of the day.

Besides they wouldn't be allowing them to see Ryan if there was something seriously wrong.

"Did they find out what's wrong with him?" Spencer asks and Bobby nods, leading them through the maze of hallways and they would have gotten so lost if they'd tried to navigate their own way without help.

"Some sort of drug in his water Hank thinks, he's still working on pinpointing the exact one but he thinks he's managed to neutralize the affect it's having on Ryan."

"He's okay then?" Jon asks from behind them.

"He will be, he was sleeping this morning, Hank says he's still having some trouble keeping his features stable, but once whatever he got drugged with is totally out of his system he should be okay."

Brendon breathes a sigh of relief; next to him Spencer is doing the same thing.

Bobby leads them into a large room, partially empty and right up to the table that John is sitting at with two other guys that he recognizes from the group waiting for them last night. The young woman that had been trying to talk to Bobby the night before is sitting at the next table over dragging her fork through her food.

"You can just get food from the buffet if you want," Bobby offers and sits down across from John. There are enough chairs for the three of them and when they return from picking through what's left they claim them.

Bobby makes the introductions, still friendly and pleasant.

"You've met John already I believe. This is Peter and Sam; Peter, Sam these are friends of Ryan's."

Brendon nods at them and Spencer tones down his glare at being forced to wait to see Ryan to just below killing levels and Jon is cordial and pleasant even as he bites into his toast.

"You didn't know Ryan was a mutant," John says, he's not smirking, so Brendon only wants to punch him a little bit.

"No, we didn't," Jon says, because Spencer's bitch face is starting to blossom and if he's allowed to open his mouth he'll say something cutting and they'll end up getting tossed across the fence before they're even allowed to see Ryan.

"Katya said that you were panicked on the phone," Peter says, John winces ever so slightly, if Brendon hadn't trained himself to pick up the slightest changes in Ryan's facial expressions he probably wouldn't have noticed it.

Peter probably kicked him or hit him or something, or maybe Bobby sitting right across from him did, because he looks slightly satisfied.

"Well he was throwing up in the bathroom and making this god awful noise, we thought he was dying," Brendon says, he knows he sounds defensive. He doesn't care.

These people aren't going to judge how well they know Ryan or how much they care about him.

"That keening noise?" Bobby asks, he frowns and looks like he's remembering what it had sounded like when they'd shown up to help.

"It was worse before, when we first got him back to the hotel. It was… just…" Brendon doesn't even have the words to describe how horrifying the sound had been.

"I want to see Ryan now," Spencer announces. He drops his fork and Brendon glances at his plate, he hasn't even taken a bite of his food.

Bobby looks over at him and they have a battle of the wills through eye contact only, one which Spencer evidently wins this time because Bobby pushes back from the table.

"Okay."

******************************************************************************

Ryan is sleeping when they get through the next maze to get to him. They can see him through the clear glass and he looks good, relaxed. Except if Brendon focuses on him he can see the muscles in his face shifting, which just can't be good.

"I thought you said he was better," he says, he knows he sounds accusatory.

"He is, he's not throwing up anymore," Hank offers.

"His face is still…" Brendon gestures at his own.

"He's a shape shifter," Hank says. "There was a muscle relaxer mixed in with whatever he was doused with and his body is having a difficult time breaking it down. Until it works its way through his system the muscles that he normally has superb control over are not under his total control. It's very frustrating for him so you'll maybe not want to mention it."

Spencer nods. "Can we see him now?"

"Of course," Hank waves them through the door and Brendon wants to glare because Bobby and John are following them.

But he can't, because they're being allowed to see Ryan and when this is done and he's okay again he'll leave with them because he's cut most of his ties with the friends that he had at this place.

They're going to win in the long run; so he thinks he can be okay with having Bobby and John with them as long as he knows that.

Ryan's eyes barely open when they walk in, he's curled around himself on the bed and Brendon reminds himself that they've won when John sits on the edge of the bed and lets his hand rest on Ryan's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Ryan says softly, he's staring at Spencer and his eyes are wet and sad and fearful. Spencer pulls a chair over and sits down next to the bed, takes Ryan's hands between his and presses his forehead against them.

"You should have told me," Spencer says. His shoulders are shaking and Jon perches on the arm of the chair and puts a hand against Spencer's back. "You should have told us Ryan, because we were so scared and we didn't know how to help you."

"I didn't want you to know," "Ryan mumbles. "I didn't want you to be scared of me."

"Scared of you?" Brendon laughs, he has to force himself to make it light and amused. It's harder then it should be. "It actually makes things make a little more sense."

Ryan looks up at him, surprised etched into the minutely changing features of his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Ryan, from what we've seen you can make yourself look like a girl, that's not a particularly scary power… so unless you can make yourself look like, you know, Voldemort or something and come up with a wand and do like magic or something…"

"Brendon…"

"Besides… at least now that we know we can stop waiting for the day where you come and admit that you've had a sex change without telling us and instead we'll just remind you, you know subtle like," Brendon ignores the snort from Spencer and the muffled laugh from Jon, because he can do subtle, he can. "You know that maybe some stubble and a little less eye makeup wouldn't go totally amiss because Panic! At The Disco is comprised of four members and everyone thinks that they're boys so…"

Ryan's lips curl a little bit; he looks less like he might burst into tears at any second because they're going to cast him out and more like he might burst into hysterical laughter instead.

John is rubbing his back, smirk in place. Bobby's smiling a full on smile and Brendon can see Spencer's shoulders shaking, when he looks up at Brendon he's laughing.

Jon is leaning back and Brendon can't figure out how he's not falling off the chair.

"I've got to stay for a few days, Hank is running a whole battery of tests," Ryan says, Spencer squeezes his hands, smiles gently.

"Well then we'll just wait with you."

Ryan smiles softly.

******************************************************************************

FIC: SPN/SG1/SGA - Journey's End 3 - Dean/Daniel, Dean/Ronon, Dean/Daniel/Ronon - PG13

2007-10-13T15:01:43Z

The third story in my Supernatural/SG-1/SGA crossover, though you only need to read this one first in order to understand what's going on: Journey's End 1.

TITLE: Journey's End
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Sam brings Dean home, but he can't make him stay
RATING: PG-13
PAIRINGS: Dean/Daniel, Dean/Ronon, hinted at Dean/Ronon/Daniel.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I'm only playing.
FEEDBACK: Always welcome.

Journey's End 3

It takes 14 years for Dean to finally come home to them, and then it takes 3 days after Dean comes home for Dean and Dad to almost come to blows.

Luckily Dean doesn't react the way that Sam or Dad expect him to. Dad flinches, he knows he's in the wrong, knows that Dean is defensive of the decision that he made 14 years prior that led to him leaving them.

Before he might have taken a swing, seen Dad as a threat. Now he takes a walk, or a run if the way he comes back dripping sweat is any indication.

When Sam says something, he just shrugs and says that he's working on his impulse control. Sam tells dad to back off, but dad can't help but pick at those wounds.

He wants to understand why his oldest son had made the decision to walk away. He doesn't know, doesn't understand why his oldest boy thought he didn't love him.

He loves his boys equally, Sam knows this. Dad knows this.

Dean doesn't know this, doesn't see this and neither of them know of any way to show him that fact.

Dean is supposed to be with them for 2 weeks, a forced vacation. He knows this because he overheard that Colonel Sheppard telling Dean that before they got on the Daedelus to come home. He remembers Dean sputtering when Colonel Sheppard told him that he would not be allowed back on the Daedelus until the end of those 14 days.

Sam had thought 14 days wasn't nearly long enough to try and reconnect with his big brother. To re-establish the missing bond that he'd once had with Dean.

Now he wonders if 14 days is possibly too much time.

Either Dad or Dean could be dead, slain by the hand of the other in less time then that.

It is a far cry from the excitement, the exhilaration that he'd felt when they first got the letter years before.

******************************************************************************

"What's that?" Sam asked. Dad had been staring at the same sheet of paper since he'd walked in the door.

"Your brother," John said simply. Still staring at the letter.

Sam didn't understand, not until his Dad started reading it to him.

Dean was in the military, in the Air Force. Sam hadn't thought he'd see the day where Dean would answer to commands issued from other people besides Dad.

His brother was part of that Stargate project that had been making the news since it was de-classified. Sam could feel the excitement rising up within him, they knew where Dean was, where he had most likely been.

Ironically they'd been to Nevada, three different hunters had sighted Dean there, Sam and dad had checked out each one and each time had come up empty handed.

The motels had no one staying with them that looked like Dean; they visited each bar and the bartenders took their money but had told them they'd never seen Dean. Not ever.

And since Dean had never understood the concept of keeping a low profile Sam and dad had gone away empty handed. They should have dug deeper, but with Dean not in any of the places that he would typically have been found they'd called each trip there a bust and returned home.

They waited for Dean to contact them, they knew where he was, Dean had to know that they now knew. So they waited and there was no contact, no letter explaining why he'd left, no data burst telling them that he was okay.

There was nothing but the realization that Dean wasn't coming home. That in order to bring him home one of them would probably have to go get him.

They started working on that almost immediately.

******************************************************************************

Sam remembers days, weeks bordering on months spent in Nevada trying to convince people to help them get in touch with Dean. When General O'Neill arrived at the door of their hotel room they were only slightly surprised.

They had been making an incredible nuisance of themselves.

******************************************************************************

The General had just looked them over, smiled a wide smile.

And introduced them to the man that he'd brought with him. Dr. Daniel Jackson studied them as if they were bugs, no wide smile. Just pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

"What do you want with Dean Winchester?" he'd asked in a tone that led Sam to believe that these men had no idea who they were. Had no clue that Dean was his brother and their family.

"Dean is my brother," Sam had said simply. His dad had simply stood there, back ramrod straight and it had dawned on Sam then that his dad was a former military man and Jack O'Neill was a General in the US Military.

Air Force yes and he'd muttered and grumbled about Dean choosing the Air Force over the Marines, but still the military.

"Brother?" Dr. Jackson had glanced over at General O'Neill. "Dean's never mentioned any family before."

"You know my brother?" Sam asked eagerly. Dean having never mentioned them stung a little, but the fact that Dr. Jackson's tone indicated that this was knowledge that Dean should, would have shared with him took priority.

"Jack brought him into the program as my bodyguard," Dr. Jackson said with amusement. General O'Neill looked startled for only a second, then sheepish.

"Knew about that did you."

"Well he knows 4 languages, more now of course," Dr. Jackson added, probably for their benefit. Sam glanced over at dad to see if he looked as stunned as Sam felt. He'd known that Dean wasn't stupid, but the fact that he knew languages. That he'd probably gone out of his way to learn languages was not something that Sam would have foreseen.

Dean had hated learning the Latin that dad had forced them to learn.

"Originally he was brought on to help me with translations; it took a while to figure out that he was really a bodyguard that just happened to have an affinity for languages. That as long as he had a starting point he could learn them fairly simply," Dr. Jackson smiled slightly. "He probably figured it out long before I did."

"About six months in," General O'Neill supplied helpfully. The expression that Dr. Jackson shot him indicated that he thought it not so helpful. "He thought someone should tell you, I told him that when you figured it out was soon enough."

"Told him?"

"Ordered him."

"So you do know my brother then?"

"Yes, I thought that was fairly obvious," Dr. Jackson eyed him as if he thought him not intelligent at all. Sam had always been smarter then Dean so that was kind of annoying.

"When can we see him?" his Dad asked. Cutting right to the chase, getting to the point of what he hoped was the reason that the General and Dr. Jackson were at their hotel room.

"See that's kind of the problem," the General scratched his head and shot a look at Dr. Jackson.

"When the project was de-classified there was mention made of an outpost on Atlantis," Dr. Jackson started, pushing his glasses further up on his nose.

And that was how Sam and John had learned that while they may have found Dean, getting to him was going to be a bit harder then just hopping on a plane.

******************************************************************************

Dean starts running first thing in the morning. Sam thinks that the miles his brother's running is the distance he's trying to get away from them, he tries not to think that this might be Dean's one and only visit home.

Dad doesn't know how to bridge the gulf between them, doesn't know how to show Dean that he loves him without it denigrating into an order that Dean won't follow any longer.

In the morning, after breakfast which he thanks Jessica for profusely every single time, he pulls papers out of his bag and spreads them out on the dining room table.

Sam and John both have seen the papers, neither can make head or tail of them. They can tell when Dean gets frustrated at something he can't decipher because he'll take Michael out into the back yard and work off some of his annoyance.

He's gentle with his nephew, and Michael looks up at him with wide, worshipful eyes while Dean treats him as if he's a prized possession. Sam can remember looking at his older brother like that once and wishes that Dean still looked at him as if he was a prized possession.

He thinks that being jealous of his son's relationship with his brother is insane and tells Jessica that it might be time to get himself committed.

Jessica calls him an idiot and tells him that he and Dad need to fix things with Dean before he leaves. Sam wonders if Jess feels the same thing that he does.

That if they don't fix things Dean might never return to them again.

It might be taken out of their hands sooner then Sam thinks because on Dean's seventh day home Dr. Jackson appears on their doorstep.

"Dean's not here," Sam says, he wants to tell Dr. Jackson to go away, because he's not ready to give his brother back over to these people.

Dr. Jackson smiles at him, "I'll wait for him then, he called me about a translation he was having problems with."

Jess pushes him aside and allows Dr. Jackson into their home, Sam tries not to feel betrayed at that movement. Dad appears in the doorway to the kitchen, hand resting on Michael's shoulder as they all stand there staring at each other.

"Well this is awkward," Dr. Jackson murmurs.

Dean shows up then, he'd been off for his morning five mile jog. Sam had gone with him once and wanted to die at about the two mile mark. He's horribly out of shape compared to Dean at the moment but he thinks that he at least made it further then Dr. Jackson would have.

Dean grins at Dr. Jackson, a wide happy smile that Sam hasn't seen but a handful of times since they brought Dean home. A smile which Dr. Jackson returns.

"Daniel," Dean makes a move as if to hug the other man and Dr. Jackson raises his arms as if to ward him off. Dean smirks at him and Sam realizes that each move had been expected, an air of ritual to it. Dean had moved to hug him and Dr. Jackson had warded him off and they trade private smiles.

They know each very well and Sam thinks that Dr. Jackson wasn't the sort of person that Dean would have been friends with before.

"I didn't think you were coming in until tomorrow."

"Jack got me on an earlier flight, I think I was driving him a bit crazy."

Dean grins again. "I'll go shower and then I'll show you what I've been working on."

******************************************************************************

Dean and Dr. Jackson, call me Daniel and do I smell coffee, lean over the table, heads bent together and they work together so easily that it hurts something inside Sam.

He feels as if he's been replaced, there's an easy give and take in Dean's responses to Daniel. They don't even talk in full sentences, half sentences and sometimes a word, are all it takes for one to lead the other in their direction of thinking.

Dad hovers at the end of the table, Sam sits in one of the chairs. He's ostensibly brought out his own paperwork he should be working on, he has two cases that he's the primary on, and he's lost enough time going to Atlantis and bringing Dean home.

But the way Dean and Daniel work together keeps drawing his interest.

He has no idea what they're trying to decipher, thinks that sometimes they're not even talking about the translation that has been driving Dean insane since he began working on it days earlier.

He hears Daniel mention Ronon and his ears perk up, Ronon had been one of those people on Atlantis. Sam remembers seeing Dean talking to him, he'd thought they might have been arguing but when Dean's team and Colonel Sheppard's team had shown up to see Dean off they'd seemed all right.

He suddenly wonders if Daniel is here to help Dean with the translation or to bring him news of Atlantis.

******************************************************************************

Daniel stays with them; Dean gives up his room and sleeps on the couch.

"I've slept in worse places." Dean won't elaborate. And no matter how they push Daniel won't either.

They work on translations for two days, and it takes that long for Sam to realize that Daniel is something other then a friend to Dean.

It takes hearing voices in the room that had been set aside as Dean's years before and Sam peeking in to find out what is going on.

He doesn't expect to see Daniel kissing his big brother, doesn't expect to see Dean kissing him back, hands tight on Daniel's hips.

Sam walks away and thinks that maybe his brain has leaked out his ears between the door to Dean's room and his bedroom, because nothing makes sense.

Daniel has been here for days and Sam has never thought that maybe the reason he stays, the reason that he plays the role of buffer between Dean and Dad and Sam is because he has a vested interest in the outcome of this visit.

It takes him another day to approach Daniel, and it's not because he doesn't know what to say (why are you kissing my brother? Why are you here? Why are you taking him away from us?) but because Dean doesn't ever leave Daniel alone around them.

Except when Daniel leaves the table to get coffee, Sam has been waiting, watching the coffee in the cup drop further and further and he knows that he'll have the opportunity to corner Daniel if he times it just right.

Daniel has been waiting for the same thing it seems. Because when Sam walks into the kitchen he smiles at him.

"Dean has never really gotten over the whole bodyguard thing."

******************************************************************************

Dean is not at all amused about the turn of events that have Sam and Daniel talking. Sam knows this because he hears Dean tell Daniel so.

Daniel laughs at him.

"They're your family, Dean," Daniel says. Sam is unashamedly eavesdropping.

"On four worlds they're your in-laws," Dean mutters. Daniel laughs again.

"And on two more they're Ronon's."

"You're sure he's okay?" Dean sounds worried and Sam knows that besides helping Dean with translations that Daniel has been bringing Dean updates from home.

"They're superficial wounds, he'll be fine. By the time you get back he'll be on his feet again and complaining because Colonel Sheppard has grounded him for the interim."

Dean hums at that.

"Dean…" Daniel sighs, a long suffering, 'you're being a jackass sigh' that Sam recognizes as such because it's the same one that Jess sighs when she thinks Sam is being a moron.

He thinks that Daniel and Dean must have been together for a very long time and doesn't understand how Ronon fits into all this.

Do they share him? When Dean's on Earth he's Daniel's, when he's on Atlantis he's Ronon's? He wonders what happens during those times when Ronon is on Earth or Daniel is on Atlantis.

Then decides that he doesn't want to know, he already has way more information about Dean's love life then he really wants and much more then Dean wants him to have.

The door flies open and Dean is staring at him, Daniel shaking his head and staring at the floor.

"Are you eavesdropping?" Dean demands.

"No?" Sam shakes his head, though he doesn't sound convinced and Dean doesn't believe him from the skepticism on his face.

"Look you don't talk to us, you're my brother. My big brother, I just want to know that you're okay, I just want to… I want to know you, like a brother is supposed to," Sam says in a rush of air. Dean looks at him then over his shoulder at Daniel.

"Sammy…"

"I mean I don't even know who he is to you, is he a friend, a boyfriend, should I have been letting you sleep in the same room and finding a way to break it to dad in some way that won't make him have a heart attack."

"Daniel is my…" Dean looks over that other man, who appears to be nothing but supportive with a mild touch of 'I wish I was anywhere but here'.

"I'm his… well I guess we're kind of like lovers, sometimes."

"Sometimes? I don't…"

"I'm not on Earth all that often Sammy, Daniel's got responsibilities here that he can't just abandon to come be my kept man on Atlantis."

"Besides the fact that I would get bored and since you're running the linguistics team with an iron fist I don't want to impose."

"An iron fist? I let them have holidays off, the first two years I worked with you I didn't even get Christmas off."

"That wasn't my fault," Daniel shakes his head, Dean smirks at him.

"Ronon?" Sam asks, because he has a feeling if he lets them that they'll go off on a tangent and he doesn't think he can ask these questions again.

"Ronon is my…"

"Ronon is his partner," Daniel says firmly.

"Daniel…"

"He is Dean, he shares you with me when I'm on Atlantis but 362 days of the year you are his, it's not fair to slight him like that because you think that I'll get upset."

"I was yours first," Dean says softly, Sam pretends not to hear and looks at the floor, trying to give them some semblance of privacy without leaving the room. He still manages to see Daniel move up beside him, place his hand low on Dean's back and lean into him.

"Got what you need Sammy?" Dean asks, Sam coughs and nods and continues looking at the floor.

"You can, you know…" he coughs again. "Share the room, or… whatever."

"Sam it's okay."

"I'm just gonna…" Sam gestures at the door.

"Go before you stroke out, I know CPR man, but I'm not performing it on you," when Sam looks up he can see the smirk on Dean's face, Daniel is standing next to him, hand still on his back.

Sam thinks they look right together and he wonders if were to see Dean and Ronon together like this if they would look just as right.

"Right," Sam backs away, and closes the door behind him.

"You didn't tell him that when I'm on Atlantis it's more Ronon and I sharing you between the two of us, then Ronon giving over his time to me," he can still hear Daniel say with amusement.

"Did you see his face; I didn't want to have to call 911. My dad would never forgive me if I killed Sammy off."

******************************************************************************

Dean has two days left; and now that Sam knows about him and Daniel he makes no effort to hide his relationship with the other man.

He even kisses Daniel lightly when dad is in the room and he wonders if he was the last one to actually know about them.

Daniel leaves on Dean's last morning with them, a tight hug in the foyer and 'I'll see you at the SGC,' before he waves at them and departs.

Dean looks a little lost at being alone with them.

They have twelve hours before they have to drive Dean to the airport and Sam had thought to have a quiet day just the five of them at home.

Instead Dean has a list of things he needs to take back with him so they go shopping and then out to lunch and then Dean helps Jess do the four loads of laundry that he has and before he knows it their time has run out.

Dean puts his uniform back on, puts his bags in the trunk and he hugs Jessica and Michael, he speaks in low tones to dad and then hugs him too. Dad holding him tightly, eyes closed and Sam looks away.

He'd said that he would bring Dean home, and he had. He hadn't been able to say that he would be able to keep Dean there and he feels like he's failed dad by having to take Dean back to the airport and send him back to his life without them.

When they're in the car Dean looks over at him, hat in his lap.

"You'll let me know how things are going?"

Sam nods, there's a knot in his throat that he can't speak around and he thinks if he tries to, he might end up attempting to beg Dean to stay.

And he can't, Sam knows this.

He has a life, that is far away from the one that they would have, should have lived and it's filled with people and friends and family that aren't him and dad and Jessica and Michael.

He's not going in to the airport with him, he can't and they sit outside the terminal for long seconds before Dean starts shifting and Sam decides that if he's going to say something, anything it needs to be now.

"You could, you know, send pictures… Jess, she does, has these family photo albums that she puts pictures and stuff in… We don't have any of you," the last picture that is of Dean is when he was eighteen, he's scowling and his eyes are unhappy. Sam thinks that whatever pictures Dean deigns to send them he'll definitely not be scowling and his eyes won't be unhappy and he might actually be smiling.

"Okay… take care of the family, Sam," Dean says softly.

"Always do."

******************************************************************************

Six weeks after Dean leaves a packet shows up. Jessica is at work, Michael at school, John is volunteering with a local Youth organization. Sam is the only one home and he signs for the packet, the young man in uniform, who can't be more the fourteen nods and thanks him.

There are pictures inside.

Pictures of Dean with his team and his team and him with Colonel Sheppard's team. Pictures of what looks to be a birthday party for Dean, since he's the one blowing the candles out on the cake.

He gives them all to Jess and she puts them in the spaces reserved for Dean and his life and his family in their albums.

There are two pictures, one each of Dean and Daniel and Dean and Ronon, on the back of them, in Dean's scrawl he's written 'me and the mr' and Sam laughs to himself because he can hear Dean being sarcastic even with written words.

The last picture he keeps to himself, he puts it in a nice frame and displays it on his desk at work.

Dean looks happiest in that picture, Daniel and Ronon on either side of him, both leaning into him, like he's the sun and they're trying to get closer to warm themselves.

They're all smiling and happy and they look right.

******************************************************************************

FIC: P!ATD - A Life Alone - Part 3 - Ryan/Pete, Spencer/Brendon - PG

2007-10-04T20:11:53Z

So the Ryan/Pete is becoming less subtext and more one of the actual pairings for this story. I'm not sure how that happened; Ryan/Brendon is my OTP for Bandslash.

You should read part 1 and part 2 first, or you might be confused as to why Ryan Ross thinks 1+2+1=breakup.

Summary: Dinner with Jon and Cassie is just him and Pete, Ryan is kind of surprised. He'd thought they would bombard him with 'group' time until he was ready to scream.

TITLE: A Life Alone
RATING: PG (for language)
PAIRING: Ryan POV / Ryan/Pete subtext, Spencer/Brendon in the background
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Ryan thinks that when its time for their 'Behind The Music' that Panic! At The Disco could be summed as such… Four came, four sang, four laughed, three made the decision to 'take a break'.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these boys and I'm pretty sure that this has never happened and will never happen quite like this.

A Life Alone - Part 3

Dinner with Jon and Cassie is just him and Pete, Ryan is kind of surprised. He'd thought they would bombard him with 'group' time until he was ready to scream.

Or beg Pete to be allowed to go home.

The others don't know where his cottage is, not yet. Not unless Pete has sold him out, which Ryan doesn't think he has. He is still maintaining the thought that Pete likes being the only one knowing where Ryan goes when he's not with them.

Pete tries to attack him with eyeliner before they leave; Ryan manages to evade him long enough that they'll be late if they dawdle any longer.

He doesn't want to know what Jon will think if they're late, the guys already think that Pete is attempting to lure him back into his bed. Of course Ryan is leaning toward that as well, he thinks that maybe it says something that Ryan isn't already there, like maybe Ryan has grown up a little bit, that maybe he knows something about his self-worth that his eighteen year-old self hadn't.

Cassie answers the door when he knocks, Pete is standing very close behind him, his hand is low on Ryan's back, any lower and he would be groping him on Jon and Cassie's porch.

"Ryan," Cassie sounds happy to see him, relieved. She pulls him away from Pete's wandering hands and into a tight hug.

He doesn't think they've ever been close enough where a hug is a suitable greeting, though he returns it awkwardly.

Behind her shoulder he can see Jon rolling his eyes.

"She's just relieved that she doesn't have to figure out someone who could be the third best man or decide which of her bridesmaids can be cut," he says, Ryan smirks, quickly wiping it from his face when Cassie releases him to whirl on Jon.

"Or it could be that I was actually worried about him Jonathan, and am relieved to see him whole and in one piece," she snaps, it's good humored, not angry. Ryan shifts on his feet and Pete steps up next to him. Shutting the door behind him.

"I don't get a hug?" Pete asks, his hand is back on Ryan's back, he thinks it might actually be lower then it was when Ryan had knocked on the door.

"The least you could have done was take one of them with you," Cassie says, she's still glaring at Jon. "Do you know how difficult they were to deal with after you took off on your own and then didn't even tell them where you were going? Like little children all of you, fighting over the same toy."

Ryan tilts his head and squints at her. He thinks she's referring to him as a toy, or maybe a child… he's not really sure, but he thinks he might need to be offended on his behalf.

******************************************************************************

Dinner is calm, there are no raised voices, no shouting. Nobody telling Ryan that he's crazy.

Cassie sits him and Pete on opposite sides of the table when she realizes that Pete is about a hands span away from getting fresh with Ryan right in front of Jon.

"I wouldn't normally care," she confides when she has Ryan help bring in the casserole and bread. "Because it would be a great show to see you smack his hands or punch him, but I think Jon would also try to defend your honor and I really need him to not be bruised for the wedding pictures."

He wants to tell her that she has nothing to worry about, but he doesn't think he can say that with a straight face or that he even believes it anymore.

He might be proving Jon right and sleeping in the tub with a blanket and pillow once they get back to the hotel.

******************************************************************************

Patrick and rest of Fall Out Boy descend days later. After Ryan has resorted to wearing his headphones when he writes, because Pete doesn't like being ignored and if he thinks Ryan is just sitting there and not paying attention to him he goes out of his way to be as annoying as possible.

Ryan realizes they're in town when his stomach starts growling loud enough that he can hear it even with the headphones on, he's pulling them off and wondering why Pete didn't tap him on the shoulder to remind him to eat when he looks up and sees Patrick is sitting across from him.

Ryan blinks at him, and wonders how long he's been sitting there.

He looks not pissed off, not overly friendly, Ryan doesn't know Patrick well enough to read the nuances of his expressions, he looks around the room and doesn't see Pete or any of the others.

"Joe took Pete and Andy for coffee and food," Patrick says, Ryan wonders if he can read minds and really hopes not.

"Why didn't you just tap me on the shoulder or something?" Ryan asks. He would have known it wasn't Pete, Pete had been just pretty much climbing into his lap or sending Hemmy over to sit on his feet when he felt Ryan had wrote long enough.

"I didn't want to interrupt, you looked like you were pretty engrossed in what you were doing… what are you working on?"

Ryan looks down at the desk, rubs at a scuff mark and hopes its not from his laptop, he's going in half on the room with Pete whether he wants him to or not.

"I'm writing a book," he says quietly. Everyone knows, Pete had figured it out days prior when Spencer must have told him that Ryan wasn't working on any new songs when he sat for hours in front of the computer.

He doesn't look up because he doesn't want to see Patrick's skeptical look, the one that means that he can't pull this off and everyone knows it so why is he even bothering.

"I'm more then halfway done," he adds. And he is, he'd looked at the brief outline that he'd typed up when he'd first started writing, he's made some minor changes since then; a love interest for the main hero, a few friends that hadn't been there before.

"That's good," Patrick's voice is gentle, quiet and Ryan hazards a look up and sees Patrick looking at him with an expression that Ryan can't put a name to.

"Pete says that you're planning on going back to wherever he found you after the wedding?"

Ryan nods. "It was our agreement."

"Do Spencer and the others know that?" Patrick asks, he's slouching back in his chair now. Getting comfortable.

"I don't know what Pete told them," Ryan shrugs. He's trying, he really is. He had dinner with Spencer and Brendon and only had to leave the table twice when they were being overly couple-ish

He's had dinner with Jon and Cassie and he's ate alone with Pete, he and Pete have come to an agreement about the fact that there is only one bed and as long as Pete doesn't attempt to grope him while they're sleeping Ryan is okay with sharing that bed with Pete.

He doesn't admit it, not to himself, not to anyone out loud.

But he kind of likes waking up in the morning with Pete wrapped around him.

It's bittersweet though, and he's trying not to get used to this opportunity to touch one of the things that he's always wanted (Pete focused solely and completely on him, waking up in the morning with Pete still with him) because he knows that when he goes home it'll be gone again.

Pete will go grovel at Ashlee's feet and convince her to take him back or maybe its Jeanae's turn once more, he's not sure, he tries not to keep track of Pete's love life.

He just knows that it's not his, that Pete made that decision and he'll eventually remember why he made it and Ryan doesn't want his heart as damaged as it was back then.

******************************************************************************

Pete and the others return with food and Ryan tries not to feel like the odd man out with the entirety of Fall Out Boy sitting in a circle on the floor with him eating dinner.

He feels young, like a kid that's being allowed to eat at the grownup table, even if that table is a span of carpet in a hotel room.

Because while Pete is leering at him every so often, glaring defiantly at Patrick when he rests a hand on Ryan's knee… Patrick keeps reminding him to eat and Joe keeps putting food on his plate.

"When's your concert?" Ryan asks, when Andy takes a break from his attempt to convert Ryan to veganism. He'd tried, once, it wasn't really his thing.

"Tomorrow night," Patrick says.

"You'll come on stage with us," Pete announces.

"I will?" Ryan asks at the same time as Patrick's, "he will?"

"Well he's here, we're here. It's kismet, fate," Pete grins widely, Ryan narrows his eyes and doesn't trust it.

"You're afraid that I'm going to sneak off when you're on stage and either get my own room or go home."

"I'm not afraid of any such thing."

Patrick snorts and Joe snickers into his hand, Andy just rolls his eyes.

"I promised Jon that I would stay for the wedding," Ryan says. "I'm not going back on that now that I've been measured for the tux and everything. Do you know how painful an experience that was? I got stuck with pins four times and had to keep telling the guy who was fitting me that I didn't want rosettes on the cummerbund and that if he tried to put me in pink I was killing him."

"Jon thought it was all quite amusing," Pete nods. "Though he was disappointed that you vetoed the rosettes and wouldn't even contemplate lace."

******************************************************************************

The wedding is small, intimate and beautiful. It's exactly what Jon and Cassie wanted so Ryan is happy for them.

Jon entrusts Ryan with his camera for the day and he takes roll after roll of pictures when he isn't being tasked with various duties as one of Jon's three best men.

He only notices that Ashlee is there when she steps right in front of him and he almost runs into her, Jon and Cassie are being sweet up on the dais and he'd wanted to get a good picture of it.

He instead wraps his arms around the camera to protect it just in case Ashlee decides to get violent.

She's staring at him and he's fidgeting and wondering where the half a dozen people that he under normal circumstances can't get rid of have vanished off to.

"I don't know what your game is," she says finally, "but you've managed to fool them all into thinking you're some delicate flower that needs to be protected."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ryan says, because he doesn't. He thinks Ashlee might be insane, it's probably what drew Pete to her in the first place, Pete seems to like people that have a few screws loose.

He pointedly doesn't think about what that says about him.

He hopes she doesn't get violent and ruin Jon and Cassie's day, and then wonders why she's there in the first place if she and Pete have broken up.

She smiles at him, it's a thin and not nice smile, Ryan doesn't return it because he thinks that she might be contemplating ways to murder him and make it look like an accident.

She turns and walks away and Patrick appears at his shoulder right after she takes four steps.

"What's she doing here?" he wonders, Ryan shrugs.

"Contemplating murder?"

******************************************************************************

Ashlee doesn't approach him again, kept back by Patrick, who's hovering at Ryan's shoulder and glaring at her when she looks like she's going to walk up to him again.

She doesn't approach Pete either, he doesn't have anyone at his shoulder but Ryan doesn't think he needs to with the expression on his face whenever she looks like she's going to sidle up alongside him.

Ryan wonders again what exactly had been said (or shouted as the case may be) to cause this level of animosity between her and Pete and rest of the guys.

This isn't just because of him, it can't be.

There's something else going on here that he can't put his finger on, maybe because he doesn't have all the facts and no one will tell him what those facts are when he asks.

She stays on the far side of the room and she watches them and Ryan's not sure what she's hoping to accomplish by coming into what should be enemy territory for her.

"I sent her an invitation," Cassie appears at his elbow. "Back when she and Pete were still together."

"Has she even offered her congratulations to you and Jon yet?" Ryan asks, he's been watching and he doesn't think she's even once approached the newlyweds.

"I think she's too busy imagining ways to torture and destroy you," Jon says, his arms loops around Cassie's waist and Ryan doesn't look envious but only because he's really happy for them.

******************************************************************************

He goes back to the room alone; Pete had been talking to Patrick, heads bent close together.

His bags were packed that morning when Pete had been distracted by, what Ryan now assumes were phone calls warning of Ashlee's imminent arrival. All he has to do now is grab them and go.

It feels too easy.

He has his plane ticket booked already, accomplished during one of the few ten minutes spans where Pete left him alone, he probably paid much more then he should have but he doesn't care.

For days that overpriced plane ticket has been his symbol of freedom.

Of peace and quiet.

Jon has his address in his coat pocket, slipped in there by Ryan's hand when Jon had taken it off to go dance with Cassie, there's a note there asking for copies of the pictures, along with his address.

He's not trying to hide, doesn't want to feel as if he's afraid of his family.

His phone number is there as well and he hopes that they call and warn him when they get ready to descend upon him.

He leaves the keycard on the desk and takes a quick look around the room to make sure that he hasn't forgotten anything.

His laptop is over his shoulder and his bag is on the floor by the door where he'd left it, he feels like he's running away and he squashes that emotion.

He'd told them, that once the wedding was done, that he was going home.

Alone.

And he is.

******************************************************************************

He doesn't breathe again until he walks through his front door, he'd been so sure that someone would figure out what he was doing and that he'd be caught at the airport or in the lobby, or just caught before he could escape.

No one had, he thinks that he's been so concerned about someone stopping him from going home when he should have been more concerned about how he was getting there.

He's been traveling for hours, he probably should have played closer attention to the ticket itinerary, because instead of the straight shot that he'd had when he'd traveled with Pete, he'd had two layovers that had felt like forever.

He puts his bags down by the door and stretches.

"Jesus Ryan, did you take the most indirect route that you could find?" he hears and he doesn't jump. Just closes his eyes and leans against the door.

Pete appears in the doorway leading to the living room, he's in sleep pants and he isn't wearing a t-shirt, Hemmy appears by his bare feet after a second.

"Pete," he says with resignation. He guesses that it's better then Spencer and Brendon appearing suddenly.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, I thought you would have figured that out by now."

******************************************************************************

Pete had allowed him to shower and change, clean out his bag and start a load of laundry (Ryan pretends not to notice Pete tossing his whites in alongside his) before he'd pulled him down on the couch alongside him.

Right now he's holding him loosely, Ryan could move if he wanted to, instead he's letting his head rest on Pete's shoulder and dozing.

"I ordered a bed for the spare room," Pete says quietly, Ryan stiffens slightly at the presumption that Pete could make decisions as to what is going in rooms in his house.

"Brendon and Spencer will be here in a few days, they booked their tickets before you took off from the wedding reception, thus proving, that in this, I know you better then they do," Ryan tries to ignore the self-satisfaction, the glee in Pete's tone.

"Pete…" Ryan starts, he shifts and Pete's grip tightens.

"They just want to see, Ryan, to make sure that you're okay here," Pete says softly. "It's only for a few days."

"Are you leaving when they do?"

Pete sighs, breath puffing against his ear. "I'm not leaving until you kick me out."

"You have your own house," Ryan reminds him. "It's like four times the size of mine."

"And yet in your house, in your town, I was able to stop for coffee and not get mobbed by the teenies waiting alongside me for theirs. I like it here."

Ryan wonders if there was a town meeting held to tell everyone who he was and who might be coming through town in order to visit him.

He wonders if he should ask for a transcript from Mark to make sure that no one was missed and that a petition to force him out hasn't been started.

******************************************************************************

The bed is delivered two days later, Ryan has spent those two days figuring out where the stuff that remains in boxes in the spare room needs to go so that there is floor space in which to place the bed.

While he's busy in the spare bedroom organizing, Pete has been busy in the living room redecorating.

His desk has been moved in there, in front of the window overlooking his backyard.

He wonders why he didn't think of placing it there, it has perfect light and is sunny and cheerful.

It's also really distracting; he spends an hour one afternoon watching Pete watching Hemmy chase leaves across the yard instead of writing.

Pete sleeps with him in his bed at night, an arm tossed casually over his chest, leg laying over his. He's not pressing for anything, though he has started laying kisses along the back of Ryan's neck when he passes by him, which he does frequently.

Ryan decides this is Pete's way of acclimatizing Ryan to his presence once more, but he can't figure out why Pete is moving so slow and he wants to tell Pete that he doesn't need to acclimatize him.

Ryan had thought he knew all Pete's moves but these ones are unfamiliar and they feel old and clunky and a lot like old-fashioned courting…

It's nice, he writes a whole chapter one night (going horribly off outline for the second time since he started his story) about the man that is wooing the hero; an old lover that has suddenly descended once more in the hopes of regaining what they'd thought lost.

Ryan contemplates cutting it out, it feels nonsensical, but it also feels like a part of the whole journey the hero is taking, so he leaves it.

Ryan thinks that a year ago Pete would have already had Ryan naked and willing in his bed, lack of desire had never been their problem and still isn't.

Because he's woken up every morning since Pete first came to his little cottage feeling Pete pressed against his leg.

He just can't figure out why Pete hasn't done anything, before he would snap his fingers and blink, maybe wink and Ryan would be ready and willing.

Now it feels like he's waiting and Ryan can't figure out for what.

******************************************************************************

Brendon and Spencer arrive the day that Ryan finishes his book.

He's made amazing progress since he returned home; the words flowing from his fingers almost faster then he can type them.

When he types 'The End' and saves it for the last time it hurts a little. He's finished it and he's not sure what he'll do with all his time now that he's done.

For now, he closes the document, shuts his laptop down and stretches.

He can see Pete laying on his back in the yard, Hemmy is sprawled next to his legs and Ryan pushes back his chair and goes out to join them.

When he sits down, cross-legged, next to Pete he opens one eye and then raises his arm to glance at his watch.

"You still have like 45 minutes left," Pete says, he lets his arm fall over Ryan's legs and closes his eyes again.

"I'm finished," Ryan says, he picks a blade of grass and rolls it between his fingers.

Pete cracks an eye open again.

"Finished?"

"My book, it's finished," Ryan shrugs. Like it's nothing important that he finished his book, Pete wants to read it and maybe years and years into the future Ryan will let him.

"I want to read it," Pete says. They've had the same conversation for days, Ryan always says no. He thinks that maybe Pete is just saying what he thinks he should be, it's like he's read a self-help book on repairing broken relationships and Chapter 3 is express an interest in your partners hobbies.

"I don't…"

"I want to read it Ryan," Pete says, his voice is even and careful and his eyes are open and watching Ryan.

"It was just something that I was working on, it's not that good," Ryan says. It needs to be edited and proof read and whole chapters need to be revised, it's definitely not ready for anyone besides Ryan to read.

"You let me be the judge of that."

******************************************************************************

They're eating when Spencer and Brendon arrive, Hemmy is sitting under the table at Pete's feet waiting for the inevitable handout, Pete is a sucker when it comes to his dog.

Ryan has been kind of picking at his food, he's waiting for Pete to say something but he doesn't. Ryan has been expecting Brendon and Spencer all day, his nerves are slightly on end and when the knock finally comes he jumps and feels shocked when he realizes that they're here.

He looks around his little cottage and he sees how small it is, and wonders how Pete can stand to be here with him when he's got a veritable mansion waiting for him.

Pete squeezes his hand when he stands up to go let them in, he wants to get up, say 'this is my house, my door, let me do this', instead he sits there and lets Pete kiss his cheek when he passes by.

He hears their voices and he pushes his plate away and stands up, he turns just as Pete leads them into the kitchen.

Spencer looks tired and comes right to Ryan, arms pulling him into a tight hug, Brendon hangs back by the door but Ryan can tell that he wants to be there, when he looks over he lets his lips twist into a slight smile, it isn't totally forced and Brendon walks over to them.

Wraps his arms around both of them together and lays his forehead against Ryan's temple.

From the door Pete just watches, Ryan closes his eyes and lets them hold onto him.

******************************************************************************

FIC: DC - A Bat By Any Other Name (Is Still A Bat) - Gen - PG

2007-09-25T22:13:04Z

So way back when they solicited the Future!Titans in the present storyline I had grand ideas for what they were going to do, like *cough* fix Tim's cloning process *cough*. Obviously that's not the direction the story is going in so…

This story by itself is complete. There will be a few one shot short stories to follow.

Summary: Future Superman makes a different choice and things change.

TITLE: A Bat By Any Other Name (is still a Bat)
RATING: PG (for language)
PAIRING: Gen - with some Tim/Cassie, Conner/Tim/Cassie, Dick/Roy, Bruce/Clark hinted at
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Future Superman makes a different choice and things change.
DISCLAIMER: DC owns them, if I did things like Infinite Crisis wouldn't have happened.
FEEDBACK: Please?

A Bat By Any Other Name (is still a Bat)

He knew exactly where he was going.

Better yet, he knew that he wouldn't be interrupted; the others would keep their younger counterparts occupied. By the time they realized that the plans that they'd made had been modified without their knowledge it would be done.

He can't see his Tim doing this, going through the effort to reclone him. Logically he knows that he did, knows that he'd succeeded because he's around. But he can't see the Tim that looks at Cassie with longing and him with, sometimes, barely concealed hatred, doing this.

Succeeding at this.

He knows the passwords, he'd told the others that it would be easier if he was the one to do this, and since this was the way that it had all happened originally they have no reason to distrust him, so Tim had handed over the passwords to the computers that he didn't already have access to and he'd looked at his Pa's notes to figure out how to do what he needed.

They think that he's going down to Tim's hidden laboratory to fix the issues that this younger version of his Tim has been having in cloning their dead friend.

And he's going to do that, but this Kon won't remain here. He'll fix the problems, yes, but he won't advance his aging until he's the perfect double for their dead Kon, for their lost colleague.

This clone will remain an infant; he'll be allowed to be the child that he (and the dead one) had never been allowed to be.

He's found the perfect place to hide him, the perfect time to hide him in.

Not even Superman will be looking for him and he knows that Kal-El is, at the moment, consumed by finding the mysterious 3rd Kryptonian on Earth.

The others will figure out that he's not following their plan, even now Tim and Cassie are watching the clock waiting for the exact moment, (that moment in their timeline, not this one, not any longer) that he and the young clone of Kon-El, Kal-El and Lex Luthor will appear in the doorway.

That's who this child is, no longer just the clone of Kal-El and Lex, but now the clone of all three.

The infant is floating in the tank, this Tim has been distracted by Cassie, he hasn't noticed the warning signs of cellular degradation yet.

It takes a few seconds to type in the passwords that Tim had given him, another few to make the fixes in the nutrients in the tank.

It takes a minute, the longest 60 seconds of his entire life thus far (far longer then the 52 seconds that he'd spent staring at Tim and Cassie when he'd found out about their affair, they think he doesn't know) for the changes to take affect.

The baby's eyes open, blink sleepily at him through the glass before they close again.

He smiles and begins the end sequence.

The baby is about nine months, he has already shuttled the things that the parents that he's chosen for the child will need to raise a half-human, half-Kryptonian baby.

He's told them what they'll have to name him, because he has to be a Conner.

They told them they already knew that, and he doesn't know how, he's not done this before. He's changing the future and the past all in one fell swoop.

They know who the boy is, they know who his parents are.

He hadn't had to explain anything about how this is the only off-spring of Kal-El of Krypton and Lex Luthor. He'd had a story already; he'd been disappointed that he hadn't gotten to use it.

They'd already know, they'd been expecting him when he knocked on the door.

He wonders how they'll explain it, what reasoning they'll use when Conner is old enough to grow into himself and people figure out who he is.

The fluids in the tank begin to drain out and he waits until the fluid is half drained to allow the tank to separate. Pulls the boy into his arms, uncaring of the fact that the fluids are being transferred from the baby to his uniform, once his task is complete he'll cease to exist anyway.

The smell is more familiar then he'd like, full of sense memory and feelings of pain and confusion. The boy's eyes open and he makes a sound like he's undecided as to whether he's going to cry or not.

It's the right thing to do, he decides.

To give this boy the chance that none of his previous versions have ever been allowed.

Tim and Cassie will be together, he won't have to ignore the fact that Cassie has never been happy with him, that Tim regrets trying to re-clone him.

They'll be angry at first, he thinks. But once they realize that he's done this for them, that this is the best thing for them…

He wraps the boy in his cape, cradling him in his arms.

He'd wanted children, wanted a child of his own.

This boy that he holds in his arms for only as long as it takes to get them to where they're going, this boy is as close as he'll get to that now.

******************************************************************************

They're waiting, patiently, Batman thinks.

He doesn't think of himself as Tim any longer, hasn't since he turned nineteen and was successful in his attempts to bring Kon back.

The Kon they got was darker, had none of the memories of his predecessor and didn't care to claim them either.

He looks over at where Cassie is standing next to her younger version. They look the same and different, she's getting concerned as well, glancing down at her wrist and back over at the door.

"What are you looking for?" Tim asks, he's been perched in the back of the room, keeping an eye on everyone. He doesn't trust them.

"It's been too long," Cassie says and Batman nods.

Kon should have appeared in the doorway by now, arm over the shoulder of the young clone wrapped in his cape.

He taps his communicator and comes up with static, no answer, they work anywhere.

Now he's really concerned, as well as maybe a little scared.

Something that can cause Kon to not respond to him is not something that he cares to meet without Superman beside him.

He leads the way, the others following and Tim falls into step beside him when he realizes where they're going.

The door is open, and Batman walks, cautious and on alert, into the room and sees the tank in the middle of it, empty.

No Kon, no young Kon.

The room is empty, still.

"Tim?" his Cassie is beside him in a second. It takes him a second to realize that she's speaking to him and not to his younger self.

There's no signs of damage, no signs of a fight, no sign that that they were taken by force.

A sharp, shooting pain in the middle of his head and he doesn't double over like the others, but only because he's had years of handling pain and not showing it.

He can feel his memories resorting themselves, he remembers Kon coming in with his young clone, the joy that he'd felt at having Kon back and then that memory is gone, snatched away from him and replaced by this one, of the pain of knowing that the future Superman had done something, that there'd obviously been plans made that had never come to fruition because they'd been changed without their knowledge, and, and…

Cassie is crying, arms over her head.

He knows fiercely, without a doubt, that they'll never see their Kon again.

That the past has changed once again and…

Nothing.

******************************************************************************

She's not on crowd control, she should be in the air, circling, making sure no one is fleeing that way.

She doesn't know what makes her look down, something in the crowd catches her eye and she can see Robin glance over at her.

She sees him and stops, a familiar face, achingly familiar and there is a sharp pain in her heart that only comes when she's thinking about Kon.

He's watching with interest, like every other bystander that is standing and gawking, he doesn't know her, she knows this because he meets her eyes and there is no sign of recognition there.

Nothing at all.

She glances away, back to where she remembers Robin being to try and get his attention and when she looks back he's gone.

******************************************************************************

He searches the output from the cameras because Cassie is prone to many things but hallucinations have not been listed among them for at least a year.

The building catty corner from where the fight had taken place is owned by a company that is owned by Wayne-corp three times removed.

"Did you find anything yet?" Cassie appears behind him and he continues hitting buttons, jogging through the footage.

He can see the beginning of the fight and he's looking for that instant where he remembers looking over and seeing Cassie staring down at the crowd, he finds it and uses the time readings to coordinate it with the rest of the footage from the other cameras.

Cassie is still behind him but he's learned to block her presence out, she doesn't distract him the way that she used to. He thinks that it might be because they both know, that on that day so many months prior, when their future versions had descended on them, something had changed.

Their Superman had disappeared; the clone that had been in the tank when Tim had checked it's readings that morning had vanished. And he'd known, even back then, that the future Kon had done something to erase himself from their timestream.

As well as all the data and samples that he needed to make another attempt at cloning Kon. He hasn't figured out a way to ask Superman and Luthor for more genetic samples without making it known what he's attempting.

"There," Cassie's hand flies out over his shoulder, pointing and he pauses the record with the quick flick of two fingers.

He leans forward and cleans the record with another jab of a finger and he can see what Cassie saw.

Can see what pulled her out of the fight, the face is familiar, he looks the same.

"Kon."

******************************************************************************

He calls Superman and he gets Batman as well.

It's two for the price of one and he gets a believer and a skeptic and they both stare at the pictures. He can never tell what Batman is thinking when he has the cowl on, but he can tell that Batman is playing the role of skeptic to Superman's believer.

"Kon," Superman whispers and Tim leans forward. Because that wasn't said by Superman, that was said by Clark.

Soft and pain-filled, Clark is touching Kon's face in the picture, like if he just tried hard enough he could touch the boy in real life through the picture.

"Where did you get these?" Batman asks.

"There was a fight down on fifth, one of the Wayne-corp subsidiaries owns a building there. Cassie saw him in the crowd, she tried to get my attention but by the time we got over there he was gone."

He doesn't tell them that he hadn't believed her, that they'd had a huge fight that had resulted in Cassie slapping him.

It had hurt.

It had stung more when he'd seen the footage and saw what she'd seen and remembered that besides him, Cassie had known Kon the best. He purposefully doesn't think of Bart, Bart is gone.

"Luthor probably has something to do with this," Batman says, he's talking to Superman, but Superman isn't listening because Clark is staring at the pictures.

"I don't think so," Tim says. He puts the think in there, but he's fairly confident that Luthor had nothing to do with this. Luthor has spies everywhere, and one of those spies had to have seen the boy like Cassie had because he's searching discreetly for a boy fitting Kon's description, just like they are.

******************************************************************************

Lois and Chris are waiting for him when he gets home. Chris happy to see him, Lois hasn't been happy to see him in months so he isn't surprised by the pinched, tight look on her face. Around her mouth.

She'd never wanted to be a mother and he has to bite his tongue to keep from reminding her that she had agreed to this. To raising Chris and only a small part of him is upset that he couldn't get her to make this agreement when Kon was still alive.

Batman pages him after they finish dinner, Clark is sitting at the table with Chris, he's tapping at his computer and Chris is working on problem sets for school.

Lois had disappeared into the bedroom right after dinner, when Clark and Chris had been doing dishes.

"I have something you need to see," is Batman's succinct comment.

Clark can detect no emotion, no way of telling if Batman has a new scar he wants to show off or if he has a criminal cornered and wants Superman's input.

He glances over at Chris and the boy is looking back at him, fingers rolling the pencil between his fingers absently.

"It's okay," he says in his young, happy voice. Clark doesn't think that Chris hasn't ever not seemed young or sounded happy.

"I won't be gone long," Clark promises.

******************************************************************************

Batman's transmission comes from his cave, but when Superman gets there, Bruce is the one waiting for him. Half in costume, the cowl gone.

There's pictures on the monitors, two of them Clark recognizes from the ones that Tim and Cassie had shown them. The others show the same boy, all at different times because he's wearing different clothes.

"What?" Clark doesn't understand.

"I went back through footage from fights that had taken place near or around Wayne-corp buildings, I found him on footage that was taken from at least two of the Titans altercations, two Outsiders, three Justice League."

"I don't get it," Clark says softly. "Why hasn't he approached one of us? He's there, he's watching us, why doesn't he…"

Bruce looks over at him.

"He may be watching us to figure out our weaknesses, to find a way for Luthor to destroy us."

"Kon wouldn't do that."

"That boy isn't Kon, that boy is a clone, a fake copy of Kon," Clark looks over, because even for Bruce that statement was surprisingly gentle. "This boy is something else; we know to look for him now. I'll send the information to the other teams and maybe we can lay a trap for him."

"We're not going to hurt him," Clark says alarmed. Kon has already been hurt enough, and even if this boy isn't Kon, Clark won't allow him to be harmed in the name of learning his secrets.

"We just want to talk to him," Bruce says.

Clark doesn't believe him.

******************************************************************************

The Outsiders catch him.

He's spotted twice more, Robin misses springing the trap that's been set for him by 45 seconds and he's still beating himself up about it when Nightwing contacts them to say they have him.

He's been hit with a tranquilizer, specially designed by Batman to subdue Superman if need be, it's like everyone has forgotten that Kon is a half-Kryptonian, because they all seemed shocked that four hours later, he's still unconscious.

Batman has been taking the time to go through the belongings that were found on the boy.

There are three devices that they can't recognize, Batman quarantines them until further tests can be done on them to determine if they're safe or not.

Superman is sitting outside the cell that they have the boy locked in, watching. Cassie is leaning against the wall doing the same thing, eyes bright. Tim can recognize the fact that she'd been crying but has managed to pull herself together, Wonder Woman being next to her probably has something to do with that.

Robin tries to keep away, but like everyone else he is drawn to the cell that Kon is in.

Batman has finally conceded that Luthor most likely had nothing to do with the Kon before them now, the fact that Luthor is still actively looking for signs of him when they've actually managed to find and contain him probably has something to do with that.

"He could be just trying to throw us off the scent," Batman says, though even he sounds like he doesn't buy that.

He's working on analyzing the three devices that they found on Kon, every few hours he shows up to remind Superman that he has a life outside of Kon.

Superman leaves and returns with Chris in tow, settles him in his quarters and returns to his vigil outside Kon's cell.

"Lois is on assignment," Clark says simply.

They're going on nine hours with no sign of Kon getting ready to wake, someone goes for food and Tim sheds Robin like so many of the others are shedding their alters and then forces himself to eat half his sandwich.

"When do you think he's going to wake up?" Cassie asks.

She's sitting next to him, back against a wall. He passes her a bag of chips and she hands over a soda.

"Soon," Tim says, then returns his attention to eavesdropping on the conversation that Bruce is having with Clark and Diana.

"Two of the devices are working copies of prototypes I'm currently working on," Bruce says. He sounds annoyed and glances over at where Kon is still out, when he wakes up Tim envisions his questions are going to lean more toward 'who supplies your gadgets?' then 'who created you?'

Someone has gone into his cell and placed a blanket over him, a pillow under his head.

Tim is split on either Clark or Cassie. He knows it wasn't him, he'd thought about it but by the time he'd convinced himself that Kon would be getting cold someone had beat him to it.

"What about the third one?" Diana asks.

"I don't know, it's a design that I'm unfamiliar with, and its construction patterns aren't showing up in my database at all," Bruce is turning the gadget over and over in his hands. "Some of the symbols etched into it are vaguely familiar, though they're not turning up any hits in our databases."

"Do you smell that?" Cassie whispers, Tim turns to look at her and then does.

A faintly sweet smell, he isn't in costume, there's no breather secreted in his street clothes, not in the Watchtower of all places and he can see the second that everyone else notices it as well and then everything freezes.

Or rather he, they freeze.

He can still see, he's still aware of his surroundings but he can't move or talk, he can't even blink and he hopes that whatever this is wears off and then wonders why intruders on the Watchtower hadn't set off the Intruder Alarm.

It just figures that this would be the moment that they've been waiting for, because Kon is beginning to stir in the cell, moving slowly and legs appear in the limited line of sight he has.

There's no costume, but the posture and stride are utterly familiar. Except it doesn't make any sense.

Though he knows, now, why the Intruder Alarm didn't go off.

Because that is Dick pressing the key code into Kon's cell to open the door, an older Dick with silver streaks in his hair is kneeling by Kon talking quietly.

"Don't move too quickly," he's saying softly, he's pulling Kon into his arms.

If he could move he would be jerking in shock, everyone else would be as well so he doesn't feel too badly about that, when Kon mumbles a faint, "'m okay dad."

"Shh, shh," Dick murmurs. He's running a gentle hand over Kon's head. "Just breathe slowly Conner."

"God I can't believe we were ever this young," Roy appears in front of Tim, peering at him then Cassie, he makes the same visual inspections of Clark and Bruce and Diana.

"Roy…" Dick sounds exasperated.

"Well really, Bruce and Diana don't even have any gray yet… though maybe they color."

"I dare you to ask one of them if they ever colored their hair, though let me know beforehand so I can make sure to record the inevitable smackdown."

Roy laughs. "I am serious though, this would had to have been, what? 15 years or so before he showed up on our doorstep with Conner in tow?"

"Something like that," Dick says absently, he's running a hand over Kon's head.

"…head hurts," Kon says softly, his eyes aren't open.

"I know," Dick soothes, Tim didn't think he could sound that gentle and soft. "Just give it a few minutes."

"Found the transporter, and his communication device," Roy appears in Tim's line of sight again, he's tucking two of the three devices that Bruce had been playing with in a pocket on his jacket. "Can't find his cloaking device, I think he turned it off. Probably how they managed to find him in the first place."

"Check Bruce, he likes to fidget with things he doesn't recognize."

Roy peels Bruce's fingers aside and smiles when he finds it. He presses two of the symbols that had puzzled Bruce and then slides it into his pocket with the others. He walks over to the cell where Dick is still sitting with Kon in his arms, kneels beside them and touches Kon's face softly. "How you feeling buddy?"

"Dad shot me with a tranq papa," Kon says in a small voice, Roy laughs softly.

"I didn't," Dick starts.

"Actually, you kind of did," Roy's voice is amused.

"Well I didn't know back then," Dick insists.

"He's not blaming you," Roy says. "Though I did tell you that you should wait just a bit longer."

"I didn't think he'd go running off into the past to see for himself, now did I."

"Except that's exactly what happened last time, he was found here and we came to bring him home and had to sit him down and explain things."

"He was eighteen when he reappeared and Conner is only seventeen, I didn't think he'd," Dick sounds so distressed. "I thought we had at least another seven months with our son before we had to send him back here to be poked and prodded and tore apart by Bruce and Clark and every other member of the Justice League that doesn't trust him. Excuse me if I'm not feeling joy and happiness about sending him to that."

"You still should have waited."

"For what? So Clark could tell him instead, or maybe you would rather Tim and Cassie had sat him down and tried to explain their convoluted relationship with him, or maybe you would rather he showed up in the same room as Conner and no explanations were necessary anymore, I would rather he hear the whole long story from one of us then one of them," Dick says with exasperation. Kon makes a noise that sounds like an objection in the back of his throat.

Tim can't remember the last time he saw Dick this angry, though his hands are still gentle on Kon where he's getting to his feet and bringing Kon with him. Roy helps.

"Dick," Roy says gently. "He needed to know, I agree with that, nothing is going to change that. You know it as well as I do, things are happening in the exact order that they did the first time."

"I still don't see why we have to…"

"There's certain things that we don't have control over," Roy is saying as they maneuver slowly past them. "Bruce's skepticism and Clark and everyone else's distrust, we can't control those things. We can control how prepared Conner is to be coming to those people. They'll need him, because no one else will be able to do what needs to be done. It was only our job to raise him into the person that could handle what he needs to do."

Tim doesn't hear what Dick's response is, the door closes and he can blink and a few seconds later he can move.

Bruce huffs an angry sound and he's out the door, Clark and Diana right behind him.

They're back a few seconds later. Alone.

"They're gone."

******************************************************************************

Clark's not sure how long they're going to be waiting.

The older Dick and Roy had mentioned seven months, but with time travel involved (as it evidently was) it could be seven months their time and three days his.

"Will he like me?" Chris is asking, Clark smiles at him, strokes a hand across his hair.

"Of course he will," Clark promises.

Their Dick and Roy had seemed amused by the footage when shown it. They hadn't been as amused by Bruce trying to interrogate them on events that had not happened yet.

******************************************************************************

He appears in the Fortress of all places, Superman is there because… well he isn't sure why he's there. He'd just felt an imperative need to commune with his heritage. Chris is with him, laying on the floor to one side, more homework in front of him.

He feels the air shift and pop.

"Clark?" Chris asks, raising his head and when they turn Kon is there.

Looking uncomfortable in the jeans and black t-shirt that had been his uniform for so many years. There's a backpack over one shoulder and another bag at his feet, he looks sad and alone and Clark wonders if he feels like his parents have abandoned him because they've sent him here.

He wants to laugh, because he doesn't understand why someone thought it a smart idea for Dick Grayson and Roy Harper to raise Kon, Bruce alone must have had a coronary the first time through. Let alone what Oliver must have done.

"Hi," Chris says, he bounds to his feet, homework forgotten. "Hi, I'm Chris," he offers his hand and Kon stares at him for a long second before he accepts it.

"Hi Chris," he says softly. There's no recognition in his voice when he looks at Chris, and Clark has to wonder why, he should know all of them.

Has been raised by them, he's been a child, raised to be an adult by some of the best of them.

"Kon-El," he says, Kal-El in his voice, Superman in uniform. Clark is pleased inside to have the boy back where he belongs.

******************************************************************************

This world is a totally different place then the one he left, he knows that he's going to the Watchtower for days upon days of tests, just like he knows that Dick and Roy will be the ones to put a stop to them.

The Dick and Roy that are not yet his parents, because that hasn't happened yet.

He knows this because his dads had made a point of telling him.

He keeps reminding himself that it's only a few days, then buries everything else that he knows because he doesn't trust the psychics to just not take the information that they want.

This world is his, but it's not.

Clark doesn't act like the kindly uncle, he and Bruce aren't yet lovers and Lois and he appear to still be married.

He knows that Tim and Cassie have been waiting since they first saw him for him to come back.

He knows that Chris hasn't revealed himself for who he is yet.

He could warn them, could tell them what needs to be done. Then go home.

They told him before they sent him here, their flimsy excuses as to why they couldn't do this themselves, why it had to be him.

He knows he can't, so when Batman asks the questions he shakes his head and refuses to answer. He's been warned about sharing the things that he knows and he loves the world that he came from so he doesn't want to change that.

He endures the tests stoically. He's been through worse, when Lex Luthor figured out who he was, who Dick Grayson and Roy Harper were raising, he'd almost killed him before the Justice League and the Titans had managed to rescue him.

He'd been eight, and it was the first time that he could remember looking up and not being afraid of Batman, because Batman had held him tightly against his chest until his father had pulled him from his arms and into his own.

So they test him and he's been through versions of these tests, they're not so bad.

He just has to not think about them.

Instead he forces himself to remember happy things, when Batman is poking him with needles and holding a miniscule piece of kryptonite over him he remembers Bruce chasing him around the mansion, tickling him until he laughed so hard that he cried, he remembers him holding him on his lap and reading him a bedtime story when his dad and papa were late coming back from patrol.

When Superman asks endless questions about what he's seen, what he knows, 'don't you want to change the world for the better' he remembers Clark, who was always right on the outside of his family, holding tight to Bruce and watching him with eyes that, back then, he couldn't decipher but now knows were screaming you're mine, my family, my son, not theirs.

The others stand back, let Batman and Superman handle things with him and he sees Robin and Wonder Girl only once at the back of the room when Superman brings him to the Watchtower.

He thinks he saw himself once, Tim and Cassie had disappeared at the same time from a party and he'd been fifteen and bored and at a party with people much older then him.

He'd seen them in the garden, the three of them, arms wrapped around each other and he'd thought they'd looked peaceful until he'd heard Cassie crying, until he saw the lines of tension on Tim's face and the other one had been whispering to them.

Something he couldn't hear.

He'd never seen him again; either on purpose or accidentally… From the sadness that had been permanently etched into Tim and Cassie's faces after that, he didn't think anyone else had either.

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Superman has fought Darkseid, again. Batman has fought back Ra's al Ghul, again. Everyone has fought back their fiercest foes yet things just kept continually getting darker and they keep returning. They have no clue what is going on and they think they're stuck in some version of hell.

The battles getting harder and bloodier. It's Kon that figures it out, when Clark thinks that they're all going to die Kon does it.

Clark thinks that he probably knew all along, he doesn't know what he was waiting for.

It's just five simple words that destroy the construct that Chris is, the boy screams before he vanishes and the world rights itself.

Clark is glad that Kon was the one to do it, because when he looks at Chris he sees the child that he took into his life and his home, and he doesn't think that he would have been able to.

Kon just falls to his knees and doesn't say a word.

Dick is the one that goes to him, lays an arm over his shoulder and tugs him into a hug.

"I wanted to be wrong, dad," he whispers and Clark sees one lone tear travel down his cheek for the boy that Chris should have been.

"You did good, you made me so proud," Dick says and Clark knows that Kon isn't hearing the voice of someone that barely knows him, he's hearing his fathers voice praising him for doing the right thing.

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FIC: SPN/SV - A Mother's Story - Lex/Dean, Sam, Genevieve - PG13

2007-09-15T01:50:48Z

Ryan Ross and I have reached an agreement finally. I write whatever he wants, he lets me work on things that don't involve him.

The sixth story in my continuing Jason Dean Winchester series. Read these first or this will make absolutely no sense: A Love Story, Interlude In 5 Parts, Appearances Can Be Deceiving, Invincible and Perfect Clarity.

I like writing Genevieve, is it insane that I want to AU my own universe and write a story where John goes to Genevieve for help after Mary's death and they end up being this really dysfunctional family?

It didn't take much for her to decide that if she wanted to have the baby she'd have to take drastic measures.

RATING: PG13
PAIRING: Lex/Dean (Jason), mentions of past Dean (Jason)/Lana
Author: Melanie
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, but I'll put them back in almost the same condition I found them in.
SPOILERS: Up to Season 2 for Supernatural, Season 4 for Smallville.
SUMMARY: It didn't take much for her to decide that if she wanted to have the baby she'd have to take drastic measures.

A Mother's Story

The day that she found out for sure, she'd known that her father would be infuriated, he'd spent the majority of her relationship with John angry at one or both of them.

She put off telling him for as long as possible but eventually the morning sickness was kind of obvious and he wasn't so self-involved that he would believe that she had food poisoning for three long weeks.

John had never told her but she was sure that there'd been at least one attempt to buy him off before he'd fled town to the Marines.

Just like there'd been more then one attempt, after she told her father, to convince her to either abort the baby or for her to miscarry in some horrible manner. She was sure that if he could figure out a way for her to accidentally fall down the stairs without breaking her neck in the process he would have done it.

It didn't take much for her to decide that if she wanted to have the baby she'd have to take drastic measures.

Drastic measures like stalking John's parents' house waiting for him to show back up in town, then convincing him that they would raise the baby together but without the benefit of marriage.

She didn't know what he thought, she sometimes didn't even care, other times she wanted him to force the issue.

But he didn't, he brought up marriage once then let the subject drop when she told him in her haughtiest tone that there was no way in hell that she would be a military wife and he let her bully him into moving into the apartment. He was weak; she hoped that the child didn't take after him.

The only demand that he did make was that the child was going to have his name.

Which she readily agreed to, after all the child would have fewer enemies as a Winchester then as a Teague anyway.

So she had a small measure of protection against her father, she didn't have to worry about convincing him to sign a prenup and she could leave eventually without having to go through a messy divorce.

Her father had gone through three; she'd always hoped that she'd at least learned something from his mistakes.

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They argued about what to name him for so long that she wondered if it was even worth it to continue the fight.

Because even after they finally agreed on his name, they still called him by different ones.

Jason Dean Winchester.

It was a strong name, she hoped that it was strong enough.

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Jason hated her.

Every time she picked him up he'd whimper and cry and would only settle when John would hold him carefully against his chest, like he thought he'd break him if he held him too tightly. Murmuring the entire time 'it's okay Dean, it's okay, don't cry, shh, shh', as he swayed him back and forth.

She glared with narrowed eyes at the way Jason settled, and she bit her tongue because they'd already had a dozen fights on what Jason's name was and what they should be calling him.

But the way that John was with him… well it made the decision all that much easier.

John loved the boy, she did as well but for some reason she couldn't make him love her back and she wondered if it was punishment for some of her sins against his father.

Her father had offered to take her back, but only if Jason didn't come with her.

So she'd cuddled him to her chest and gave him one last chance to love her, instead he whimpered and cried and she'd maybe shed a tear or sobbed but it couldn't be proven and then she'd handed him to John when he'd come home and walked away.

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The paper was two years old, she was never sure how her father had found it and what had drawn his interest back to John Winchester enough for him to search for it.

Because he would have had to have been consciously searching for something on John to have found it.

It was just a tiny blurb in the paper, something so inconsequential that she would have totally overlooked it if her father hadn't left it beside her breakfast plate, the black marker that he'd circled it with soaking through the remaining pages.

It took her a few minutes to realize that her father wasn't just trying to disturb her morning rituals, thus throwing her entire day out of whack, then another few for her to finish contemplating poisoning his morning coffee before she actually read the little blurb.

Mysterious fire caused by an electrical short, Mary Winchester dead. Survived by her husband John and two young sons Dean and Samuel.

She glared at the paper and wondered what had given John the right to not only rename her son but also to apparently give him to another woman.

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John fought her on seeing Jason, continually calling him Dean and she hung up on him once she was so infuriated.

Eventually he either got tired of her calling multiple times a day or he'd finally taken her threats to drag him into court to take her son back seriously.

She assumed that was what her father wanted her to do, she couldn't see any other point to the whole thing, and he'd never said the words out loud just looked pointedly at the paper, while she nodded once to show that she'd both seen it and understood what needed to be done.

There was nothing vastly different between now and then, Jason was still her son with a man that her father didn't like, except for that fact that she was no longer involved with John and that Jason was no longer a baby.

Maybe it had been the fact that Jason had been a baby and her father didn't know how to deal with children under the age of ten?

John had brought Jason to meet her at a small diner in Lawrence. The boy peering up at her from where he was half-hidden behind his fathers' legs.

He blinked at her and shook her hand when John introduced them. His little hand in hers and her breath caught.

This was her son after all.

Her flesh and blood.

This boy had come from her and John and he hopefully had gotten all the best parts of them and none of the anger and pain that they'd had to deal with.

For a brief moment she looked at John and saw a man who was a father, who loved his son fiercely even though half of him was Genevieve and she loved him a little bit right then.

Then Jason wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't call her mom and she hated him again so at least she wouldn't have to explain to her father why she was dragging John home alongside Jason.

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She still had to fight John for time with Jason. A day here, a day there and her father had slipped her cards for two lawyers that she really didn't want to have to use.

She also didn't like having to continually track him down. He moved frequently, both boys with him and she'd offered more then once to take Jason off his hands but he'd refused.

She couldn't figure out what he was doing, the private detectives that she'd hired to keep tabs on him seemed confused most of the time by his actions.

Most of the time she didn't care, except when Jason came to spend a day or a weekend or finally weeks with her and she found bruises and wondered if John was hitting her son because he was hers and not that hussy that had stolen her son and then gotten herself killed.

She didn't think that could be the case, she remembered John holding Jason so carefully and knew somewhere deep inside her that he wouldn't do that.

Not ever.

But then she'd see the cuts and the bruises and once a black eye and Jason would never tell her where they came from, would just look at her until she moved onto a different topic and she would once more entertain the possibility that John had changed more then she thought in the years since they'd not been together.

Maybe it would have been better if she'd dragged the entire Winchester clan back home with her after that first meeting.

She thought she might even have been able to put up with having another woman's child in her house as long as she knew that hers wasn't being hit because he wasn't that other woman's.

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The first time she saw Jason and Lex Luthor in the same room together she thought she saw sparks fly, then decided that she was imagining things.

Half of the things that Jason did she was sure he did strictly to annoy her because of the way that she'd gotten him to her side.

She probably shouldn't have threatened Samuel, but he'd really left her no other choice. She wouldn't actually kill the boy, she didn't think, not unless he got in the way of her plans for Jason.

Which since he was at Stanford and had, for the most part, severed all contact with Jason and John she didn't think was likely.

Maybe he saw, like she did, that what Jason and John believed and were doing was totally insane.

Demons and werewolves and ghosts and all manner of other supernatural things that didn't exist. She should have fought John for Jason back when he'd been six and not so impressionable that he believed without question that his father truly battled the things that hid in the dark.

Then there was the unhealthy dependency on his half-brother and father and she wanted nothing more then to sever those ties, obliterate them totally, make him rely solely on her.

Which he wouldn't do, he couldn't even pretend to love her like he should considering she was his mother unless there was someone else present.

His 'relationship' with Lex reminded her all too vividly of her and John back when they'd been young.

Because they continued butting heads and only half the time was it over the Lang girl or anything else that they deemed important enough to snarl at each other about.

It was a courtship ritual she decided and she wouldn't be surprised if one of them killed off one of the others enemies and presented it with a smile as a token of their affection.

She thought they might actually care about each other, which was a distressing thought, she'd only felt a mild, fleeting form of affection for John so maybe they weren't like her and John at all.

And almost against her will she thought it was kind of cute, though she never voiced that opinion out loud, instead radiating as much disapproval as she could manage when she really wanted to give Lex Luthor a list of her (and by extension Jason's) enemies for him to do with as he saw fit.

It would be nice to clear the list back down to one page at some point and if she could use the Luthor's to help do that she had absolutely no problems at all with that.

So even though she had a small problem with him becoming involved with the Luthor heir she figured that he was at least better suited for Jason then Lana Lang.

And dear God, her sons taste in women left a lot to be desired.

She was inordinately pleased when that relationship ended, not so pleased that the relationship with Lex didn't follow suit. Though they took great pains to make sure that no one knew about it.

She wasn't sure how Jason felt about the other young man; she certainly didn't feel comfortable asking him and she really didn't feel comfortable bringing Jason fully into her plans without knowing that.

If he loved him, well Jason would feel it necessary to warn Lex and Genevieve had gotten to a point where she could feel affection for him so she didn't want to have to harm him if he tried to get in her way.

Then it became a moot point.

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She knew it was John, even before the cameras in the house showed her his face, she knew it was him.

She didn't understand why he would hit Jason, didn't understand why Jason didn't put up a bigger fight.

But at least it kept Jason from interfering with her plans.

At least now she could proceed without worrying about where to slot Jason into her plans where he could do the least amount of damage.

And she made sure that her escape plan was fully in place, no sense being trapped if she didn't have to and getting one person out of town unseen… much easier then trying to get two out of town.

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Being dead allowed her to move with a lot more freedom then she would have thought.

She had a number of ID's that were useable and not known to those that were either her friends or her enemies.

She put plans into motion and waited for the outcomes and she searched for Jason.

He was an adult, John couldn't have hid him as easily as he'd been able to hide him as a child. And that monstrous car was more then easy to track.

It took her a few weeks but she finally tracked him to a small town and watched him and the half brother dig up a grave.

She'd never thought grave robbing would be part of his repertoire, though she knew that the things that John had believed had been firmly entrenched into Jason's mind as facts instead of the crazy, insane stories that had been disproved over and over again.

She was wondered if therapy would help when she saw both boys stiffen and the brother, Samuel go off with his gun drawn.

She wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it and at points she still didn't.

She watched and waited and followed after that, not too closely because Jason seemed to have an uncanny ability to realize that he was being followed and losing the subsequent tails.

She saw the things that they hunted, saw Jason lose more and more control as they hunted them and wondered if Jason's loss of control was due to John's death or other, outside influences.

She watched them go back to Smallville to Lex Luthor and lamented not putting a stop to that relationship when she'd had a least a partial chance.

Getting close to Jason would be difficult with the Luthor's still in the mix.

She waited until she the perfect time to approach. After a visit with Lex because Jason would be calmer for a short time after that.

She saw the same articles they did, it didn't take much to figure out what they were looking for when they scanned over multiple papers in the awful diners they frequented.

She positioned herself in the right place at the right time and she waited and when the time came she walked out of the darkness and stared at her son, (she ignored the other one because he wasn't important except as a possible piece of leverage) she didn't wonder if maybe he would shoot her because whatever else she was, she was his mother and he would never lift a hand to harm her.

"You wouldn't really shoot your mother, would you?"

FIC: P!ATD: Sunday Pornothon Prompt #31 - Brendon/Keltie/Ryan - NC17

2007-08-21T00:35:02Z

So disarm_d was having a pornothon , one of Sunday's prompts was:

Pairing: Brendon/Keltie/Ryan
Kink: crossdressing
Prompt: Brendon and Keltie are bff's and Ryan as the new guy (who looks like a girl) in their lives.

It doesn't exactly fit it, but… it's not titled and there will be more of this eventually.

Prompt #31
Pairing: Brendon/Keltie/Ryan
Kink: crossdressing
Prompt: I just really want to read more about Ryan dressed as a girl, I can't lie, so this is optional but!
Non-AU: Ryan tells Keltie he's always been curious about crossdressing and instead of freaking out, she encourages it and shows him off to Brendon when he's all dressed up.
AU: Brendon and Keltie as bffs and Ryan as the new guy (who looks like a girl) in their lives.

Brendon and Keltie share everything.

Everything.

But they're not together. Not in the least, they've been best friends since they were kids and Keltie laid out David Stormer for pushing Brendon down on the playground.

It wasn't Brendon's fault, he's been told by his parents that fighting is bad and he should never raise a hand to anyone, Keltie on the other hand has two older brothers who have taught her to protect herself.

They've been best friends ever since.

Most people don't understand them, they swear up and down that they're not together, yet they'll leave clubs together, some pretty little thing tucked between them.

It's a game to them, sometimes. They never do it to hurt anyone, Brendon doesn't like hurting people and Keltie just wants to have fun.

The Party Room is one of their favorite clubs.

They're known there, they never have to wait in line and they can typically pick out their playmate for the night ten minutes after walking in.

This Saturday is different; Brendon knows he's being difficult, Keltie is getting exasperated with him.

She's pointed out three or four different guys, on a normal night he probably would have agreed to the second one.

That one had been his type, tall and thin, totally his type under normal circumstances.

Keltie notices her first, she's tall and thin. Wearing a skirt that's not nearly short enough for this club on a Saturday night, she's not got much going on up top, but she's working what she has.

Brendon can tell that Keltie is entranced by the way her eyes don't move away. Keltie doesn't typically go for the girls, she told Brendon once that she'd had one girl on girl encounter and it had ended with her having to punch someone.

This girl though, she's swaying to the music, her partner has a hand on her ass and when they turn enough so they can see her face Brendon sighs.

He's not much for the girls either, he's about 90% gay, but that 10% that isn't thinks this girl is the prettiest thing he's seen in ever.

"Are those stars on her face?" Brendon glances over and Keltie is squinting, the girl and her partner are far enough away that they can't really see that much detail.

"One way to find out," Brendon finishes his beer; if he leaves it on the counter it'll be gone before they're even on the dance floor.

He grabs Keltie's hand and they make their way to the floor, he doesn't recognize the song but the bass is hard hitting and he wants to dance suddenly.

Wants to sandwich that girl between him and Keltie and then take her back to their place and keep her between them.

Keltie is grinning at him; they've known each other long enough that she can follow his thoughts without him having to speak them.

The guy she's dancing with doesn't want to relinquish her, but Brendon's glare can be pretty impressive and Keltie slides right between them so he doesn't have much choice.

Her eyes blink open and she tilts her head to look at Brendon then at Keltie and then glances around for the partner that she'd just lost.

He's skulking away, pouting and Brendon wants to laugh.

Alls fair he thinks as she relaxes back against him, as his hands settle on slim hips and Keltie dances right up in front of her.

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"I think we both get what we want tonight," Keltie whispers when the girl goes to the bathroom. Brendon raises an eyebrow in Keltie's direction.

"Look at her neck when she comes back," Keltie grins, Brendon is confused and he doesn't like that feeling.

So when she comes back it's the first thing he looks for.

She's sipping the soda that they'd got for her, 'Pepsi, no alcohol' she'd whispered before she'd left, and he sees it. The prominent Adam's apple that marks her as a he and he hides his grin into his beer.

He'd thought that maybe his 10% of non-gay was going to trip him up and he'd have to settle for watching Keltie get her gay on.

Instead…

"What's say we get out of here," Keltie says, Brendon looks down and sees Keltie's hand on her, his thigh and grins.

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They keep him between them in the cab, they never drive on nights when they're clubbing.

Keltie has her hand on his thigh again, probably up further then that but in order for Brendon to check he'd have to stop kissing him.

And he doesn't plan to do that until they're back at the apartment that Brendon and Keltie share and they need to get out of the cab.

This boy's mouth is addictive, soft and sweet and Brendon can taste the remnants of his lipgloss, some sort of sweet caramel thing.

He's moaning, softly, into Brendon's mouth. Keltie's hand is almost definitely under his skirt, probably touching him, telling him that that they know what he is without words.

That there won't be any surprises when they peel him out of his clothes, when Brendon kneels him on his bed and fucks him hard while Keltie's got his face buried between her thighs.

She likes to be eaten, then fucked.

Brendon hopes to still be fucking him when that happens.

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He's oh so responsive and tighter then Brendon thought possible. He thinks he's going to come on the first thrust in and has to stop, has to not move and not think and breathe for a few seconds.

Keltie is moaning, hands above her head clenching the bars of his headboard, he likes the way her breasts look with her body arched the way it is.

Next time they do this he's going to tie her hands like that, force her body to stay tight and taut.

One hand has let go of the headboard and is clenched in the boys' hair, she's vibrating with tension and he thinks that the boy is evidently hitting all the right spots for her, because he doesn't think he's ever heard Keltie sound so close to coming so fast before.

He gives an experimental thrust and the boy moans, deep in his throat and Keltie is keening.

He almost wants to pull out, wants to lie down beside them, keep his fingers in the boy to keep him stretched for him and see what he's doing to make Keltie make those noises.

Instead he thrusts again and Keltie cries out, body arching off the bed and Brendon knows that she's coming. The boy (and they should really ask for his name at some point, Brendon thinks) keeps licking at her until she relaxes and pushes his head away. He lays his head on her stomach and pushes back against Brendon.

Brendon fucks back into him, hard and driving motions, alternating his angle until the boy clenches around him and utters a strangled 'oh god' while clutching at the bedspread.

Keltie grins up at him and Brendon grins back, she's reaching for a condom on the bedside table and Brendon pulls on the boys' hips, pulling him upright against him. The boys head drops back on his shoulder and Brendon bites kisses along his neck while Keltie rolls the condom on him.

Brendon pulls out and the boy moans in protest before he realizes what's happening, that he's being shifted onto his back and then Brendon is sliding back into him and Keltie is straddling him, guiding his cock into her.

There's a pause, there always is and then Brendon thrusts and Keltie raises up and starts fucking herself on the boy.

His hands come up to hold her hips, maybe to direct her movements which Brendon knows that Keltie hates, she likes to fuck.

She doesn't like to be told how to fuck; she laces her fingers with the boys and then leans forward, dragging the boys' arms over his head and Brendon sees the moment the boy gets it.

He's here for them, not for himself.

He wraps long fingers around the bars and closes his eyes.

Brendon leaves one hand on the boys' leg, the other cups Keltie's breast and she leans back, head turning so she can kiss him.

They only touch like this when they've got someone between them.

His hand leaves the boys leg and goes to her clit, rubbing against it roughly once, twice, three times and she cries out into his mouth when she comes again. He thrusts twice more and comes himself.

The boy is silent below them, his eyes still closed and Brendon knows he didn't come, he would have felt if he had, but when Keltie lifts off and lays down beside him he's not hard.

Brendon disposes of his condom, cleans himself up, removes the one from the boy and cleans him up as well, even though he doesn't need it.

He lies down on the other side of the boy and he and Keltie exchange confused looks over the boys' body.

They link hands over the boys' stomach and Brendon thinks that they'll rest for a few hours and then do this again, maybe figure out why the boy didn't come.

Maybe ask what the boys' name is.

They sleep and when they wake in the morning the boy is gone.

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