Ryan had a picture in his head of everything Brendon would be leaving behind, every[i]one.[/i] On just the first week of his stay Ryan had already considered calling Brendon's family and insisting they see him, just because it'd never looked this dire before and maybe they'd have some fucking humanity for once. Pray for him, or whatever, maybe - for a reason other than to change his identity. Now the pressure was on to really do that. They could lose their son, brother, uncle, and not even know it. If or when they did Ryan would inevitably be the messenger, forcing blankness and stoicism onto his face while he told them how Brendon started drinking when he was just a kid in large part because of them, and then how it extended into the rest of his life, and then it killed him. Rather, he killed himself with it. And then they probably wouldn't want anything to do with Ryan still, or ask him questions about who Brendon was, or come to his funeral. Ryan got visibly pissed just thinking about it.

He never mentioned that to Brendon. In fact he never mentioned anything negative to Brendon, as much as he could without making it seem like he was tip-toeing around him or pitying him; when doctors updated him on the severity of the situation he didn't question Brendon about what they said, when the rest of the world was having a crisis he didn't detail it to Brendon, if he himself wasn't feeling well he never relayed that information to Brendon. Anything that could potentially bring Brendon further down was strictly off limits in that hospital room - he even made sure to tell visitors that, because of course there'd be someone dumb enough to come in and make things even bleaker. 

Unfortunately Ryan was not mechanical, wasn't a professional at keeping his own emotions in check. Learning that there was potentially a month left... Ryan never, ever cried in front of Brendon if he could help it, even before all this. In fact, he probably hadn't seen it more than five times max in all the years they'd been together. As much as he tried to hide it now, Brendon clearly knew what was going on, avoiding looking directly at him and all. Ryan appreciated the sentiment. [i]We...[/i] Ryan let out a more steady breath at the feeling of Brendon's thumb running over his wrist, almost grounding. [i]We never had forever anyway.[/i] He was right - but Ryan liked to delude himself. He conveniently forgot about the year where both of them almost died 'forgetting' to care for themselves, he deliberately never thought about how much damage Brendon had done to his body by continuing his habits years later. All he ever let himself think about before was what kind of place they'd retire at, where they'd travel, who they'd eventually be. Now, he felt robbed, a little vengeful for Brendon's sake.

Ryan asked if he was scared and almost instantly regretted it. He'd never been quite so direct before. The contrast between this unfulfilling life, the uneventful and pure-white clean surfaced environment, with what was happening to Brendon and what was going to happen to him- it was monumental. When you looked from the outside he just looked like someone sick, young enough to maybe get better, especially because he was already in care. Anyone close enough to the case knew he was going to go, if not within the month then soon anyhow. It was terrifying. He didn't have to ask. [i]Y- Yeah, I am.[/i] Ryan's lips were already pressed to his temple before the words were fully out, his eyes still tightly shut. It was selfish to even really think about what he was feeling, but the total, overwhelming sense of powerlessness was alienating. It felt like he wasn't even [i]here[/i], his presence couldn't realistically be of any help.

But still. He would be here. [i]I know. It’d be you or Joey, and Joey would bring Wade and Wade would complain about hospitals.[/i] Ryan smiled against his skin, so glad, so proud he was looking for something to talk about other than the end of the line, beyond impressed by how brave he was being. Odd to say, but he would've never guessed Brendon would be like this if he had to imagine the situation without the knowledge and experience he had now. Not that Brendon didn't normally possess that kind of courage, but. Ryan just would have assumed he faced death with a little less... normalcy. He supposed Brendon had always been aware, vaguely, that he was walking the balance beam of living and not, though. Anyway, he stayed quiet, unable to stop his thoughts to think about anyone else for the time being, though he still registered the almost-wistfulness in Brendon's tone at the mention of their friends.

Still, as per regulation, he had to try to talk about something lighter, and his efforts were returned somewhat darkly. [i]If I start to get annoying just turn everything off.[/i] Ryan didn't really appreciate it, just following his gesture silently and feeling his own hands go ice cold in response, but at least he didn't start crying more. Which he felt dangerously close to doing. [b]"Not funny,"[/b] he mumbled after a pause, unable to conjure any other response. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a long moment again and then turning his head to face the ceiling, resigned. [b]"Brendon, if they're right, I don't know, um."[/b] More visuals of train stations, high ledges, orange pill bottles, passed through his head, and he felt stupid, selfish. [b]"I don't know what I'm supposed to... do."[/b] He was talking mostly about what to do with himself, but also how the hell was he supposed to arrange a funeral that fully memorialised Brendon, where was he supposed to be buried, what was Ryan supposed to do with everything they had, so on. Every post-death responsibility was a mystery to him suddenly, as if he'd never done it before, but then Brendon was far different and more significant than his first experience.

He paused again, just working on steadying his breathing, trying to stem the flow of silent tears that kept welling up and blurring his vision, erasing the tile detail on the ceiling and making the fluorescents look like visuals from heaven. [b]"I mean, I don't even know what to do when I'm at home now."[/b] He was almost sure that if Brendon passed then he might keep making the trip to the hospital room daily, or keep buying his favorite foods from the store and picking up second drinks for him at coffee shops, or keep seeing him in reflections and feeling his shoulder bump his own in subway seats. He'd keep forgetting Brendon was no longer alive, then forgetting to remember. Suddenly Ryan wasn't thinking about the conversational boundaries he'd set for himself, how he vowed to protect Brendon from thinking about anything vaguely hurtful. [b]"Like. What would you do if I- like, after. How would you go on?"[/b] Weirdly, it was easier to get the words out when it still felt like he was going to be with Brendon forever, like nothing had changed.