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Title: Fastest Runner, Highest Jumper
Pairing: Jon/Ryan
Rating: NC-17 (towards the end)
Warnings: Mentions of rape. Unbeta'd. Written on a bad day.
Summary: Don't hate.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. The plot came out of my head. This is not real.
A/N: 1) Title comes from something Ryan once said. 2) Ryan and Jon's tweets are real. The replies are NOT real. There are similar tweets out there that I'm sure Ryan and Jon (and all the rest) are NOT oblivious to. If my NOT real replies are in fact, real, it is a coincidence. I worked the replies into the fic to make a point for the storyline, you gets? And I feel I must say that I do not mean any harm or wish to express hate. 3) Story was born from this comment.

Part 12


Ryan left the doctor's office feeling drained. Weak. Confused. Anxious. Hurt. He quickened his long stride down the hall until he reached the door to the waiting room, where Spencer, Brendon and Jon waited for him.

As soon as he came into view, Jon was out of his chair and at his side.

Ryan smiled a nervous smile. "Can we just get out of here, like, now?"

Jon nodded. "You wanna ride back with Spence?"

"I kinda fancy a ride with you."

Jon smiled as he tugged Ryan closer to him, their shoulders colliding. Jon wrapped an arm around Ryan's waist and the younger man leaned into his side.

"Come on, Bren, let's get back to Ryan's, I'm starved." Spencer smiled at Brendon, who nodded.

Spencer clapped Ryan on the back before he headed to the exit.

Once in Jon's car, Ryan sighed. "Glad you came."

"Of course."

Ryan nodded as he put his seat-belt on. It was so easy with Jon. He smiled to himself, glad that he didn't ask any questions. "I hate coming here." Ryan shivered as he glanced at Jon.

"I'm glad you went," Jon said as he patted Ryan's leg before he moved the car into gear and pulled out onto the road.

"I only asked to get screened for, you know, everything. I didn't tell them that I was... you know..." Ryan bit his lip. He knew he was a coward for not telling the doctor what happened, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't let anyone else know. It was his problem. It didn't have to be any bigger than it should be. He could live with it. Ryan glanced at Jon, his eyes were drawn to white, torn up knuckles that grasped the steering wheel. "I'm sorry."

Jon sighed. "Shit, Ryan, you don't have to be sorry. I just--it's just--Fuck! I hate that you have to deal with any of this. At all. I hate them for doing this to you."

Ryan glanced out the window as Jon came to a stop at the light. "I hit you. I hurt you," Ryan said carefully.

"Yeah, you hit me, but you didn't hurt me." Jon met Ryan's eyes briefly before he turned his gaze back onto the road. "I can imagine, you thought I was someone else."

Ryan closed his eyes recalling the night he hurt Jon.

He had woken up with his heart in his throat. He couldn't breathe. His mind was still teetering between the dream he was having and reality. Then everything caught up to him. The bed. The sweat soaked sheets. The arms around him. He wasn't alone. It was much too dark. He closed his eyes, willing his whirling thoughts to cease so he could think. He was still riding the dream, even if he already couldn't recall exactly what happened. The feelings, though, that the dream invoked were still very much present inside of him, through him, causing him to feel foreign underneath his own skin.

Then he felt it: heat against his back and an arm tightening over his stomach. He couldn't move. He was trapped. He had to get out. Blindly, in the dark, he struggled free. His fist met skin. Smack. His knee met something hard. The person made a sound but Ryan was too caught up with trying to get away to listen. He pushed out against something that gave way. An "omph" sounded into the distance as the other person fell to the floor. A light came on, Jon stood with his arms outstretched, his hands up, like he was surrendering.

"Hey, hey, Ryan, it's me." The words slowly made sense.

"Fuck, Jon, what?" Ryan shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He ran his hand through his hair. He tried to make sense of what happened. He couldn't. How could he forget Jon? Why did he feel so wrong? His chest tightened. He opened his eyes to see Jon slowly coming towards him. "Maybe, maybe I need to be alone right now. I hurt you, fuck!"

"I'm okay, Ry, are you?" Jon took a step forward.

Ryan shrank back. "It's... Jon I don't think I can do this right now."

Jon dropped his hands to the side. "I--okay, I'll be in the guest room. I'm--It's okay, you know?"

Ryan didn't say anything. A minute passed in silence. Jon sighed and walked out the door. He closed it gently behind him.

Ryan fell to the bed and closed his eyes. Instantly, flashes of images played in his mind. He saw the bruises that would appear on Jon's body in the morning. His mind swirled on the image of blood that ran down Jon's arm. How did that happen? He couldn't remember. He didn't realize he was crying until he looked up to the sound of something being smashed out into the hallway, his vision blurred when he tried to focus on his surroundings. "Jon?" Ryan got up and walked towards the door.

"I'm okay." Jon had called out from the other side of the door. "I'm sorry."

Ryan opened the door to see Jon standing three feet away, looking at his hand, or where his hand would have been had it not been stuck inside the wall. "Fuck, Jon."

"I... I don't know what happened."

Ryan closed the distance between them as he helped Jon pull his hand out. "I think you hit the beam, can you move your fingers?"

Jon wiggled his fingers, but winced. "It's nothing." Blood dripped to the floor.

Ryan led Jon to the bathroom to clean his wound. "You know, I thought in relationships it's best if only one person is insane."

"Where's the fun in that?" Jon smiled. Laughing now at what had happened.

Ryan shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. This..." Jon gestured towards his hand. "This had nothing to do with you. Nothing. This is just me being stupid.

Ryan shook his head.


"Brendon and I had the talk," Jon said, pulling Ryan out of his thoughts.

Ryan blinked and glanced at Jon, who kept his eyes on the road.

"He says he'll kill me if I mess things up with you." Jon smiled as he met Ryan's gaze.

Ryan snorted. "He said that?"

"Yeah, but as it is, Spencer is the first in line to get the job done. I'm not sure if I should be touched by their protectiveness over you or offended that they didn't offer me the same protection if you were to mess things up."

"I think you should be touched. It's a beautiful sentiment." Ryan smiled. "Also, if they did offer you the same protection, I probably should be running for my life right now."

"You didn't mess things up with me."

"I don't want to mess things up with you."

Jon met his eyes for a brief moment and smiled before his eyes turned back to the road.

Ryan felt a tug in his chest. He realized, now, looking at Jon, that this moment that had passed between them signified something. He didn't know what it was yet, but he felt it. Apart from that, he felt older, more grown up. He liked that feeling.

"So, you gonna tell Brendon about what happened? He's probably going to explode if he doesn't get a chance to speak with you."

"I'll tell him once we get inside." Ryan looked out the window as Jon pulled to a stop outside their house.

Jon nodded as he again met Ryan's gaze. "You know, no matter what the results of the tests, Ry, everything between us will still be the same."

Ryan closed his eyes, he didn't realize how much he needed to hear those words. It had been something that scared him shitless. The fear of losing Jon because of the unknown. For the past few days, the attack had taken over his mind. Although it was painful to think about, that's all he could do. He wanted to piece the night together and when he realized there was a definite missing piece due to loss time, he became obsessed with trying to recall it. He knew that during the attack he had blacked out at some point due to the pain, or perhaps he was simply forcing his mind and body to shut down as to not feel the attack. Either way, he didn't know what happened during those moments that he lost. Did the lost time equate seconds or minutes? The amount of time could mean anything and everything. As anything and everything could have happened in that time.

Ryan looked at Jon, took a breath. "Thanks." And it was all he could say.

Jon nodded. He squeezed Ryan's hand before he moved to get out of the car.

"Hey, Jon."

"Yeah?" He turned back to face Ryan.

"I love you, you know? Love you so much." Ryan bit his lip. The words seemed much too small for the feelings he felt for Jon. Much too small and not enough.

Jon moved back into the car to press his lips against Ryan's. "I love you, too."

TBC

A/N: One more part!

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March 2012

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