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Throughout the course of their friendship, Shane has been granted the privilege of acquainting himself with Ryan’s reactions in numerous situations. So much so that he’s generally able to somewhat predict how he’s going to react or what he’s going to think by comparing specific scenarios with similar events that have occurred previously.
For someone who experiences a significant amount of difficulty relating to others, relying on statistics, probabilities and past facts greatly helps in making better decisions on what to do. It’s taxing, considering he has to do that with most of the people he wants to keep in his life, but all in all he decides that going the extra mile is well worth it since it keeps his interpersonal relationships less bumpy.
The thing is, while Shane’s able to better handle his social life through observation, it doesn’t work 100% of the time. Try as he might, there will still be times where he feels the same hideous burn of helplessness because he simply doesn’t understand what to do. There will still be times where he’ll find himself standing awkwardly on the sidelines, hesitant to speak or do anything, because he isn’t sure if it’ll end up blowing up in his face and making things worse.
By now, he’s painstakingly collated a repertoire of words he could use and things he could do depending on the visual cues he receives from Ryan. But none of what he’d taken to heart could sufficiently prepare him for this. Ryan’s hunched over in his seat, hands scrubbing at his face vigorously, tight-lipped. He’d been in the same position for close to ten minutes now and there’s no one Shane could consult about this. If anything, people usually came to him for suggestions when Ryan is in a mood.
This was unusual. He’s not terrified like he usually was whenever they visit supposedly haunted locations. In fact, he’d been acting weird the whole night. Joining Shane in taunting the spirits with a reckless abandon that he could describe as hysterical. Restless, always on the move as if he couldn’t bear to stop for a single second. The moment they did stop however, the moment the crew leaves them to spend the night on location, Ryan breaks.
Shane had been about to make a comment about how Ryan’s acting extra brave tonight in the hopes of goading him, steering him back to their usual one-two punchline bit. Then he hears a sniffle. Belatedly, he realises that Ryan’s crying and the knowledge in itself is jarring. Not that Shane hasn’t witnessed his friend crying before but not like this. Never like this. Ryan looked like he wants nothing better than to curl into himself and disappear.
He’s crying so hard Shane doesn’t think he heard him call his name. Trepidation curled it’s cold fists against his abdomen as he makes his way over, and awkwardly stoops next to him. His own hands hovered with uncertainty before Shane bites the bullet and places them on broad shoulders. “Ryan.” He tries again. “Hey. Hey it’s okay, little guy.” Unable to comprehend the source of distress, he falls back on what he does know. Most people generally react better to soothing gestures when they’re crying, so he rubs his back and leans closer so that their sides are pressed up against each other.
But as Ryan continues to cry, the disquiet and silent panic he feels only serves to grow. Something is wrong. Something is wrong and Shane doesn’t know what to do. None of the things he remembers to do or say works and he can’t reach into Ryan to remove the source even if he wants to, just so his friend wouldn’t feel distress on such a magnitude again. What was he supposed to do? He wants Ryan to stop, he wants him to feel better. But this isn’t about him- he knows that much. What is he supposed to do?
“Ryan. Talk to me, please. Tell me-” For the first time in a very long while, Shane pleads. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this.” He hates this. He’s supposed to be the unflappable one out of the both of them but here he is. To him, there are more things in this world to fear than ghosts and spirits. This is one of them. Stuck with helplessness, unable to understand, unable to reach someone he actually gives a damn about. “I don’t know what to do.” His voice trembles when he admits the awful truth.
But that seemed to work for some odd reason Shane doesn’t comprehend, because Ryan’s surging forward and seizing him by his jacket, pitching them off balance. Acting on reflex, he reaches out with both hands to steady his companion who’s pressing his face against his chest, a grunt escaping when his his side makes contact with the ground. He feels fingers scrabble and latch onto the fabric on his back, squeezing tight.
“Like this.” His friend’s voice is hoarse when he manages to find words. “Just. Stay like this for a while. Please.”
Shane inhales shakily. “Okay.” He tucks Ryan closer to himself. Imagines hollowing the planes of his own body just so he could keep him inside, where it’s safe from all the things that could potentially hurt him. “Okay.”
He doesn’t know how long they stayed like that for. Shane holds onto Ryan until his breathing eases. At some point, he thinks his companion has already stopped crying but he’s loathe to release him and Ryan didn’t ask to be let go, so he doesn’t. When he does finally lift his head to look at Shane, they were red-rimmed under what little light their flashlights could generate but at least he’s looking considerably less distraught.
“You good?”
“Yeah.”
Shane pauses, takes a second to deliberate before hesitantly speaking.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Nah. Not here.”
“Alright, that’s fair.”
Shane quiets and remembers how to breathe again. Casting his gaze upwards, he makes a decision. Reluctantly and carefully, he releases Ryan and clambers to his feet. “Come on. I think we have enough footage, let’s go out for a bit.” At the mention of footage, Ryan appears to have remembered that the cameras had been recording still because he tenses and Shane’s desperate to erase that expression of his face again. It’s not fun when it’s not caused by him. It’s not fun when he knows it’s not going to be something his friend could easily bounce back from.
“We can delete it. Come on.”
The tension in him bleeds out when a warm hand reaches out for his own and he’s allowed to pull Ryan to his feet. The walk outside is a short one done in silence. He doesn’t let go of Ryan’s hand until they reach the front of the house. To it’s credit, the porch stair railing only creaked under his weight when he clambers onto it and reaches up.
“Wait- what are you doing?? Get down here, you’re gonna fall!”
“No it’s fine, I got this.” Shane’s able to grab a firm hold of the roof. While he’s not the most athletic of individuals, he still manages to lift himself upwards and get his legs on top despite Ryan’s fretting and exasperation. “See? Nailed it. Now get up here.”
“You want the both of us to get up on the roof of an old ass haunted building that’s not been maintained for years? Are you crazy? The roof might collapse!”
“Or it might not.” Shane wiggled his eyebrows for comedic effect and earns yet another exasperated sigh from Ryan. This is good. This is…better. Anything’s better than…that. “Oh don’t be such a wimp. It’ll be fine!”
“I’m not being a wimp, I’m being practical about shit, jackass.” His lips curved into a grin when Ryan finally stalks forward and climbs onto the railing with a disgruntled sigh. “Alright fine, but if the ceiling does cave in, it’ll be your fault.”
Through their combined efforts, Ryan’s path to getting on the roof is a lot easier.
“See? Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Shut up, Shane.”
The winds pinched at their cheeks, caressing gently as it passes through, much like a lover would. They stayed up there, looking down at the landscape below. Shane distracts Ryan with trivia about the stars and their history, helping him map out the ones he knew and bullshitting through the ones he doesn’t. With each passing moment they spend out on the roof, Ryan slowly settles into himself. Comfortable territory.
It’s nearing daybreak when Ryan finally speaks in a faltering hushed voice. He talks about the pressures that had been steadily building up- tiny things that weighed on him with each passing day, festering insecurities he’d been trying to work through, things he’d been pushing aside because they shouldn’t matter now after all these years. And all of it had crossed into too much levels when he received bad news within his extended family.
Part of Shane feels bad for calling himself a friend and not noticing that Ryan has been struggling with things. Then again, there are things that remain hard to talk about no matter how close one is. It’s only recently that he was able to share his own personal demons (hah!) too. Part of him even resents the fact that others were able to affect Ryan this much. If he had the choice, he’d have made it so that he wouldn’t have to deal with all that. But that’s just not feasible.
“That’s rough, buddy.” The remark tumbles out and he lifts a hand to wave off Ryan’s scandalised expression (I talk about deep shit and you’re quoting Avatar at me right now???). “I don’t know what to say, okay? I don’t always have the answers or right responses to things. It sucks that you have to experience stuff like that and I mean that. I just don’t know how to make it better. And I want to.”
He makes an effort to make eye contact, grimacing at the uncomfortable sensation of things being too raw. Feeling like every little admission is flaying him open. But there’s nothing else he could give that could match up to Ryan’s vulnerabilities except sincerity. So Shane refocuses and carries on.
“I don’t always give a damn about people. But I do. Care about you, I mean. You’re important…to me. You must know that. And I don’t want you to hurt- not in that kind of way. I just…How do I…make it better? How do I fix things?”
Brutal honesty is more of Ryan’s thing than his. He’s more of careful word usage and planning. But speaking Ryan’s language once in a while isn’t such a bad thing, especially when he could get such an expression out of his companion. Cheeks stained a ruddy colour as he struggles not to smile, eyes soft with something that has Shane’s insides lighting up with a tepid sensation akin to pins and needles.
“Wow you’re really bad at this, aren’t you?” A snort of amusement escaped Ryan and he breaks eye contact. But he’s taken to leaning against Shane again, closer than ever, and Shane could feel each inhale he takes. “Just….I don’t know, be here I guess. All of this.”
He’s jostled slightly when Ryan gestures between them and meets his gaze again. “This is good, Shane. You asking. You being here.” He watches Ryan swallow and reach out to take his hand. Nervous. “You’re…fuck it I’m just going to say it- You mean a lot to me too, man. And…I’d let you know. You don’t have to guess. I’ll let you know when you ask.”
“Is that a promise?” Shane dimly registers that he’s smiling when he interlaces their fingers together and he’s definitely sure he’s smiling when Ryan squeezes. “Something like that.”
“What about you though? Yeah, you. Don’t think this is just going to be some one way street deal. I want to know how to uh- do for you too.”
“…Time. I usually just need time by myself. I’ll come back when I’m ready to talk.”
“Okay. Hey, Shane?”
He gets a hum from him, too preoccupied with running his free hand through Ryan’s hair. Since when had Ryan laid his head down into his lap? Not that he minds. Then again that should bother him- it doesn’t.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, Ryan.”