Authors: Crystal Rose
Brendon nodded. “I can't handle loud noises if I'm not prepared,” he admitted.
“But Kenneth is drinking the biggest part of the time. Last week he called from some chick's house saying he didn't remember getting there. He sounded almost scared.” He sighed. “He's looking rough. I don't think he's eating. And his drinking is getting worse and worse.”
“He's drinking and driving,” Ryan said. They both looked at each other. “What are we going to do?”
***
Patrick was on board with their plan. He saw the difference in Kenneth too. All three were sitting at the bar waiting for Kenneth to get in. He refused to stay with Ryan or Patrick. Instead he was staying at a local motel.
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“You know what? Fuck this. Let's go.” Patrick grabbed the keys to Mark's truck.
They all piled in and went to see their friend.
When they got there Ryan winced. Kenneth's car was double parked and it looked like he hadn't bothered to shut the door. The car had been ransacked already.
“Fuck.”
“Room 231,” Brendon said.
They all got to the room door after locking Kenneth's car up. Ryan started pounding. When that did no good Patrick started pecking on the window. And Brendon began yelling.
The door opened slowly. “Y'all are worse than a woman. Fuck,” Kenneth groaned.
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They all went in and looked at the place. Four bottles of cheap whiskey sat on the table; one had already been drunk.
“Dude!” Brendon exclaimed. “When did you have time to drink a bottle of Jack?”
“I'm good like that,” Kenneth said roughly.
All three looked at each other. Patrick was the one who started.
“Kenneth...”
“Let's not do this, guys. I'm not stupid. Is this your version of an intervention?”
he asked. His voice was so low that all three had to strain to hear him.
“It's our version of we don't want to watch you to kill yourself,” Patrick said bluntly.
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Kenneth let out a sound that indicated he didn't buy it. “Get real. I...I can stop at any time.”
“Then do it now,” Ryan said. They had all sat down with him, on his level.
Kenneth was going to feel attacked enough.
“I don't
want
to.” Ryan thought Kenneth sounded child like. He could tell everyone else did too.
“Dude...you have to get some help,” Brendon said gently. “You're my battle buddy. I won't let you drink yourself stupid.”
“Too late,” Kenneth said, grabbing one of the bottles. He opened the seal and looked at them as he took a long drink. “I'm fine.”
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“Uh huh. Kenneth, we just spent the better part of the night drunk off our asses.
When did you get the booze?”
“I brought it with me,” Kenneth said, shrugging. “Y'all don't get it.”
“What don't we get?” Patrick asked.
“You just wouldn't get it...guys let's not...” Kenneth started and then stopped.
Ryan could see Kenneth was closing off. He did it so quickly that Ryan knew that he was about to blow a gasket. That was the thing about Kenneth. He could go from zero to sixty in seconds flat.
“Ya know what? I don't feel like doing this today,” Kenneth hissed.
“You don't have a choice,” Brendon said as gently as he could.
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“Fuck you, Murray.” Kenneth snarled. “You wanna know?”
“Yes, we want to know,” Ryan replied, his voice soft and low like he was talking to an injured animal.
“Really? Okay, how many of you were there when your buddies got hit?”
All three of them had; just different versions.
“Fine, then. How many of you were asked to hold a wound? None? Yeah that's because that’s where a combat medic comes in. We get to hold wounds closed. Find an artery to pinch so we don't fucking lose some bastard because Ali Baba had his good day.” Kenneth looked like he was going to cry. “We have to try and save limbs because we don't want our buddies to...Fuck, half the time we can't even save them.”
Ryan winced. All three of them had seen their share of shit. But Ryan couldn't imagine what Kenneth went through.
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“My buddy in AIT always said we were like all the kings men. We always got to put Humpty Dumpty back together again...but you know what? Sometimes you can't put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Sometimes he just fucking dies and there isn't jack you can do about it.” Kenneth's voice was high, too high. His eyes looked wild.
“Kenneth...” Brendon started.
“No, you wanted to know. This is it. No matter what I do I can't save the ones I lost. Those men...God, some of them were just boys...they’re all gone. They just died.
I...I couldn't...God it's so hard.” That's when Kenneth began to cry. “I...just want them...to live. I don't want to see them anymore.” Kenneth sobbed hard. So hard that he couldn't stand. Brendon, Patrick and Ryan all put their arms around him. Cocooning him in.
They would keep the world at bay for their friend.
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***
The next day Ryan had to go to work. Brendon had decided to bunk with Kenneth. Kenneth was still over the edge and no one wanted to leave him alone. But Ryan was back in formation after morning PT. He was thankful no one said anything about the faded hickey on his neck. At least until Phillip got a good look at it after they got finished with their run.
“Looks like it's fading,” Phillip had commented.
“Yeah, hickies do that,” Ryan said reasonably. He looked at the former drill sergeant. If there was anyone in the world that would know what to do with Kenneth it would be Phillip. But he couldn't ask. Not yet. He couldn't betray Kenneth's trust.
“I'll have to try harder next time.”
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Besides, it wouldn't matter because Ryan was going to kill Phillip. The man was too cocky for his own good. Phillip had the ability to be cocky and not make everyone around him hate him. He always had that goofier than hell smile. The one he was currently beaming at him.
“You're a dick, ya know that?” Ryan asked.
“I know. It's good to see the whole Drill Sergeant thing is finally leaving you. I was worried I was gonna have to break old Smoky Bear out.” Ryan's grin took a turn to become dark and seductive. Ryan really fucking hated him.
“Putting on your cadre cover isn't gonna scare me anymore, Grabowski.” Ryan almost choked on the words. God, he really was fucked up. The mental image of Phillip in his rounded brown hat made him nearly groan. If he didn’t watch out his glasses were gonna fog up.
“Nope, but it will turn you on,” Phillip retorted.
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“Whatever. I think you have the world’s best freaking ego.”
“Aww, Freckles, you're hurting my feelings. The only way you can make it up to me is by buying me lunch.”
“Get real,” Ryan muttered, strolling to his truck.
“No I'm for reals!” Phillip chuckled and followed Ryan to his truck. “Don't tell me you don't feel it. I have bite marks to prove you do.”
“It's called lust. We'll get over it.”
“You know, you really are bitchy,” Phillip said, looking at Ryan.
“I guess bitchy equals not easy, to you. Listen Phillip, what we had in basic was...fun.” Hot. Incredible. Sexier than homemade sin. “But, we're both older and we 340
know that sort of shit doesn't last a lifetime-- and I'm kinda done with the part time relationships.” He wanted what Patrick and Mark had.
“Who says I just want to fuck you, Freckles?”
“Your body, Grabowski.”
That ended the conversation. Ryan got into his truck and drove off without waiting for a reply. He sighed when his cell vibrated.
Body wants u. Mind needs U. Dinner w/me?
Ryan was going to say no. Really he was. But his fingers refused to type what he wanted. So instead he sent:
Yeah. When?
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2morrow. 1700. I'll pick u up.
Fine.
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Ryan couldn't believe he was going out with Phillip. He had been tempted to beg off but Kenneth had threatened to tie him up, while Brendon said he would carry him to Mark's truck and Patrick was going to drive him to Phillip's. Any way he looked at it he was fucked. So instead he was sitting in his living room with three daddies doing their best to make sure he looked 'beautiful' without appearing sleazy. At least that's what they were all saying. Brendon picked him up-- as in picked his ass up and carried him into his bedroom with the other two following him.
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“Dude, you are not wearing just a t-shirt.” Brendon clucked his tongue and grabbed a button-down.
“Those jeans are dirty...get them off. Ryan, you're going out on a date with the man of your dreams.
Dirty jeans are not right,” Kenneth bitched, going into his closet. He came out with a pair of black slacks.
Patrick thankfully hadn't said anything, even though he was staring at Ryan's head with a critical eye. He hadn't had a chance to get a haircut since the guys got there.
His flat top had grown out some. But still it looked good. At least he thought it did.
“You really should have gotten a haircut.” Well, there went Ryan's happiness about Patrick not speaking. The shorter man excused himself and went into the front room.
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“Dude, you're right!” Brendon muttered. “God, you're a fucked-up mess.”
Kenneth snorted but agreed. “Put these on.”
“Make sure you have clean underwear on,” Brendon ordered. Hell, the blond went to his dresser and pulled out a clean pair of black boxer briefs. “Too bad you don't have some cute underwear.”
“For fucks sake he's not seeing my underwear. We're just going out to dinner,”
Ryan bitched.
“Yeah, okay. 'Cause you two going on a date is gonna end before six the next morning? Thank God I'm bunking with Kenneth now.”
“You should be happy, Furry. Otherwise you would hear moans and screams coming from Ryanny and his boyfriend.”
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“If I kill both of them do you think I'll go to prison, Patrick?” Ryan asked.
“Yup. Then you're fucked anyways. Just go with it.”
Patrick really wasn't any help at all. There was a knock on his door and Ryan actually flinched. He looked at the watch on his wrist and wondered who it could be. It was only three in the afternoon.
Patrick went and answered it. He came back in with Mark following him.
“I brought the hairdresser.” Patrick smirked.
“Jesus...ya'll are insane,” Ryan bitched as he stepped out of his pants. He grabbed the slacks Kenneth was holding only to have a pair of boxers shoved under his nose.
“Change them,” Brendon ordered.
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“I'm not takin….Kenneth what the fuck are you doing?” Ryan jerked forward when Kenneth pulled his boxers down.
“There, we’ve all seen your cock - it's lovely. Now change your fucking underwear,” Kenneth told him.
Mark chuckled. “Aww, Ryan. You're gonna look bootiful.” He cackled when Ryan blushed and flipped him off. “Do you know I think you're the only man I know who thinks flipping someone off is actually like saying hello.”
“Yeah, fuck you too, Mark,” Ryan said, smirking. He jerked his clean underwear from Brendon and slipped them on. “I should just kick you all out.”
“Ryan, you should remember that I'm gonna be the one with a pair of clippers,”
Mark murmured as he slipped his arm around his boyfriend.
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“But we have your best interests at heart,” Brendon pouted. Ryan blinked and couldn't believe it-- for a moment he saw the old Brendon in there.
“Fine.” He grumbled and grabbed the slacks. He put them on and buttoned them, only to have Kenneth hand him a belt.
“Go get your hair cut so you won't look like a woolly mammoth,” Patrick said.
He followed Mark into his bathroom and sat down on the stool. “You don't have to do this.”
“Yeah, I do. Patrick threatened to cut me off. Dude, I'm not missing out on any sex just for you,” Mark said, grinning. “I cut his hair all the time. Get those specs off.”
Mark smiled the whole time and had his hair cut in ten minutes. It looked good.
“Why am I paying four bucks for a haircut when you can do it for free?”
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“You never asked,” Mark said as he cleaned his equipment. “He thought about you all the time, you know.”
“Pardon?”
“Phillip. He used to wonder about you. He even ran a search on you after you left Basic. When he heard that guy got killed from your unit he freaked out a little bit.”
Ryan didn't know what to say. Well, he did, but it seemed stupid so instead he just nodded. Phillip had looked for him. He had freaked out a bit when he thought that Ryan had gotten killed.
“He never got attached to anyone before or after you. He's the most professional soldier I have ever served with. So if you're thinking he picked a boy out any other time, you would be really wrong. I don't know what it was about you, but he really cares.”
Mark said it offhandedly. He continued cleaning the clippers. “I'm just telling you this so you know. If you hurt him, Ryan, as much as I care for you I will fuck you up.”
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The way Mark said it Ryan believed him. He cleared his throat and nodded.
“So if this isn't what you want, you tell him now before it gets out of hand.”
Ryan nodded again and wondered what he did want. He had looked for Phillip too. He actually would ask about Phillip when he talked to Patrick, in a roundabout way.
He walked back into his bedroom, happy that the other three had gotten bored and vacated it. He slipped on the shirt that Brendon had picked out. He noticed a pair of boots sitting beside his bed and figured that they had been picked out for him as well.
He sighed and put them on. Having those three guys was worse than having a sister.
And Mac could be a pain in the ass when she felt like it.
When he strolled into the living room he turned around and walked right back out.
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“Phillip is going to have a fit when he sees Ryan's apartment. He's somewhat of a clean freak,” Mark was saying.
“It's a pig sty,” Brendon agreed.
“Doesn't look that bad to me,” Patrick offered.
“That's because you both have the same decorator.” Mark rolled his eyes.