Work Text:
Worried.
I sit behind my desk tapping my fingers. Every now and then I'll superstitiously glance towards Ryan. I can tell he's anxious, eyes flicking around, hand coming up to rub under his nose.
I overheard him making plans to attend a party tonight in a seedy little bar across town. I'm not stupid,
I know what he got up to at these parties. I feel the anger bubbling under the surface. I pinch the bridge of my nose and glance up again. He's so young and vibrant he could really do big things if he keeps it together.
I'm on a call when he leaves and I'm so tempted to just hang up on Mr. Schmidt, who loves to yammer at you endlessly, and I would too but he's a huge client and Dwight is staring me down across the desk, jealous I got the call. It takes an hour "Mmhmming" Mr. Schmidt before I'm able to leave. Frustrated I kick and punch the wall of the elevator. Running a hand through my hair I take a deep breath trying to calm down. It's fine I know where he's at I tell myself walking to my car.
It takes roughly twenty minutes to get across town and once I find the bar it's fairly packed. I wander inside and start
my search for Ryan.
After fifteen minutes I spot him in a booth in the back. Slouched down in his seat, bloodshot eyes staring at the ceiling, he's alone for the moment. I make my way over sitting down heavily across from him.
"Well, fancy meeting you here," I drawl.
He cringes "No office people," he pleads.
"What are you doing here Ryan?"
He scoffs "well that should be fairly obvious."
I nod my head angry "Yeah. Yeah, it should." I say grabbing his wrist.
"What are doing!" He tries to pull away but I tighten my grip
"Taking you home."
"You have no right!" he says smoldering.
But I don't care. I'm not going to sit back and watch him self destruct. "No, you have no right!" I spit
"You're young and bright, Ryan. You could probably run your own company one day don't throw that away on crap bars and cocaine," I hiss yanking him to his feet.
His whole body is stiff with anger but he says nothing as I lead him to the door.
He angrily flops down in the passengers seat refusing to look at me. That’s fine with me.
It's a quite ride back to my place, I decide to take him there to dry out. By the time we get there his head's hanging down in sleep. I sigh, tiredly scrubbing my face.
Walking around the car I pull his door open. Rubbing his shoulder I call his name. He jerks awake and leans out the door hurling. I scramble back to keep from getting it on me.
"Wonderful." I say dryly.
When he's finished I reach in grabbing his arm to help him out "Watch your step." I mutter.
"Sorry." He slurs, standing.
Looking down I notice his nose is running and bleeding. Crap, I huff out a breath in irritation. Why? Why would he do this to himself I wonder.
Resigned I grab a tissue from my pocket and hold it to his nose.
He says nothing as I lead him inside and straight to the couch.
"Here sit down."
He does. Any fight from earlier seems to be drained out of him, sitting there with his head tipped back. I pull the tissue away and check that the bleeding's stopped. His nose is crusted white mingled with red.
I sigh. Standing and heading to the kitchen for a damp cloth, I also grab a bottle of water and a few protein bars.
Returning, I sit the water and protein bars on the coffee table before gently attacking his nose with the cloth. He tries to squirm away.
"Sit still!" I order.
His eyes widen and he falls still. Once I'm satisfied that his nose is clean I hand him a protein bar.
"Eat."
He hesitates for a minute before fumbling with the wrapper. After he eats two I pass him the water which he downs quickly. Minutes tick by in silence before he nervously glances over.
"I'm sorry." He whispers. His eyes shining and pleading, like he's begging me to understand. But I don't, not really.
"Look, Ry, we'll talk about it in the morning, okay?"
He nods.
"It's late, let's just try and get some sleep." I say standing.
A choked sound makes it's way out his throat.
"What?" I ask looking back.
He shakes his head.
"What?" I repeat.
His hands fidget in his lap and he refuses to look at me.
"Just spit it out." I huff exasperated.
"I don't like sleeping alone during a crash." He blurts.
I sigh staring at the ceiling for several moments contemplating.
"Can you make it up the stairs?" I ask finally.
He gives a jerky nod and struggles to his feet swaying a bit. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and help him slowly up the stairs.
Turning the blankets down on the bed I gesture for him to climb in. Once he snuggles down I turn out the light and join him.
"Thanks Jim." He says quietly.
"Just sleep." I respond wearily.
He tosses for several minutes before I blindly reach out and pin his arms.
He freezes, breath hitching as tug him to my chest.
I feel his stuttering breath against my chest before he snuggles closer relaxing.
I gently stroke his back till he falls asleep. I love this kid, I think, holding him close. And I'm not going to let him ruin his life I vow before falling asleep.