[FIC] When Darkness Falls 3/?

[makingamochrie.livejournal.com]

Hello, everyone (even a certain someone who promised me feedback by today and I awaken to an empty mailbox *cough*clayangel*cough).  Hope everyone's doing well.  Me, I feel like Colin's favorite director word.  Ah well.  Here's more!  Still dark, but hey, we have a game of FREEZE TAG!  And who can ever pass up a game of FREEZE TAG, huh?  Well, apparently, Colin can, but it's MY story, so he's PLAYING it.

TITLE:  When Darkness Falls
PART: 3/?  Have no earthly idea
PAIRING:  Ryan/Colin (past)  But wait till you get to NEXT chapter.  Tee hee.  *g*
RATING:  PG.
DISCLAIMER:  FICTION.  I do not own them on a boat. I do not own them in a moat.  I do not own them on a flea. I do not own them in a tree.  I do not own their 'give a damn', I do not own them, Sam I Am.  FICTION
SUMMARY:  All  that and a game of FREEZE TAG!

“Drew, two minutes till your monologue.”

 

Drew nodded, then turned to his castmates.  “Ok, guys, we all know this is going to be fucking rough.  But we’re all professionals, and we’re doing it for a good cause, so let’s just…do the best we can.”

 

It wasn’t as inspired as his speeches usually were, but everyone understood and nodded their acceptance.  He nodded back, then left.

 

“I’ll go after Ryan,” Colin sighed, only to be stopped by Greg’s hand on his arm.

 

“Let me.”

 

“Greg….”

 

“Don’t worry.  I’m not gonna hurt him.  Much.”

 

“Greg, please.”

 

“Col, chill, alright?  I’ll be right back.”  He smirked.  “Unless you’d like me to send Bradley here after him.”

 

Brad growled.  It was a frighteningly real one.

 

“Fine,” Colin replied, holding up his hands.  “Just…don’t make things any worse than they already are, ok?  Please?”

 

“That, my friend, would be very hard to do.”

 

And he left.

 

*******

 

Ryan stood outside the theater, one leg cocked back, foot resting against the exterior wall, a cigarette burning between his fingers.  The door squealed softly open, and he could tell who his visitor was without even having to look.  He did anyway.  “You wanna hit me?  Kill me?  Go ahead.  I deserve it.”

 

“Can the martyr shit, Stiles. It doesn’t work on you.”

 

“What do you want me to say, Greg?  That I fucked up?  I did. Royally.  That I broke the heart of a good man?  The best man I’ve ever known?  I did that, too.  That I took his love for me and crushed it into a million pieces, then stomped on it, then dropped my pants and shit on it?  Yeah, I did that, too.  Willingly.  Don’t ask for any excuses, because I don’t fucking have any.  I did it all.  Me. With both eyes wide the fuck open.”

 

“Do you know what he was like that night?” Greg mused softly, contemplatively.  “They have a saying in the death houses.  ‘Dead man walking’.  And that’s what he was.  Dead.  Just too fucking stubborn to lie down and do it decently.”  He shook his head.  “It was like someone had reached in and taken that light that always shines out of his eyes and just…click!...snapped it off.  There was nothing there, man.  Nothing at all.”  He lit his own cigarette, cupping the light against the gentle breeze, and took in a deep inhale, chuffing the smoke out to fog the air around him for a moment.  “It took a bunch of us,” he continued in that same soft, contemplative voice, “Drew, Brad, me, couple others, a long, long time to help bring that light back.”  He turned to face Ryan then, eyes snapping fire behind his glasses.  “And I will be good goddamned if you snuff it out again, Stiles.”

 

“You don’t have to worry,” Ryan replied, dropping his cigarette and crushing it savagely beneath his shoe.  The sleeves of their shirts brushed as Ryan made his way back into the building.  “Because I’ll kill myself before I ever let that happen.”

 

And as Greg stood there watching the door close, he knew that Ryan had meant every word he said.

 

“Fuck,” he breathed before he, too, crushed his butt beneath the heal of his shoe.  “Welcome to Whose Fucked Up Fucking Life is it Anyway?  The soap opera you couldn’t pay people to watch.”

 

“C’mon!” Kathy Greenwood frantically hailed, waving her arms wildly as he jogged down the dim hallway.  “Drew’s already starting the introductions!”

 

“Don’t get your thong in a knot, man, I’m here.”  He pushed himself toward the front of the line and slipped in behind Brad.  Kathy breathlessly slipped in front of Brad. “Break a leg, Brad-man,” he whispered.

 

“You too,” Brad replied before his name was called and he jogged out onto the stage and into the lights, smiling and waving to the cheering crowd.

 

“Greg Proops, everybody!  Greg Proops!!!”

 

Greg ran out, grinning and waving, then flipping the bird to some nutjob who had the nerve to boo him.  Drunk asshole.

 

“Next, that bald guy from Canada…what’s his name?  Oh, yeah!  Colin Mochrie!  Colin!!”

 

The crowd, already cheering wildly, jumped to its feet as Colin jogged on, waving to them, and then dispensing hugs to everyone down the line.

 

“And last, and certainly least, the tallest thing to come out of Washington since the Redwoods died out, Ryan Stiles!”

 

Ryan waved briefly to the roaring hometown crowd, then walked slump-shouldered past his castmates, gaze glued to his shoes.  When he tried to pass Colin, he was grabbed and pulled into a tight hug, which generated more wild cheering, and a few catcalls as well.  “Let’s do this thing!” Colin whispered.

 

Ryan dropped his head a little, briefly touching it to Colin’s.  His smile was tiny, but it was there.  “Yeah.  Let’s do it.”

 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, the first game we’re going to play for you tonight is called Freeze Tag.  And the two folks who are going to start this game will be….”  He looked quickly over to Colin, who gave him a slight nod.  “…Colin and Ryan, everybody!  Colin and Ryan!”

 

The cheers raised the rafters as the duo came down to center stage, standing comfortably next to one another as if nothing untoward had ever passed between them.  Colin was wearing his trademark smile.  Ryan was staring down at his shoes, his lips moving slightly as he murmured exhortation after exhortation to himself to just get back in the game and not blow it for everyone else.

 

“Ok, give me a non sexual position for Colin to assume.”

 

“Missionary!” was the first answer, sparking off more laughter.  Drew rolled his eyes and was about to speak when Colin straightened and put his hands together in front of him, chest height, as if praying.

 

“There’s your missionary!” Drew shouted out, laughing.  “Ok, you guys are college students, so I’m assuming that you understand the basic concepts of English.  Then again, considering where we are….”

 

Cheers, boos, and everything in between.

 

“Give me a non sexual position for Ryan to assume.”

 

“Doggy style!”

 

Sighing, Ryan played along, got down on all fours, and barked a couple of times.  And there was laughter, and suddenly, his craving for a drink didn’t seem quite so strong.  He smiled slightly and barked again.  More cheers, and he finally gave up and let the sensation of being on stage, the thing he loved best, wash over him, casting aside the cravings, and the guilt, and everything else.  For the first time in a very long while, he didn’t let himself think, or feel. He simply let himself be.

 

“Alright, gentlemen, you have your positions.  Start the scene.”

 

“Oh, Lord,” Colin ‘prayed’, closing his eyes tight.  “Please don’t let my great Great Dane puppy Phil here poop and pee all over the floor while I’m gone.  I’m tired of all the presents he leaves me.”

 

“Roo?”  Ryan said, then proceeded to crawl over to Colin, ‘sit up’ and begin humping his leg.  “Roo! Roo!  Roo!”

 

The audience screamed with laughter.

 

“Oh, and about that leg humping thing, Lord, if you could do anything about that, I’d be most appreciative.  Either that, or I’m going to have to pay to have his nuts cut off, and I’m a little short on cash at the moment.”

 

“ROOO?” Ryan screamed, then cupped both hands over his crotch, eyes wide and bulging.

 

“FREEZE!” Chip shouted and tagged Colin out, assuming his position.  He bent forward slightly at the waist, smiling.  “Billy, sweetheart, mommy told you that if you kept on doing that nasty thing with yourself, your hands were going to get stuck there.”

 

“FREEZE!” Drew shouted loudly to be heard over the audience’s laughter.  He tagged Chip out and assumed his position.  “C’mon, Eve!  Take off that stupid fig leaf.  I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

 

Smirking, Ryan removed his hands from his crotch, and Drew straightened abruptly, eyes wide, arms flung up in surprise.  “Holy shit!!”  He looked up.  “Yo, man, how come you made hers bigger than mine?”

 

“Freeze!” Colin called out, walking back onto the stage and tagging out Ryan, then assuming his position.  He glared up at Drew.  “Would you mind getting me out of this damn quicksand?”

 

“FREEZE!” Jeff yelled, tagging out Drew.

 

“FREEZE!” Kathy K. yelled, strolling out onto the stage in all her pink glory and standing before the two men.  “By the power vested in me by myself, I pronounce you, Willy Wonka and you, Oompa Loompa #37, husband and little person.  You may now kiss the Oompa Loompa.”

 

Grinning, Jeff bent forward, but just as he was about to kiss Colin, Greg shouted “FREEZE!” and tagged him out.

 

Smirking, Greg bent over and kissed Colin, to the screams of the audience, though it hadn’t lasted but two seconds when “FREEZE” came from Brad, who tagged Greg out and kissed Colin himself.

 

That one lasted a little longer, before Kathy G.’s more petite “Freeze!” came in, but when she tagged Brad, he refused to budge.  The crowd roared as Kathy pulled and tugged, even going so far as to plant her foot against Brad’s ass while trying to pull him away, and nothing worked.  So, finally, she shrugged and simply walked around to Colin’s other side, where she too bent over and started kissing him.

 

By this time, Colin was blushing so furiously that the top of his head, the only thing anyone could see, was maroon. Chip was near to peeing himself, and Jeff wasn’t far behind.

 

Never one to turn away from some kissing action, Drew shouted, “FREEZE!” and tagged an immensely grateful Colin out.  The audience convulsed with laughter as Brad, who had definitely been into the job he was doing, now looked as if he’d just bitten into a lemon. 

 

“FREEZE!” Ryan said, striding onto the stage and tagging out Kathy K.  “Guys,” he said, moving closer and bending forward, “you’re doing this all wrong.  If you want luck from this Buddha statue, you have to rub him here.” 

 

“LOWER!” shouted the audience as Ryan began rubbing Drew’s large belly.  Ryan rolled his eyes but didn’t comment.

 

“Yeah!” Drew agreed. “Lower!”

 

“FREEZE!” Jeff yelled out, and tagged Drew, replacing him and smirking.

 

“FREEZE!” Greg shouted immediately thereafter, tagging out Ryan.  “Yo, Buddha man, where’d your belly go?”

 

“Lower,” Jeff purred.

 

The audience howled.

 

Greg simply couldn’t pass up a challenge like that.  Leering, he slowly lowered his hand until he was cupping Jeff’s package.  “Oh my,” he breathed.  “Buddha statue, what a big…belly…you have!”

 

“Rub it and I’ll grant you any wish you desire,” Jeff moaned.

 

The audience howled.  The cast howled.  Colin just covered his face and shook his head.  He felt a hand on his shoulder, and when he looked up into Ryan’s eyes, it was as if the three years standing between them, and all the heartache before that, had simply vanished.  He remembered an interview, one time, when Ryan had said that when the two of them met up again after a long absence, it was like no time had passed at all, and he was right. 

 

But then Ryan blinked, and the shadows once again filled his eyes, and the moment was over.  Ryan began to lift his hand, but Colin grabbed it.  “Are you okay?”

 

Ryan nodded.  His head cocked toward the front of the stage, and the crowd beyond.  “Being here…it helps.”

 

“I know,” Colin replied, smiling as he gently squeezed Ryan’s hand.  “It’s an addiction we’ve always shared.”

 

They looked at one another for long moments, each feeling the tenuous beginnings of a rapprochement between them.

 

Then the game ended and the cast rushed back toward both men, sweeping Colin away with them, Brad and Greg planting kisses on his flushed cheeks as the others joked with Jeff about his penis becoming Aladdin’s lamp and all the wishes that had sprouted out of it.  Ryan looked on with the expression of a penniless child staring into the window of a candy shop.  He turned his head slightly as he felt Drew’s presence by his side.

 

“You looked good out there,” the smaller man murmured.

 

Ryan shrugged, still staring forlornly a the laughing crowd razzing Colin and Jeff mercilessly.  “It’ll take awhile, I guess.”  

 

“First step’s always the hardest,” Drew replied.  “It’ll get better from here.  You’ll see.”

 

“I don’t know if I believe that anymore,” Ryan whispered as he was called out to begin the second game.

 

*******

 

The show had gone much better than anyone had dared hope, and the mood back in the ‘green room’ afterward was one of jubilant excitement.  The cast, save one, was packed tightly together, laughing and jumping like a crowd of teenagers, riding out the incredible high of performing together, and doing it well.

 

Ryan was the lone bystander.  His high had left him quite awhile ago and the urge for a drink was back, stronger than ever.  His fists clenched and unclenched, keeping time with his jaw.  If there had been any liquor in that room, he would have downed it all.  Of that, he had no doubt in his mind.

 

Slipping around the back of the milling knot, Colin approached him, an unopened bottle of cold water in his hand. 

 

“If that doesn’t have any alcohol in it,” Ryan growled, “I’m not interested.”

 

Shrugging, Colin remained where he was, bottle in hand. 

 

Eventually, Ryan gave in, cracked the seal, and drained the entire bottle in a few huge gulps.  “There.  Happy?”

 

The smile dropped from Colin’s face.  “You know?  I doubt that’s even possible anymore.”  Then he turned and exited the room.

 

Giving Ryan a glare hot enough to smelt metal, Brad scurried after Colin.  Ryan started as a hand clapped down on his back.  “Way to go, champ,” Greg said, all smiling sarcasm.  “Going dry sure hasn’t softened your edges any.”

 

“Yours are sharp enough for the both of us,” Ryan growled before also stalking from the room.

 

Greg just stood there, shaking his head.  “What a wonderful trip this is going to be.”

 

*******

to be continued.  You're it!!