Snippet #2457880

Not everything in this world can be solved with a simple talking to. If it could, then world peace could have been achieved with nothing more than a brief conversation, and bullying and crimes would vanish with a simple sigh. While Briton's issues were a little more simplistic than world peace(only barely because teenagers really are that complicated), they did fall under the same category of no simple fix. Oz could reason and coo and hug all day and all night, but, at the end of the day, it wasn't that simple, Briton wouldn't feel magically better. It hadn't worked three years ago, a year ago, a month ago, or any time that Oz had found himself in the position of comforting Briton. That didn't mean, of course, that he wouldn't try. So, when Briton slid down onto the floor, suddenly latching onto Oz and burying his face in his shirt, Oz simply wrapped his arms around him as snugly as a security blanket, rubbing his back soothingly.

He wanted to tell Briton that he wasn't the source of the group's problems, that they all had many, many issues of their own. He wanted to make him understand that what others did to him wasn't right by any stretch of the imagination, that they were at fault and should be stopped. He wanted to be able to wave a hand so that everything would magically fix itself, vanishing away Vic and Ryan or making them see reason and beg Briton for forgiveness. However, what Oz wanted was impossible or, in the case of telling Briton things he already knew, futile and unwelcome at the moment. Briton knew how Oz felt about all of this, had heard the taller boy say it over and over in a variety of situations that tended to end up like this. Besides, since when did Oz do what he wanted? Doing what he wanted caused problems for others, made them dislike him and stay away. He did what others needed, and, for right now, that involved hugging Briton closer to himself, holding him tightly and anchoring him to this world as if to say without words that for all the problems in his life right now, Oz wasn't one of them.

Briton continued to sob, breath catching between each wracking breath. To see such a good friend in such a state of despair and emotional turmoil was painful, and to know that he couldn't do anything was even more so. But he didn't say anything, couldn't say anything because then he would be burdening Briton, wouldn't he? If he started getting upset or crying himself, then Briton wouldn't feel like he could tell him things anymore and he'd keep these awful feelings bottled up, weighing him down. Like, well, like Oz did, and he couldn't let that happen to Briton.

Briton was talking now, voice muffled in Oz's shirt, but he could still hear it, and feel the words spilling from Briton's lips. It raised- it raised too many questions, too many alarms in just a few words. What did he mean that they didn't know what Vic had been doing? What was this about Violet ranting about being a vigilante? She'd gone after Vic and Ryan? Why and how? None of this news made a lot of sense right now, and hadn't this night been traumatic enough for everyone involved without all of this coming out? How out of the loop WAS Oz?

He let Briton go with little struggle when his phone vibrated, but was unable to keep his eyes away from the other boy as his face transformed, twisting with apparent worry, and the shaking began again.

"Damnit." Just that first word had Oz's stomach twisted in knots, and it only got worse as Briton finished his report. "Damnit, she... Charlie just texted me and.... Violet's going to the damn fucking hospital." Oz didn't bother to hide the surprise that fell over his features. Violet was in the hospital? Why? Was it serious? Oh, of course it was serious, she was in the hospital, the hospital. What should he do about it? Should he do anything? He didn't have his license, it was so late out that it was almost early… Besides, a bunch of kids hanging around the hospital who weren't actually related to her wouldn't be able to get in, anyways, and Violet… Violet probably wouldn't want him there.

No, she definitely wouldn't want him there, regardless of why she was in the hospital. Violet and he hadn't really gotten along with each other for some time, not since the day that she left him waiting in the park for hours, only for him to later see her getting out of the car of what he could only assume was some secret older boyfriend. No, he didn't understand, but she'd refused to speak with him for ages, and they only hung around each other for group activities now. He was worried, of course he was, she was his friend, and probably still was for all of their issues, but… But he couldn't help her if she didn't even want to be in the room alone with him, and Briton needed him. Probably. Maybe he didn't need Oz specifically, but he was a convenient shoulder to cry on, wasn't he? So, he listened, taking in the choked confession of weakness, and tears, and worries while wrapping an arm around Briton's shoulders, feeling each shuddering breath.

"And, um... I know this is sort of unrelated, but... Do you think you could just not tell anyone about me having asthma?" Briton was staring at him imploringly, and how could Oz refuse him anything after all of that? Besides it made sense. He didn't like it, but it made sense. Briton really was treated like delicate porcelain by a good majority of the group, something Oz himself could be guilty of, and to add asthma onto all of that would only aggravate the problem. It wasn't wise, but Oz knew his friends- well, thought he knew his friends- and recognized what they would probably do with that information. If one conversation about bullying had prompted Nate to challenge someone in a booze-fueled party, had raised threats at the diner, had prompted Violet into becoming some sort of vigilante, he could only imagine that it would become ten times worse with the knowledge that Briton was asthmatic.

"O-O," the word was caught in Oz's throat, a stammer created by pent up emotion slurring his speech. He knew how he wanted to respond, but after everything that had just been dealt to him emotionally and mentally, it was hard to speak, hard to get his meaning across. He was choking on it now, vocal chords and mouth refusing to cooperate before it all tumbled out into a quick, "Iwontellem."

He took a deep breath, repeating it now with slower and more precise words. "I won't tell anyone." Oz would know, though, another secret locked away in his mind, and he could use that information in case something happened. There was quiet then, for a moment, as Oz quelled his raging emotions, not meeting Briton's eyes for the longest time because if he did- well, then he was going to need comforting himself, and he wasn't putting that job on Briton or anyone for that matter.

The silence passed, and with it Oz's bout of speechlessness. "What do you want to do? I mean, do you want to go to the hospital right now? Or we can… We can ask someone if there's anything we can do right now. If they say now, then... then we can watch a movie or something tonight and see Violet tomorrow? When both of us are more…" He searched for the word, "okay." When Briton wasn't just coming away from an asthma attack, and when Oz was certain he himself wouldn't cause a scene. "Yeah, if there's nothing we can do, I'll just spend the night, we can watch a movie, and then we'll go see Violet tomorrow. But it's up to you." Because, right now, if Briton just looked at him the right way after the day that both of them had had, he'd probably agree to do just about anything.