Bryan Collins (
bryanzilla) wrote2015-05-01 10:07 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[For David - May 6]
So it wasn't exactly the sort of wedding he'd always pictured himself having - he's barefoot, for starters, there isn't a single rented trumpeter swan to be seen and they were being serenaded by the musical styling of some hippie with a guitar who just happened to be on the beach that afternoon - but that hadn't made it any less perfect.
Perfect for them, anyway.
There weren't any lavish yet tasteful decorations, no burnt almond meringue cake and no blood relatives of the groom and groom in attendance. That last detail might have just been Bryan's favorite part. Or his second favorite part, really. Because while it may not have been the ceremony of his dreams in terms of the superficial aesthetics of it all, he was standing there with a man who, minus the height, surpassed all of his dreams, holding their son, with their family standing witness. As a very wise ten-year-old had once said, many, many weeks ago: Family is who you choose; it's the relatives who are chosen for us.
How could swans, a pretentious cake and all of those other small details improve on what was surrounding him? Flowers wilted, rented table linens and chairs all had to be returned and the swans would no doubt have made a mess of the aisle runner. But this? David, Sawyer and the people they cared about most... and guitar playing hippie? That's what mattered. That's all that mattered. The hippie, probably less so. All of that other stuff just wasn't important in the grand scheme of things.
With the rings and I dos exchanged, standing hand in hand with David, Bryan finds that he doesn't feel any of the anxiety he'd felt the first time they'd tried to do this. It just serves as further proof to him that this is how it was meant to be.
"Then by the power vested in me as a child of God, I now pronounce you... a family," Father Michael concludes and Bryan's smile brightens before he leans in, Sawyer nestled comfortably in the sling between them, and kisses David. For the sake of tradition he'd wanted to have the wedding before Sawyer was born, but in that moment, with each squirm and shift his tiny body makes in his cocoon of fabric, Bryan can't really remember why. To hell with the traditional.
It's the sudden chill in the air that makes him break the kiss off short and open his eyes, instantly glancing down and pulling the side of the sling protectively over Sawyer to shield him from the breeze. "I didn't dress him for this," Bryan says, brow knit with worry when he finally looks up... only to find everything and everyone who had been there just seconds ago were now gone. Goldie and Shania, Rocky and Nikki, Father Michael and their makeshift, beach discards chic alter and archway. Gone. Random hippie? Him, too. In the distance, he notices that the whole of Santa Monica pier has vanished from the backdrop, and that's when he really starts to panic.
"David?"
Perfect for them, anyway.
There weren't any lavish yet tasteful decorations, no burnt almond meringue cake and no blood relatives of the groom and groom in attendance. That last detail might have just been Bryan's favorite part. Or his second favorite part, really. Because while it may not have been the ceremony of his dreams in terms of the superficial aesthetics of it all, he was standing there with a man who, minus the height, surpassed all of his dreams, holding their son, with their family standing witness. As a very wise ten-year-old had once said, many, many weeks ago: Family is who you choose; it's the relatives who are chosen for us.
How could swans, a pretentious cake and all of those other small details improve on what was surrounding him? Flowers wilted, rented table linens and chairs all had to be returned and the swans would no doubt have made a mess of the aisle runner. But this? David, Sawyer and the people they cared about most... and guitar playing hippie? That's what mattered. That's all that mattered. The hippie, probably less so. All of that other stuff just wasn't important in the grand scheme of things.
With the rings and I dos exchanged, standing hand in hand with David, Bryan finds that he doesn't feel any of the anxiety he'd felt the first time they'd tried to do this. It just serves as further proof to him that this is how it was meant to be.
"Then by the power vested in me as a child of God, I now pronounce you... a family," Father Michael concludes and Bryan's smile brightens before he leans in, Sawyer nestled comfortably in the sling between them, and kisses David. For the sake of tradition he'd wanted to have the wedding before Sawyer was born, but in that moment, with each squirm and shift his tiny body makes in his cocoon of fabric, Bryan can't really remember why. To hell with the traditional.
It's the sudden chill in the air that makes him break the kiss off short and open his eyes, instantly glancing down and pulling the side of the sling protectively over Sawyer to shield him from the breeze. "I didn't dress him for this," Bryan says, brow knit with worry when he finally looks up... only to find everything and everyone who had been there just seconds ago were now gone. Goldie and Shania, Rocky and Nikki, Father Michael and their makeshift, beach discards chic alter and archway. Gone. Random hippie? Him, too. In the distance, he notices that the whole of Santa Monica pier has vanished from the backdrop, and that's when he really starts to panic.
"David?"
no subject
No, this one was different and not in a good way. It's a conclusion David reaches as soon as he realises the low, warm glow of a slowly-setting sun has gone, along with the feel of a sand-scattered towel beneath his feet. Along with Bryan. Along with Sawyer.
For a moment he thinks he can hear Goldie's laughter but when he looks frantically around him to locate the source, there's not a wisp of long blond locks in sight.
"Bryan?" He calls out, a hand screwed in hair as he twists to scan his surroundings again. He starts off in a direction he's put zero thought into, favoring instinct over reason, all traces of Boy Scout logic gone the way of the sun and the soft sand and their son and-- "Bryan!"
no subject
One small problem solved. It's just a flash in the pan, though, when he looks back up and still has no idea where everything and everyone else went. Was he being Punk'd? Ugh, how 2005.
"David?!" He tries again, shouting this time as he starts up the beach. "So help me, if your father pops out of a beach shelter with Justin Bieber in a backwards cap I will not be held responsible for my actions."
no subject
Breathe, David coaches, shaking out his hands to try and bring his growing anxiety under control, breath quickening despite himself. What would Bilbo do? There is a pier protruding into the horizon, a boardwalk above the shoreline and uneven stone steps leading down to the beach. Higher ground, better view, he concludes, moments before a tiny Bryan-shaped figure appears in the distance. Besides the birth of Sawyer and possibly the first Lord of the Rings movie, it's the best thing David has ever seen and it takes less than a heartbeat for him to start running.
no subject
Arms cradling the bundle against his chest, Bryan trudges on towards David through the sand. His shoes can be counted among the missing, too, and even with those added to the list, it doesn't really dawn on him that the three of them might be the things that are out of place.
no subject
Reaching the pair, he lifts a gentle hand to Sawyer's head and examines the vicinity once again, teeth worrying his bottom lip. "Goldie?" He checks hopefully, raising a concerned gaze to Bryan. "Shania?"
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Maybe they're by the car," he suggests, though he doesn't sound like he's convinced that's the truth. They wouldn't just leave. "Do you have your phone? Try calling."
no subject
no subject
While David tries to get a hold of someone, Bryan takes a moment to peek into the folds of fabric at Sawyer, still asleep and oblivious to any potential strange goings on outside his little bubble. Bryan envies him a little. He glances back up again only when the phone is at his ear, brow knitting. "Well, that's not good," he says unnecessarily, leaning back just far enough to focus his vision on David's screen. "No service," the lack of little bars indicates, sending Bryan fishing out his own phone, only to have the fact confirmed.
no subject
"Alright." Pocketing the useless phone, David turns to face Bryan and reaches for his arms, both to seek and offer comfort. He keeps his voice firm and gaze steady, belying his apprehension. "First things first, we are not going to panic. Bryan."
no subject
"You are not going to panic," he repeats after David, amending it as he deems appropriate. He isn't going to make a promise he's likely to go back on at any second.
no subject
no subject
"We need to get off the beach. Looking around at everything that's not here is creeping me out."
no subject
"We'll stop the first person we see and get some answers," he continues, starting up the beach towards the steps that will take them to the boardwalk and civilization. "There has to be an explanation."
no subject
no subject
"Oh my God. The Rings of Power," he declares dramatically, sliding his wedding ring halfway off his finger, eyes darting around to see if that makes a difference to their surroundings.
no subject
"We're not panicking, remember?" Especially not if it involved the most mind–numbing dull trilogy Bryan has ever had the misfortune of trying to nap through.
no subject
"I'm sorry, you're right." He lets out a deep, steadying breath and wiggles his shoulders. "Staying calm." He only manages to remain quiet a moment or two longer before he sends Bryan a side-long glance. "That was a really good try, honey, I'm proud of you. But I think someone needs a rewatch."
no subject
"Bad guys lose, good guys win, pirate Orlando Bloom will always trump elf Orlando Bloom and Andy Serkis takes home an MTV Movie Award for best virtual performance. What else is there to know?"
no subject
"When we're back home, safe and sound, I'll show you," he promises distractedly, taking the last step up to the broadwalk. Everybody looks normal. Nobody is running around like a headless chicken like David is inside his head. They all just look as if they're going about a regular day. "Hopefully one of these has a cell phone we can borrow."
no subject
no subject
"There, there," he points out, flapping a hand against Bryan's arm. "She has a phone. Go, go. Ask her where we are and call Goldie. No! Call my mom."
no subject
When he approaches the young woman, it's in what he hopes is the least threatening way possible. He presents his useless cellphone, motions over to David and Sawyer and is offered use of her phone soon after. It's returned almost as quickly.
It's another few minutes of conversing - most of the talking being done by the young woman as Bryan nods, shakes his head or is caught between some strange blend of the two - before he makes his way back over to his family. The good news? They hadn't disappear on him. And he hadn't been pepper sprayed. "You're a doctor," he says once he's close. "People ask for second opinions all the time, right? Let's get one of those. Pick someone else." After a beat. "Also, I need a tetanus shot."