Portia's Sacrifice
by C. Blue

He could scarcely see straight; certainly, containing his anger for much
longer would be nearly impossible. When at last the taping ended, Colin
Mochrie stood up. "Ryan," he said curtly, and no more, before walking away.
Drew, Wayne, Greg, and Ryan listened to the footsteps recede.

"Wow," said Drew, quietly. "What happened between you two?"

"It's a long story," sighed Ryan. "You know that episode of 'The Drew Carey
Show' that you're letting me direct?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, he suggested a guest actor. Unfortunately, the man just wasn't right
for the role. I think that's what's got Colin upset."

"Would you please go and make up with him already?" asked Wayne. "I think
even the audience picked up on the problems between you two."

Ryan nodded. "Just what I was thinking of doing myself. You guys can go on
without me; I'll meet you at the bar later, okay?" The five performers had
planned on going to a bar for some post-taping drinks, but obviously those
plans had to be rearranged somewhat.

Ryan checked the green room first; finding it empty, he proceeded on to his
wardrobe, and then the various dressing rooms. His worry over his friend
grew with every empty room. Finally, the worry and the increasing pain in
his back and head forced him to go back to his own office. He threw open the
door and found precisely who he'd been looking for. "Colin," he greeted his
guest. He could not see the Canadian, who was sitting in a chair with his
back to the door. Nevertheless, he was certain of the intruder's identity.

Ryan pulled up a chair, copying his friend's pose almost exactly. Despite
his back pain, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his
head in his hands. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"I don't believe you," Colin said, without waiting for Ryan to bring up the
issue that divided them.

"I don't follow," Ryan said. "What exactly don't you believe?"

"I offered you an actor with talent and a real need for a job, and what did
you do?" asked Colin. "You turned him down before even seeing him act."

"I had to," protested Ryan. "Col, I know who he is. I've heard about what he
does with his earnings. You know as well as I do that he'd gamble away
whatever he made from this gig."

"He'll change!" insisted Colin. "I know he will. He's my friend, Ryan, as
much as you are, if not more so."

That hurt, although Ryan tried not to let it show. They'd been thick as
thieves for almost twenty years; after all that time, did Colin really
believe that Ryan could do anything but love him? "Friend or no, I couldn't
hire him. I had to consider the rest of the cast, as well as the production,
and I just couldn't justify this move."

"Bullshit, Stiles. You just wanted to hold out for bigger names," corrected
Colin. "If it had been someone famous with a problem, you'd have hired them
in a heartbeat."

Ryan shook his head. "Come on, Colin, now you're being childish. I would
never do that! Don't demean yourself by making these kinds of comments."

"I believe in him," Colin reiterated. "Perhaps if more people had, he
wouldn't have turned to gambling."

"Good actor or no, he'd still be bad for the show, okay?" Ryan closed his
eyes, trying to center himself. He felt his temper begin to heat up.
Exploding at Colin, taking all of his frustrations out on the man, would not
be good for anyone. *Must calm down... must calm down...* When he had a
fresh grip on his emotions, he kept arguing his point. "Besides, why does
this mean so much to you, besides the fact that this man's a friend of
yours?"

"I just wanted you to do me - and him - this one favor. Is that so wrong?"
asked Colin.

"I can't grant you this favor," Ryan said. "You're my best friend, but there
are some things that are more important than catering to your every whim.
Besides, didn't I do you a big favor when I got you on the show?"

"That was years ago. If you did - and I'm not so sure you did - then how
come I haven't been booted off yet?" replied Colin. "I've stayed here thanks
to my own talent."

"How do you know that?" snapped Ryan. "Look, I'm not saying you're bad at
this. You're a better actor than I am; hell, you act every day! We both do,
remember? Whether it's professional or just trying to keep the peace in our
everyday lives, we act all the time. It's just something we do. You try to
pretend that everything's great, well, I have news for you. Life isn't all
sunshine and roses. I can't make it that way, but I can sure as hell try,
and so can you."

"I am trying!" Colin said. "Why do you think I put on a happy face every
time I have to watch you cozy up to some other woman? You don't think it
hurts me to feel the sexual tension whenever they bring someone like Kathy
on the show? She's a sweetheart, really, but sometimes it gets to be too
much." He paused. "What did I just tell you?"

"That you were jealous of the women I've ended up with, both fictional and
real, but go on," said Ryan. "I won't read anything into your words that you
don't want me to."

Still, it was there, and Colin knew perfectly well that the cat was poking
its nose out of the bag. His voice quavered a little as he said, "I don't
want to lose it here, so I'll ask you to stop baiting me like this. I wanted
to help a fellow actor; I know from experience what it's like to be down on
your luck with nowhere to go but further down. I've been there, Ryan. I've
done that."

"Get out, then," Ryan said. "Get out and don't come back for awhile, okay?
If you want me to be calm, you've got to give me time to think a little. My
life's been one big whirlwind since Drew told me I was directing an episode
of his show. I haven't had any time to sit and think at all. Why should I
sit here arguing with you when I have better things to do?"

Colin tried to think of a reply, but found that he couldn't think of
anything civil to say. Rather than try to get in a final jab, he pushed back
his chair and headed for the door. As he had his hand on the doorknob,
though, he thought of something. "Does it have to be like this?"

"Does our friendship have to suffer like this? I guess it does," answered
Ryan. "You think you're so much better than I am. You obviously have no need
for me anymore, except when you need a favor and you can't find anyone else
to help you out. You don't help me, so why should I help you?"

"Ryan, that's not true," said Colin. "You're a much better comedian than
I'll ever be. Besides, 'mi casa es su casa.' I'd give you everything I had
if you needed it."

"Then why'd you turn me down when I asked for a loan so I could pay the
crew?" asked Ryan.

"That must have been my accountant," realized Colin. "Damn it. I knew I
shouldn't have kept him on after he tried to 'borrow' $10,000 from my bank
account. He's fired as soon as I get my hands on him."

"Stop making excuses," Ryan said, feeling older by the minute.

"That's not an excuse," protested Colin. "A friend would know that I'm being
honest here, that I really did want to help you out."

"A friend would help you see faults like these, so you could fix them," Ryan
said. "Or do you want me to lie and say you're absolutely perfect?"

A light died in Colin's eyes. He walked over to where Ryan sat and stood
before him. Unbuttoning his shirt, he cast it aside and took a small knife
from his pocket. "Make me perfect, then," he said simply. "You want me to be
something I can't be while I'm human. Maybe I can do better as an angel."
Placing the knife in Ryan's hands, he closed his eyes. "You never loved me
much anyway. It shouldn't be any trouble to get rid of me."

Colin heard the whistle of the knife as it was thrown through the air at
something random. A second later, he heard it plunge into the wall at the
other end of the room. "I don't hate you," Ryan said. "I do love you, more
than you can ever know. I'm not so great at expressing that, but you're my
best friend."

The room was chilly, causing Colin to shiver slightly. No sooner did the
goose bumps break out on his arms than he felt someone hold him. *Ryan,* he
thought. *I really don't deserve him, do I?* A lump grew in his throat. As
time passed, ever so slowly, he kept expecting Ryan to jump back and order
him out of the room, but nothing changed. "Why do you do this?" Colin asked.
"Why do you put up with me like this?"

"Because we've both been unbelievably stressed lately," explained Ryan.
"Besides, I can't just throw away a friendship that's kept me sane for the
last twenty years. Like I said, I love you. One stupid fight won't change
that."

"You don't hate me?"

"I couldn't do that."

"Ryan!" That did it; goodbye, fragile hold on composure. For the first time
in a very long time, Colin let himself cry. It was more out of joy than
sadness. Where was the sadness, anyway? "I'm so sorry for everything."

"It's okay, Col," Ryan said. "We all crack up sometimes. This was a long
time coming for you."

"How can you tell?"

"I've been watching you. I notice the little things, you know. I was pretty
sure you'd break down today." Rubbing his friend's neck, he spoke in the
calmest voice he could. "I knew you'd end up doing this, so I wasn't too
surprised when you vanished after the show. I was worried when I couldn't
find you at first, but I still wasn't surprised."

"I'm still sorry."

"I know you are. So am I. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. I knew
you weren't doing so well. I hit you while you were down, and I shouldn't
have done that."

He was loved, after all. Knowing that, after supposing that he was the scum
of the earth, was pure joy. *Not the kind of love I want, but it's close
enough,* he thought.

"Do you want to get out of here?" asked Ryan. "We could join the others at
the bar, or maybe just go back to one of our houses. I don't know if I'm
really in the mood to go anywhere else."

"You can decide," said Colin. *I'm fine here.*

~

Without really meaning to go there, they ended up at Ryan's house. The first
thing Colin noticed when he stepped inside was the abundance of cardboard
boxes. There were boxes scattered everywhere, and things were missing from
various shelves. "Ryan, are you moving or something?" he asked.

"I'm not," said Ryan. "Pat is. She wants a divorce. I don't know why; all I
know is that maybe now I won't have to pretend so much around everyone."

"Pretend?" Colin wondered. "How do you pretend?"

"I pretend to be happily married, a real 'family-oriented' kind of guy.
Barbecues on Sundays, picnics in the park... I don't know. It's okay for
other guys, but I can't live that kind of life. I wasn't made to be a family
man, I guess. My first love will always be comedy." Ryan flopped down on the
couch in the vast living room. "If only I had been different. This never
would have happened."

Colin joined him, feeling repentant for his earlier outburst. "God, Ry, I'm
surprised you didn't kill me," he said. "You should have told me you were
going through this. I'd have been there for you."

"It's okay," said Ryan. "You couldn't have known." He leaned back, letting
his head fall over the back of the couch. "What am I going to do?"

"Relax," directed Colin. "I'll be there for you like you were for me."
Placing Ryan's arm over his own shoulders, Colin wrapped himself around the
other man as best he could. "You'll be okay. We both will."

Ryan had to chuckle. *Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, Colin,* he
thought. Although he was certain his friend meant only to comfort him, Ryan
couldn't help but take the gesture as a symbol of something deeper. How many
times had they said they loved each other? How often did they dispense with
words and let touch speak for them?

"Thank you," said Ryan. "For everything."

"It's no problem," mumbled Colin. "Now keep relaxing. Don't think of
anything. You are empty, swimming in a sea of whiteness. Peace is all you
feel. Warmth surrounds you. Peace..."

Ryan's eyelids fluttered a few times before deciding to stay down over his
eyes. All of the day's tension left his body. His breathing settled into a
deep, even pattern. When Colin noticed his friend snoring lightly, he
decided it was time for him to let go. *If I don't let go now, I might never
be able to let go again.* He helped Ryan lie down on the couch and covered
him with a nearby throw. Finding a pen and a notepad, he wrote a note and
left it right where Ryan would see it upon waking. With that, he left the
house, eager to get back to his own home.

Two minutes later, Pat walked in the door. She'd seen Colin driving away.
She knew he loved Ryan as more than a friend. More than once, she had
jokingly called him her competition. It hurt a little to realize she had
been right. *Hopefully Ryan will be happy now,* she thought. "Ryan?" she
called quietly. Hearing no sound, she looked around and saw Ryan, out for
the count.

The note lay on the coffee table. Curious, Pat picked it up and read it to
herself.

"Ry - gone home. Call me if you need me at all. Don't let the bastards grind
you down and I will try to practice what I preach. Love you - Col."

Setting the note down, Pat felt around in her purse for her house keys.
*They're there - good,* she thought. She placed them by Colin's note. It
took her twenty minutes to gather the essentials and load them into her car.
She left her own note for Ryan just before leaving for good.

"Ryan, please send the boxes to 144 Hawk's Peak, Los Angeles, CA. While
you're at it, clear out a room and invite your friend Colin to live with
you. You two will be so happy together. I'm sorry it didn't work out between
us, but you aren't alone by any means. Trust me on this one. - Pat"

~~

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