Title : Chains of Habit

Author : Helen C.

Rating : PG-13

Summary : Half an hour after the cab had dropped him off down the road, he was still trying to gather the courage to ring the bell. Five 500-words drabbles, because I'm addicted to that format.

Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AN. For some time now, I've wanted to write a fic where Ryan comes back to the Cohens after some time spent away, and waits in the driveway under the rain, scared of ringing the bell. After the finale, that idea collided with this awesome one-shot by muchtvs'.

http // muchtvsocfic . livejournal . com / 12641 . html#cutid1

And this is what happened...

Huge thanks to joey51for beta'ing this.


Chains of Habits

Helen C.

Part One - Now

Rain was pouring down on Ryan as he stared at the Cohens' house.

His freezing clothes were clinging to his skin, making him shiver. He should just suck it up and go ring the bell but he couldn't bring his feet to move, and it wasn't just the cold keeping him frozen into place.

The last time he had laid eyes on this house, at the end of a long summer spent grieving, he had been leaving for a new part of his life. The Cohens kept saying that maybe he should wait a few months, give himself some more time. It had taken long for Ryan to finally convince them that he was as ready as he would ever be, that he was fine, ready to move on.

He had almost believed it himself.

Kirsten had smiled gently, given him a hug, told him to enjoy college life.

Sandy had looked proud, given him teasing fatherly advice.

Seth had hugged him awkwardly, made tasteless jokes about chicks in College.

Ryan had climbed into the cab, determined to make it work.

He had utterly failed.

He couldn't even pretend he had tried that hard.

And now here he was again—eleven months older, ten pounds lighter, dressed in dirty clothes, unshaved, his hair longer than it had ever been.

The last time he had caught a glimpse of himself, he almost hadn't recognized his own features in the mirror.

Was he the same guy who had once thought he had a chance to become something better than his father, his brother, and the men his mother had brought home?

Was there anything left of the kid he had been at sixteen—scared, hopeless, desperate to get the hell out of Chino before he ended up a loser? Ryan doubted it.

And if he wasn't that kid anymore, if he wasn't even the same Ryan he had been on Graduation day…

Would the Cohens still want him?

Would they want the man he had become, for better or for worse?

It had been half an hour since the cab had dropped him off down the road, and he was still trying to gather the courage to march up to the house.

He had never been so scared—not in the car with Trey, not in jail.

Not even when Marissa had stopped breathing.

Strange.

For the past year, all he had felt was numbness. Even when facing Volchok, he hadn't felt anything.

No pity, no remorse.

No anger.

But here, next to the house where he had once been happy, he couldn't keep his hands from shaking.

Would the Cohens forgive him?

Forgive him for a year without a phone call, without a card, without even telling them that he was still alive—if one could call that being alive.

Would they forgive him for the mess he'd made?

Trey's voice was back, taunting, "Only one way to know, isn't there, little brother?"

Bracing himself, Ryan rang the bell.

And waited.