Disclaimer The O.C. is property of Fox.
Author's Note: This is for brandywine421 to keep her warm at night.
I think it is over, over,
I think it is over at last:
Voices of foemen and lover,
The sweet and the bitter have passed:
- In Harbor, Paul Hamilton Hayne
"Yeah-'lo," Ryan said, grabbing the phone.
"Ryan?" Theresa's voice was small and quiet, buried beneath the laughter of the Seth feeding dinner. "Is that you?"
"It's me. Theresa? What's wrong?"
"Can you-" Ryan heard her voice break thickly and knew even without seeing that there were tears running down her face. "Something's happened- can you come?"
Ryan looked behind him, to where Seth was wearing more of Sophie's dinner than she was. Even so, Seth had instinctively known that something was wrong just from the way Ryan's demeanour had fallen still and quiet. Seth nodded.
"Of course," Ryan replied. "Just tell me where."
It took the best part of two hours to reach the morgue and Ryan was grateful that Sophie remained quiet all the way, keeping him company in the backseat while Seth drove up front.
"I think we're here," Seth said, after negotiating his way through the last of immeasurable sets of traffic lights that seemed determined to add to evening's misfortune. At this time of night, parking was mercifully straightforward and he pulled into a space almost directly across from the morgue.
The architecture of the building was kinder than either of them expected as Ryan and Seth made their way across the street.
"Ryan." Turning at the sound of his name, Ryan saw Theresa locking her car, Daniel hovering close by her feet.
"Hey," Ryan said softly, as he walked to greet her. He smiled at the boy by her side, surprised at how much he'd grown. "Hey, Daniel."
Daniel looked up at him with big inquisitive eyes.
"Daniel, this is my friend Ryan, remember?" Theresa said, sliding the little boy up easily on to her hip. "He's come to help Mommy, okay?"
Daniel nodded shyly and dropped his head into Theresa's shoulder. "He's tired," she said.
"Yeah," Ryan said, with understanding, touching her arm and squeezing it gently. "Theresa-"
"-Not yet," Theresa said, backing off. Her voice was a whisper, fragilely concealing the undertow of emotion that threatened to pull her under. "Please Ryan, I can't-"
"Okay, okay, it's alright," he replied, understanding without asking his oldest friend's pain. "I understand."
Theresa looked over to where Seth was waiting, as grateful as Ryan for the small smile he offered them as he waited patiently with Sophie by the building's entrance.
Ryan saw her composure falter momentarily as she tried to smile back and found it cracking into something sorrowful. He took her by the arm. "We probably should-"
"Okay," Theresa nodded, then again more decisively. "Okay."
The inside of the building lacked the compassion of its exterior. They walked down a sensitively lit corridor on soft, warm coloured carpets, but the pieces of furniture placed at regular intervals along its length to detract from the institution's purpose could have been found in any number of chain motels and the vases held only plastic flowers within their delicate curves.
The man leading them stopped outside a door and turned to Ryan, Theresa and Seth. "Here's our family room," he said, opening the door and entering the room. "The children can wait here and if you need anything, there's a phone through to reception on the table."
"Thanks," said Seth, taking charge and slipping Sophie's from his shoulder, careful not to disturb his sister as she slept peacefully in the sling on his front. He turned and bent down to Daniel. "Okay, Daniel, remember your Mom said she had some errands to run?"
The little boy nodded his head, responding warmly to Seth's kind and natural tone.
"Well, she's going to go now and do those, and my brother Ryan's going to go with her and help out." He glanced briefly at Theresa to re-confirm her approval before continuing, "Now, it might take a while, but she's going to be back as soon as she can, okay? And I was kind of hoping, that maybe you could help me out in the meantime? Because I've got to read my sister Sophie a bedtime story and I need someone to help me pick one out."
"She's asleep." Daniel stated with childlike bluntness, seeing Sophie's sleeping form.
"Yeah, she is," Seth said, "But I promised her. And family always keep their promises, even if they're asleep, or gone far away. So what do you say? Will you help me until your Mom gets back?"
Satisfied with Seth's explanation, Daniel nodded again.
"Excellent." Seth stood up and took the hand that Daniel held out to him expectantly. He looked at Theresa. "Take as much time as you need. I think we're good."
"I'll be back as soon as I can, alright, little man?" Theresa said, bending down to give her son a kiss and a tight hug. "Be good for Uncle Seth. Help him sound out the big words if he gets stuck."
Theresa stood up again and turned to the clerk, resolution taking form once again on her features. "Thanks."
Taking Theresa once more into the reassuring comfort of his shoulder, Ryan led her out of the family room to where the clerk waited patiently for them, nodding in understated thanks to Seth on the way.
With silent tact, the clerk led the way through the corridor and into another. Stopping outside one of several doors room, he turned to Theresa.
"I'm afraid practical necessities dictate that the viewing room is not as comforting as we would wish. When we enter, I will ask you to make a formal identification, before giving you time for private reflection should you wish it."
"Thank you," Ryan said on Theresa's behalf, correctly sensing that now the unavoidable was nigh, she'd rather cut through the kindness and move on to the painful inevitable.
The outline of the body was clear under the cream sheet.
Ryan had supposed on the drive over earlier that night that at this moment he would be unnerved, worried, scared, maybe, at the prospect of being in the presence of a dead body. It had never occurred to him that at the forefront of his mind would be surprise to see a deep cream, not white, sheet covering his friend's form.
"Are you ready?" the clerk asked Theresa gently.
- How can a person ever be ready for this? -
Ryan wondered as he looked down at Theresa, taking her tighter in his hold at the question.
"No."
The clerk looked at her, evidently surprised by the certainty of her response.
"Ryan, I don't want to see him. What if after this all I can see is this? Lying there, in this room? It's not who he was, I don't want that in my head." Theresa slipped from Ryan's half-embrace and stumbled back towards the door. "I can't. Please can you-"
As suddenly anxious by his friend's response as the clerk attending them, Ryan nodded, even as Theresa left them alone.
"Sir?"
"It's okay," Ryan said. "We grew up together."
He took a deep breath.
It wasn't him.
He knew from the last time he'd seen a dead body –
- don't think about that now, not now, not here -
There was life and spirit, and there was afterwards. Ryan knew the difference.
Whoever Arturo had been when they were children, whoever he had become when they were adults, the person lying before him, cold and empty; it wasn't him any more.
But he still told him he loved him. Just in case.
Theresa took the tissue he offered. It wasn't clean, but she didn't care.
"Thank you," she said, wiping at the trails of mascara that tattooed her cheeks darkly. "I just couldn't-"
"Hey," Ryan said, picking up her hand in his. "I get it. You don't have to explain to me."
"It's just- He was doing so much better, you know? Really turned his life around." She laughed in spite of herself. "Just had to go to prison to do it."
"How long did he have left?" Ryan asked. He hadn't asked the details on the phone earlier, just got the information, told Seth and left a note for Kirsten and Sandy in case they caught an earlier flight from Hawaii.
Arturo was dead. Theresa needed someone to come with her to identify him now that her mom was gone. That was all that matted really; loss and friendship.
"Three months. The last time I spoke to him he was worried-" Theresa said, her voice filled with bitter irony, "He was worried that he would get his parole before he graduated. Business, with bookkeeping. He wanted to open his own auto shop."
Ryan said tentatively asked the forbidden question. "What happened, Theresa?"
"He had a new cellmate, eighteen year old kid from Corona, got his girlfriend pregnant and didn't want to be a babyfather. Sold some pot to a couple of undercovers in a bar and that was that, you know? Arturo looked out for him, was going to help get a job when he got out. Some guys came after him, wanted to play with him, 'Turo tried to break it up." Theresa looked at Ryan, her tears running freely again from her wide broken eyes, her voice breaking up. "He didn't see the knife."
They pulled up to the Berkeley house just before 3:00am, Ryan tucking in the car neatly behind where Seth had parked Theresa's ten minutes earlier.
"It's nice," Theresa said as she walked towards the front door with Ryan and Sophie. It was the first thing either of them had said for nearly two hours. It was quiet inside, but calming and cosy, not like the fake-smile comfort of the morgue.
"Hi," Seth greeted them simply as he came downstairs to join them.
"You survived?" Theresa asked, Daniel had adopted Seth as his new best friend and had decided he was going to ride with him to Berkeley or pout until he got his way.
"He fell asleep about five minutes after we set out. I've put him down in my room, top of the stairs on the left." He took the bag of Sophie's miscellany from Ryan's shoulder. "I'll take yours; you guys should take Mom and Dad's."
"Thanks, Seth," Theresa said, trying to smile and reminding Seth of the strong semi-shy girl he first met so long ago in Newport. Moving to go upstairs, Theresa stopped and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. "For everything."
"Hey, Summer's still on tour with GEORGE. My gentle compassion and humility has to find an outlet somewhere, right?"
"Right." Theresa smiled, for real this time, and touched his arm in thanks for his kindness as she made her way upstairs.
Seth waited until they heard Theresa disappear into Daniel's room before raising his eyebrows expectantly at his friend.
"You okay man?"
"I'm fine." Ryan said, feeling the weight of the late hour for the first time. "Sophie slept too."
"That's not what I meant." Seth said regarding Ryan steadily. "Are you okay? Ryan Atwood. You, man. Tonight, what you just did, after everything that happened? Even with your Kid Chino / White Knight complex, it's pretty amazing. I know it can't have been easy for you."
- No, stay. Don't leave. -
Ryan looked at Seth with grateful understanding, felt the grief wash over him in a half-forgotten memory.
He felt Sophie stir against his chest. The warm reassurance of the wooden floor of home beneath his feet. The presence of old friends and brothers close by.
"I think-" he said finally, his eyes meeting his friend's, filled with the warmth of hope. "I think maybe I will be."