Disclaimer: If The O.C. was mine, do you really think I'd be doing this?
Summary: What would happen if Ryan actually stole the car and Trey wasn't even there? What if Ryan was an actual bad boy and the Cohens had trouble dealing with him? And what would happen if it was Summer at the end of the driveway and not Marissa?
I am in a mental rewrite mood. Don't ask why. But probably because I realized most of my fics suck. So this isn't all that different to the original, but meh, like I said – I'm in a rewrite mood and "Ryan Atwood: Token Bad Boy" became my poor little prey.
Ryan Atwood had lived in Chino for most of his life. It sucked. His father, Frank Atwood was in jail and wouldn't be out for a very long time. Not that Ryan wanted anything to do with him. Dawn Atwood – Ryan's mother, was a useless drunk. She couldn't handle the responsibility of being a parent and left her boyfriends to decide punishment. And punishment in the Atwood home, usually consisted of an ass getting kicked. Ryan was over it. He had no real reason to stay in Chino. He didn't go to school. He didn't have a job. His friends probably wouldn't notice if he went and Ryan had never had a girlfriend, so it's not like that was tearing him down. Ryan enjoyed a low life. Sleeping around, playing with a few drugs here and there and drinking was basically his life. Although crime gave him a small rush, nothing really fazed him. He was bored out of his mind.
So here the seventeen-year-old boy was, eyeing an old school Camero with a smirk playing on his lips.
Half drunk and half stoned, Ryan approached the car with some random metal part of something he found in a rubbish dump and looked around for on-lookers and cops.
All his crap was at home. Not like he had much. Ryan had a gun, some cocaine, a pack of cigarettes and a chocolate bar in his various jean pockets. That would be enough to last him. And after all, it's not like he was a virgin when it came to stealing.
Smashing the metal into the drivers' window of the Camero, Ryan felt pretty pleased with himself. He unlocked the door and jumped in. It was a lot easier than his brother Trey made it out to be.
Jump-starting the car was a breeze, practice makes perfect and he had, had a lot of practice over the years. This was the kind of thing he'd watch his father doing, then his brother. Now it was Ryan's turn to keep the Atwood tradition going.
Ryan gained his bearings and sped up. Still there were no cops around, which relaxed Ryan a bit.
Then he heard it. That sound he had come to know so well.
He muttered to himself angrily and continued driving faster. He wasn't going to be locked up. He wasn't going to let the police get him.
For only a second, Ryan let his guard down. Next thing he knew a cop was saying things and cuffing him. Being lead to the backseat of a police car was not the way he wanted the night to end.
It was sometime in the morning. Ryan wasn't sure what the exact time was, but he knew he didn't want to be up this early. He was being dragged out to a heavily guarded room with a middle-aged man sitting alone at one of the benches. The male was obviously his public defender.
"Hello, you must be Ryan Atwood. I'm Sandy Cohen, your public defender," the man introduced. Ryan rolled his eyes and took a seat.
"How was your night? It can get a bit rough in here at times. But lets see what we can do to get you out of here."
"Look man, I don't need your bullshit. Just get me off on probation and I'll work something out."
The older male sighed. "I'm only trying to help. But it's going to be a bit hard letting you off on probation. You have no legal guardian to take you into care."
Ryan looked up. "Where'd my mom go?"
"She, uh…it seems she's taken off. No one in authority has been able to contact her…" Sandy explained carefully.
Ryan smiled, which confused Sandy. "Anyway, lets talk about your history." Sandy picked up a rather thick file off the desk. "So this wasn't your first time in lock up. Your failing school, well, your failing when your actually attending school. There are quite a few truancy records. Drug possession, robbery, violence, sexual contact with a minor…"
"Believe me, in the moment she wasn't screaming abuse, it sounded more like-"
"I don't really want to know the details, thanks. But I think I can get you off on charges and definite probation. If all goes well, you shouldn't have to stay here much longer," Sandy offered a smile.
"Thanks."
"It's what I'm here for. But for now you can't stay here, so are there any other family members you could stay with?" Sandy inquired.
"No."
"All right then, I'll see if you can stay with me and my family for the weekend, just until we get your case sorted out."
"Uh what?"
"Look, your not going to be let off on your own, so, unless you want to stay in here, I suggest you make friends with the idea," Sandy explained.
Ryan snickered. "Make friends with the idea? What year are you in?"
"Watch your mouth. I have a wife to call." Sandy walked out of the room and left Ryan alone with two bulky guards.
Making his way back into the small room, Sandy beelined over to Ryan and said, "Come on. We've got to go sign some papers before you can be let into my care."
"What did your wife say?" Ryan asked curiously.
"It took a bit, but she eventually agreed. Don't worry, it'll be fine."
Ryan raised his eyebrows, as if questioning what Sandy had said. "She'll come around."
"Sure…" Ryan replied, not believing a word.
Not too long later the two men stood outside, talking about court dates. It was all such a blur for Ryan.
They wandered over to a black BMW seated in the back parking lot. Ryan's eyebrows were raised; his impressed expression caused Sandy to chuckle. "Come on kid, get on in."
About an hour after they began to drive, Ryan and Sandy arrived in Newport Beach. Tall and tan guys ran up the sand with surfboards in hand. Girls in bikinis sunbathed and splashed around.
Ryan smirked within himself. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy this place a lot more than he first thought for.
TBC
Please review, I beg of you. My self esteem needs a boost. LOL. Thanks for reading.