Discl.: I don't own anything. No money is made.
A huge thank you to Loracj2 for the beta. This is a thank you to my loyal o.c. fic readers. THANK YOU!
5 times Ryan had to choke back tears
1.
Ryan didn't exactly remember how the latest asshole-of-the-week had ended up spending his days on their coach in the living room. All he knew was that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were on TV and he wanted to watch it.
While Dawn screamed at the guy with her high pitched, drunken voice, not to ever touch her children again, "that's my right and mine alone", Trey put a band-aid over the bleeding scratch on his chin, where the fist of the bastard had connected with his face.
"Big boys don't cry, Ryan."
2.
The world was tough; Ryan had learned that lesson early on in life. Apparently, Seth hadn't. Who could blame him, though? Sheltered in the world of the rich with two amazing but overprotective parents, he had never dealt with anything violent except for the verbal harassment he got to hear at school. Which, in Ryan's books, was a piece of cake, compared to how he remembered his school days in Chino.
So Ryan tried to cut him some slack and didn't think too much of it when he got Seth's tearful phone call for help.
The boy's restrooms were empty except for one stall from which soft sobs were audible.
"Seth, that you?"
"Ryan? Thank God! I don't know what to do! It's horrible, I can't go back to class, I can't go home like this, it hurts, Ryan! Do something!"
"What happened?" Ryan inquired through the closed door.
"I might have pissed off the wrong guy this time. But I just couldn't help myself, I thought you were nearby, you know?"
"Apparently. Open the door."
"Really? I mean… Can you take it? This is so embarrassing! But it hurts like a bitch, Ryan!"
"Just open the door, Seth!"
Ryan was beginning to lose his temper. After all, Seth had summoned him for help, now he might as well let him help and stop playing Princess.
Nothing happened for a long minute except for the sobs still pouring out from under the door.
"Seth!"
Finally, Ryan heard the lock being pulled and the door screeched open slowly. The sight was too much. Ryan bolted from the door and into the next stall, his hands covering his mouth, desperately trying to keep himself from exploding with laughter.
Who knew how creative football jerks could get with some glue and a guy's testicles.
3.
Going to college and coping with wealthy, stuck-up offspring in class was one thing, but participating in a field trip to a construction site, including some real hands-on work, was another.
He knew from the moment it was announced that it was going to end badly.
The girls were happily painting some walls which Ryan knew would be properly re-painted as soon as the students had left.
The boys had been divided into groups. The damn Atwood luck saw him once again teaming up with the biggest jerk in his class, and one with whom he'd already had a run in.
He should've known better than to even give that guy a sledge.
The blinding pain exploded in his hand and raced up his arm the moment the hammer connected with his finger. It was so intense that the water flooding to his eyes seemed impossible to keep at bay.
4.
He had expected it to be messy. They had all warned him hundreds of times, teased him to no end, challenging him that he wouldn't be able to go through with it. But not for anything in the world would he have missed this moment.
The pain in his hand and his squashed fingers where she was squeezing, the names she called him over the hours she had to endure this tremendous pain, the moment his heart stopped beating for a few seconds until that little squeal rang through the room. It was more than worth it.
And when this precious little bundle looked up to him with startling blue eyes, so similar to his own, he wished he could stop time and just live this moment forever.
5.
To be realistic, he had been excepting this call. They had grown old together and had lived a long time. Over the past few years, they had enjoyed just sitting outside in the mild climate of California, watching their great-grand children play in the garden while grandpa Ryan discussed business with his son and successor at the company.
Nevertheless, when the call came, Ryan's hand clutched down hard on the backrest of the chair to keep himself from shaking.
It had been peaceful and painless. He went to bed and just did not wake up again the next morning, Kirsten told him.
Afterwards, he was perfectly calm. This was life, he had been prepared.
Only the tears streaming freely down the faces of his children and grandchildren nearly broke him.
The End.
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