Title: The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most (1/11: Prologue: Beacon)
Author: Angelus
E-mail: (Please put "The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most" on the subject line.)
Subject: The O.C.
Category: R, A. R/S.
Rating: PG for slashiness.
Summary: Seth returns to Newport, but things are nowhere near where they're supposed to be.
Spoilers: "The Ties That Bind"
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: Seth, Summer, Anna, Ryan, Marissa, Luke, Sandy, Kirsten, Theresa, Trey, Arturo, etc. are all property of Fox Television, College Hill Pictures, Josh Schwartz, etc. Sadly, the only thing benefiting from this is my brain in creating more Adam Brody fantasies.
Author's notes: This began as a contribution for the FifteenMinuteFiclet LJ group, but after my initial ficlet, I revised and expanded it, and realized that it would be the perfect prologue for my "The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most" fic, which should be developing itself fairly quickly in the weeks to come. Hope you enjoy. If you're at all interested in reading the original piece that spawned this one, you can find it on the community "15minuteficlets", under the comments section for picture #15 (sorry, but won't let me use html to put a link in here).
Dedication: To Lisa, for being an awesome roommate.
As far as Seth is concerned, his life can be divided into two distinct eras: pre-Ryan and post-Ryan. Pre-Ryan was not a good time, filled with teasing and swirlies and lunches eaten alone. Most things were done alone, in fact. But Ryan waltzing into his life had changed all that. All of the sudden, he had a friend; a best friend. Somebody that hung out with him because he wanted to, not because he had to; someone who liked comic books and skateboarding, who understood his humor, who complemented him in every way. Despite his questionable taste in music, Ryan was about the most perfect best friend he could ask for.
And now, suddenly, he's gone. Seth has tried hating Theresa, but it quickly becomes clear that that isn't going to work, because logically, he understands why Ryan had to go. Not that it makes him any less angry about it. This is senior year coming up; it's supposed to be the time of his life. How is he supposed to have the time of his life without Ryan? So, he takes the coward's way out - he leaves. The second the boat leaves the dock, he knows it was the wrong thing to do. But Seth is always doing the wrong thing, so the last thing he wants to do is admit that he's made the wrong decision once again.
He doesn't exactly know what he's doing or where he's going, so he spends several days sailing around aimlessly, enjoying the feel of the sea salt on his lips and the wind through his hair. Sailing has always been his escape, ever since his dad taught him how to pilot a boat by himself at age ten. But after awhile, the sea starts to lose its thrill, and he decides that he needs a plan. Besides that, his supplies are running low, and he's developing a sunburn on the back of his neck, and he's in desperate need of a shower. So with no real reason, he makes his way down to Mexico. Might as well make a vacation out of it.
He sails right past Tijuana, as he's had quite enough of that place for one lifetime, and ends up in Mazatlan. His parents were there once; it's supposed to have beautiful architecture, rich history, lots of culture - somehow the only thing adults notice about a foreign country. But Seth doesn't see much of it outside of the cheap motel room he finds the second he docks. He takes full advantage of the lack of drinking laws, however; now there's culture. He wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and the recollection that Luke has recently moved to Portland, and owes him more than a few favors. He showers, re-stocks the boat, and is on his way before noon. Luke is, to say the very least, surprised to see Seth. He invites him in without question, however, and when Seth not-so-subtly hints that he needs a place to crash, Luke quickly offers him the guest room.
Although it's summer, and he hasn't started his new school yet, Luke always seems to have something going on, be it soccer practice or parties with the team or lifeguarding at the local pool. He tries to include Seth, but after one party spent huddled in a corner nursing a lukewarm beer, watching jocks head-butt each other, Seth politely declines any other invitations. For someone who hasn't had an actual social life since...well, ever, even during the school-year, Seth isn't used to this constant motion thing; he prefers to spend his time playing video games, reading comic books, sleeping, staring at the wall.... Every once and awhile, Luke will give him a look, then open his mouth as if he wants to say something. He always seems to think better of it at the last minute, though, and closes his mouth and walks away.
Living with Luke can only last so long; despite the uneasy truce that they formed last year, the pure and simple fact that remains is that he and Luke just don't like each other. Not only that, but they have absolutely zero in common. If they had been back in Newport, Seth thinks he probably would be making more of an effort; but that would be because Ryan was there, urging him to. But Ryan is gone, leaving Seth without the energy to handle the soccer player's bruised ego with care. He is civil to him; he figures he owes him that much for letting him mooch.
It's late August before Luke finally says something. Of course, he has the situation completely misinterpreted, but that's to be expected. He finds Seth sprawled out on his bed, surrounded by dirty clothes, empty take-out containers, and comic books, a video game controller clutched in his hand. He's pretty sure he hasn't left the bed in at least a few days, and he wouldn't say anything otherwise, but the room is seriously beginning to smell, and the sight before him is pretty pathetic - even more pathetic than he thought was possible coming from Seth Cohen, which is saying a lot in Luke's eyes.
"Dude," he says. "If you miss her that much, just tell her."
Seth doesn't bother to correct Luke's choice in pronouns; it's clear that he thinks Seth is depressed over Summer, or Anna, or both. If he knew the truth, he'd probably have an aneurysm. That, of course, makes Seth briefly consider telling him, just for his own amusement, but it would probably just make him feel bad, as much as the other boy has done for him. Even if he thought that Luke wouldn't be bothered by the fact, however, Seth's pretty sure he wouldn't tell him. This thing between he and Ryan is special, private, and complicated as hell - he's not even sure he can explain it. And not knowing where Ryan stands isn't helping matters much.
But Luke's suggestion makes Seth think (though the irony of that situation is not lost on him). Maybe it is that simple. Maybe he, Ryan, and Theresa can be one big, happy family. And maybe Summer will join the army. But, really, there's no harm in telling him, is there? Seth thinks he owes him at least that much. It's funny how much he owes people lately - Ryan, Luke, Summer, Anna, his parents....yes, so running away wasn't the most mature decision in the world. It's not like he didn't already know that. But now he's going back. That has to count for something, right?
The decision made, Seth sets about washing his clothes and packing them, along with his other meager belongings, into his water-proof duffel bag. He and Luke exchange manly, back-slapping hugs, and he's on his way before eleven the next morning. Time passes quickly this time, and it seems like only a few minutes have passed before he's approaching his home dock. Home. With a rueful smile, he sets about docking the Summer's Breeze, the familiar task easing his apprehensions - at least for a few minutes. When he's finished, he stands, surveying his hometown from the shoreline. It's a beautiful town, he'll give it that; and from down here, it looks so quiet - so peaceful. Seeing it this way makes him feel like maybe things aren't so fucked-up after all.
But as he's making his way down his street, passing Luke's old house, Summer's, Marissa's, he rescinds that brief moment of ignorant bliss. Things are fucked-up.
He doesn't ring the bell of his house to let his parents know that he's home. Instead, he fishes the spare car key out of his pocket, starts up the Range Rover, and heads for Chino.
It feels like he's running away again - seeing the familiar streets and houses of Orange County disappearing right before his very eyes. Fresh-off-the-market Lexus's and Mercedes Benz SUV's give way to rusted '79 Chevy's and Ford pickups with peeling paint; three-story mansions with sprawling green lawns and in-ground pools to split-level ranch houses with barely enough room for a scrap of browning grass. Seth can't help but get a bit freaked as tough-looking groups of men and boys of various ages, some obviously packing heat, eye his car, no doubt wondering how much money they could get for it. He tries not to stare, but he has to admit that he doesn't exactly see tattooed, gun-toting black guys wandering around Newport every day.
Through some sort of miracle, Seth manages to find Ryan's old house, where he and Theresa are now living. And as he turns down the street, somehow he's not surprised to see Ryan standing at the end of the driveway, shaggy mop of hair shining a brilliant gold in the late afternoon sunlight like some sort of beacon in the bleakness that has been Seth's life since he's been away. He pulls in, and he doesn't feel like he's running away anymore.
He's running home.
Author: Angelus
E-mail: (Please put "The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most" on the subject line.)
Subject: The O.C.
Category: R, A. R/S.
Rating: PG for slashiness.
Summary: Seth returns to Newport, but things are nowhere near where they're supposed to be.
Spoilers: "The Ties That Bind"
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: Seth, Summer, Anna, Ryan, Marissa, Luke, Sandy, Kirsten, Theresa, Trey, Arturo, etc. are all property of Fox Television, College Hill Pictures, Josh Schwartz, etc. Sadly, the only thing benefiting from this is my brain in creating more Adam Brody fantasies.
Author's notes: This began as a contribution for the FifteenMinuteFiclet LJ group, but after my initial ficlet, I revised and expanded it, and realized that it would be the perfect prologue for my "The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most" fic, which should be developing itself fairly quickly in the weeks to come. Hope you enjoy. If you're at all interested in reading the original piece that spawned this one, you can find it on the community "15minuteficlets", under the comments section for picture #15 (sorry, but won't let me use html to put a link in here).
Dedication: To Lisa, for being an awesome roommate.
As far as Seth is concerned, his life can be divided into two distinct eras: pre-Ryan and post-Ryan. Pre-Ryan was not a good time, filled with teasing and swirlies and lunches eaten alone. Most things were done alone, in fact. But Ryan waltzing into his life had changed all that. All of the sudden, he had a friend; a best friend. Somebody that hung out with him because he wanted to, not because he had to; someone who liked comic books and skateboarding, who understood his humor, who complemented him in every way. Despite his questionable taste in music, Ryan was about the most perfect best friend he could ask for.
And now, suddenly, he's gone. Seth has tried hating Theresa, but it quickly becomes clear that that isn't going to work, because logically, he understands why Ryan had to go. Not that it makes him any less angry about it. This is senior year coming up; it's supposed to be the time of his life. How is he supposed to have the time of his life without Ryan? So, he takes the coward's way out - he leaves. The second the boat leaves the dock, he knows it was the wrong thing to do. But Seth is always doing the wrong thing, so the last thing he wants to do is admit that he's made the wrong decision once again.
He doesn't exactly know what he's doing or where he's going, so he spends several days sailing around aimlessly, enjoying the feel of the sea salt on his lips and the wind through his hair. Sailing has always been his escape, ever since his dad taught him how to pilot a boat by himself at age ten. But after awhile, the sea starts to lose its thrill, and he decides that he needs a plan. Besides that, his supplies are running low, and he's developing a sunburn on the back of his neck, and he's in desperate need of a shower. So with no real reason, he makes his way down to Mexico. Might as well make a vacation out of it.
He sails right past Tijuana, as he's had quite enough of that place for one lifetime, and ends up in Mazatlan. His parents were there once; it's supposed to have beautiful architecture, rich history, lots of culture - somehow the only thing adults notice about a foreign country. But Seth doesn't see much of it outside of the cheap motel room he finds the second he docks. He takes full advantage of the lack of drinking laws, however; now there's culture. He wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and the recollection that Luke has recently moved to Portland, and owes him more than a few favors. He showers, re-stocks the boat, and is on his way before noon. Luke is, to say the very least, surprised to see Seth. He invites him in without question, however, and when Seth not-so-subtly hints that he needs a place to crash, Luke quickly offers him the guest room.
Although it's summer, and he hasn't started his new school yet, Luke always seems to have something going on, be it soccer practice or parties with the team or lifeguarding at the local pool. He tries to include Seth, but after one party spent huddled in a corner nursing a lukewarm beer, watching jocks head-butt each other, Seth politely declines any other invitations. For someone who hasn't had an actual social life since...well, ever, even during the school-year, Seth isn't used to this constant motion thing; he prefers to spend his time playing video games, reading comic books, sleeping, staring at the wall.... Every once and awhile, Luke will give him a look, then open his mouth as if he wants to say something. He always seems to think better of it at the last minute, though, and closes his mouth and walks away.
Living with Luke can only last so long; despite the uneasy truce that they formed last year, the pure and simple fact that remains is that he and Luke just don't like each other. Not only that, but they have absolutely zero in common. If they had been back in Newport, Seth thinks he probably would be making more of an effort; but that would be because Ryan was there, urging him to. But Ryan is gone, leaving Seth without the energy to handle the soccer player's bruised ego with care. He is civil to him; he figures he owes him that much for letting him mooch.
It's late August before Luke finally says something. Of course, he has the situation completely misinterpreted, but that's to be expected. He finds Seth sprawled out on his bed, surrounded by dirty clothes, empty take-out containers, and comic books, a video game controller clutched in his hand. He's pretty sure he hasn't left the bed in at least a few days, and he wouldn't say anything otherwise, but the room is seriously beginning to smell, and the sight before him is pretty pathetic - even more pathetic than he thought was possible coming from Seth Cohen, which is saying a lot in Luke's eyes.
"Dude," he says. "If you miss her that much, just tell her."
Seth doesn't bother to correct Luke's choice in pronouns; it's clear that he thinks Seth is depressed over Summer, or Anna, or both. If he knew the truth, he'd probably have an aneurysm. That, of course, makes Seth briefly consider telling him, just for his own amusement, but it would probably just make him feel bad, as much as the other boy has done for him. Even if he thought that Luke wouldn't be bothered by the fact, however, Seth's pretty sure he wouldn't tell him. This thing between he and Ryan is special, private, and complicated as hell - he's not even sure he can explain it. And not knowing where Ryan stands isn't helping matters much.
But Luke's suggestion makes Seth think (though the irony of that situation is not lost on him). Maybe it is that simple. Maybe he, Ryan, and Theresa can be one big, happy family. And maybe Summer will join the army. But, really, there's no harm in telling him, is there? Seth thinks he owes him at least that much. It's funny how much he owes people lately - Ryan, Luke, Summer, Anna, his parents....yes, so running away wasn't the most mature decision in the world. It's not like he didn't already know that. But now he's going back. That has to count for something, right?
The decision made, Seth sets about washing his clothes and packing them, along with his other meager belongings, into his water-proof duffel bag. He and Luke exchange manly, back-slapping hugs, and he's on his way before eleven the next morning. Time passes quickly this time, and it seems like only a few minutes have passed before he's approaching his home dock. Home. With a rueful smile, he sets about docking the Summer's Breeze, the familiar task easing his apprehensions - at least for a few minutes. When he's finished, he stands, surveying his hometown from the shoreline. It's a beautiful town, he'll give it that; and from down here, it looks so quiet - so peaceful. Seeing it this way makes him feel like maybe things aren't so fucked-up after all.
But as he's making his way down his street, passing Luke's old house, Summer's, Marissa's, he rescinds that brief moment of ignorant bliss. Things are fucked-up.
He doesn't ring the bell of his house to let his parents know that he's home. Instead, he fishes the spare car key out of his pocket, starts up the Range Rover, and heads for Chino.
It feels like he's running away again - seeing the familiar streets and houses of Orange County disappearing right before his very eyes. Fresh-off-the-market Lexus's and Mercedes Benz SUV's give way to rusted '79 Chevy's and Ford pickups with peeling paint; three-story mansions with sprawling green lawns and in-ground pools to split-level ranch houses with barely enough room for a scrap of browning grass. Seth can't help but get a bit freaked as tough-looking groups of men and boys of various ages, some obviously packing heat, eye his car, no doubt wondering how much money they could get for it. He tries not to stare, but he has to admit that he doesn't exactly see tattooed, gun-toting black guys wandering around Newport every day.
Through some sort of miracle, Seth manages to find Ryan's old house, where he and Theresa are now living. And as he turns down the street, somehow he's not surprised to see Ryan standing at the end of the driveway, shaggy mop of hair shining a brilliant gold in the late afternoon sunlight like some sort of beacon in the bleakness that has been Seth's life since he's been away. He pulls in, and he doesn't feel like he's running away anymore.
He's running home.