Rating:
General
Summary:
Kirsten realises the gaps in her relationship with Ryan after he is
attacked and robbed.
Disclaimer:
I don't own the O.C. characters or actors. This is a work of fiction
and not meant to infringe on any copyrights.
The fist came out of nowhere, hitting his cheekbone with enough force to snap his head back.
A strategically placed foot and a hard shove knocked him off balance and he went down hard, hitting his head on the edge of the curb.
A hooded figure rifled through his pockets before making off with his bag.
Living with the Cohens, Ryan had let his guard down.
He'd been able to walk down the street without one hand on his wallet and his radar on high alert, scanning the area for someone who might try and jump him.
Sure Newport had its problems, but most battles took place in a courtroom and it was the defendant's wallet that took the hit.
…
"Hey mom, where's Ryan?"
Seth was home after spending the afternoon at Summer's 'studying'. It was getting late, and Ryan wasn't answering his phone.
She hardly saw either of the boys these days. Soccer and after school clubs, homework and girlfriends seemed to occupy most of their free time- she'd been looking forward to a quiet evening with her family
"I called and asked him to pick up the Chinese food after his practice."
Kirsten spoke calmly, but she was pacing around the kitchen- straightening the empty ornamental canisters and wiping the spotless island with a perfectly clean cloth.
"It's almost 7… Wasn't soccer over at like 4:30?"
"I hope nothing's happened to him…" Kirsten answered; her face was pale.
"Don't worry honey. The Red Dragon's always pretty busy; he's probably just caught in a line up," Sandy said soothingly, but he glanced at his watch and chewed his lip.
"But why hasn't he answered his phone? He always answers, or calls when he's going to be late- unlike some people."
"Oh yeah, sorry about that. Summer and I were so wrapped up in uh- quadratic equations, I forgot the time."
The phone rang and Kirsten pounced on it immediately, Seth's transgression pushed from her mind.
"Ryan?"
"No ma'am, this is Officer Detorro from the Orange County police department calling. Does a Ryan Atwood live here?"
Her stomach sank at the man's words. A call from the police department was never good. Ryan missing on top of a call from the police department was even worse.
"Yes, he's my foster son. Is he okay? Is he in trouble?"
Sandy and Seth were standing inches away from Kirsten, straining to hear the voice on the other end.
"No ma'am, nothing like that. Could I please speak to Ryan?" the officer asked.
"He's not home. He's actually late and I haven't been able to get a hold of him on his cell. May I ask what this in regards to?"
"A wallet was found by the pier, along with an empty backpack and a pair of cleats. Ryan's student ID and driver's license were still in the wallet."
…
Apart from a couple of cars and a delivery truck, the parking lot was empty and oddly silent.
His body was lying in an awkward position with limbs strewn haphazardly, as though waiting to be outlined in chalk.
A few drops of blood trickled from his ear.
His eyes remained closed; his mouth was slightly agape in a silent scream.
…
"Try and relax Mrs. Cohen. I know this is very upsetting, but there has been an increase in the number of muggings in the area over the last few weeks, and none of the other cases involved abduction. He may have been injured and driven to the hospital, or he could have headed down to the station to file a report."
Kirsten wasn't comforted by his words. From what she knew about Ryan, the last place he'd go was the police station- even if he was the victim. He was also unlikely to seek medical attention unless he was severely injured, which was another unsettling possibility.
The receiver felt heavy in her hand. She clutched it tightly, as if to anchor herself in the present moment… to help her focus on the officer's words and keep from floating away.
Sandy was on the other line calling Ryan's coach, the school, Luke- anyone who might know where his son was.
Seth picked at a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve. He wanted to hop in the Rover and go find Ryan himself. Phone calls were all well and good, but at least one person should be actively scouring the streets looking for the missing Atwood. Unfortunately, he had left the vehicle at school with Ryan and gotten a ride with Summer.
Usually he tried not to think of his life before he met Ryan: the bullying, the isolation, the feeling of being an outsider…
It was hard to imagine that painful existence now that he'd experienced how life could be, after Ryan had joined the family.
He was frustrated by the whole situation; Ryan was supposed to have left muggings and kidnappings behind. Bad luck just seemed to follow him around.
It wasn't fair.
The fact that he was helpless to fix it made it all the more aggravating. He hated being helpless.
It was times like this that he almost resented his family's affluence.
Money had anesthetised him to much of the suffering the world had to offer. Now he could do nothing but feel, and dollars couldn't numb him to the pain.
…
Ryan sat up slowly and then got to his feet, fighting a wave of dizziness as he struggled to get his bearings.
His head hurt.
He put his hands in his pockets and swore when he realised his phone was gone, along with his keys and wallet.
He started walking.
His mind was muddled and his nerves were on edge, but his feet knew the way back to the Cohens, back to the pool house.
He was tired when he got back, and thankful that nobody locked their houses in the gated community.
He kicked his boots off and stretched out on the king-sized bed.
He just meant to rest for a minute, but his limbs were heavy and his head hurt and soon his eyes were closed.
…
"Summer, I need you to come pick me up."
"Cohen? I'm watching the Valley marathon, and my toenails are still wet…"
"It's- it's Ryan…"
Maybe it was the uncharacteristically short response, or the obvious distress in his voice, but whatever the reason Summer didn't protest, or even press him for more information.
"I'm leaving right now."
…
"Isn't that the Rover?" Summer asked, pointing to the back of the parking lot behind the Red Dragon.
Seth stumbled and fell as he hopped out of the moving car- it was hardly moving, and Summer would have laughed if the atmosphere hadn't been so tense.
He peered into the SUV, and frowned to see it was empty. He fished his keys out of his pocket and opened the door. Finding nothing in the backseat, he crawled back to check the trunk.
His thoughts were getting darker and his hope dimmer, as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.
He went back to the driver's side of Summer's car, and she lowered the window.
"He isn't in there… I'm not sure if that's good news or bad. I even checked the trunk."
"Brimming with optimism, aren't we?"
"I- I was just so sure we would find him… A part of me was convinced that it would all turn out to be a big misunderstanding and we would bring him home and eat cold Chinese and kill some ninjas. Now that my naivety has successfully been dropkicked… I don't know what to do."
"Call your parents, let them know we found the Rover… ask them if they've heard anything, if there's anything else we can do… don't lose your head, Cohen. He's going to be fine, he has to be."
…
They had driven back to the house separately, Seth taking the Rover and Summer still in her own car.
Sandy had asked Seth to come home and hold down the fort in case Ryan turned up; he and Kirsten were headed to the police station to formally file a missing person's report.
Summer gingerly extricated herself from her car, her freshly painted toes still separated by cotton balls.
Seth held her hand protectively as they walked up the driveway, suddenly aware of the dangers that lurked everywhere- apparently even in Newport.
They hovered in the kitchen for a while before heading upstairs to Seth's room.
They sat side by side on the edge of the bed.
For once Seth didn't feel like talking.
"Seth, you're bleeding."
She pointed to his leg. The denim was slightly torn at the knee, the fabric darkened with blood.
He looked down disinterestedly, slightly ashamed at having been injured in his pathetic tumble from her car.
"It doesn't hurt."
He went into the bathroom and came out a minute later, wearing only his boxers and an irritated expression.
"I couldn't find a band aid."
…
Sandy draped an arm around his wife, and tried to pay attention to what the officer was saying.
Kirsten was nodding and responding to Detorro with a 'yes' or 'no' when required, but her eyes looked faraway and her mouth was pulled into a tight line.
When Sandy squeezed her hand, she didn't respond.
…
"You're being a baby. Going into the pool house will not jinx Ryan's chances of coming back. Just go and see if there are any band aids in his bathroom. He punches and gets punched a lot, so he should have a first aid kit."
Seth leaned his head on her shoulder, but didn't say anything.
"Wait," he said as she got off the bed and headed for the door. "I'm coming too."
He reluctantly followed her down the stairs and out the door to the pool house. Opening the door to Ryan's quarters made him clench his jaw.
It felt premature- like pressing on a bruise that hadn't had time to appear.
He stepped into the room prepared to hurry, get the band aids, and leave as soon as possible- like when he was five and would run and leap into his bed at night, so the monsters wouldn't get him.
Seth thought he was hallucinating for a second when he saw the form lying on the bed, but Summer's sharp intake of breath confirmed what his own eyes were seeing.
Instantly they were by the bed, kneeling on opposite sides of their friend. Seth gently squeezed his shoulder, taking in the blood and bruising on Ryan's head while Summer laid a hand on his chest to make sure he was breathing.
He was lying so still…
"Trey?" Ryan finally said, opening his eyes slowly and looking around in confusion.
"Wuhhappened?"
"I'm here, man- it's Seth. It's so good to hear your voice."
"I should get my bag, don't wanna be late…" He slurred the words, and tried to stand, but Seth kept him from getting up.
"Whoa, just relax for a sec we're taking you to the hospital. I think you hurt your head, that's why you're confused."
Ryan looked even more puzzled at Seth's words, but he nodded and didn't try to get away.
"Ryan, do you remember going to soccer practice earlier?"
Summer spoke clearly and quietly, hoping the answer would be yes.
His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, before he slowly shook his head
"My head hurts…"
He closed his eyes again and tried to pull the covers over his head.
…
Kirsten couldn't believe none of them had thought to check the pool house first.
Sandy had been the one to tell the officer that Ryan had been found (and where) - she had been too embarrassed.
'He sleeps in the pool house."…
She didn't know the events preceding Seth and Summer's discovery, but guilt gnawed in the pit of her stomach.
Knowing that he had been hurt, and had gone where he felt the safest- not the main house where the Cohens were sure to be, but to the solitude of the pool house where he would suffer alone.
He still didn't think of their house as his house. His home.
And why should he? She had never pushed for him to take a room upstairs like Seth.
Sure, she had told herself repeatedly that Ryan liked having his own separate space, but he was still just a kid and what he wanted and what he needed weren't always the same.
If she let Seth do whatever he wanted, he'd play video games until he went blind and eat nothing but sugary cereal…
But she had always protected Seth.
Even from himself.
…
"Wow Dad you actually beat us to the hospital."
"Yeah well when one of my kids is hurt my foot gets a bit heavy."
They were waiting in a small room just off the entrance to the ER. A little boy had been wailing non-stop since they arrived, despite the best efforts of the woman bouncing him on her knee. She shushed soothingly at the child and smiled at them apologetically over the top of his head.
Noticing his bare legs, Kirsten gave her son an odd look.
"Seth, where are your pants?"
…
He was so tired.
Voices were saying his name, asking him questions…
He just wanted to sleep for a long, long time.
A bright light was shone into his eyes and he looked away, feeling like he'd just been reprimanded for talking at the movies.
"Ryan? Can you remember how you hurt your head?"
A doctor in blue scrubs laid a hand lightly on his shoulder, and he jumped a bit as the contact pulled him out of his stupor.
"Hmm?"
He was dizzy although he was almost lying down, the head of the bed at a subtle incline.
"You have a concussion. Your brother found you, and you were pretty confused. You're at the hospital."
The blurry figure was speaking slowly and carefully, but it still took him a minute to grasp what it was saying.
"Seth?" he slurred, sitting up and looking around.
A hand gently pushed him back onto the bed.
"Take it easy. Your family is in the waiting room. They'll be anxious to see you. I'll let them in as soon as I'm done evaluating you."
…
"It's okay Kirsten, it's just a purse. I have another one just like it in pink."
"Now you have it in green too," Seth smirked.
They had just discovered why Ryan had been clutching Summer's purse on the way to the hospital, and it wasn't pretty.
"Family of Ryan Atwood?"
The Cohens and Summer leapt to their feet. The genetic link may have been absent, but the love they had for him would never waver.
"I'm his father, Sandy Cohen," Sandy said, extending his hand to the doctor.
"Is he going to be okay?" Seth asked nervously.
"Should I have called an ambulance? Was it safe to drive him here by ourselves?" Summer wanted to know.
"Can we see him?" Kirsten chimed in hopefully.
The doctor lifted both hands in mock surrender at the barrage of questions.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Lundy," he replied, reaching over to shake Sandy's proffered hand.
He had a firm grip and Sandy somehow felt reassured, as if a good handshake meant a good doctor.
"Your brother has a concussion, but his CT scan was clear- there isn't any bleeding in his brain, and that's very good."
Seth nodded, turning over the doctor's words in his head. Bleeding in your brain was really bad, but concussions weren't exactly good either. Ryan had taken so many knocks to the head, sooner or later he was going to start sounding like Muhammad Ali.
"The important thing is that you got him here quickly. You made a judgement call- probably the same one I would have made. Your father will be proud," Dr. Lundy said, smiling reassuringly at Summer. She smiled back in relief, surprised he had remembered her.
"Follow me," he said, addressing Kirsten this time. "It might be best if just you go in for now. He's still a bit confused. We don't want to overwhelm him."
…
Ryan was lying down, holding an ice pack against his head.
"Hi sweetie, how are you feeling?" Kirsten asked in a voice much calmer than she felt. She resisted the urge to envelop Ryan in a big hug- he already looked dazed.
"I'm fine," he answered unconvincingly.
"The doctor said you'll probably have a bad headache for a while, but he's going to write you a prescription."
"Okay." He was still sleepy, and the medicine he'd been given was making him feel funny.
"Sandy's signing some papers, and then we'll take you home."
…
Kirsten had sent Seth and Summer home to make up the bed in the guest room and get Ryan's prescription filled- things that had to be done, but also served to keep them busy so she and her husband could focus on Ryan- because they needed to focus on Ryan.
He lay on his side in the backseat the whole way home.
Kirsten kept turning around to check on him, and Sandy watched him sleep in the rear view mirror as if to convince himself that Ryan was really okay.
They were both so relieved.
Even though Ryan had been hurt, they knew it could have been a lot worse. They could be driving home without him.
There was still time to make things better between them, and for that she was truly grateful.
Fin