So, I've had this story working in my head for a while now and I guess I'm a little stuck on my other story or I just can't get this one out of my head, so I decided to just start and write it. I'm not giving up on Downward Spiral. Don't worry! I'll update soon. I just had to start kicking this one around. It's set after the season finale and is my not so nice version of how Sandy brings Ryan home. I don't know where I'm going with this, so it'll depend on people's reactions.
As usual: The O.C. belongs to Fox and Josh Schwartz and I'm just taking my liberties.
They hadn't stopped crying since Ryan had left. When Theresa's yellow convertible had pulled away with Ryan in the front seat, Kirsten had gone to the pool house to pull off the dirty linen but instead she had just sat and cried and cried until Sandy came to hold her in his arms. That was before they had noticed the notes left on Seth's night table. Four days later, countless of phone calls between the Newport police department and the Coast Guard and the tears still hadn't dried up.
Sandy had never been so grateful for Caleb Nichol. It was no secret that he hated his father-in-law, but Caleb's power had lit a fire under the lackadaisical police department and the coast guard so that bringing Seth Cohen home became their number one priority. They had tried the, "he's seventeen and will come home as soon as he sees how hard the streets are," routine, but Sandy knew his son. He knew Seth had a stubborn streak and he knew that without Ryan, Seth would not want to come home.
The tears still hadn't dried up, even though Seth was on the way home, because their family wasn't complete. Ryan was still in Chino, refusing to return. Even after he had heard that Seth had run away. He had asked Sandy and Kirsten if there was anything he could do. When they had said, come home, he had sadly shook his head and said, "you know I can't do that. Theresa and the baby need me. I'll visit when he comes back."
So Sandy had left it at that. But inwardly, he kept kicking himself for letting Ryan go. Had Seth asked if he could go sailing to Tahiti, Sandy and Kirsten would never have let. How could a seventeen-year-old manage on the vast Pacific Ocean on his own? How could Ryan, seventeen-years-old, manage to support a girlfriend and a child? Sandy knew he had failed Ryan as a parent, but he had a plan to bring both his sons home.
"What are we going to say to Seth when he comes home?" Kirsten asked weakly. She had red rims all around her eyes. The lids were swollen from so much crying.
"That he's grounded until he goes off to college, if we even let him go off to College."
Kirsten offered a wan smile. "Seriously Sandy."
"I'm serious about grounding him. He was being selfish and stupid. He could've been killed on that tiny little boat out in the ocean."
They were sitting by the pool staring at the chlorine colored pool. Kirsten was squinting into the sun, trying to avoid looking at the pool house where Ryan had slept only a few days ago.
"I think we'll have to calm down a little bit. It won't get us anywhere if we go off on him."
Sandy sighed.
"I'm glad he's coming home."
"Maybe Ryan will come to…. visit?" Kirsten asked hopefully.
"I'm going there today," Sandy said. "And I'm bringing him home." He wore a determined expression on his face.
"How are you going to do that?" Kirsten placed her hand over Sandy's fist. She wanted to believe him. She wanted so much for her family be complete again.
"Don't worry, honey. I have a plan." He looked out beyond the gate of the backyard, which looked over the ocean. He recalled how impressed Ryan had been when he had first arrived, even though he had refused to admit it. He had tried to act so cool. "I should never have let him go," Sandy said softly. "As his guardian, I should have insisted that he stay here and we'd figure out this whole Theresa debacle together."
He stood abruptly, nearly knocking the sturdy patio chair over. "I told Ryan I would meet him at Theresa's place at one. He said he has a job interview at two." He lightly kissed the top of his wife's head and waved good-bye. He hoped his plan would work.
Sandy alternated listening to the news, talk radio, and some of Seth's favorite tunes on the long ride to Chino. He knew how he would get Ryan to come back, but he didn't have all the details worked out. Namely, Theresa. Ryan wouldn't have a choice, he would have to return with Sandy, but he would still want to remain loyal to Theresa.
He had to admit that he admired his foster son's loyalty. But Ryan didn't realize how much responsibility it was to raise a child. When Seth had come, Kirsten had only been about twenty-three and he had been in his late twenties, and they had barely coped. There had been sleepless nights, and constant crying, dirty bottles littering the sink, and they had both been elbow deep in dirty diapers. But Kirsten had finished college and he had finished law school and even if they weren't living well, they had the means and ability to support themselves and a child. Ryan and Theresa didn't have a high school diploma. How on earth were they going to support a child?
Sandy tried to push the rambling thoughts from his head, because he could feel his shoulders and neck tensing as the car sped along the highway. He was clenching the steering wheel so tightly, that his knuckles were white like a ghost. When he confronted Ryan he had to be calm and even toned. Ryan did not respond well to anger. Anytime he had rebuked Ryan over the year the boy had lived with them, he had to remember to soften it with kind words, because in his life before Ryan had only known anger and fury.
Sandy pulled up to Theresa's house, which was next door to the house that Dawn had abandoned her son. He wondered how Ryan could stand living there. It looked like another family had moved in. There were toys scattered in the front yard and laundry hung on a line roped along two trees. He tried to picture someone hanging out their laundry in Newport, but he knew it would never happen.
"Hey Sandy."
Theresa was sitting on the front porch, her feet resting on a small footstool. She started to get up, but he could see she was tired and waved at her to sit back down. He pulled off his sunglasses, folded them and put them in his jacket pocket. It was too hot for a suit, but Sandy had an appointment with a client later that afternoon.
"Theresa," he said with a genuine smile, he bore no hard feelings to the poor confused girl. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired," she admitted with a smile. "Nauseous. Morning sickness must be a euphemism, because I'm nauseous all day long."
"Kirsten was like that when she was pregnant with Seth. It passed after the first trimester."
"Well, I'm passed that Mr. Cohen. I just started my fourth month."
Sandy had never asked when this baby had been conceived, though if it was Ryan's child it had to be during the time Marissa and Ryan weren't together because of the Oliver disaster. Ryan wasn't the type to cheat on his girlfriend. Not that the two had been apart very long, but apparently it had been long enough for him to bed his first love.
"Ryan's inside straightening up. I'm sure the two of you want some alone time. So just go right in."
Sandy patted Theresa on the shoulder and turned the knob on the front door and let himself in. The room was simply decorated with a raggedy brown sofa and a matching chair. There were bookcases made of pressed wood lined up against the wall, with tattered books and magazines spilling off the shelves.
Ryan was standing in middle of the room with an upright vacuum cleaner in one hand and the chord in the other. His back was to Sandy and he didn't notice his foster father until Sandy came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. Ryan jumped five feet in the air.
"I didn't mean to scare you," Sandy said as Ryan shut off the vacuum.
"'Skay. I just thought I was alone. Theresa is supposed to be resting on the porch."
"She's doing a fine job of resting. I didn't let her get up for me."
"Thanks. She's on her feet all day waiting on tables. If we didn't need the money—" Ryan stopped mid sentence. He wasn't trying to ask Sandy for money and didn't want him to think that he was. He was surprised, but not upset, when Sandy made no offer for an extra income.
"You look tired," said Sandy.
"I've been working hard, trying to find work, running errands." Ryan sighed. "Can I get you a drink?"
Sandy shook his head. "What happened to your face?" He just noticed that there was a fading bruise on Ryan's cheek.
Ryan put up his hand by the bruise. "Eddie came over. We're not exactly on the best of terms."
Sandy let out an exasperated sigh. He wanted to lecture to say something, but he stopped himself. He was there to end this madness not to perpetuate it. "Seth will be coming home tonight. The police in Catalina put him on the first flight home."
"I'm glad. I'm glad he's safe." Ryan studied the tassels on the edge of the rug.
"Kirsten is putting together a big dinner. We'd both like it if you were there. Seth too."
"She's cooking?" Ryan asked, changing the subject on purpose.
Sandy waggled his brows. "She's serious about those cooking lessons," he smirked. But don't change the subject. Will you come for dinner?"
Ryan noticed that Sandy wasn't inviting Theresa. "I have a job interview. I can't miss it. It's too good an opportunity."
"Let's sit Ryan." Sandy hitched up his slacks and sank into the sagging couch. "We need to talk."
If he had been yelling, Ryan would have thought he was in trouble. Like the time he had unfairly tackled Luke Ward on the soccer field. But Ryan recognized the tone anyway. It was his no nonsense voice which left no room for argument. So Ryan sat.
"Before you left last week, I told you that as your guardian, I didn't have to let you go."
Ryan nodded, not sure where this was going.
"I let you go, because I knew this was something you had to do. But I made a mistake. Your seventeen-years-old you're not equipped to handle what's coming."
"I know this is going to be hard," Ryan admitted. "But I have to do this."
"You don't even know if this kids is yours."
"It doesn't matter if its mine or not."
"Yes it does. You are not going to throw your life away for someone else's kid."
"Sandy," Ryan started to object.
"No. You're going to listen to me. Kirsten and I want you to come home."
"I can't do that. Theresa needs me. If it's not my kid, I'll deal with it then. I'm thinking of asking her to marry me." Ryan refused to meet Sandy's eyes and studied his hands. They were smooth and soft, but he knew that wouldn't last long as soon as he started working construction. They would be calloused and hard. They would ache. He would be sore all over. Nothing like the life he had led the past year living with the Cohens. They hadn't even let him hold a part time job during the school year, saying it would interfere with his schoolwork.
If Sandy wasn't sure about what he was planning to do, he was sure of it now. No way was he going to let Ryan flush his life down the toilet by getting married at seventeen.
"Ryan, you're coming home."
"Sandy," Ryan started desperately, as desperate as he sounded when his mother told him to get out of the house and he asked, "but mom, where am I supposed to go?" Sandy stopped him with an upheld hand.
"Listen to me, Ryan. You're still on probation. And I'm your guardian." Sandy had hoped he would be able to convince Ryan to return to Newport without resorting to blackmail, but he would do anything to keep his family together. "If you don't come home with me tonight, I'm going to report you as a runaway and that will mean you're in violation of your probation. If you're brought in, it could mean going back to the Juvenile Detention Center."