Title: Endings (1/2)
Date Written: 8/25/03
Author: JanetD
Rating: PG-13 (strong language)
Summary: This is a story about Ryan and his brother Trey.
Author's Notes: This story takes place approximately two months after Ryan has joined the Cohen household. His brother Trey is serving time in prison for stealing the car that night with Ryan, as well as for drug and gun offenses.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed from the TV show "The O.C.". No money is being made from this story. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental.

The Cohen family was just finishing up dinner. There was a lull in the conversation, and into the silence Ryan said, It's Trey's birthday this weekend. I thought I'd like to go and see him. Sandy and Kirsten exchanged a concerned glance, remembering how disastrously Ryan's last jailhouse visit with his brother had ended.

Kirsten said, He's up in...

Sandy said, finishing the sentence for her. It's, what, an hour-and-a-half or two-hour drive? Sure, Ryan, I could take you up there. We can go on Saturday.

Ryan smiled his gratitude.

I tell you what, I'll call the prison today and find out about visiting hours. He paused, then added. I suppose you were thinking about getting Trey something for his birthday?

Ryan nodded.

Well, maybe Kirsten can take you shopping after school today.

Kirsten agreed pleasantly.

Ryan replied.

There was a small silence, and then Sandy said, So, it's going to be Trey's birthday. How old will he be?



Kirsten and Sandy exchanged another glance--in prison and just turning twenty-one; the kid's life was over before it had even gotten started.

----+----

Later that night as Kirsten and Sandy lay curled together in bed, Kirsten asked worriedly, Do you think it's a good idea? Ryan going to see Trey? You remember what happened last time.

Sandy wrapped his arm around his wife and pulled her closer. Trey's his brother, honey. We can't keep him from seeing his brother. It wouldn't be right.

I know, but--

Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen. Trey's in prison, remember? It's not like he can snatch Ryan or do him any harm. All he can do is talk to him.

Kirsten thought for a second. Well, at least promise me you won't leave Ryan alone with him, okay? I want to make sure you hear everything that boy says to him.

All right, if it will make you feel better...

It will.

Then it's a done deal.

Feeling somewhat reassured, Kirsten allowed herself to relax into her husband's embrace, and closed her eyes.

----+----

Ryan and Sandy were in the car on their way to the state prison in Lancaster. As Ryan stared out the window, he thought about the last time he'd seen his older brother. It had been a day or two after his mother had abandoned him. He'd asked Mr. Cohen to take him to visit Trey in the county jail, and Sandy had agreed. Now, as Ryan watched the brown blur of scenery pass by, he replayed the painful encounter in his head...

(two months earlier)

When Ryan and Sandy walked into the visitor's room at the county jail, Trey was sitting there waiting for them. He wore an orange jumpsuit. His hair was mussed, and he was still wearing the ring in his eyebrow that had been there the night of his arrest. He looked up expectantly as Ryan and Sandy entered.

Sandy hung back while Ryan took a seat across from his brother.

Hey, Rye, said Trey. Then flicking his eyes to where Sandy stood several feet away, he asked, Who's that?

That's Mr. Cohen. He's my lawyer.

Then Trey noticed the bruises around Ryan's left eye and the split lip. He gestured with a hand, and said Where'd you get those? The cops didn't rough you up, did they?

No, no. I, uh, I got in a fight with a couple assholes. I'm okay.

Yeah? Well I hope you gave them as good as you got, Ryan. I can't have people thinking my brother got beat up by a couple jack-offs.

No, I...I did okay.

That seemed to satisfy Trey, and he changed the subject. he said, a note of accusation creeping into his voice, I see you got out. The old lady didn't come through for me. She told my PD I could rot in here for all she cared... The bitch!

So, you haven't seen her? Ryan asked, anxious to hear his brother's reply.

No, I just told you. She screwed me over.

She's gone, Trey.

What do you mean,

She took off. Mr. Cohen got me out of jail on Friday and that afternoon Mom kicked me out of the house. I didn't have anywhere to go, so Mr. Cohen took me in.... Then on Sunday when he took me back home, the house was empty. Everything was gone; Mom had moved out.

Trey snorted in disgust. What a worthless bitch. Shit... She didn't leave a note, or anything?

Hearing his brother's question brought the pain of that moment back forcefully to Ryan---the deserted house, the damning note. He struggled to keep the emotion out of his voice, as he answered. She left a note, but it just said she was fed up with both of us, and couldn't take it anymore...that she and A.J. were going to make a fresh start. And...she said she, she was sorry...

Sorry, huh? I bet.... So, where are you now? They put you in some crappy children's home?

No...not yet anyway. The Cohens are letting me stay with them for a few days, but if Mom doesn't show up soon, they'll have to turn me over to Children's Services.

Trey shook his head again. That's a tough break, bro. You, stuck in fucking foster care while I'm stuck here.... You know, I had my lawyer call Jo-Jo and Kevin and a few other of my buds, but nobody's willing to pony-up the bail money for me to get out of this shithole. He gave Ryan a penetrating look. What about you, Rye? You got any money stashed away?

Ryan's regret showed in his voice. No. I'm sorry, Trey.

Trey glanced over at Sandy speculatively. Well, what about this new lawyer pal of yours? Maybe you can get the money from him?

The younger boy looked pained. I can't do that, Trey. I can't ask Mr. Cohen for that kind of money.

Yeah, well, Trey said dismissively, with his job he probably doesn't have two cents to rub together anyway. Ryan didn't bother to correct his brother's misimpression.

Suddenly a sly look came over Trey's face, and he leaned in closer to his brother in a conspiratorial fashion. Look, Ryan, I know how you can get the cash. You know Kieser's Pawn Shop on Fifth? Well, go in there and ask for Marty. Tell him you're my brother. He can fix you up with a cheap piece. Then tonight, at closing time, you hold up that liquor store on Washington Ave. I hear it's an easy mark.

Ryan stared at his brother in stunned disbelief, but tried to keep his voice low as he replied. Are you nuts, Trey?! I can't hold up a liquor store to get you bail money.

Trey's expression turned ugly, and he slammed the flat of his hand down hard against the table top. The sound brought Sandy to full attention. He had been leaning against a wall trying to give the brothers some privacy, but now he straightened, and looked hard at Trey. He heard the older boy's voice rise angrily, as he said, I always knew you were a gutless little bitch, Ryan. I guess you're proving me right.

Trey stood up, and Sandy moved forward, not sure what the younger man intended. But Trey made no threatening move toward his brother, just stood there, shaking his head in disgust. Then he yelled at Ryan, Get out of here! You hear me? Get the hell out! I don't want to see you back here again, you worthless little piece of shit!!

Ryan sat speechless, his face reflecting his shock and distress. Sandy moved up and laid a hand on his shoulder. Come on, Ryan. Let's go.

Sandy led the way out of the room. As they approached the doorway, Ryan cast one last glance at his brother. Trey stared back at him with palpable anger. Ryan paused, and it took Sandy laying a gentle hand on his back to get him moving again. Then they were through the doorway, leaving the furious Trey behind them.

As Ryan and Sandy emerged from the jail into the parking lot, Sandy asked, What happened back there, Ryan? Why did Trey blow up like that?

Ryan didn't respond, so Sandy tried again. Come on. Tell me. What set him off?

Ryan's earlier look of shock and dismay had disappeared. Now his face looked hard as he said flatly, He wanted me to rob a liquor store to get him money for bail.

Now it was Sandy's turn to stare in shock. He shook his head in disbelief, and then led the way to the car without another word.

----+----

It was almost noon when Sandy and Ryan reached the prison in Lancaster. They made their way through successive security stations and endured multiple security checks. It all went more quickly than Sandy had expected, and they were soon seated at an empty table in the large visitor's room. Two plastic bags sat at Ryan's feet. They contained the items he'd brought for Trey. The contents had been carefully inspected--twice--and had been judged as falling within the guidelines covering a prisoner's personal effects. Glancing around, Ryan realized that about half the tables were occupied by visitors and the family members or friends they were there to see. There were wives and girlfriends, parents, and children.

Ryan wondered idly if anybody else was here visiting their brother, like he was. He was a little apprehensive about what kind of reception he might receive from Trey. After all, his mother had told him that Trey had refused to see her, and he and Trey hadn't exactly parted on good terms last time. But Ryan also knew that though his brother's anger flared up easily and burned brightly, it usually dissipated just as quickly. Not that Trey wasn't capable of holding a grudge--he was--but Ryan didn't think that would be the case here.

Ryan musings were interrupted by the sight of Trey being escorted into the room. His brother was wearing the same outfit as the rest of the prisoners--a pair of jeans and a lightweight, short-sleeved denim shirt with California State Penitentiary emblazoned on both front and back. It had been more than two months since Ryan had seen his brother, and the only change he could really detect was that Trey's hair was a little longer than the last time they'd met.

Trey spotted Ryan, and smiled. Coming forward, he slipped effortlessly into the seat across from his brother. He glanced once at Sandy, then seeming to decide to ignore his presence, he turned his full attention to his brother, and said with good humor, Ryan, you little shit, how ya doin'?

Ryan smiled. Fine, Trey. How about you? They treating you okay?

Trey shrugged. Can't complain. You know how it is in these places, Ryan. If you've got brains, you make out okay. And I've got brains.

Ryan nodded.

Trey said, glancing at Sandy before continuing, I got a letter from Mom. She told me you're going to live with those people in Newport Beach from now on.

Ryan felt embarrassed by how his brother was so obviously ignoring Sandy's presence, and quickly added, This is Mr. Cohen. You remember him, don't you?

Trey gave Sandy an appraising look, and then said without warmth, Yeah, I remember him. He offered no other greeting, and Ryan ducked his head in chagrin. But Sandy only's reaction was mild amusement at the snub.

Trey turned back to Ryan. So, I guess you lucked out, little brother. You must be living on Easy Street in a place like Newport Beach. Then with the slightest note of concern in his voice, he asked, They're treating you all right, aren't they, Rye?

Yeah, they treat me fine, Trey. I--he shot a look at Sandy--I'm happy there.

Well, that's something.

There was a pause and then Ryan said, Oh, I almost forgot. He reached down for one of the plastic bags on the floor, and picked it up. Here. Happy birthday, Trey.

Ryan handed the bag across the table to his brother. Four or five CDs and a boxed CD player could be seen through the transparent plastic. Trey opened the bag, and looked through the contents.

Thanks, man. These are great. He looked at Ryan. I don't suppose you thought to bring me any smokes?

Ryan smiled triumphantly, and produced the second bag. A carton of cigarettes could be seen inside.

You rock, man, his brother said happily. These I can really use.

The brothers talked for another ten or fifteen minutes, and then seemed to run out of conversation. As the silence began to stretch to an uncomfortable length, Ryan said, Well, we should probably go. It was good seeing you, Trey.

His brother stood up. Yeah, good seeing you too, Rye. He gestured to the bags on the table. Thanks for coming, and for this stuff.

Ryan nodded, and he and Sandy got to their feet. Take care of yourself, okay? Ryan said.

No worries, little bro.



See ya, Ryan.

With that, Ryan and Sandy made their exit.

End Chapter One