THE OC :: Can't Let Go
Plot: -ONE SHOT- Set minutes before Marissa's funeral. "I'm so screwed up…You're screwed up as well. It's like the whole damn world is screwed up, now that she's gone…but we can't do anything about it but move on, right?" Ryan/Summer.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
A/N. I know it is a little late for this since Season 3 got over like…ages ago, but I really HAD to post this. So…R&R?
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Numb.
That was how Ryan felt, since Marissa died. He was too shocked to cry, too stunned to react and too heartbroken to move on. Life without Marissa felt too mechanical, like he was living for the sake of living.
He felt his goals, hopes and aspirations go down the drain. What was the point? Nothing could bring him happiness anymore.
Happiness.
The emotion appeared so alien to him. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed. As Marissa's death had caused all the laughter in his system to die.
Anger.
When the mixture of emotions bottled up inside got too hard to control, he would slip on his boxing gloves. Boxing seemed to be the temporary solution to get rid of the steam. There were so many people he wanted to punch. Volchok, for murdering her.
But more than Volchok, there was one person he was more angry at.
That was himself. As most of all, he blamed himself for what had happened. He had been there when she'd died. Yet, he couldn't do anything but watch her die.
It was at this point, when his fists were clenched from thinking of it all, Marissa's face would flash in his mind.
He could picture her in his mind, with her long dirty blond locks and her eyes. Her piercing blue eyes that crinkled in the corners when she smiled, widened when she was frightened and bore into him, making his heart beat increase.
A series of conversations flashed in his mind. Especially their first one:
"Who are you?
"Whoever you want me to be."
Those words would echo again and again in his ears, until he could breathe no more. Sit no more. Stand it no more.
Because that was when he realized how much he still missed her.
He was at the beach, staring into the depths of the ocean.
He didn't know why he had decided to come here. But since he did, his gaze didn't waver from the ocean. It seemed to rush back and forth, forming huge waves. But that wasn't what drew him to the ocean.
It was its color. Due to the sun's reflection, it was the darkest shade of aquamarine, that wasn't exactly all that dark but was definitely not baby blue either. Mingled with flecks of green, the color hypnotized him. It was the color of Marissa's eyes.
He felt as though she was gazing at him, trying to tell him something.
Yet, before he could figure out what it was, he heard a voice that sounded chirpy despite all that had happened. He recognized the voice.
His head turned around, acknowledging her presence with a flicker of recognition. His lack of words didn't seem to bother her.
"Atwood!" she called, walking towards him. Her long, straight reddish brown locks that were normally perfectly set were flying with the wind. She didn't seem to care.
Marissa death seemed to have changed everyone's priorities.
"Summer," Ryan said quietly, as she walked towards him. It was only when she was close enough did Ryan realize that Summer did not look as chirpy as she sounded. There were huge bags under her eyes, and she looked paler than normal.
"What are you doing here?" Summer demanded, barely acknowledging his greeting.
Ryan shrugged.
"Is there somewhere I have to be?" he asked, his voice sounding emotionless. She looked breathless, as though she had run a long race just to see him.
Summer looked like she didn't know whether to look angry or sorry for him. Finally, she sighed, looking frustrated.
"Marissa's funeral is in ten minutes," she finally reminded him, trying hard to hide her accusing tone. "Aren't you coming?"
"I'm not," he said shortly, but it wasn't because he didn't care.
It was because he couldn't bear to look at her lifeless body knowing that this would be the last time he was seeing her. This shouldn't be happening. They were supposed to be together forever.
Summer however, seemed to assume the worst, as her expression changed from shocked to confused to almost pleading. Like she was going to break down any moment and she didn't even have the support she needed.
"She would've wanted you to come," Summer said quietly, not knowing what caused her to tell him that.
Yet, that only caused his insides to tighten all the more.
"I can't," he said roughly, and it was true. He couldn't see her again, dead or alive. He couldn't deal with what had happened. He couldn't let her go.
As short, snappy and monotonous as his replies were, Summer didn't turn away. Because she knew how he felt. That was exactly how she felt as well. Who knew they were so alike yet poles apart at the same time?
"Look, I know how you feel," Summer said, her voice filled with pain. "I spent almost like, every freakin' minute with her and now it's like…I don't know what to do with myself…"
She paused, fighting back the emotions that filled her heart.
"I miss her," Summer admitted quietly, her voice cracked. "And you do too."
She could feel him stiffen. Yet he was listening, as he felt as though his heart was speaking to him and not just Summer.
"I'm so screwed up," Summer said, letting out a bitter laugh. "You're screwed up as well. It's like the whole damn world is screwed up, now that she's gone…but we can't do anything about it but move on, right?"
She waited for Ryan to reply, but he didn't say anything.
"Come to the funeral," Summer urged him, her tone almost pleading. "Come…please…"
For a minute, he thought he would agree, go to the funeral and look at Marissa for the last time. He would stroke her hair, cry his eyes out and let go of all the emotions that filled his heart. Maybe by the time the funeral was over, he would get over her. He would accept what happened and move on.
A second later, he wanted to hit himself for thinking that.
"What's the use?" he finally asked, staring into Summer's moist eyes. "She's not coming back anyway."
A single tear ran down Summer's cheek.
"You can't hold on to her forever," she said quietly, shifting slightly, probably ready to head back to the funeral. "You have to let go of her someday…"
Her words lingered in his ears, even after she gave him one last look before walking in the opposite direction.
He stared at her, till she disappeared from view, as a new mixture of emotions overtook him. He thought of the good times with Marissa, the number of fights and misunderstandings they'd had and the number of times he had saved her life. Had that all been for nothing?
His gaze turned back to the ocean, as he was blinded by its color. A harsh blue with flecks of green…blinding…beautiful…stunning and hypnotizing…
He couldn't let go.
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