2. Millstone

A/N: Don't own it. If I did, this never would've happened.

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Save my life tonight.
The ship of fools I'm on will sink
A millstone around my neck
Be my breath, there's nothing I wouldn't give

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Seth gently tugs at the pool house doors, apprehensively opening them for the first time all over again. He swallows thickly, taking a broad step out of the California sunlight and into Ryan's room. Seth squints as his eyes readjust to the darkness; all shades drawn, the only light seeping in from the open door at his side.

"Ryan?" Seth whispers hoarsely, wiping his clammy hands on the black dress pants he is wearing. He receives no answer; the only pervading sound is his heartbeat echoing in his own ears. Glancing around the room, Seth lets out a heavy sigh upon realizing that Ryan has been sitting in the chair not two feet to the left of him for the entire time.

"Ryan, buddy." Seth starts softy, taking in Ryan's disheveled appearance. This invincible, unbreakable boy is huddled on a less than comfortable piece of furniture, knees pressed into his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, hair sticking up every which way. And even though a streak of sunlight has managed to illuminate the deathly pale, lower half of Ryan's face, Seth knows that he is staring vacantly into a corner of the pool house.

Scrubbing his hands across his face, Seth continues. "Mom and Dad sent me in here to make sure you're showered, shaved, dressed, and ready to go in an hour, okay? So come on, let's get you up." Seth puts a hand on Ryan's knee, but much to his dismay he is not even acknowledged.

Ryan knows what day it is. As much as he pretends not to. As much as he tries to forget. He knows what day today is. His head pounds and he feels as if he's either going to explode or collapse into a heap of nothingness. He is awake and asleep all at once. And he tries. He tries to listen to Seth's words so hard. To simply nod and tell him that today is not really going to work for him, and that maybe he'll consider getting up in a couple of years. But Ryan is having enough trouble tuning out Marissa's pleads to stay with him on the side of an oil slicked road. He has no energy left to listen to Seth's static mumblings.

"Ryan, you haven't moved in two days." He hears Seth say. And he wants to shrug, but his shoulders sag, and his frame depends solely on the chair for support. "You haven't slept, you haven't eaten. I know, I know it's tough, but we're going to start slow okay? Let's just get you in the shower." Ryan wants to pat Seth on the back and tell him to go inside, and hit him as hard as he can for thinking that he has any clue about how he's feeling, all at the same time.

"I'm not going to lie to you Ryan, like Mom and Dad want me to." The voice continues, making Ryan crawl in his skin, making him itch to be anywhere and everywhere else. "It's going to be tough. And you're not going to want to see anybody, and you're not going to want anybody to see you." Ryan cringes, and he feels his stomach clench and his body wither at the mere thought of coming face to face with Julie.

"But I think you need to go Ryan. I think…I know she would want you to be there." Ryan inhales sharply, feeling lightheaded, transient, unworthy. "You can leave right after, if you want, and come back here. Summer and I can come with you, if you're feeling up to it." Pangs of shame shoot through Ryan's body as he remembers Summer for the first time in four days. Realizes that she's going to suck it up, because she's strong enough to make it through today. He knows he is not. "You'll regret it if you don't go." Seth whispers, now crouched in front of Ryan.

Ryan's red rimmed eyes forcefully lock on Seth, glaring at him as his parted lips tremble with each hurried and uneven breath. "I am not going to put Marissa into the ground Seth." He spits vehemently, his mind flashing with images of the girl that used to be so optimistic, so full of energy. So alive. His heart tightens as he continues, letting his own words resonate in his mind. "I'm not going to pack her away in a box like she never even existed. I am not going to put her in the ground."

Ryan breathes deeply, as if all the air is being sucked out of his lungs. He watches Seth purse his lips and press his fingers into his temples, and he tries to wish him away. Because he is so very tired of the Cohens telling him what's best.

Maybe it's best you throw those clothes away Ryan. Maybe it's best you get rid of her things Ryan. Maybe it's best you put those pictures away Ryan. It's like they are all trying to erase her from their memories. He can't understand it. He can't understand how putting a picture in a drawer can ever possibly expunge her from his mind.

He can't forget. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want to forget how she smiled at him, how many freckles she had dappled across the bridge of her nose, how her eyes lit up whenever they were together.

A small voice snaps him out of his thoughts and back into reality. "I'll…I'll tell Mom and Dad." Ryan sighs weakly and shuts his eyes. He knows that Seth is waiting for a response, but he's been sucked back into a pocket of time, sucked back into his refurbished Jeep; to the side of the road, where he can feel the heat from the fire pressing into his back; where he can feel sticky, dark red blood matting her soft, honey blonde hair.

But in this moment it doesn't matter. Because he can remember exactly what it feels like when her chest rises and falls, inhales and exhales, and this is all that is important to him. He doesn't want to think about Julie having to bury her daughter, Kaitlin burying her sister, Summer burying her best friend, because as far as he is concerned, he is not burying anyone. He is not hiding anyone in his drawers.

Ryan hears the pool house door click shut, sees the light drain out of his room, feels the heat drain out of his body. He knows Seth has left. He knows no one will bother him.

He knows he is alone.

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R/R.