disclaimer: Still not Josh in disguise

AN: This is for Katwoman76, who is awesome! Sorry for not posting this sooner, I had kind of hit a wall. Also, because I wanted to post as fast as possible, this is not beta-ed.

Dealing – chapter 6

Isolation

Ryan was pacing up and down in the pool house. Unnecessary movement was usually more Seth's forte, but right now he needed to move; it was the only thing that helped to fight the overwhelming urge to take of. Fight or flight, and this wasn't something he could fight.

Unfortunately, the Cohens would never just let him go, not now, so running wasn't an option either. He had no idea how he was supposed to deal with this crap. The pain in his hands alerted him to the fact that he had been clenching his fists so hard, the blunt nails had broken the skin. Making a conscious effort to relax, he took several deep breaths, spreading his fingers and concentrating once more on the sound of the waves outside. It didn't really help very much.

"Over the last two years, you have been there for us more often than we can count."

After that, he hadn't been able to stay inside with them. Their lack of understanding concerning his family was something he had long ago gotten used to, but he couldn't bear to listen to Sandy talking like that. Lying certainly wasn't going to make anything better. That's what it was, a lie. No matter how much he would like to think otherwise, he hadn't been there for them. He had only made everything worse. And just like that, all the doubts he had been trying to fight the last night had come back with a vengeance. His being here wasn't good for the Cohens. His problems with school might be solved, he might have a shot at college again, but that didn't change the fact that the Cohens would be better of without him. He stayed for Marissa, but he should have left for them.

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They were still looking at the pool house, watching Ryan pace behind the closed glass doors. They might have been see-through, but they still created a physical barrier between them. Considering how many emotional walls they would have to get through if they wanted to actually reach Ryan, Kirsten didn't think they needed another obstacle in their way. She pushed back her chair, ignoring the screeching sound it made when sliding over the floor, and got up.

"Honey?", her husband was looking at her questioningly, "Do you really think going after him right now is the best choice? He is very upset, maybe we ought to give him some time to settle down before broaching this subject again."

"Sandy, don't you realize that that's all we've been doing? When he told us he wanted to leave on that stupid boat, that's the approach we took, and it didn't work. Letting him deal with things without interfering means letting him get to his own conclusions. Well, we just heard what those conclusions are. I don't know about you, but I don't want him to come up with any other things to put himself down while he is brooding in there."

Her husband's eyes signalled understanding and agreement, a fact that she was grateful for. They needed to deal with Ryan; there was no time for fighting. "I'm going to go and get him back here."

She had almost reached the door to the patio when she felt her son's hand on her arm, gentle but firm enough to stop her." Mom, wait. I don't think bringing him back here is such a hot idea."

She turned around to be able to look at his eyes. Despite the fact that Seth seemed to let everything that he thought leave his mouth unfiltered, she knew for a fact that this wasn't true. His facial expressions were sometimes crucial to understanding what he thought or wanted. Right now, he looked worried. Worried about Ryan.

"I get what you're saying about not leaving him alone, but really, bringing him back here doesn't seem like the best option. Maybe we need a plan C. I mean, in case you haven't realized it yet, Ryan ran out of here as if Mrs. Cooper had threatened to hug him, and maybe there's a reason for that. We kind of teamed up against him, so since that didn't work, it might be better to try a one-on-one approach."

Her son had a point. If Ryan felt like he was backed into a corner, attacked from all sides, he would probably lash out again. She had.

"You're right. Who should go to him first?" Again she turned to her husband. Sandy seemed to be fighting some kind of inner battle, and for a second the fact that their connection had suffered so much that she did not instinctively know what it was unsettled her, but then she forced her thoughts to refocus on the matter at hand. "Sandy? What do you think?"

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Sandy turned to his wife, trying to shake of the thoughts that he had been lost in. He was torn between wanting to help Ryan himself, wanting to make the boy understand that there was nothing he couldn't tell him and no bad reaction to be afraid of, and asking himself if he would really be the best choice.

Two years, even one year ago, he would not have hesitated to say yes. He had been the one to bring Ryan here, he had recognized his potential and the fact that he was just a good kid in a bad situation. He had seen a piece of himself in the boy. And Ryan had repaid him for his trust in him by returning that trust, by looking up to him as a figure of authority. Sandy had always felt as if they understood each other in a way that no one else could, they had a common ground that was based in their past a stable enough to be the foundation of a real kinship.

But this summer, things had changed. He might be able to imagine what Ryan had been through, but he didn't know, didn't really understand. And due to that lack of understanding, he hadn't known what to do, how to help the kid. Not doing anything had been a horrible mistake, he saw that now, but he couldn't change the past. The question was if he was capable of doing better now.

He looked at his wife. "I think you should go. It seems as if right now, you can read him much better than I can. If you hadn't called him on trying to provoke me, I would have fallen for it."

She shook her head. "Sandy, I may have understood him better right then, but he needs to talk about Trey. I wasn't even here this summer, I don't think I am qualified for that. You were with him all summer, you discussed it and even if his guilt for his brother's deeds didn't come up, you certainly have a much better insight into what he felt- feels about everything that happened."

He bowed his head to the ground, not wanting to see her face when she heard what he had to admit. "We didn't talk about it."

"What? What do you mean you didn't talk about it, it must have been the only important topic all summer." She sounded befuddled. He couldn't blame her, though he still tried to explain.

"Directly after it happened, he was in shock. We had to deal with the police, he was worried about Marissa, I had to give Julie and Jimmy legal advice, Trey was in the hospital- there was too much going on, none of us would have been capable of having a serious discussion."

He looked up at her, trying to gauge her reaction. When she opened her mouth, he hurried on.

"After that, I tried, I addressed it a couple of times, but he didn't want to talk about it and I didn't want to force him to. Everything was already bad enough, I had to give him time to come to terms with what happened."

"And you didn't think that maybe he needed to talk about it, even if he didn't want to?" Her sharp voice was like a slap, he had to keep himself from visibly recoiling. He had no defence, they both knew it was true. She wasn't done yet.

"God Sandy, no wonder he's got it all messed up in his head. If no one told him it wasn't his fault, then of course he would believe that. He is Ryan, he takes responsibility for everything. How could you let that happen, how could you let it go that far? After everything we've been through last year, haven't you learned that ignoring problems doesn't solve them?"

"You're going to bring up last year? Damn Kirsten, you're in no position to throw stones, after…"

"Hey!" Their son's yell caused both of them to swivel around. The interruption gave him a second to think. Did he really just say that to Kirsten?

"Can you guys please stop tearing each others throats out? I get that you have issues that you need to deal with, I get that you apparently have a lot to talk about, but not now, ok? Right now, we need to help Ryan, ´cause that is what we are here for. The last thing he needs is for you two to start fighting, and just for the record, I really don't need to hear it, either. Can't you settle this, at least for now, and focus on the issue at hand? Go on yelling at each other later, if you have to."

His son's voice had slowly lowered in volume while he spoke, at the end reaching that unsettling, not at all Seth-like calm tone again. Now he was looking at both of them expectantly, as if daring them to object. He was ashamed for loosing his temper like that, in front of his son. He had always hated it when his parents had fought. The promise he had made to himself to never put Seth through that had been momentarily forgotten.

"You are right," his wife said "this isn't about us, or about dredging up each others mistakes. I will go talk to Ryan."

Her voice seemed calm, but there was a slight quiver that he had learned to detect years ago. Damn, the last thing he had wanted to do was hurt her. But apparently Ryan's technique of lashing out when feeling threatened, or in his case, attacked (no matter how justified), was something he practised himself.

"Kirsten", he called out to her when she was already halfway out the door, "I'm sorry."

For a moment, there was no visible reaction, but then he saw a slight softening of her eyes. They would really need to talk about this later, but at least now she knew he regretted his harsh words. He forced himself to relax as he reached for Ryan's plate. "Maybe you should bring him this, he didn't touch his bagel at all. Can't let a good bagel go to waste, right?"

The forced levity in his voice sounded strange to his own ears, especially when it was not followed by a sarcastic remark of his son. The boy had taken some steps backwards, visibly distancing himself from both of his parents, yet not turning his back on them, instead watching them closely.

"He needs to eat." Kirsten nodded, stepping back into the room and coming to take the plate out of his hand. He wasn't sure if the fact that she didn't brush his hand in the process was intentional on her part. It didn't matter right now, he forcibly reminded himself as she left the room. Right now, the only thing that mattered was Ryan.

The sound of the door closing behind Kirsten seemed unnaturally loud.

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Ryan's pacing came to an abrupt halt when Kirsten opened the pool house door. He knew he should have invested in getting some locks, he thought, but then reminded himself that his inability to lock himself in was the least of his problems right now. He raised an eyebrow questioningly when he saw the plate in her hand.

"You need to eat." she responded to his unspoken question. He debated leaving it at that, but decided that procrastination wouldn't really do him any good. Reaching for the food, he made a conscious effort to look her in the eyes; despite his instinctual need to hide his own behind hair that was no longer long enough to do so. "That's not why you're here though, right?"

A ghost of a smile flickered over her face. "No use trying to con you, huh? You're right, I'm here for something else, something I just know you are going to love." Everyone in this family loved sarcasm.

"More talking?" He didn't really need to ask, they both knew the answer. When she simply nodded, he managed not to sigh in exasperation. He sat down on his bed so he could look at her sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the room. There really was no use trying to escape the inevitable. "Shoot."

The attempt at humour fell flat. She just looked at him, as if trying to predict his most likely reaction to whatever she was going to say next.

"You said we don't understand your family, that we never could. And maybe you're right. But I want to, no I need to understand what you think about everything that happened this summer. There is no way around it." When she said the last part, she actually sounded apologetic.

"Didn't Sandy already tell you everything that happened? What's the point in repeating it all?" He had been prepared for a talk, but he hadn't thought it would mean reliving all those horrible events.

"The point is, Ryan, that Sandy told me his version of what happened. But if I want to understand what you're going through, what you're feeling and thinking about everything, then I have to know how you experienced it. After all, you were actually there. Sandy wasn't."

She still sounded like someone trying to calm down a scared animal, or maybe a panicking child. It actually worked, if only a little. Maybe if he did what she asked, they would all leave him alone afterwards. He wouldn't get his hopes up, but it was a distinct possibility. The problem was that he had no idea where to start.

Tbc…

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