A/N.: Thanks to ParisAmy who seems to make my story so much better and actually readable and understandable =)
7.
"Dad!" I hear my eldest son scream when I enter the door into the house. I'm exhausted. Caleb once a week is already awful, thus I don't need to describe what Caleb twice a week means.
"Dad!" My son screams again. His voice is in panic. I let my coat drop and run towards the direction the voice comes from – the kitchen.
"Seth, what's…" I don't need to ask more. The kitchen looks like a battle field. A huge puddle of water and milk faces me; Sophie's bottle on the floor, the pot turned over. My glance wanders into direction to my eldest son. He kneels next to Ryan, who's slumped down against the kitchen counter, his face grimaced with pain.
"Oh god, what happened?" I asked them both.
"I…dunno, when I came down stairs, Ryan…sat here…I really don't know, you must believe me. If I'd known…" He's close to burst into tears.
"Seth, calm down. It's okay. Nothing is your fault." I put an assuring hand onto his shoulder.
"Sandy, what happened?" My wife asks when she enters the kitchen. I see concern in her eyes. I only shake my head and then go back to my youngest.
"Ryan?" I ask him.
"mmm" I'm glad to hear that he's at least in somehow responsive.
"Shit…Ryan…tell me that you're okay…please Ryan…I swear…I…I didn't mean.…what I said," My son says. I have no clue to what he's talking about.
"Come here sweetie, we're there now. Everything's going to be okay." My wife says and pulls Seth away from Ryan and takes him into her arms.
"Ryan, can you tell me what happened?" I ask him.
"Slipped…just…slipped." He says. I see that he's exhausted. I have no idea how long he's been sitting there.
"Can you get up?" I ask him. I see how he tries. He moves carefully, careful not to put strain onto his right leg and I fear he might have hurt it again.
"Is it your knee?" I ask him. I want to support him and put an arm around his waist, but he pulls it away. In the first moment I'm shocked by this reaction. In the second one I blame his pain and the whole situation for that. In the third I fear he might have taken steps back again, because of some kind of set back.
"I just want to help you, okay." I tell him. Maybe he just doesn't know what's happening.
"Why's your t-shirt wet?" I ask and put a hand onto his back. He winces and I take the hand off again.
"I…I guess…he…might have burnt it…with the water…"Seth stammers. Everything is a chaos.
"Okay, I'll go and get Ryan to the hospital." I say. I still want to help him, but he doesn't allow me. It hurts to see how he even has to struggle to remain onto his feet.
"You'd better…take Sophie…there…I'm…sorry, but…I had her…in my arms…when I slipped…I don't know…whether she's injured." My son manages to say through gritted teeth.
"What!" My wife calls out. There's pure naked panic. She immediately picks up our little daughter out of the crib and examines her for obvious injuries. I can't see anything.
"Sorry." Ryan whispers. I look at him and guilt is written all over his face. I take a deep breath. I need to maintain composure. Oh god. You go out for once and when you come back the whole house is in chaos.
We're on our way to the ER. My wife is fully concentrated on our daughter, rocking her, soothing her.
"It's okay, honey." She sooths her, although Sophie is completely quiet and sucks satisfied on her dummy. Seth is sitting next to Ryan. He's pale and still apologizes to Ryan. I don't know what it is, but I'll ask him later. And Ryan? I have no idea what his behaviour is supposed to mean. Maybe only the shock and pain. Maybe he's concerned about Sophie and feels guilty.
"Really Ryan, you need to believe me…"
"Seth shut up!" Ryan barks. My wife's head snaps back. I can see the fury in her eyes.
"Stop it, both of you. You both were supposed to watch Sophie and I…I…just don't know what I'd do, if something had happened to her. Did you understand me?" She yells at the boys. I can understand her fear. She had wanted a second child – her own child – so badly that she was anxious that someone could take it away from her. On the other hand, I doubt something seriously happened to Sophie, as she was sound asleep in her mother's arms. I look into the rear mirror again. Ryan's head leaning against the window with his face drawn indifferent, and Seth shooting guilty glances at him. I wonder what's behind all this. Did the boys have a fight? But if so, what had it to do with this accident?
"But…Mum…it had been an accident!" Seth calls out. There was definitely something wrong. He never looks like that.
"I don't want to hear any excuses. There are no excuses for…hurting an innocent and defenceless child. I thought I could rely on you and you were responsible, but as I now see I'd been wrong. I'm really, really disappointed – with both of you and…" I put a calming hand onto my wife's leg to stop her. The boys already look flattened.
We reach the hospital. My wife runs into the ER with our Soph. Seth wants to help Ryan, but he doesn't let him. I try my luck, but he's rejecting me as well. Only now I realize that we maybe should have paid attention to his injury and his pain as well, instead of folding him flat in first place. There would have been enough time later. But I can't change what has happened. Ryan slowly limps to the entrance. He's so unsteady on his legs that it seems he might collapse any second, but every time I try to support him he rejects me. Pain is written all over his face, but he doesn't complain – he never would. We enter the ER and I see my wife is already on her way to get Soph checked up by a doctor. I run up to her.
"I wait with the boys, if something happens, let me know." I tell her and kiss her.
"Did you forget that already something has happened?" She's still hysteric. This doesn't suit her. She's never hysteric, never had been and I doubt she ever will.
"I know, but…just…you know." I say. I know every sentence; every word would be wrong and worth it picking up a fight, which I want to avoid.
"Yeah, do what you want…as everybody in this family seems to do." She says and then follows the doctor. Somehow I think this was a little bit unfair. I go back to the boys. Ryan is slumped down in one of the chairs in the waiting room. Well, what does slump down mean? He's shifting around, uncomfortably. I only hope there's nothing serious.
"Are you okay kid?" I ask him. I know this is a stupid question, as he's obviously not okay. But I have to say something. Let him know that there's someone there for him. Shit. This has been too much chaos tonight. Maybe he's mad at us, because we haven't paid attention to him…at least not…the… He's getting paler and paler with every passing minute.
"Ryan, can you at least talk to me and tell me that you listened to me." I ask him. I'm quite upset by his behaviour. It wasn't my fault that he slipped and got hurt.
"mmm" He only answers. At least something. It could be worse.
"Ryan Atwood?" A doctor calls out. I'm glad that eventually someone had found the time to see him, as I drag myself out of my thoughts. I see how he struggles to get up. I walk over to him, supporting him. I feel how the weight on my shoulders gets heavier and heavier.
"Ryan you should…" I have trouble to hold the boy, who is collapsing in front of my eyes. Shit! Why haven't I seen that he's this badly injured? I carefully lower him onto the ground.
"Dad!" My son calls out in panic. I react in a reflex.
"Ryan?" I ask him, but he doesn't answer. I kneel beside him, realizing that he's lying on his back. That isn't good, if your skin is burnt or? I have no clue. I watch people lifting him onto a gurney and then rushing away from me. I'm not allowed to follow them. I remain standing in the middle of the hallway of the hospital. When I realize how long I've been standing there - staring into this one direction - I go to my son and sit down. I rub my face with me hands.
"Do you want to tell me what had happened this evening?" I ask my son. He's pale too and trembling.
"I…dunno…when…when I…came down stairs…Ryan was sitting on the floor and the kitchen was a mess." He answers. I have trouble to believe him. He should have heard at least Ryan's swearing and I assume he had sworn a lot.
"And how does it come that it had been Ryan being in the kitchen with Sophie's milk and not you? I thought your Mom had told you to take care of Sophie." I ask him on. He doesn't look at me. Nice: another one in the family who prefers staring to the floor instead of looking at me.
"Fuck Dad, I know I screwed up this time!" He yells at me and runs out. I want to follow him, but someone needs to wait for Ryan. But Seth is my son too and I need to find out what has been going on. I run after him.
"Seth, wait!" I call after him. I catch with him and stop him. "Seth I only want to know what happened. Nothing else. You know me. I do need to know what caused my whole family being in panic and being hurt, so please don't give me months of sleepless nights." I tell him. He sits down on the kerb and I sit down next to him.
"I…we…we had a fight and…I was pissed and then Sophie started crying and…I'd been too pissed and…Ryan went to her and then…I dunno." I sigh.
"You don't want to tell me what you two had been fighting about?" I ask him. He shakes his head. I only nod.
"You know, if you need to get rid of something, anything you can always come to me." I tell him. He nods. I pad his shoulder.
"Okay, I have to go back and see how your sister and your brother are doing." I say and get up. When I'm back, my wife's already sitting in the waiting area with Sophie in her arms – safe and sound.
"Hey, everything alright with our little sweetheart?" I ask her. I see the relief in her face, but I want to give her the opportunity to say it to me in words.
"Yes, nothing. Not even a bruise. She has had luck. I don't want to imagine what had happened if Ryan had fallen onto her or…"
"Kirsten, this hasn't happened and we both can be sure that Ryan would have rather broken his neck than let something happen to Sophie." I assure her.
"Yes, but don't think I'll forgive the boys for this." She declares. I sigh.
"Kirsten it had been an accident, nobody had acted wilfully. And believe me, Seth feels guilty enough and…how Ryan feels remains to be seen. So, let's just worry about his health first and later we can still…punish their actions. Okay?"
"How's Ryan doing?" She asks me. I could tell her that he had collapsed in the hallway, but I don't do so. She has had enough shock moments this night.
"I don't know." Thus we remain silent and waiting. My eldest son comes back to us. It takes hours.
"Sandy…I…know…I probably should stay, but Sophie needs her sleep." She says. I can understand her.
"It's okay. Seth, you should go home too." I hand him the car keys. He only nods.
"Thanks, bye and call me when you know something." She kisses me and then I'm alone. I have no idea what this night is supposed to mean. I don't know whether I have done everything right or wrong, whether my wife did, nor one of the boys. This night only demonstrates how fragile our family still is.
"Mr. Cohen?" A man comes towards me – a doctor. Finally news about the last member of my family.
"Yes." I get up. "How's my son?" I ask him.
"Well…not good…but he's neither in a critical state." Relief spreads through my body.
"But…he's serverly injured and…"
"What?" I ask. First he tells me that my son isn't in a critical state and now this.
"Starting with his back we're faced with burns first to second degree. Nothing critical, but a lot of pain and discomfort. The second injury is his knee. The x-rays don't look good. The CT scans neither. We contacted…uh…Dr. Conrad the doctor who had been in charge of your son's knee a few months ago. We've sent him the pictures and now we have to wait what he says. But in my opinion this injury will require surgery, but we'll have to wait for Dr. Conrad's opinion." The doctor says. Oh. No. Not again. I don't think the boy can handle another surgery on his knee. The first one had been a fight already.
"Okay, thanks…can I see him?" I ask. I have to warp my head around this news. I don't even want to think about my wife's reaction on this. She's already stressed out. This probably will exceed her limit. On the other hand it had been an awful accident.
"Yes, but he's pretty much out of it, as we have administered strong pain medications to him." The doctor says and then leads me to the room my son lies in.
"Thanks." I say once again and then silently enter the room. The boy is lying on his side, only his legs covered with a blanket. His whole upper body is wrapped in bandages and I fear he might not be able to breathe. When I see the IV line on the back of his hand, I realize how serious his condition must be. I take a deep breath. At least I should remain calm.
"Hey kid." I say. I go over to him and ruffle through his hair. He's really pretty much out of it.
"Everything's going to be okay." I tell him. Well I'm not sure. I'm not sure how much he can bear. I don't know how much my wife can bear. I don't know how much my eldest son can bear. My eldest son. He's already been jealous because we hadn't had enough time for him. This here won't help to sort these issues out. And hell I don't know whether I can bear any more. I want to stroke over his cheek, but he turns is head away.
"Hey, what's that? I thought we were over this." I say.
"Just…leave." He says in a whispering. I feel like I've been hit by truck. What was that? This doesn't mean that…or? It's the medication, right?
"Are you okay kid?" I ask him. I want to make sure that he didn't mean what he had said; that he doesn't know what's happening; that he's awfully out of it, not knowing what he's saying.
"Just…leave." He whispers once again. Okay, he seems to know what he's saying.
"Are you sure that this is what you want?" I ask him once again. Maybe he wants to tell me something else, but just can't right now.
"Yes." He says. He doesn't look at me. I look at him. His face is blank and indifferent.
"Ryan, I don't think I like this…and…I don't think I like that facial expression of yours." I say. I don't get a response. I want to impose my presence to him, but he isn't aware of me. Well, he pretty much ignores me. I sigh. I won't get through to him today and I'm still convinced that this is all linked to the medication he's on.
When I'm home I meet my wife drinking tea in the kitchen.
"Hey honey." I greet her and give her a kiss. Her face is plastered with exhaustion. "How's our little daughter?" I ask her. I know she won't forgive me if I hadn't asked this before starting with the quite bad news.
"Safe and sound. She's sleeping. I've only been waiting for you. What took you so long and…where's Ryan?" She asks. Sometimes I only want to scream at her. She'd seen that Ryan had been in a bad condition when we had brought him in. She had seen that he'd been in a lot of pain. Why does she ask this question?
"Still in hospital and as it seems he'll have to stay there for a while." I only answer calmly, trying to hide my anger about her reaction.
"What?" She's upset. But why? Shouldn't she be more concerned? I mean at least he's her son too. And yes I'm afraid of her reaction. She'd completely forgotten about him in this situation and I don't know whether this is a normal reaction, because Soph is our little baby; or whether she realised in such situations who her own child is and who's not. I don't want imply she's doing it wilfully, but I'm afraid of it.
"I already booked our trip to Föhr." This is the last straw. I can't understand how she can think about holidays right now, while one of our sons is in hospital.
"Damn it Kirsten! How can you think about this right now? Ryan's seriously injured again. His back is completely burnt - even second degree and…his knee might require surgery again. Don't you think this is enough reason to start to worry?" I ask her. I've raised my voice.
"What? Don't tell me…Sandy, I can't do this again…it's…"
"Stop it! We have to. We agreed to be his parents and there's no way out just because we've been blessed with a second child of our own." I just have my doubts that it's my wife I'm talking to right now. I don't want to believe that she believes what she's telling me right now.
"And we're fighting again because of him!" She puts her mug onto the kitchen counter with a slam.
"What do you want to tell me through this?" I ask her.
"That…that…I dunno. I'm overtaxed with all of this. I just want that this stops!" She screams at me.
"But you can't stop being a parent. This is our job and we have chosen it! You can't switch on being a parent when it's nice to be one, and switch it off when's getting complicated!" I scream back. It feels as if we're back where we started.
"And what have been the last six months?"
"Kirsten, when will you stop with that? I know the last six months had been a tough fight, but we had known from the very beginning that it won't be easy. We should stop complain about our decision, or don't you think the boy notices that something's bothering us regarding this topic?" I throw at her. I can't stand this anymore.
"But…"
"Nothing but and I would appreciate it, if you could hide your…fury about this towards the boy. I don't want him noticing any of it. It's not his fault."
