Author's Note: Unfortunately this is the last part I have finished right now... so I'm hoping to obtain a lot of free time tomorrow night to get through at least the 9th part. (I'm halfway through the 8th currently). After that it's just a matter of wrapping things up nicely! (About as nice as this story can get anyway)...
But again... this is assuming there are no unexpected delays and I am able to finish the story on time. I DO actually have a lit paper due tomorrow that I haven't started yet... naughty me... so again, we shall see, hm?
::Crosses fingers::
Title: The Vanished
Author: Drink Sparky Cola
Rating: PG-15 due to language and violence
Genre: Drama/Angst
Timeline: Reminder Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.
Summary: After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?
Part Seven
Before he met Sandy a year ago, Ryan and his brother would go out every weekend, drink, and occasionally steal. Trey did most of the stealing, granted, but Ryan felt he was starting to get a knack for it before he quit, something which he constantly regretted, finding himself sneaking beer out the back door of their neighborhood's convenience store or eying a car left on a street, scrutinizing the ways he might be able to get inside to steal it without being noticed.
At the same time that he did all of this, he began to hate himself more and more.
When Sandy took him away from all that, there was a considerable adjustment period. It took awhile for him to feel comfortable in Newport, and even after all that time, he still never felt like he truly belonged, but at least he could forget every once in a while, that he used to despise himself and his loved ones so much. When he was around Sandy and Kirsten and Seth and Marissa, he had people who loved him in spite of his past discrepancies.
... Which is why he still couldn't figure out what made him sabotage it all.
Sure he knew he'd never belong, but there was no explanation for why he would bring all those who loved him down with him. Ryan had a fundamental problem with hurting the ones he loved, which he was starting to suspect had something to do with the way his loved ones used to hurt him when he still lived in Chino.
Everything goes full circle... Ryan thought bitterly, as he watched the movements of his captors as they paced around the little store, like caged tigers ready to pounce. And while he watched them he slowly began to realize that if not for Sandy, he would probably be one of those caged tigers today, barely scraping by, doing what he must to survive, even if that meant hurting other people.
In his heart of hearts, Ryan was sure he would never sink so low as to arming himself, robbing a store, and taking hostages, but the figurative suggestion was there nonetheless. Ryan would have been a criminal if he hadn't left his former life for the one in Newport.
... But was that life of a criminal really what I deserve after all? Ryan wondered. Maybe I didn't deserve such a humongous change, but everyone deserves second chances... even Jace and the others...
Unfortunately Ryan never had a chance to finish the thought, because at that moment, the phone rang once more. Jace picked it up on the third ring, answering, "How may I help you? ... Oh, they're here now? With the money? ... That's excellent. I suppose, since you did what I asked so quickly, that I'll allow you to send in a paramedic. But JUST one paramedic, and no tricks, or I'll have my partners take down whoever gets in the way – the child, the Cohen boys, the lovely young lady, your choice." Jace winked cruelly at Ryan, at which the latter sneered. "Alright, we're agreed then. Thanks for your cooperation officer Flynn." Jace hung up and looked at Ryan. "Well son, looks like your folks are here."
o-o-o-o
The scene outside the liquor store when Sandy and Kirsten arrived was surprisingly calm. A group of about 40 or 50 bystanders stood by watching idly, waiting to see whether a shootout would erupt, almost as if they were anticipating the violence. Teenagers milled about, trying to peek inside to steal a glance at the activities, and harried mothers, 3 or 4 small children milling about, hanging on them, watched with stony faces.
What right have they? How can they stand by and watch as if they weren't mothers themselves? As if they couldn't have loved ones in that store, Kirsten thought bitterly, hating every one of them, as if that would alleviate her pain and worry.
On the ride here all had been silent aside from Kirsten's call to her father. Caleb Nichols, upon being brought up to speed on the situation, seemed initially to think that an alternative was possible.
"The police have got to be doing something, right? It's just a liquor store and a couple of inept gunmen. Why do they want you to pay anyway?—"
"DAD." Kirsten spoke the word so sharply and with such painful conviction that even Sandy, in the driver's seat next to her jumped. Caleb was silent. Kirsten went on, "They're holding Seth and Ryan hostage in that store. They've got my boys and they could kill them at any moment. I'm going to do whatever the hell they ask me to do and I expect you to do the same. Now could you please have the money forwarded?"
And to the Cohen's immense surprise, there was an immediate reply, "Yes Kirsten. I'm wiring the money right now."
Kirsten breathed in steadily. "Thank you dad." The conversation ended there as Kirsten hung up the cell and leaned back in her chair, covering her face with her slender hands. Sandy reached over and pushed a few tangled locks of her blonde hair back from her face.
"It'll be alright, Kirsten."
They'd been greeted by Officer Flynn himself upon their arrival. The officer was in his 50s, with sandy brown hair that was already balding. Serious and commanding, yet with a gentle look about him, he brought them up to speed on the situation. "We're going to send in Sol Martinez, here. He's a paramedic; he's going to make sure the victims are taken care of." The uniformed Latino nodded to the Cohens silently. "We're sending him in wired so he can apprise us of the situation. We were going to try to send in an officer with the paramedic but the man we talked to said he wouldn't allow more than one, and we'd rather be sure that the hostages are safe and taken care of before we try anything risky."
"Risky?" Kirsten asked fearfully.
Flynn blanched momentarily. "Mrs. Cohen, we want to get those people out of there as fast as possible, but we're hoping to catch these men in the process so they never do something like this again. We will do our best not to let anything happen to your sons, I promise."
Kirsten looked unconvinced, but nodded, sniffling. Martinez and Flynn began to walk away, but Kirsten reached forward, grabbing the paramedic's arm. "Please, if you see my boys, tell them we're out here and that we love them both."
Martinez nodded slowly. "I'll make sure of it, Mrs. Cohen."
Kirsten watched sadly as he walked away to retrieve his gear. She must have looked lost, because at that moment Sandy enveloped her in his embrace, holding her close to him. "It's OK, Kirsten. Caleb's sending the money – it should be here in less than an hour. I'm sure they're both fine. If anything happens to either of them – God forbid – the boys'll take care of each other."
o-o-o-o
Jace and Rob were on their highest guard when letting the paramedic enter the building. The man was around 30 years of age, young and determined looking. When he arrived his vision immediately floated to the victim closest to the door, which happened to be Hank, then over to Seth, and Ryan could swear he paled considerably. He raised his arms as Rob searched him for weapons, finding none.
Jace closed the medical kit upon inspection and got into the paramedic's face. "Him first, doc, then the kid." The medic's eyes drifted then to the cashier behind the counter.
"Is he dead?"
Jace studied him, "Yes."
The medic nodded quietly, then picked up his bag and set it down by Hank, taking Brennan's place and immediately setting to work. Ryan wasn't watching the medic, however, as at that time Brennan came over and sat by him.
"How is he?" Brennan asked, concern evident in his eyes.
Ryan couldn't figure out why anyone else in the store should care about what happened to him and Seth. They didn't know the two, and certainly didn't have any obligations to help them. Nonetheless Ryan squeezed Seth's hand, as he had been doing periodically for the last few hours to reassure the latter that he was still there and told Brennan, "He's hanging in there. Don't know for how much longer."
"It was very brave of you to stand up for your brother like that, Ryan." Brennan commended.
Ryan shrugged. "It was very brave of you to stand up for Cathie. You don't even know her."
This time Brennan shrugged. "We're all in this together, I figure we gotta watch out for each other. She just looked scared... Anyway, the real help's here now, and he'll take care of your brother."
"He's not," Ryan began. "My brother, that is."
"What?" Brennan whispered, confused.
"Seth, he's not my brother."
"Coulda fooled me."
"I lived with his family for awhile in Newport. I'm from here originally."
Brennan blinked. "Why'd you come back?"
Ryan thought about this for a minute. "I screwed up."
"Well I hate to tell you this," Brennan chuckled, "But you screwed up in coming back."
The paramedic stood up, replacing his medical tape in his bag. "Well, believe it or not, there's nothing more I can do for him here. Your friend's lost a lot of blood and I don't think the bullet hit anything major, but there's no possible way I can tell that without proper medical equipment. I gave him some morphine for the pain, but that's only a temporary solution."
"It's good enough, doc. We'll take care of our own after we get outta here. Just do your damn job over there."
Without another word, the medic took this permissive leave to join Ryan and Brennan by the unconscious Seth. He kneeled down and Brennan moved out of the way, but Ryan stayed put, glued to his friend's side. As the medic took Seth's wrist in his hand and felt it carefully his eyes met with Ryan's. "My name's Sol Martinez. I take it you're... Ryan? Or Seth?"
Shocked by the recognition, Ryan answered, "Ryan. Is my brother gonna be OK?"
"I don't know yet, but I told your parents that I'd take care of both of you, so I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure that happens." Martinez lifted up the makeshift towels Ryan had used to staunch the blood. Some of the blood around the wound had dried, but it had more or less stopped flowing freely. It was really sickening to look at, and Ryan almost closed his eyes, but averted them instead. Be strong, for Seth... He counseled himself.
Speaking of, the other teen began to awaken at the sensation of Martinez's exam. The three men in the vicinity watched as Seth opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling and three faces, two of which were unfamiliar. "What... Is it Chrismukkah already?" He asked.
Ryan refrained from laughing out loud, so grateful to see Seth awake. "Glad you've still got your charming sense of humor." Ryan said, tousling Seth's messy hair.
"What's going on?" Seth asked, wincing as Martinez felt around the wound. "Who's trying to dissect me?"
"His name's Martinez, Seth. He's a paramedic. He's helping you."
"He's so minty..." Seth said idly, his eyes fluttering. "Thank you, Ryan," Seth added faintly.
Ryan blinked. "For what?"
"For this." Seth squeezed Ryan's hand that was still clutched in his own, almost imperceptibly but still noticeably.
Ryan swallowed, "You shouldn't have come here, Seth. This is all my fault."
"... You're ridiculous. You... belong in Newport. You're just... adjusting." The other teen answered slowly.
Ryan laughed wryly, handing Martinez a towel that he'd asked for. "Still adjusting? After a whole year?—" And then suddenly it hit Ryan. Even at the time he wasn't sure that the revelation was perceived by anyone else, but it struck him nonetheless.
A whole year.
He'd been living with the Cohens exactly one year. The night they opened the Lighthouse was the night Sandy whisked Ryan away from Chino and brought him into his own house, into his own home.
It was a common misconception, Ryan felt, that people thought that a house and home were one and the same. Ryan had always had a house to live in, but until he was introduced to the Cohens, he'd never known the true meaning of family, never felt like he belonged.
Is that why I kept screwing up?, Ryan thought. Is that why I ran away? Am I really that restless that I feel the need to constantly uproot myself every few months just to feel normal?
"Dad never got a chance to tell you..." Seth interrupted his thoughts in his soft voice, so unusually hushed for Ryan's comfort. "At the opening of the Lighthouse, he and my mom... were gonna announce they were adopting you... You really are my brother now." Seth managed a small grin, but Ryan didn't know what to say. He stared at Seth until the other teen was disrupted by a violent coughing fit.
"Seth?" Ryan asked, concern lacing his voice.
Seth started taking in deep breaths, chest rising into the air. "Getting a little hard... hard to breathe..." He gasped quietly.
Ryan looked worriedly at the medic. "What's happening?"
Martinez looked concerned for a moment, then asked Ryan to help roll Seth on his side. "There's no exit wound for the bullet." Martinez said upon examination. "The bullet's still inside of him. We've got to get it out before it causes further infection." Ryan watched as the older man reached for the morphine bottle and injected a syringe of it into Seth's arm below the shoulder. Ryan held the other's hand even more tightly as he shuddered then slipped back into unconsciousness.
Martinez closed his bag and turned around to face Jace. "That's it. This can't go on any longer. I know you're worried about the consequences, but you've got to let your injured go or they're not going to make it through the afternoon." He said sternly.
Jace laughed bitterly. "Look at my situation, you idiot. I've already killed one person – why the Hell should I care if another one dies?"
"Because you can save the life of an innocent kid, if you'll just let me take him!"
"Let him go, Jace." Ryan said, relinquishing Seth from his grip and standing next to Jace. "You're going to let Seth go, and you're going to let the other hostages go too, because you don't need any of them... if you've got me."
"What?" Rob stepped up this time. "What makes you think we'd do that?"
"Because he's right." Jace answered, surprising his partner. "We only need one of the kids. None of these other hostages are any use to us."
"But they can all identify us!" This time it was Hank that spoke up, now awake and leaning against the counter, looking disgruntled but alert for the first time since entering the store. He held a hand to his side where he'd been shot. "They know our names, our faces!"
Jace silenced the other man. "We're not killing everyone in this room, Hank." He said, enunciating his point with a glare. "Besides, if we do, not one of us will ever get out of this store alive."
Hank swore. "So we're letting them all go except for the kid?"
"No, I'll stay too." Brennan spoke up.
Ryan turned around to face him. "No, you're going with them. You've done your part, Brennan. Don't waste your life like this – I'm staying and no one else."
"Fine." Jace answered, abating any further argument. "I'm calling the cops. As soon as the money arrives, the rest of you can go, but—" He emitted a glare toward Ryan. "You, son, had better not be pulling anything on us."
