A/N.: Thanks to my Beta ParisAmy, who's doing a really great job and thanks a lot for reading this!
19.Realisation- it hurts us when it discovers the unwelcome truth
R.
I enter the lecture theatre. I look for a seat in the back rows. I spot a seat, but a sudden wave of dizziness hits me and I have to stay still for it to get over. No, that's definitely not good. After a few seconds my vision clears again and the dumb feeling in my head is gone as well. The seat is taken by now. As I look around further I see a hand waving at me. I turn around, because I doubt this could be directed to me, but there's nobody behind me. I shrug and take a few steps. Seth.
"Dude, what you're doing here?" I ask him, when I settle down next to him. This wasn't one of his lectures at all.
S.
"Yes, well we're running low in Seth/Ryan time, so I thought I'd visit you in one of your lectures. You can't run away from me man. These few years must have been enough." I tell him. Actually we really barely see each other, but we're both awfully caught up in our studies. It's not like it had been before he left. Something got lost between us. Our relationship isn't as intense and intimate as it had been before. This feels wrong. After all we went through, our relationship is supposed to be even more intense. Is it my mistake or is it Ryan who keeps the grudge? I'm not sure. Definitely Ryan is more distanced towards me. Right, he never had been the guy who was talking about his intimate personal feelings and things, but our conversations seem to remain on the upper surface. I try to approach more deep topics, like what had happened during the time he was gone. I try sorting things out, but he refuses this topic. It's not as much fun hanging out with him as it had been. We're not laughing about the same jokes anymore. I can't annoy him with my babbling and bobbing. I can't annoy him with my whining and my antipathy towards physical labour. It's like he's dead. Shit. What? No, of course not dead. There's no reason for him that he should be dead. I can't I mean…he just doesn't seem to react as he used to.
R.
"Okay, Seth, but you know that you can't just chat through the lecture. This is just not working." I let him know. He wants things to go back to normal between us – as it had been before I left. I want it too, but I can't, not right now. There are too many lies lying between us, and I'm responsible for it. I had my reasons for not letting him know, but he'll never understand. Things have changed. I have changed. I can't be like I've been anymore. I would give everything to get back what had been between Seth and me, but this is impossible. It's awful to see how he clings to the past – how he clings to the past before the drinking and beating. I wished I could do so: just push on the rewind button and go on from when things still were alright. I just can't. It's hard to keep up a relationship with Kirsten, because she had hurt me with her behaviour. But it's me who determines the closeness or looseness of the relationship. In Seth's case it was me who has hurt him, and as much as I can forgive Kirsten for everything that happened, I can't forgive myself for pissing off without a previous word to Seth and then lying to him.
S.
"That's true, but you also can't run away from me after the lecture. See, I've planned it. After the lecture we'll go home and celebrate the beginning of the weekend. TGIF." I let him know. If he's reluctant to pick up our friendship from new, I'll force him to do so. He can't force me to accept the current situation between us. He can be mad at the 'rents, because they really fucked up and it took long for me to forgive my Mom and Dad, and they're my real parents and neither Mom nor Dad aimed any of their frustration at me, than this must be even harder for Ryan to forgive. But I didn't harm him. I only forced him to stay and I had all right to. He was – is – my brother and to be honest: he was in much better shape when he was still with us. I relied on him, but this is the expression of a deep relationship of trust, right? If someone relies on you, he shows you that he trusts you. I trusted Ryan and then he left and he lied to me. Was I wrong to trust him? Well, I doubt that, because he never lied to hurt me. He's so fucking busy with protecting everyone that he can't even protect himself and that's what I hate about him.
"That's true. But what about Summer? Aren't you supposed to celebrate your weekend with your girlfriend?"
R.
"Nah, she's okay with that. She'll use the time off to do some serious shopping." I only nod. The professor has entered the lecture theatre and starts his lecture. I have trouble following it. My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton and it's an irritating feeling. I have a dull pressure in my ears and I can hear my blood circulating. I try to concentrate on my notes but without pre-warning my arm gets numb for a second and I drop the pen. Shit. I bend down to pick it up again. Great. It's somewhere between all the bags. I have to bend down deeper and the blood rushes into me head and the dull feeling increases when I get up again. Dark spots dance in front of my vision.
"Mr. Atwood, after you've been so busy handling things under the bench, would you like to come here and give us an example of how to solve this problem?" Shit. He doesn't like me. I knew it.
I get up and my body breaks out in perspiration. I slowly make my way downstairs. The professor hands me the chalk. Am I glad that the problem is not a difficult one otherwise I would end up as the dumb ass from the back row. When I'm finished I hand him back the chalk "Not as inattentive as I thought." He comments. I want to go back to my seat
"And Mr. Atwood, I don't know whether your parents forgot to teach you the principles of good behaviour, but here people tend to take off their hats when they enter a room." I sigh. I'm not really keen on being identified as the guy with cancer on first sight. Well, I won't be able to escape this humiliation. My pride isn't worth it pissing off a professor who gets to determine my further academic career. I take off my cap. I know I should say something, but the battle that would follow? I just couldn't fight it too. I'm already struggling with a lot of other things. I don't have the energy for any unnecessary blow off.
"Sir, can I now go back to my seat?" I ask. I'm not fond of sitting for just a second and being commanded back again immediately.
"For now, you can."
S.
My jaw drops when the professor bosses Ryan around as if he was some kind of dog. Worse of all: where's the Ryan who would have given this man the hell of hells? Why doesn't he defend himself against these attacks? This is not right.
"You okay man?" I ask him when he sits down next to me again. I can see that he's exhausted. This is not right.
"Sure." Of course. Ryan Atwood admitting that he doesn't feel well would mean a nearly dying Ryan Atwo…I should think before I think, this is not polite.
"Does this happen a lot?"
"Only Fridays." That's a great answer.
"Mr. Atwood, still not learnt where to pay attention to? What about solving this problem for us too, after you went through the first one masterly?" I'm irritated. Doesn't the man in front of the board see that Ryan is not well and not in any shape to run up and down the stairs again and again?
"Shit, don't you see that he's not well?" I scream out when I watch Ryan struggling to get up and gaining his composure.
"Seth, it's okay." He responds quietly.
"I don't award pity rewards." The professor answers and I'm not sure whether I wanted to listen to this sentence.
"Yeah, but there's also no reason for bullying." I shout back.
"Seth! It's okay." Ryan suddenly snaps at me.
"Mr. Atwood we don't have the whole day." His Professor reproaches him. I witness the battle Ryan is fighting for following the instructions. He looks at me, his eyes nearly pleading, but I don't know what for.
I watch Ryan struggling with gaining his balance. This doesn't look good at all. I watch his legs trembling. Not trembling, but buckling. Ryan turns his head to me.
"S…" Is all he gets out. I realise too late that he's about to fall. I jump out of my seat and try to reach him, but his knees gave in before I can get hold of his arm. I stretch out an arm to grab hold of him, but my finger tips only slightly brush his upper arm, before he collapses on the stairs.
"Ryan!" I call out when I see his limp body falling down the stairs. I'm like paralyzed during the time of his falling. I can't believe that this is happening. The sharp scream of a female voice drags me out of my trance and I rush downstairs to where Ryan's lying.
"Ryan?" Unconscious. Shit. His professor has horror written all over his face.
"Stop gawking but call for help!" I scream into his face. I turn back to Ryan's unconscious limp body. His chest is rising and falling. That's good. But there's blood. The source is an awful wound on his head. Shit. He's not supposed to bleed, right? Because bleedings don't stop easily when you have leukaemia, right? Oh, shit. When I turn around and the dumb ass of professor hasn't reacted yet, I pull out my cell phone and dial 911, not taking my eyes off Ryan.
R.
A stinging smell creeps into my nose, causing nausea. Well, the headache might be a reason for it too. Oh shit. Whom must I have pissed off this time? My body hurts like a bitch.
"Ryan?" I hear an anxious female voice. I feel something grabbing my hand. Instinctively I pull it away.
K.
"Sweetie, it's me. C'mon open your eyes." I watch Ryan coming back to the land of the living. When I received the call from Seth it felt as if the world around me stopped spinning.
"Ryan, look at me, please." I beg him. I need to make sure that he's okay, although this is impossible in his current situation. Of course he's not okay. He wouldn't be here if he was.
His eyes slowly open and I wave of relief goes through my body.
"Hey there, you gave me quite a scare." I let him know. I make a second attempt to take his hand. This time he doesn't pull it away. It's cold and trembling.
"How are you feeling?"
R.
"Not that great. Sore." I answer. I'm not in the mood for pretending to feel well. I don't even want to seem to be well, because then people treat you like you're well and today was the best proof that this is not really working: not being well, but being treated as if I am. Actually it had never worked, not with my Mom, not when the Cohen's started to screw up and not now. The difference is that I was able to cover up everything with my condition, but this one doesn't allow me to.
"That's to be expected after such a fall." The doctor says when he enters the room. It's the one who's in charge of my treatments.
"Keen on your inventory?" He asks me, and no I don't think that this joke it funny at all.
"Well, no answer means yes for me. You have a broken rib, several bruises all over your body and a laceration including concussion. Means: we'll keep you overnight for observation and put you on antibiotics, because your weakened immune system won't be able to fight any germs anymore. We'll interrupt the treatment for one or two weeks, giving you time to recover from the fall. Everything clear so far?" I only nod.
"Okay, I leave you alone now. But do me and especially yourself a favour and think about whether you're still in any condition for attending College every day. This was an alert sign from your body. You shouldn't ignore it." He says and then leaves. Great. Exactly what I need.
"Don't worry, we'll find a solution – for everything."
I don't response, because right now I have to realise that the life I'm used to is completely gone by now. I have to realise the seriousness of this. I have to realise that I might never be able to finish my studies. I have to realise that I have to depend on people who already let me down once.
"Kirsten, could you…I need some time to think." I ask her. I don't want her around right now. I want my peace and my thoughts for me alone. I don't want to share them.
K.
"Okay, but don't engage in too much brooding. You need to rest." I tell him. I know that he has to digest the doctor's warning and that I can't help him with that. I feel how my heart starts to ache at the thought of the devastated feeling that must have struck him. Without thinking I kiss his forehead and then leave the room.
"Can…you say 'thanks' to Seth for me?" He asks me when I reach for the doorknob.
"No problem."
"Thanks…for everything." He nearly whispers and this sentence makes my heart ache even more. He sounds so helpless, nearly like a frightened boy who has no clue of what is coming up to him.
"How's he?" Seth asks me as soon as I've left the room.
"Not good. A broken rib and a concussion. But I think the fact that his body is now really starting to show its weakness frightens him."
"Mom, that would frighten everyone. I mean he collapsed in the lecture hall in front of I don't know how many other students."
"By the way, he wants me to say thanks for helping him."
"As if I'd let him lie there alone." My son's innocence strikes me again.
"Your Dad, and I let him down once. I think it's hard for him to overcome. And now he even has to realise that he has to rely on us, because he'll need – he needs help now and will need more and more with every passing day and I think that's what's frightening him the most. How would you feel if you were forced to rely on someone you don't actually trust?" I ask him. It's the bitter truth. Ryan's forced into an unbearable situation and I have to fight to make him trust me – us – again. I have to fight for him. Everything else would end up in a battle he can't engage in without losing precious energy and spirit he'll need for this here.