Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "The OC" are the creations of Fox and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Placement: After "The Girlfriend)
The front door to the Cohen's house opened and then closed with a resounding bang. Seth and Ryan, who were playing video games in the den, looked up with interest. Kirsten, Sandy, and Rosa weren't likely candidates to be slamming the front door so who was the mystery guest? The boys' curiosity was quickly answered when Seth's Grandfather's voice boomed down the hallway.
"Where is he?", Caleb bellowed, the echoes of his footsteps indicating he was moving swiftly in the boys' direction. In a matter of seconds, the tanned, fit, sixty-something-year-old man burst into the den where the boys were sitting on the floor, controllers laying slack in their laps.
"There you are, you son of a bitch, " Caleb raged. Without warning, Ryan found himself hauled off the floor by the front of his shirt. Caleb's strong grip held the boy secure.
"Are you out to ruin everything I own?" Caleb growled dangerously. He let go Ryan's shirt and with a shove, sent him sprawling backwards. Ryan could not recover his balance fast enough and he stumbled into the wicker kitchen chairs, tripping and dropping back onto the floor. Caleb skirted the table, reached down and furiously jerked the teenager back onto his feet. He held the teen up, their faces inches apart.
"You seem to like to play with other people's possessions, probably because you have none of your own." Releasing the boy and taking a step back, Caleb threw a right cross, which smashed into the side of Ryan's face. The force of the blow momentarily stunned Ryan while the momentum knocked him flat on his back on the floor.
"Grandpa!" Seth implored, "What are you doing?"
Caleb swung around to face his Grandson. "Seth, this does not involve you. Stay out of it," he commanded harshly.
In the few seconds that Caleb's attention was diverted to Seth, Ryan, regaining some of his senses, managed to scramble to his feet and start to edge away from the incensed man towards the patio doors.
Caleb whirled back to face his escaping quarry. "Sixteen-year-old punk," Caleb snarled, rapidly closing the distance between him and his target again. He launched his fist at the teen again. Ryan ducked the primary blow but was caught soundly by Caleb's subsequent uppercut. The punch drove the teen backwards into the kitchen island, where his head made solid contact with the overhang of the granite countertop. The bar stool wobbled and crashed to the wooden floor. Dazed from hitting his head, Ryan slumped to the floor weaving in and out of consciousness.
Seth stepped in to block his Grandpa as the man once again closed in on the stunned Ryan. Pathway blocked, Caleb snapped at Seth, "This is between Ryan and me. Stay the hell out of my way." The venomous timber in his Grandfather's voice so shocked Seth, that he faltered, allowing his Grandfather to pass by him.
Head reeling and unable to stand, Ryan tried to use the brief respite to crawl towards the patio doors again. He would not fight back against Kirsten's father. He'd run away but not fight.
"Don't slink away from me, you dog!", Caleb ordered turning his attention back on the fleeing teen. With sheer brute force fueled by his fury, Caleb strode over, picked Ryan up by his belt and the back of his shirt, and heaved him across the kitchen towards the patio doors. Ryan hit the tile shoulder first, rolling and flipping onto his back.
Three independent forces joined there to cause an unexpected outcome. Caleb moved in on the limp Ryan and dragged the boy upright like a rag doll. Cocking his fist, Caleb made ready to knock the boy's lights out. Seth, the second force, shook himself out of his funk. Unable to stand by and watch his own Grandfather beat his adoptive brother to a pulp, Seth charged at the duo. The final force was Kirsten, who, having heard the ruckus, burst into the kitchen to investigate.
"What is going on! Dad, what are you doing?" she asked, shocked at the scene unfolding in front of her.
Caleb's concentration momentarily wavered upon hearing Kirsten's voice and his punch towards Ryan faltered ever so slightly off course. Seth's body slam into his midsection, further redirected the flight path of his fist so instead of hitting Ryan in the face as intended, Caleb's blow landed askew, smashing into Ryan's right shoulder. Trying to maintain his balance, which was thrown off by Seth crashing into him, Caleb let go of Ryan shirt at the same instance his punch landed. The result to Ryan was disastrous. The hapless boy's brain and body, already battered, could not compensate quick enough. Equilibrium awry, the teen crashed through the patio door's glass window to land on the cement decking beyond.
"My God," Kirsten said, traveling swiftly across the kitchen and out onto the patio where Ryan lay in a stupor amongst the broken glass. Seth and Caleb who had landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs, slowly climbed to their feet.
Carefully avoiding the glass shards, Kirsten knelt at Ryan's side. "Lay still", she admonished.
Ryan ignored her and slowly pushed himself into a seated position. Laying flat on his back made him feel too vulnerable, especially considering Caleb was back on his feet. When Kirsten saw Ryan was ignoring her advice, she reached out and assisted him in sitting up. Ryan used his right hand to brace himself. His left arm was folded tightly across his stomach.
Kirsten glowered at her Dad. "Dad, what's going on?" she demanded
"That juvenile delinquent screwed Gabrielle," Caleb returned belligerently.
"He what?" she exclaimed, surprised.
"During my birthday party, that punk was having sex with my girlfriend in your pool house."
"I didn't. I didn't," Ryan weakly intoned.
"That's not what she told me," Caleb snarled at the boy taking one step forward.
Ryan, using his feet, tried to inch backwards away from Caleb, his shoes grinding the broken glass into the patio cement.
"Dad," Kirsten cautioned, holding up a hand to symbolically impede her father's forward motion.
Ryan stopped inching away and dropped his pounding head on his t-shirt clad chest. "I kissed her but that was it," he said softly.
Kirsten's gaze rotated back to the beaten boy. "You kissed her? Why did you-" she started to ask but her Dad cut her off.
"You more than kissed her, boy. Don't lie about it. Gabrielle was very specific in what you did to her."
Kirsten looked between the man and the boy, not knowing what or whom to believe.
Caleb ranted on. "I told you this boy was no good, Kirsten. First he burns down my house then screws my girlfriend. You are so done here mister," Caleb said addressing his last remark towards Ryan.
Ryan, head still bowed, closed his eyes. He was so tired. He wanted to pass out, to escape.
Seth cleared his throat to gain attention. "Ryan told me he and Gabrielle did kiss, but it wasn't Ryan's doing. Gabby was mad-dogging him." Seeing the confused look on the adults' faces, Seth added, "She was chasing after him."
Caleb snorted, "He's sixteen. A child. What would Gabrielle want with a boy?"
Seth opened his mouth and then thinking better of it, shut it without answering.
Kirsten glanced down at Ryan. The boy sat, head bowed, eyes closed, hugging his left arm to his chest. The boy was too still
"Ryan?" she asked tentatively. Suddenly her eye was drawn to a spreading red stain on the teen's white tank top. "You're hurt," she charged.
Ryan lethargically raised his head, staring at her in confusion.
"Your shirt," she pointed out, her voice raising a notch. "There's blood all over your shirt."
The boy dropped his eyes to the area in question. His tank top did have a sizable red blotch on it. As he sat there stupidly staring at it, the red edges spread outwards.
"Ryan, move your left arm out of the way," she commanded.
Slowly, the boy complied drawing his arm away from his chest. Everyone's eyes were drawn to the red splotch on Ryan's chest. "Look at his arm Mom," Seth pointed out, shifting his gaze.
All eyes moved from Ryan's chest to his left arm, which was sporting a four- inch gash. The wound was dripping blood at a fairly steady rate onto the patio blocks.
At that moment Sandy, having just arrived home, strolled out onto the patio to see what was going on. He had seen Caleb's car in the driveway and wondered to what honor they owed his visit. The lawyer wasn't prepared for what he found on his patio. Caleb was standing defiantly, hands crossed across his chest staring at Kirsten and Ryan, who were sitting on the patio surrounded by broken glass, Ryan's arm bleeding profusely, Seth, looking shocked, standing off to one side.
"What the hell is going on here?", Sandy inquired incredulously.
Part 2
Sandy drove Ryan to an emergency clinic. They had wrapped the boy's arm tightly in a towel to stem the bleeding. Sandy had to assist the boy into the car as Ryan was not so steady on his feet.
Seth was assigned the chore of cleaning up the broken glass since Rosa had left for the night. After that, Kirsten had ordered him to go to his room. Why, he had no clue.
Kirsten and her father went into the office, securely shutting the door behind them.
Rounding on her Dad, Kirsten demanded, "Just what the hell was that all about! You could have seriously injured Ryan. What were you thinking? "
"What was I thinking? I was thinking the boy screwed my girlfriend. What did you expect me to do, send him a thank you card? That boy is trouble, Kiki. Get rid of him."
"Ryan is not going anywhere. He is part of this family Dad, whether you approve or not."
Caleb shook his head in disgust. "First you marry that no account Sandy, now you take in a juvenile delinquent welfare kid. What's next? A nice gang-banger from the Southside. What about your real son? What about Seth? Do you want him hanging around with the likes of Ryan? Getting into drugs? Next thing you know, you'll have two potheads sitting around the house all day stoned. I suppose they can take lessons from your husband," Caleb finished sarcastically.
"Dad-," she warned letting him know he was starting to cross the line.
"Why you ever dropped charges against the boy," Caleb ranted, "I'll never know. Better he should have rotted in jail. He'll amount to no good. He'll bring you and this family to ruin. Mark my words."
"Where's Gabrielle now?" Kirsten asked, choosing to ignore her father's last comment.
Caleb turned away from his daughter gazing out the windows at the ocean view. "She gone," he finally replied, his voice bitter.
"She left you?", Kirsten asked surprised.
Caleb snorted. "I told her to go. What do I want with a slut who sleeps with a juvenile delinquent."
Kirsten moved around until she faced her father. She studied his face for a moment. "That's what this is really about. Your ego is bruised. Because she told you she slept with Ryan."
"Don't be ridiculous," Caleb blustered. "The boy needs to learn to respect what belongs to others. That kid is out of control. If you are not going to teach him respect then I will!"
"How? By beating the crap out of him? What did you teach him tonight? That fists are a way to solve a problem? I gotta tell you Dad, Ryan already knows how to fight his way out of a situation. He needs to learn how to use something other than his fists to resolve conflict. Thanks for your help, Dad," she said scornfully.
Kirsten continued, "Did you ever consider that maybe Gabrielle did not sleep with Ryan? That she was just trying to bait you, to make you mad so you would tell her to leave. Because maybe, being twenty-four, she was a little bored hanging with a sixty-two-year-old man."
"Don't you talk to me that way, young lady. I won't stand for it," Caleb cautioned his daughter.
"And I won't stand for you coming into my house and beating on my son all for the sake of your wounded pride!"
"Don't be a fool, Kirsten," Caleb spat. "I'm not standing here listening to this crap any longer," he concluded, turning on his heel and heading towards the door.
"What's the matter, Dad," she addressed his retreating back. "Am I hitting a little to close to home? Maybe you should check your facts with Gabrielle again. You might be the one playing the role of the fool, not me."
Caleb stormed from the room. Kirsten heard the front door slam, followed by the squeal of tires on the driveway as her father sped away. When all was quiet again, she sunk into the chair behind the desk and placed her head in her hands. Her gut told her this was only round one.
Part 3
Sandy drove Ryan to the clinic. Twenty stitches later, Ryan was released with a sling, a prescription for pain medication and a warning to keep the arm in the sling, immobile, for seven days to give the wound a chance to heal. As for the bruise and cut on his left cheek where Caleb's first shot had landed, nothing other than time was prescribed as the remedy. The doctor had also given him something for the pain but warned it might make the boy dopey and confused. The doctor was right.
Ryan felt totally washed out. He desperately wanted to be home in his bed. His mind was in a very bad place. Like a hamster in a wheel, his thoughts kept circling round and round, reminding him of what a screw-up he was; accusing him of ruining everyones' lives; pointing out how he didn't belong; telling him he was trash. Unable to break the cycle, Ryan wallowed in a sea of self-pity and self-loathing.
As they drove down the coast road towards home, a small portion of Ryan's mind pondered how long it would be before Sandy asked the burning question. Did he have sex with Gabrielle? Sandy's gaze flickered from the road to Ryan and back, rapidly and repetitively. The teen kind of hoped Sandy would not ask but he honestly didn't think it would play out that way. The Cohen's liked to get things out in the open, quickly.
Sandy cleared his throat, following it up with another quick glance at Ryan. 'Here it comes,' Ryan thought.
"So, Ryan. Those accusations that Kirsten's father made, about you and Gabrielle. Were they true?"
Ryan looked sideways at Sandy then out the window. He tried to form a rational answer with his muddled mind. "No, well yes, but not totally," the boy replied addressing the passing scenery. He ran a weary hand through his blond locks. "I did kiss her, more than once," he said ducking his head sideways. "But I didn't have sex with her- though," Ryan said, his voice dropping and becoming husky, "I would have-, if we hadn't been interrupted. She was- intense and I was- stupid."
Sandy kept his face neutral. "Who interrupted you? Not Caleb?"
A long stretch of silence descended upon the car. Sandy had almost given up on Ryan answering, when the boy finally heaved a sigh and said, with regret, "Marissa."
"Ouch."
Ryan shook his head ruefully. "Major. She saw us, ran off, left with Luke and then, well-," he trailed off, wincing at the memory.
"Then-," Sandy prompted.
Ryan looked plaintively at Sandy. "Let it drop- please."
Sandy took the hint and moved on. "So why does Caleb think you and Gabrielle had sex?"
Ryan raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. She mentioned she was bored. That being with Caleb was a job, business arrangement. Maybe she wanted to move on. Figured this was a good way to escape. Make the old man jealous so he throws her out."
The hamster wheel made another rotation in Ryan's brain. "I guess I got what I deserved," he added resignedly. The teenager stared moodily out the window again, with beaches on the right and humongous houses to the left. Money, everywhere you looked. Class. A lifestyle so alien to his own. He didn't fit in here and the harder he tried the worse it was. 'Face the facts,' Ryan admonished himself. 'You don't belong here. And you never will.'
With his eyes firmly glued on the richly terraformed landscape, he quietly queried Sandy. "If you had to find- my mom again- could you?"
"Sure," Sandy replied, cautiously. "But why?"
Ryan swallowed hard, his voice laden with emotion. "What if- What if I wanted to move out, move back with her?"
Sandy did not offer a reply. Instead, he pulled the car off to the side of the road and shut off the engine. Sandy turned towards Ryan. The boy's eyes reflected his misery, his jaw line showed the tension he was feeling. "Ryan, what is this about?" he probed gently
The car became too oppressive to Ryan. He flung open his door and wavering slightly, stepped onto the dirt shoulder of the roadway. The ocean breeze felt cool on his flushed cheeks. He leaned on the hood of the car, bracing himself with his good arm. Head hanging low, he stood there, breathing raggedly. Sandy slowly got out of the car, walking around the front of the car to stand near the troubled teen.
Staring intently at the hood of the car, Ryan spoke, his voice barely pitched above a whisper. "I don't fit in here, with these people. And the harder I try to fit in, the more of an outsider I become. I wanna go home. Back to Chino. Where I belong."
"You're in a bad place now. Give it time, Ryan."
The boy looked up at Sandy, his eyes flooded with pain. "Time! I walk into anyplace around here and it's like there is a big sign that says 'scum' hanging around my neck." He slowly shook his head as in disbelief. "Time isn't going to change that. I'm always going to be the outsider."
Ryan took a depth breath, narrowing his eyes. "This place, it's like a disease. There is no clear 'right'. No clear 'wrong'. Just mind numbing greyness. Back home, I use to know what to do, how to act, but now, this place, it's sucking the life out of me-"
Feeling dizzy, Ryan shifted to lean his back against the car. Blinking to try to clear his vision, Ryan addressed his remarks to the brilliant blue ocean. "I have made nothing but bad choices since I got here. I took Seth to a party where he got drunk and beaten up. I ran away, burned down a house, caused a riff between Marissa and Luke, tackled a man during a debutante ball, introduced Seth to Donnie, trashed a $70,000 car, caused Luke to get shot and then fooled around with Kirsten's father's girlfriend. What the hell will be next?" he asked rubbing his good hand over his face in frustration.
"You were not alone in those events," Sandy countered.
Ryan swung round on Sandy, his voice rising and becoming edgy. "You don't get it. This place, it's- making me like them," he gestured towards the opulent houses distastefully. "Shallow, superficial. Damn it, Sandy, I should have known better than to screw around with Gabrielle. What is it about this place that makes me so damn stupid!"
Sandy answered with brutal honesty. "It's not this place Ryan, that is making you act stupid. It's the fact that you are infatuated with Marissa Cooper. This hot and cold game you two are playing, it's dangerous. It's affecting your judgment and one or both of you are going to get burned, big time."
Ryan flinched uncomfortably as Sandy's remarks it home.
Sandy went on. "At the party, you decided Marissa had chosen Luke over you didn't you? So when Gabrielle came along you figure, what the hell, if I can't have Marissa, Gabrielle will do. Ryan, buddy, that was a risky and frankly, stupid game to play. Did you even think about what would happen if Caleb had caught you?"
"I told Gabby it wasn't a good idea but-", Ryan started to counter but Sandy gave him a hard look. "Ok," Ryan admitted, "I could've stopped it if I had really wanted too." Ryan dropped his head to his chest in distress. "God, I think I drove Marissa to have sex with Luke. How can I ever look her in the eye again? I gotta get out of this place."
"Ryan, look at me." Ryan slowly raised his head to meet Sandy's eyes. "Marissa's a big girl and it was her decision, not yours." Ryan started to speak but Sandy held up a hand to stop him. "You might have been a catalyst, but in the end, it was Marissa's choice."
Moisture formed in Ryan's eyes and he swallowed painfully. The thought of Marissa and Luke together like that, it was more than he could bear.
A wave of physical pain, driven by his emotional state washed across Ryan causing him to stumble against the car. Sandy reached out a hand to steady him. "Enough. Back in the car. We're going home before you collapse." Sandy helped Ryan back into the car before getting in himself and restarting the engine. "We can talk more about this later, tomorrow, after you've had a chance to rest and clear your head."
Ryan didn't reply. Closing his eyes, he laid his head back against the headrest and let fatigue wash over him. Mentally aiming a gun at the hamster, he pulled the trigger, killing the rodent. But the wheel kept spinning and the pain, it did not go away.