Quitting

by KateMonster

After the events of "The Outsider", Ryan tries to calm himself down.

Title:  Quitting

Rating:  PG

Disclaimer: While I feel like I own Ryan and Seth, I am sadly disillusioned enough to realize that this is not the case.  Don't sue.

AN:  Not necessarily the most cohesive thing I've ever written, but this was the result of a couple of bored subway commutes and I thought somebody might enjoy reading it, especially with this baseball hiatus dragging on.  Hope you enjoy.

Ryan rolled the cigarette between his still gently shaking fingers.  He was quitting, really, tomorrow, but one last stolen smoke wouldn't kill him.  He'd wandered down to the beach path just to be safe, because the last thing he needed right now was for Kirsten Cohen to see him lighting up, and he'd heard the limo pull up out front about half an hour ago.  So she was definitely home.

            United, we're unstoppable…

            Seth's confident words, marred by doubt all at the same time, still echoed in Ryan's head.  They had echoed all the way back from the hospital, as he and Seth had ridden in silence.  They had echoed all the way into the Cohen house, through the living room, throughout the quiet video game he and Seth had shared before retiring to their respective rooms for the evening, and all the way into the pool house where they'd driven him out here.

            He never had a Seth before, someone looking at him and overwhelming him all at once like that.  Someone so desperate for his attention.  But he was pretty sure he knew that look, and was pretty sure it was how he used to look at Trey, way back before he realized his brother was a junked-up loser.  And with Ryan's luck, Seth's infatuation with a Real!Live!Friend! would be over soon, the friendship would fall apart, and as quickly as they took him in, the Cohens would be sending him packing to Austin.  Or somewhere.

            He was pretty sure Seth didn't get it.  In Seth's world, things didn't change like they did in Ryan's.  Seth's parents, his house, his money, his outcast status, it was all constant, and the only real change in his life was Ryan, and here was Seth insisting it was for the better.

            Ryan didn't want to admit that he was about as attached to Seth as he'd been to anybody.  Didn't want to be seen as dependent, or weak, or needy.  He knew already that his flaw was emotion – his father yelling at him how boys didn't cry, A. J. beating the crap out of him whenever he got angry, Trey laughing at him in scorn if he was happy.  The real Ryan wanted to just up and tell Seth to quit being such a fucking martyr and come hang out the other night, but the surface Ryan couldn't allow himself to look so clingy.  The real Ryan wanted to lock himself in the bathroom and cry and scream that sunny morning when he saw his mother disappearing down the hill into a taxi, but the surface Ryan merely sat mutely listening to Seth's babble then spent the afternoon doing somersaults with him in the pool.  The real Ryan wanted to admit that he knew just how much Seth had done for him and that really, Ryan owed him the whole cotillion-party-debacle-favor.  That contrary to what Seth had suggested, they were not settled up on even terms before that.  But surface Ryan just goggled at him and accepted the offer of a return favor.  After all… Ryan would take any favors he could get.  Surface Ryan, anyway.  Cause every part of him knew how much he needed them.

            It struck him suddenly that he could see the Cooper house from where he was on the path.  He slowly lowered the lit cigarette, ashed into the sand, and scanned for any sign of Marissa.  Naturally she would want nothing to do with him now, after standing her up twice and then helpfully allowing her ex to be shot.  He really should have been pissed at Seth, it was fully his right, and he couldn't figure out why he wasn't, except that he could see the difference between malice and stupidity.  Same reason he forgave Trey so quickly.  Wasn't like the guy wanted to fuck Ryan's life up.  Trey was just plain stupid.  Seth wasn't so stupid, but he at least deserved the same patience as Trey.  Seth Cohen had done more for Ryan in one month than Trey Atwood had done in sixteen years.  And that had to count for something.

            A figure appeared on the balcony, a small figure.  Was it…?  Ryan squinted.  No.  It was too small to be Marissa.  It was Caitlyn Cooper, and even from this far away in the darkness, he could see that the kid was crying.  Even she was bright enough to see her life was being screwed.

            Ryan took another drag on the cigarette, and exhaled the smoke in a sigh of relief.  It felt good to smoke, even if he was quitting soon.  Tomorrow. 

            What would happen if Marissa's dad went to jail?  He wondered if maybe the guy would end up sharing a cell with Ryan's dad.  That'd be a gas.  He smiled at the thought of driving down on visiting day with Marissa, then remembered attacking Z during his own visiting hours, and now he wasn't smiling anymore.  They didn't put people like Jimmy Cooper in jails with people like his dad, anyway.  No, Marissa's dad would be in some white collar prison with HBO and a private cell.  Ryan wasn't really sure what state prison was like, he couldn't tell from the visitor's room and his dad had never shared much.  But if it was anything like juvie, a guy like Jimmy wouldn't last a day there, while a guy like Ryan's dad?  Fit right in.

            And where did Ryan fit now?  Plucked from juvie into the lap of luxury?  Living a fucking Cinderella rags-to-riches story?  He heard somebody once wrote an Act Two to Cinderella, the Prince cheated on her with Sleeping Beauty (or was it Snow White?), before turning into a complete dick and leaving her.  To Ryan, it made sense.  Even as a kid, he never bought into fairy tales and happy endings.  The only real ending was death, and it wasn't happy.

            He wasn't dead yet.  Not quite happy, but in some ways his life was becoming less miserable.  And he did fit in, with Seth, at least, if nowhere else.  And it all came down to Seth in the end again. 

            The embers were creeping closer to Ryan's fingers now, and with a start he tossed the cigarette in the sand, stomping on it. Without thinking, he dug into his pocked for the pack of smokes.  A second couldn't hurt.  He was quitting tomorrow, after all.

            On the balcony, a second figure appeared, and Ryan caught his breath.  The package of cigarettes sat limply in his hand, forgotten.  He watched, breathing slowly, feeling rotten like some sort of spy as he stood in the unlit shadows of the beach trail.

            She said something to her sister, quietly, too far away for him to hear, and Caitlyn nodded in response, looking away.  Ryan rolled his tongue in his mouth.  He knew he shouldn't keep watching, but he couldn't help it.

            He wanted to tell them, having a dad in jail, it wasn't so bad, but even if he wasn't so far away he couldn't say it, since he knew it wasn't true.  Everything had only gotten worse since his father's arrest and conviction, and he knew life was not about to get easier for the Cooper sisters anytime soon.  He also knew he probably didn't want to tell Marissa that, really…

            Anyway, she didn't need to hear it from him now.  That spark, the one that had grown into a roaring flame and nearly consumed him earlier in the pool house, he was pretty sure it had gone out in her.  God, he thought, finally digging for his lighter, I want that… But he didn't see it happening.

            He flipped the safety on the lighter, and popped the flame open, carefully shielding it from the sea breeze as he touched it to the end of the cigarette.  Satisfied with the glow, he released the catch, shoved the lighter back in the pocket with the smokes, and took another rewarding drag.

            He glanced back to the balcony just in time to see Marissa take her sister into her arms, comforting her.  He wasn't under the impression they were all that close, but then again, under pressure… he remembered how distant Trey used to seem, how big and old and foreign, until… he remembered when.  It was right after the sentencing hearing, when they learned Dad had a life sentence, and Trey told Mom flat-out that he was taking Ryan.  He was confused, but he followed, tagging at his heels until they wound up at a Wendy's.  Trey ordered six frosties, four burgers and a huge thing of fries, put them all on a table between the two of them, and informed Ryan they could leave when it was all eaten.  And so they did.  They still didn't talk about stuff, not like he and Seth did, but after that Ryan at least felt like he got Trey.

             A cool breeze was blowing in off the ocean as Ryan slowly drew on his last cigarette, watching the Cooper sisters from the beach path. This was his life now?  …This was his life now.  Sneaking cigarettes, smelling the salt water and stalking pretty rich girls. 

How much farther could he push Marissa before she turned on him like everybody else he clung to?  If he could help it at all he'd push her away, but that wasn't an option.  He had never fallen this hard for a girl before, he couldn't get her out of his mind, it brightened his day just to see her, even from this far and under these circumstances.  Naturally he couldn't fall for the easy pick, he had to go and make it all hard on himself.  Summer Roberts, she'd be an easy pick.  Practically threw herself at him, hot as all get-out, and most importantly, single.  There was the whole Seth factor to consider, of course… but Summer wasn't the only Summer.  So many girls would do so much less to complicate his life.  Maybe he liked the complication?  No, he was pretty sure that wasn't it.

            He extended the cigarette and tapped it gently with his index finger, scattering still more ash into the sand.  He wondered if Marissa really smoked, or if she was just faking it to have an excuse to talk to him that first night.  It killed him, this knowledge that she dug him so strongly.  Luke or not, Ryan was the one she looked at during the fashion show, the one who carried her in from the driveway in the night, who she came to see in the model home, who escorted her to cotillion and listened when she needed to talk. Not that Ryan was necessarily the best option, but still.

            The knowledge that she didn't view him as some white trash loser kid, that she'd agreed with clearly reserved enthusiasm when he'd asked her out… hell, there'd been chicks in Chino far less receptive to him.  And none so breathtakingly beautiful or heartbreakingly in need of being loved as Marissa Cooper.  He wasn't sure what he wanted from her, only that he wanted more of it.

            He jumped about a foot at the sound of the cough behind him, whirling around suddenly.  One word popped into his head:  Shitshitshit.  Or was that three words?  He tossed the cigarette behind him, backing up to try and stomp it out discreetly with his sandal. 

            "Uh, hi," he said, wondering if there was a way out of this one.  She'd seen the cigarette, all right.  Her eyes rose from his boot and bored into him, looking so tired.  Tired of trying to keep one step ahead of this kid from a world she didn't understand?  Tired of juvenile delinquency invading her home and influencing her son?  Tired because it was late at night and she'd had a long weekend herself?  He wasn't sure.  He had to play it safe.  "Uh, I'm still tryin'… to quit," he said lamely.

            She closed her eyes briefly before looking up at him.  "Maybe you need a twelve-step program."

            "Maybe," he said, grateful that at least she wasn't reaming him out.  Yet.  Or should he be grateful?  Kirsten was always the most polite to him when she was uncomfortable with him.  She had yet to ream him out, and he was somewhat nervous about what that implied.  "Just when I'm, you know, stressed out, it's…"  He shrugged helplessly.

            "You're stressed out?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

            Again, Ryan shrugged, looking away, at the ground, at the smoldering cigarette, at the balcony of the Coopers' house, anywhere but directly at Kirsten Cohen.  He stomped on it again, putting out the last of the embers, not that it mattered there in the heavy sand.

            "I heard about what happened to Luke Ward tonight," she said clearly, and his head shot up.  Now he looked at her, resigned, searching her face for signs of his fate.  "You two were there?"

            "I – no… well, yeah," he said.  Of course she heard.  Gossip and news in this town took on a life of its own.  She'd probably had the police reports recited to her verbatim by the captain's wife or something.  Wasn't that the way it worked in this town?  "We were gonna, you know, tell you guys, but Seth was sleepy, and I… just needed to walk."  Lame.  Lame, lame.  But then, the pressure of having to impress Kirsten Cohen tended to bring his functioning level down a few notches, ironically enough.

            Kirsten nodded, perhaps a little too frantically, as she shifted her position.  "Maryann Fisher called me a little while ago.  She's freaked out, talking about not letting Holly have any more unsupervised parties."

            Ryan had to crack a grin at that one.  He'd like to see them try and stop Holly's infamous parties.  In fact, he'd like that a lot.  "Good luck," he murmured, then considered.  "Probably not a bad idea, from what I've seen of Holly's parties."

            Kirsten smiled as well.  Ryan relaxed slightly.  She still wasn't reaming him out.  This was good.  Right?  "How do they, ah, compare to Chino parties?" Kirsten ventured, and Ryan stared at her in surprise.  Even less than her husband and son, Kirsten had avoided any mention of Chino, the Atwoods, or anything to do with any part of his life before he'd come to stay with them.  It was as if she typically wanted to pretend that he had just materialized, as if he'd been sitting in the corner all along waiting for them to invite him in, with no previous existence of any significance…

            "Let's just say I never been in an ambulance before," he said wryly.

            "You really rode with Luke in the ambulance?" she asked in disbelief.  "Maryann said that… I thought for sure she had it wrong.  What, did you want to see him expire in front of your eyes?"

            "No!" he cried out, and she suddenly looked ashamed.

            "I'm sorry," she said immediately.  "That was uncalled for.  I'm sorry."

            "No, I just… well, you got a point, but… I was there and all, and I was the first one to give him First Aid, so it made sense…"

            "You gave Luke Ward First Aid?" she asked, amazed, speaking slowly as though she wasn't sure she understood.

            "Yeah, well, I had to take the training back when I was workin' construction, and then when you know it you're kinda expected to use it.  Kinda obligated, you know?"

            "I know, but Luke?"

            He shot her a look of scorn.  "I don't like the guy, I think he's an ass, but it doesn't mean I want to see him dead."  Then he caught himself.  Should he have said 'ass'?  Seth used it, but did he ever use it in front of his mother?  For that matter, did anyone swear in front of Kirsten?  Did she even know what it meant-?

            "I know you're a good kid," she said immediately, interrupting his train of thought.  "But helping your adversary like that… Ryan, you did a good thing.  A lot of people wouldn't."

            "He did it first."  He turned away.  "Luke… pulled me out of the fire," he muttered.

            "What?" she asked.

            He raised his voice slightly.  "When the house burned down… I wouldn't have made it out, but he pulled me out.  Even after the fight."  He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.  Calculating, thinking.  "I owed him," he added as an afterthought.

            "You almost died?" she asked faintly.

            "Eh.  Maybe," he said.  "The smoke was getting to me, Luke and his guys had just kicked my ass and I couldn't get up."

She shook her head slowly.  He glanced away, uncomfortable.  "I didn't realize it was that bad."

He shrugged.  It wasn't something Ryan wanted to think about all that much.  "There was three of them," he pointed out defensively. 

Kirsten let out a small snort at that, then stopped.  "Three?"

"I mean, me and Luke were alone," Ryan said in a rush, glancing away.  "I don't know why I said-"

She sighed.  "Forget it, Ryan, it's a moot point now anyway.  What happened tonight?  Maryann Fisher said everyone is saying it was a friend of yours, but…"

            "…I don't have any friends?" Ryan finished for her.  He turned around and offered up another wry grin, which she returned, much to his relief.  "Naw.  It's a long story… guy from the Crab Shack, the kid who trained me over there, went a little nuts.  I didn't really know him."

            "You brought him to the party?"

            Ryan hesitated.  His eyes went back down to the cigarette.  "No."

            "Maryann said-"

            "Forget it, forget what Maryann said.  Maryann wasn't there."

            "Ryan."

            "I mean, yeah.  I did."

            Kirsten folded her arms.  "Ryan Atwood.  You and I don't know each other very well yet.  But I do know you well enough to tell when you're not being honest with me."

            "How-?"  He kicked at the sand nervously.

            "Call it mother's instinct."  She smiled, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably underneath her look.  He'd lied a few times to Kirsten Cohen.  Chances were he'd have to lie about some more.  He hoped she wasn't that good at seeing through him.  "Why is it so hard for you to open up to me with these things?"

            He looked up, startled.  "Why shouldn't it be?" he asked.  "I mean, it's like, you know how much I want to stay here, and I know how much you didn't want me to-"

            "That is not true."

            Ryan glanced away.  "Right."  He paused.  "It was."

            "It's not anymore.  Ryan, I wouldn't have let you stay if I didn't-"

            "I know," he said in a rush.  That was the truth.  If Kirsten didn't want him there, he wouldn't be there.  End of story.  "Yeah, I know.  But still… I just…" He sighed.  "I don't want you to think I'm… a bad influence."

            "What really happened tonight?"

            "It was still my fault," he said in a rush.  "Seth and I, we were kind of off doing our own thing, and he was bored cause I had… other, uh, plans, so he had the idea to take Donnie to Holly's party.  If we'd known what he was gonna pull, we wouldn't have.  I mean, Seth wouldn't, and I wouldn't a let him.  I mean, soon as Seth found out he was carrying a gun he called me, and he tried to stop the fight…  he did everything right, he's a real smart kid," Ryan added, still stumbling in his hurry to get the words out before Kirsten could interrupt.

            She opened her mouth.  And closed her mouth.  "Okay," she said finally.

            "Okay," he echoed, somewhat relieved that the words "child services" and "have a nice life" weren't coming out of her mouth.  Not yet.

            "Where were you tonight?" she asked, as though she couldn't help herself.

            He swallowed.  "Home," he said, avoiding eye contact.  "Does it matter…?"  He caught the look on her face out of the corner of her eye and sighed.  "Me and Marissa were hanging out."

            "Ah," Kirsten said.  "I don't need to know anymore."  Her eyes suddenly bored in to him.  "Do I?"

            "No," he said.  "Uh, no, we just… made dinner…"  Why was he even telling her this?  It was none of her business…

            "How iis/i Marissa?"

            He licked his lips.  "Bout as well as could be expected," he said.  "I mean, not great.  But it's not easy.  She's goin' through some… stuff."

            There was a long silence.  Kirsten sighed, air puffing from her lips as Ryan watched quietly.  "She knows, doesn't she?"

            "What, that her dad has no money?  That her parents might split up?  She knows all that.  I don't think she knows he could go to jail, though."

            Her eyes narrowed.  "Where did you hear that?"

            "Oh," Ryan said, wincing slightly.  Eavesdropping on you with your husband?  Yeah, that one would work.  "Just… I heard it around."

            "You wouldn't say anything."

            Ryan shrugged, relieved, and glanced towards the water.  "Not my place."

            "So," she said, and toggled an eyebrow up. 

            Play innocent, he decided.  Best way to handle it.  "So what?"

            "Are you or aren't you?"

            "What?"

            She goggled at him.  "Single?"

            He couldn't keep his eyes from popping out slightly.  Just when he thought he had Kirsten down, she'd go and shock him like that.  "Wha? I mean – yeah.  After her ex got shot tonight and everybody's blaming it on me?  I think I'm still single."  He sighed.  "For now."  He licked his lips, trying to keep his emotions from showing on his face. 

            "Marissa doesn't know what she's missing," Kirsten assured him.  "The other girls don't, either-"

            "You don't know that," Ryan said.  "You don't know me.  For all you know, I'm a bastard to all the girls."

            "I know you're not," she shot back.  He looked at her in surprise.  "I believe in you, I've seen that much in you so far."

            "You see a lot, don't you?" he asked hesitantly.  "You… you watch everything."

            "It's the Newpsie in me," she confessed.  "If you can't beat 'em?  Join 'em."

            He had to smile.  "Isn't that like the unofficial motto of Newport Beach?"

            "God, I hope not," she retorted.  She tilted her head as she regarded him.  "Though you're probably right.  You ever consider making that your motto?"

            He shrugged.  "I'm not doing so well with it here, am I?"

            "Well…"  She considered.  "You and the water polo team seem to have a great relationship going there."

            The corner of his mouth curled up automatically.  "Seth never joined 'em."

            "True," Kirsten said.

            "He's not like the other kids around here."

            She sighed.  "No.  No, he's not."

            "He's cool.  I really don't get why nobody sees that."

            "True," she said again, and then smiled at him.  "You see that.  I see that."

            "Uh huh," he said, staring at the stomped-out cigarette and wishing he could have it in his hands right now.  Kirsten didn't see that – Ryan knew as much, but he wasn't about to say it.  She saw Seth as a cool eight-year-old, not a sixteen-year-old.  Not his place to say.  "I'll try and keep Seth out of trouble.  I promise."

            "And yourself," Kirsten admonished.  "It's not just Seth I'm worried about anymore."

            "I can take care of myself."

            "I know," she said impatiently.  "I know you can take care of yourself, you keep reminding us of that every day.  Getting a job, living your own life.  You do what you have to do, but remember that Sandy and I are here.  For you.  Whatever you need.  We're not kidding."

            He shrugged.  "Thanks?"

            "You're welcome," she said emphatically, and then smiled at him.  "Ryan."

            "Huh?"

            "You're not going anywhere.  Relax."

            He let out a deep breath.  "Right."  He offered a slight smile.

            She reached awkwardly for his shoulder to give it a small pat.  "It'll be okay.  Luke's fine, we want you in our household, Marissa or some other lucky girl will see the light of day someday."

            He shuddered involuntarily, causing her to draw her hand back in surprise.  "Thanks," he said, somewhat more sincerely.  "Thanks, that… that's good to hear."

            "Just be careful," she said, the sympathy draining from her face.  "Your probation officer is willing to overlook this one since you were clearly acting to defuse the situation, but…"

            "You talked to my probation officer?" Ryan squeaked.  His palms felt clammy, his body felt weak.  He shuffled his feet to ground himself on the sandy path.

            "Calm down, it's fine," she said.  "All the witnesses they talked to agreed.  Not just Seth, but the others, too.  Even Luke managed to get out a few words in your defense.  You were trying to defuse a dangerous situation, and nobody holds you accountable for what happened.  This time."

            He sighed.  "Next time?"

            "Next time I can't say. So, Ryan?"

            "Yeah?"

            "Make sure there is no next time.  I mean it."

            "I'm trying."

"I know you are."  She pursed her lips, glancing out at the water herself.  "This will work out, Ryan.  If we all work together."

            He shot her a sideways look.  "Yeah.  Okay."

            She turned to the other side, and finally saw what he'd been watching, the slender figure silhouetted on a balcony up the hill.  Alone.  The smaller figure was long gone.  Kirsten watched for a long moment before turning back to him.  "Ryan, just… just be careful?  She's a good girl, but… things are difficult over there enough right now."

            "Without me in the mix," he said heavily.  "I get it."

            "That's not what I'm…"  She sighed. 

"That is what you're saying."
           

"Maybe.  Look… you're good enough for her.  I believe that.  I actually think you might be a good thing for her.  Might…"  She shook her head, searching for the right words.  "You might be what she needs.  I don't know.  But I'm not so sure that she's what you need."

He didn't get it.  He stared at her, waiting, listening.

"Just… just be careful.  I know you're sixteen, I know careful isn't the top of your list, but… be careful.  Now more than ever."

            "Right," he said.  He turned again, and this time he caught Marissa watching, peering out at him in the darkness.  She turned and wisped back into the house, closing the sliding door behind her.  How could he be careful when she was around?  She made him want to do things that weren't careful.  She made him want to take chances, want to risk himself, as long as what he was doing would help her, would bring her closer to him.

"I'll see you back at the house," Kirsten said carefully.  He turned back to look at her.  "And Ryan?"

"Hmmm?"

            "Do me a favor and don't let Seth see you smoking those."  She motioned to the cigarette pack poking out of his pocket.

Embarrassed, he shoved it further into his pocket, though the outline was still clearly visible.  "Yeah.  I… he doesn't."

"Good," she said.  "Good.  All right, then."

She turned and started back up the path.  Ryan shuffled his feet and glanced down at the stubbed-out cigarette in the sand.  He picked it up and tossed it into the brush.  It was a waste of what was still a pretty good cigarette, but now that he had an income, he could afford them when he needed them.  And he was quitting anyway.

Tomorrow.