"Brother's Keeper", chapter 2
Thanks for all feedback on chapter 1. It's still weird to be writing anything other than Buffyfic, but I think I'm getting used to it. The story of Ryan and brother, Trey, continues.
Ryan's appetite was gone so he made a huge sandwich for Trey and then leaned against the counter watching him devour it.
"So, you going to some kinda prep school now?" his brother sneered. "Got a blazer and pleated skirt?"
"Harbor School," Ryan answered shortly. "It's... No, there's no uniform."
"Huh," Trey grunted. "Hard?"
"There's a lot of work, but no, not too hard," he answered.
"Well, you always were 'the smart one' like mom said." Trey downed a can of soda in three gulps.
Ryan shrugged and looked away. Awkward silence filled the kitchen. Finally Ryan cleared his throat and asked the question that was on his mind.
"You have a court date set?"
"Yeah. I think it's next week sometime."
Ryan flashed him an alarmed look. "You don't know? Look, Trey, you can't just forget to show up. You're in big trouble and ignoring it will make it ten times worse. Did they appoint you a lawyer? A lot of those public defenders suck. Maybe I can talk to Mr. Cohen. He really knows what he's doing. Maybe he can help you...."
"Actually, I thought I might be out of town by next week," Trey interrupted. "Thought it might be time for a little vacation to Mexico."
Ryan opened then closed his mouth, amazed at his brother's monumental stupidity and amazed at himself for being surprised by it. Twenty years' worth of incidents proved that if there was a wrong path to take, Trey would walk it.
"Man, you can't...." He stopped and tried a different tack. "They'll find you eventually, you know."
"You think?" Trey grinned. "You think the police got nothing better to do than track me down? I stole a car for chrissakes, Ryan, I didn't kill somebody or knock over a store. I'm not even a blip on the radar, bud."
Ryan fell silent. He'd learned long ago and the hard, fist-in-the-gut way that arguing with his brother was futile. Trey would do whatever he wanted, regardless of sense or morality or whoever he might hurt.
"Well ... good luck," he finally muttered.
"I could use a little travel money, though," Trey forged on. "I mean, forty bucks, that's good and all, but I'm gonna need mucho mas dinero to live on for a while in Mexico."
"But forty is all I've got," Ryan replied firmly, an uneasy suspicion beginning to tickle the back of his brain.
Trey looked around the kitchen, then turned in his seat and scanned the rest of the house.
"This is a big place," he commented blandly. "There's gotta be a couple of things that wouldn't be missed...."
"No!" Ryan cut him off. He pushed away from the counter and took a step forward, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He removed some bills and cast them on the table. "This is what I have. This is what you get."
Trey looked at the money and shook his head. "That's not gonna cut it." He stood up from the chair. "Come on, Ry, I'm in deep shit here. With my priors I could get locked up for a long time." He turned entreating eyes on Ryan. "I'm not asking you to do anything that could fuck you up. Just show me the code for the security and I'll come back another day - you don't even have to know which one. You'll be able to say you don't know anything about it."
Ryan, shaking his head, moved toward him. "Not gonna happen." He drew himself up, trying to look taller and maybe a little menacing. "You're leaving now."
Trey nodded, "Yeah. I had a feeling you'd say that." Lightning quick his hand flew out and punched Ryan in the jaw, rocking him back on his feet. Not giving him time to recover, Trey grabbed and swung him around, pinning him against the counter, drawing Ryan's right arm painfully up his back.
"So I got a back up plan," he hissed in his ear. "Sorry." He drove Ryan's forehead into the counter with a sharp crack.
Ryan only had time to think, "Oh fuck," before he passed out.
*************
"Oh god! Sandy, call 911," Ryan heard a frantic, high-pitched voice mingled with the ringing in his head. He groaned and tried to turn over but it made the room spin even faster so he stopped.
"He's alive," a deeper voice was saying somewhere off to his left. Something warm wrapped around his wrist. ".a pulse."
His head was splitting. Ryan had no doubt that in about a second it would crack wide open and one of the toothy spawn of Alien would burst out.
".on their way . so much blood ."
"Sshh," the deep voice soothed and added something about needing a towel. All Ryan could think was that someone had dripped pool water all over the kitchen floor again - probably Seth - he was careless like that.
He drifted off for a time, still vaguely aware of the jabbering voices, which seemed to have turned into a whole crowd of people. Then there were hands moving him and an insistent voice trying to get his attention.
"What's his name? Ryan?"
He wished everyone would be quiet so he could go back to sleep.
"Ryan. Can you hear me?"
"Shutup," he mumbled.
"Yeah. He's conscious."
"Blood pressure's.."
They were lifting him now and laying him on something very like his cheap futon at home, only they were strapping him to it and he didn't like that. His eyes flickered open for a moment. He had to see what was going on. A couple of strangers loomed over him, but right behind them was Sandy's worried face. He wanted to laugh. Seth was right, the brows really did look like caterpillars.
"Hey," Sandy said, giving him a reassuring smile. Ryan tried to smile back and managed a kind of grimace.
"Let me ride in the ambulance with him," he heard Kristen, out of his line of sight, insisting. "He's going to be disoriented if he regains consciousness. He needs a familiar face."
"Honey," Sandy voice drew her over. "He's awake."
Then there was Kristen, face blotchy, eyes puffy, flustering over him with motherly concern. She seized his hand and held it while the paramedics lifted and transported him to the ambulance.
"You're all right now. Everything's all right," she crooned in a repetitive mantra.
Then the cylinders started clicking in Ryan's head, he remembered what had led up to him lying unconscious on the kitchen floor, and he knew that it really wasn't going to be all right. Not at all.
******** "I told you, I got up from my chair to get . something else to eat. Thought I heard something behind me but before I could turn whoever it was grabbed me and shoved my face into the counter." Ryan repeated the story for the third time, working to maintain eye contact with the cop.
"And you didn't hear anything prior to that? No noises from the other room or."
"No. I guess I was still thinking about my homework," Ryan extemporized. "If there were any sounds, I didn't hear 'em."
The cop looked down at his notes then back to Ryan's face. He nodded slowly. "All right then." He stood up and reached out to shake his hand. "Uh, I may have further questions later, but I guess we're done for now." He gave Ryan's hand a firm squeeze.
The cop shook hands with both the Cohens as well. Ryan watched him out the door then turned to Sandy.
"Can we go now?"
"They're keeping you overnight. You had a concussion and they want to make sure.."
"No. Please," Ryan begged. "I just . I need to go.." He couldn't say home. It wasn't his home after all. He had only deluded himself into thinking it was for a while. "I'm okay. Really," he continued.
"I'll see what I can do," Kirsten answered quietly, leaving the room.
Sandy was actually quiet as they waited, so Ryan knew something was up. Finally he spoke.
"Ryan, if there's anything else you want to tell me about what happened, it won't go any farther than this room."
Ryan stonewalled. He couldn't bring himself to lie and say everything had been exactly as he'd told the cop, so he didn't say anything at all.
Sandy waited a little bit then continued. "You know, everything that was taken can be replaced. Nothing that really mattered to us was stolen. But you ... You could have been really hurt, maybe even...."
He paused, took a breath and went on. "Anyway, whoever did this to you ... doesn't deserve to be protected." He fixed Ryan with a steady stare that burned like hot coals. "You know that," he affirmed.
Ryan swallowed dryly and gave a little shrug.
"All right then," Sandy swept on, breaking his gaze. "I'm sure you'll let me know if you remember anything later." He patted Ryan on the shoulder. "Just get some rest now and we'll bust you outta here soon. Kirsten never takes 'no' for an answer."
To be continued....
Thanks for all feedback on chapter 1. It's still weird to be writing anything other than Buffyfic, but I think I'm getting used to it. The story of Ryan and brother, Trey, continues.
Ryan's appetite was gone so he made a huge sandwich for Trey and then leaned against the counter watching him devour it.
"So, you going to some kinda prep school now?" his brother sneered. "Got a blazer and pleated skirt?"
"Harbor School," Ryan answered shortly. "It's... No, there's no uniform."
"Huh," Trey grunted. "Hard?"
"There's a lot of work, but no, not too hard," he answered.
"Well, you always were 'the smart one' like mom said." Trey downed a can of soda in three gulps.
Ryan shrugged and looked away. Awkward silence filled the kitchen. Finally Ryan cleared his throat and asked the question that was on his mind.
"You have a court date set?"
"Yeah. I think it's next week sometime."
Ryan flashed him an alarmed look. "You don't know? Look, Trey, you can't just forget to show up. You're in big trouble and ignoring it will make it ten times worse. Did they appoint you a lawyer? A lot of those public defenders suck. Maybe I can talk to Mr. Cohen. He really knows what he's doing. Maybe he can help you...."
"Actually, I thought I might be out of town by next week," Trey interrupted. "Thought it might be time for a little vacation to Mexico."
Ryan opened then closed his mouth, amazed at his brother's monumental stupidity and amazed at himself for being surprised by it. Twenty years' worth of incidents proved that if there was a wrong path to take, Trey would walk it.
"Man, you can't...." He stopped and tried a different tack. "They'll find you eventually, you know."
"You think?" Trey grinned. "You think the police got nothing better to do than track me down? I stole a car for chrissakes, Ryan, I didn't kill somebody or knock over a store. I'm not even a blip on the radar, bud."
Ryan fell silent. He'd learned long ago and the hard, fist-in-the-gut way that arguing with his brother was futile. Trey would do whatever he wanted, regardless of sense or morality or whoever he might hurt.
"Well ... good luck," he finally muttered.
"I could use a little travel money, though," Trey forged on. "I mean, forty bucks, that's good and all, but I'm gonna need mucho mas dinero to live on for a while in Mexico."
"But forty is all I've got," Ryan replied firmly, an uneasy suspicion beginning to tickle the back of his brain.
Trey looked around the kitchen, then turned in his seat and scanned the rest of the house.
"This is a big place," he commented blandly. "There's gotta be a couple of things that wouldn't be missed...."
"No!" Ryan cut him off. He pushed away from the counter and took a step forward, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He removed some bills and cast them on the table. "This is what I have. This is what you get."
Trey looked at the money and shook his head. "That's not gonna cut it." He stood up from the chair. "Come on, Ry, I'm in deep shit here. With my priors I could get locked up for a long time." He turned entreating eyes on Ryan. "I'm not asking you to do anything that could fuck you up. Just show me the code for the security and I'll come back another day - you don't even have to know which one. You'll be able to say you don't know anything about it."
Ryan, shaking his head, moved toward him. "Not gonna happen." He drew himself up, trying to look taller and maybe a little menacing. "You're leaving now."
Trey nodded, "Yeah. I had a feeling you'd say that." Lightning quick his hand flew out and punched Ryan in the jaw, rocking him back on his feet. Not giving him time to recover, Trey grabbed and swung him around, pinning him against the counter, drawing Ryan's right arm painfully up his back.
"So I got a back up plan," he hissed in his ear. "Sorry." He drove Ryan's forehead into the counter with a sharp crack.
Ryan only had time to think, "Oh fuck," before he passed out.
*************
"Oh god! Sandy, call 911," Ryan heard a frantic, high-pitched voice mingled with the ringing in his head. He groaned and tried to turn over but it made the room spin even faster so he stopped.
"He's alive," a deeper voice was saying somewhere off to his left. Something warm wrapped around his wrist. ".a pulse."
His head was splitting. Ryan had no doubt that in about a second it would crack wide open and one of the toothy spawn of Alien would burst out.
".on their way . so much blood ."
"Sshh," the deep voice soothed and added something about needing a towel. All Ryan could think was that someone had dripped pool water all over the kitchen floor again - probably Seth - he was careless like that.
He drifted off for a time, still vaguely aware of the jabbering voices, which seemed to have turned into a whole crowd of people. Then there were hands moving him and an insistent voice trying to get his attention.
"What's his name? Ryan?"
He wished everyone would be quiet so he could go back to sleep.
"Ryan. Can you hear me?"
"Shutup," he mumbled.
"Yeah. He's conscious."
"Blood pressure's.."
They were lifting him now and laying him on something very like his cheap futon at home, only they were strapping him to it and he didn't like that. His eyes flickered open for a moment. He had to see what was going on. A couple of strangers loomed over him, but right behind them was Sandy's worried face. He wanted to laugh. Seth was right, the brows really did look like caterpillars.
"Hey," Sandy said, giving him a reassuring smile. Ryan tried to smile back and managed a kind of grimace.
"Let me ride in the ambulance with him," he heard Kristen, out of his line of sight, insisting. "He's going to be disoriented if he regains consciousness. He needs a familiar face."
"Honey," Sandy voice drew her over. "He's awake."
Then there was Kristen, face blotchy, eyes puffy, flustering over him with motherly concern. She seized his hand and held it while the paramedics lifted and transported him to the ambulance.
"You're all right now. Everything's all right," she crooned in a repetitive mantra.
Then the cylinders started clicking in Ryan's head, he remembered what had led up to him lying unconscious on the kitchen floor, and he knew that it really wasn't going to be all right. Not at all.
******** "I told you, I got up from my chair to get . something else to eat. Thought I heard something behind me but before I could turn whoever it was grabbed me and shoved my face into the counter." Ryan repeated the story for the third time, working to maintain eye contact with the cop.
"And you didn't hear anything prior to that? No noises from the other room or."
"No. I guess I was still thinking about my homework," Ryan extemporized. "If there were any sounds, I didn't hear 'em."
The cop looked down at his notes then back to Ryan's face. He nodded slowly. "All right then." He stood up and reached out to shake his hand. "Uh, I may have further questions later, but I guess we're done for now." He gave Ryan's hand a firm squeeze.
The cop shook hands with both the Cohens as well. Ryan watched him out the door then turned to Sandy.
"Can we go now?"
"They're keeping you overnight. You had a concussion and they want to make sure.."
"No. Please," Ryan begged. "I just . I need to go.." He couldn't say home. It wasn't his home after all. He had only deluded himself into thinking it was for a while. "I'm okay. Really," he continued.
"I'll see what I can do," Kirsten answered quietly, leaving the room.
Sandy was actually quiet as they waited, so Ryan knew something was up. Finally he spoke.
"Ryan, if there's anything else you want to tell me about what happened, it won't go any farther than this room."
Ryan stonewalled. He couldn't bring himself to lie and say everything had been exactly as he'd told the cop, so he didn't say anything at all.
Sandy waited a little bit then continued. "You know, everything that was taken can be replaced. Nothing that really mattered to us was stolen. But you ... You could have been really hurt, maybe even...."
He paused, took a breath and went on. "Anyway, whoever did this to you ... doesn't deserve to be protected." He fixed Ryan with a steady stare that burned like hot coals. "You know that," he affirmed.
Ryan swallowed dryly and gave a little shrug.
"All right then," Sandy swept on, breaking his gaze. "I'm sure you'll let me know if you remember anything later." He patted Ryan on the shoulder. "Just get some rest now and we'll bust you outta here soon. Kirsten never takes 'no' for an answer."
To be continued....