Kirsten - Ryan

-The Atwood Amongst The Cohens-

There are few things that are more frustrating than when you know you only have to get up early and you're unable to sleep. I swear Sandy started snoring the second his head hit the pillow - one of my husband's traits of which I will be forever jealous. I steal a glance at the clock on my nightstand - it's two in the morning and I am so unbelievably, wide awake that I am starting to wonder if I will experience the luxury of sleep at all tonight.

With a sigh, I roll out of bed and grab my housecoat, hastily tying the belt around my waist before I stride purposefully down the stairs and into the hallway.

I wander into the kitchen and start fumbling with pill bottles until I find a container of Gravol in the back. I used to give it to Seth before we boarded planes when he was little, and I can't remember a time when he didn't fall asleep. So, there's no reason to believe that it won't work for me. I grab two of the small tablets and toss them into my mouth, quickly chasing the pills with the water that I had previously obtained from the fridge.

I hear a rustling sound emerge from the living room, and I am mildly surprised that Ryan's still there; I thought for sure that Sandy would have woken him and encouraged him to go sleep in his bed. I walk to the edge of the counter until I have an unobstructed view of the unconscious teenager.

He looks so small and unprotected - like for the time being, he has abandoned all his doubts, fears and suspicions about the world, in favor of sleep. It takes years off his face and as I watch him in such a vulnerable state, it hits me, he's just a kid. A kid that's had reason to doubt everyone and everything, but a kid, nonetheless. I stop for a second, and suddenly, as if struck by an epiphany, a strong sense of knowing washes over me. I am sure of what to do, and it simply feels right. For the first time, I feel completely 'right' concerning Ryan.

Slowly, I walk into the family room area, the light from the kitchen dimly illuminates his face. I notice that Sandy must have covered Ryan with the blanket that's now snuggly tucked under his chin. I slow up beside him and crouch down, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't stir or recoil from my touch, but his eyelids flutter briefly before settling back into a comatose state.

I reach forward and gently brush his tousled hair off of his forehead, then let my fingers rest on his warm skin to determine whether or not he has a temperature.

**************

I feel something brush against my face, and my first reaction is, 'Oh God… Marissa'. But something feels different - not quite right. I lie still for a second, waiting - sorting through my disorientation. I don't know where I am, and that uncertainty sends a sudden wave of fear through my chest.

I know I'm not in my bed, it's far too lumpy. A couch?

The events of the day rush over me in a quick slide show of realization. I'm on the couch, in the Cohens' family room, but how long have I been here? What time is it? I don't remember lying down or covering myself with a blanket.

The touch that had awoken me settles on my forehead, warmth and comfort radiate through the fingers of the caregiver. Finally, focused and assured enough, I struggle to open my heavy eyelids. I blink several times until I come to focus on Kirsten, a tired, caring expression occupies her face and makes me feel oddly at ease - despite the circumstances.

She smiles kindly and continues to push my hair off my forehead, "Hey, Kiddo. How're you feeling?"

I blink again, trying to clear my sleep-filled head so I can obtain some sort of focus - the task proves to be more daunting than I had originally anticipated.

"What time is it?" my voice is hoarse and nearly unrecognizable to my own ears.

She smiles again, and strangely, I don't feel as uncomfortable as I usually do in these doting situations. I wrack my foggy brain to try and recall whether or not I had taken any pills that would induce such an unusual state of mind, but I come up empty.

"It's late… or early, I suppose. Two in the morning."

My eyes widen in surprise, I've been asleep for that long? They've been walking around me all evening while I took up there living space, sleeping on their couch? The thought adds that familiar element of uneasiness that had been absent up to this point.

She continues to smile in a manor that is somehow atypical - there's definitely something different about Kirsten tonight. I don't feel like she's grasping for words or actions that sound and appear foreign, she looks relaxed.

"You obviously needed it because anyone that can sleep through Seth's dinnertime banter, must be truly exhausted."

I can't help but smile along with her, realizing just how much that statement holds true.

"So, you want to lie on this couch all night, or are you going to go to bed?"

I swallow, trying to get a better grip on my voice, "Yeah, sorry…"

"Don't be sorry, we all need to sleep sometimes. I'm just surprised you were able to do it so successfully here in the lion's den."

She lets her hand rest on my shoulder, squeezing it gently, "Are you feeling alright, Ryan?"

I immediately nod and begin to sit up, my head aches in unison with my body. Sleeping on the couch did nothing for my back alignment.

"Really?" she asks again, pressing down on top of my shoulder, a subtle gesture that prevents me from rising any further.

"Um, yeah, I just… I don't know. I wasn't, but I'm fine now." I try to smile reassuringly, but she tilts her head to the side, glaring at me out of the corner of her eye - an indication that she doesn't completely believe what I have just said.

"I want you to know that if you aren't feeling well, I won't suffocate you like Seth so arrogantly claims I do to him when he's sick."

The twinkle in her eye conveys the true message of her comment, and I bite my lip to suppress the laugh that's threatening to spill.

I nod again, "Okay. I guess that I just… it was nothing really. I would tell you guys if there was anything wrong."

"As we would expect you to, but unfortunately, we can't read minds so you have to let us know if something's bothering you - and I don't mean only physically."

Her last comment sparks a slight pang of worry, but I can't pinpoint exactly why.

"I know that Sandy and I have been at each other's throats lately, and I don't really have an explanation for it. But," she pauses, moving her head to the left so that there is no way for me to avoid eye contact, "I want you to know that sometimes we just need to vent, and rightly or wrongly, we often take out our frustrations on each other."

I nod and shrug before she can continue, "Yeah, I know. No worries."

She ignores my assuring response and carries on, "I guess that we just don't think about how it would affect you and Seth. I know that if you two were constantly harassing each other, I would be concerned, and I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry if we've made you guys uncomfortable."

'Well, you have now,' I think to myself. The only good news is that she included Seth in that apology, meaning that she didn't say it solely for my behalf.

"Anyway," she says when I don't respond, "You should go to bed."

She removes her grip on my shoulder and presses her hands off her knees to stand, taking the throw that had been covering me and folding it neatly.

"Yeah," I sigh, also standing - stretching out my left arm which is tingling with numbness, then grabbing my shoes that I can't remember removing.

"G'night," I mumble, slightly dizzy from standing up too fast - a feeling which is quickly accompanied by the realization that I am still a little nauseous.

"Ryan?" Kirsten calls out as I reach for the door handle.

"Mmm?" I answer, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"I think that it would be best if you stayed home from school tomorrow. Even if it's just for my sake."

My initial reaction is to protest, insist that it would be best for all if I just went to school and stayed up on the workload. But she creatively asked me to do it for her, a request that I find hard to decline. That, combined with the grumbling uneasiness in my stomach, makes the decision easier than it would have been had the circumstances been different.

I bob my head up and down in agreement, and she smiles genuinely.

"Get some rest, you look horrible." And with that, she turns and walks out of the kitchen.

I mentally laugh at her insult. I don't think that Kirsten's ever talked to me like that before, yet somehow, it just feels right.

I am immediately swallowed by sleep when I crawl into my welcoming bed.

I've always felt like the Atwood amongst the Cohens, but for the first time since I have become a part of this Cohen clan, I have a slight feeling of belonging. I don't know how long it will last, if it lasts at all, but right now, I sort of feel like a member of the slightly unorthodox family. I have got to say that in spite of my aching head and cramping stomach, I feel better than I have in a long time.

****************

I try not to make too much noise as I climb the stairs. The cloak of emotional warmth from my interaction with Ryan provides me with that wonderful feeling of hope. One step at a time, he's slowly becoming our son. It started when we signed the legal papers that made him officially our responsibility, but the emotional aspects have taken - and will continue to take - much longer to develop.

Tonight, we've taken one step forward - come one step closer to being everything that we aspire to be, but can't seem to grasp. However, I recognize that tomorrow's another day. It's not going to happen overnight, and it's not all going to be positive. Tomorrow, we might take two steps back, but I know that no matter what happens, despite all the trials and doubt that can induce such an overwhelming sensation of hopelessness, we will never give up. We are all in this for the long haul, and I'm not going to stop trying until we get this thing right - until we become the family that we need to be.

I quietly click the bedroom door shut, only to realize that Sandy's wide awake, staring at me curiously.

"Everything alright?" he asks sleepily.

I toss my housecoat onto the bench at the foot of the bed and make my way under the covers.

Sandy turns to face me, his question still lingering precariously in the air.

I lean forward and place a soft kiss on his lips, "Everything's fine. Everything's going to be just fine."

The End*

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. I'm still finding my way in this forum and you guys have been incredibly supportive. I really appreciated it.

Joey

*This fic will be the back-story for my next endeavor, 'Two Steps Back', which I hope to start posting shortly. So technically, I guess it's not really 'the end'.