Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the OC or it's characters.
AN: I guess its about time for another story from me. All my other fics are still in progress. I don't know why I let this plot bunny bite me, but oh well. Hopefully it'll interest someone. Review if you like it and I'll try and post the rest.
Ryan hasn't told the Cohens about his mother or his visits to her. She calls a few times a week and sometimes convinces him to visit her in her new house in Chino. She doesn't always ask for money.
Once, AJ's car was there and he knocked on the door and no one answered. He knocked again and she opened the door. She forgot to take the belt off her arm so he turned to leave. AJ convinced him to stay with a few choice words and well-placed punches. He couldn't go swimming with Seth and the girls that week.
Tonight, he doesn't really know what's happening. Seth was angry with him earlier because he hadn't returned a comic book. He was pouting in his room and Marissa was gone somewhere with Summer. So when his mother called, he was homesick for just a second and now he finds himself here. With her.
"Ryan…" Her voice is steady and not slurred yet, but she's drinking vodka over ice. "I talked to your father yesterday."
Ryan doesn't respond but he knows what's coming. He thought he was too old for lessons.
"He thinks you're getting soft. Are you getting soft?"
"No," Ryan states evenly.
"He told me to test you. Are you too soft for the test?" Dawn asks, lighting a cigarette.
"No. Why are you doing this?" Ryan asks quietly.
"Because your father loves you and he doesn't want you to be a little fucking pussy…" Dawn snaps. "Here." She tosses him the pack of cigarettes.
Ryan doesn't speak. He lights a cigarette and takes off his outer shirt. He sits there in his white t-shirt and jeans and inhales deeply from the cigarette.
"Pussy," She repeats. Ryan lays his arm on the table, palm up. She meets his gaze with her identical blue eyes. He doesn't flinch as her cigarette burns a hole in his flesh.
"Are you soft?" She asks. He doesn't speak as she methodically marks him with her cigarette. Once. Twice. Again.
"Fuck you," Ryan whispers. She slaps him hard across the face.
"Don't talk to me that way, punkass. I'm your mother." She inhales deeply from her cigarette. "Other arm."
He places his other arm on the table.
"Your turn," She says.
Ryan hates his mother sometimes. He takes a long drag off his cigarette and then places it against his skin.
"You know I'm not doing this to hurt you, baby, I just want you to be strong…" Dawn says, attempting sincerity.
He holds the burning cherry against his wrist and looks at his mother coldly. "Fuck you."
She slaps him again and he spits blood on the floor, standing up.
"Sit down. Finish the test and you can go," Dawn says, not looking at him.
"Why?"
"Because."
Ryan doesn't know why but he sits back down. He closes his eyes this time. He doesn't react to the burns and finally they stop. He hears the bottle slam against the table.
"Okay. Have a drink with me, baby." She's slurring now.
"I should go," Ryan mutters, putting his shirt on.
"Have a drink. It's a present from AJ. It's all yours. Trey says it's your favorite." Dawn points to a pint of whiskey beside him.
"I should go."
"Dammit, boy, I'm your mother!" Dawn snaps. He winces. He opens the bottle and drinks several swallows.
"That's more like it. If it's one thing your father and I do well, it's drinking…" She smiles.
Ryan looks at her in disgust and finishes half the bottle.
"So you're doing good?" Dawn asks.
Ryan regards her coldly, the alcohol hot in his stomach. "Fuck you."
True to form, she slaps him again. Ryan smiles. He finishes the bottle and breaks it on the floor. She gasps.
"Night, Mom." He grabs his backpack and walks out of the house.
Sandy had let him borrow the Mercedes and it is actually intact when he gets into the driver's seat. He sits there for a moment and looks at his abused arms. Seven circles on one arm and nine on the other. Hurt. Reminds him that he's strong. Not soft. Ryan starts the car and drives back to the Cohens. He parks the car and starts to head for the pool house but remembers that he has to return Sandy's keys.
Seth is absent and he nods to Kirsten in the den as he passes through. Sandy is in the kitchen drinking juice.
"Thanks…" Ryan tosses the keys on the counter, staying a safe distance.
"Hey. Where've you been?" Sandy asks.
"Just went out," Ryan shrugs, walking toward the door. He hesitates by the door. "Can I talk to you a second?"
Sandy nods and follows him on the porch. "What's on your mind? Why's your face so red?"
The alcohol hits him and he loses his courage. "Never mind. I should go to bed…"
"Have you been drinking?" Sandy is closer than Ryan intended. Sandy puts a hand on Ryan's arm and he flinches.
"What? No…" Ryan takes a step back and puts his arms low so Sandy can't investigate.
"Ryan, something's on your mind…"
"It's okay. I should go," Ryan says, turning. Sandy startles him by grasping his wrist and pulling it into the lights.
"Ryan…" Sandy gasps.
"It's nothing…" Ryan replies.
"How'd this happen? Where did you go tonight?" Sandy demands loudly.
Ryan shuts down. His eyes go cold and his face is expressionless.
Sandy realizes that Ryan isn't responding. He softens his voice. "What did you want to talk to me about, Ryan? Was it about this?"
"No. This is nothing. There is nothing wrong with me." Ryan doesn't lower his gaze. "I wanted to know…if you could take the phone out of the pool house. I don't need a phone."
"Why, Ryan?" Sandy asks slowly.
"Maybe I don't like people being able to call me," Ryan replies. "Now I'm going to bed."
"Ryan. I want to know where you went tonight," Sandy says calmly. "Come in the house."
"I'm drunk. I'm going to bed. I don't have anywhere to go so I'm not going to run." Ryan walks away and goes into the pool house. The door is open.
Seth is sitting on the couch. He looks at Ryan, a strange expression on his face. Concern.
"What? You have something to say to me?" Ryan asks, walking past him and flipping the lights off. The room is dimly lit by the television.
"Your mom called."
Ryan pauses. "Did you talk to her?"
"No. Mom bought you an answering machine. I heard her leave a message. Three?" Seth says, his voice quiet.
"I'm going to bed…"
"Are you soft?" Seth asks quietly.
Ryan slams his fist into the wall and freezes, letting the pain bring him strength.
"Ryan…"
"Don't you ever say that to me. I don't care what you heard…you don't understand…fuck…" Ryan staggers to the bathroom and slams the door, sinking against the wall.
Sandy is standing on the patio when Seth walks out. He pauses beside his father.
"Did you know that Ryan visits his mother?" Seth asks.
"What? No…" Sandy is disbelieving.
"Me either. But she's a fucking bitch. And somebody should tell him that," Seth nods.
"Seth, why would you say that?"
"Because I heard the messages she left for him on the answering machine. I don't know what the fuck she was talking about but she's wrong about Ryan and she's a fucking bitch."
They both hear a sound from the pool house. Seth left the door open. They both step back toward the open door.
Seth recognizes the beep of the new answering machine. "Ryan, you little fucking bastard, I knew you couldn't take it, you're such a little fucking punk, like a little pussy…" Glass shatters on the tape. Sandy steps inside the pool house and spots Ryan sitting in the floor beside the answering machine. He doesn't see them because his face is in his hands. "I'm going to tell your father about this and you know how disappointed he's going to be that you couldn't even take it…you're soft…" The tape cuts her off. "Next message…You're fucking soft…fucking ungrateful little punk, after all I taught you, after all I did for you, this is how you repay me, you walk out on me just like your father, you abandon me…"
Sandy stops the tape. "Let me see."
Ryan doesn't react as Seth turns on the lights and Sandy takes his wrists to examine the burns.
"Seth, go get your mother. Tell her to get my briefcase," Sandy says quietly. Seth obeys. Sandy sits down across from Ryan.
"How long?"
Ryan stares at him.
"How long has she been calling you?"
Ryan looks at the floor.
Kirsten enters with Sandy's briefcase. "What's going on?"
Sandy nods to Ryan, giving her a serious look.
"Are you all right?" She looks at his arm when Sandy pulls it away from him. "Oh, baby, what happened?"
"Nothing."
"Ryan's mother has been calling," Sandy states quietly.
The phone rings. Ryan doesn't react. Sandy reaches for it but Ryan stops him with a slight shake of his head. Ryan picks up the phone.
"Yeah?"
"Ryan. What are you doing?"
"Nothing."
"Crying? Are you crying 'cause your mama hurt you?"
"Fuck you…" Ryan replies, ignoring Sandy's startled expression.
"Fuck you." She softens her tone. "Is that all you have to say?"
Ryan closes his eyes.
"I'm your mother. What do you have to say to your mother?"
"Thank you," Ryan replies, a hand over his face. Kirsten gasps.
"That's better."
"Are you done now?"
"I'll call you tomorrow. I love you."
Ryan hangs up.
"What did she say to you?" Sandy asks angrily.
"Nothing…" The alcohol is working now. He doesn't feel the pain any more.
"Ryan, did she hurt you?" Kirsten asks gently.
"Hurt me? No, she can't hurt me," Ryan replies coldly. He holds out his arms and regards them. "This is to prove that I'm strong. That I'm tough…I'm not soft…you pass the test and you get a free drink…not a bad deal…"
Kirsten is horrified. She turns away.
"Ryan…I'm getting a restraining order against her. We'll change this number…"
"She's my mom," Ryan says suddenly. "I mean, she's like my only family."
"You can't be serious. She is burning you. She's abusing you…" Kirsten gasps.
"I'm not a victim, Mrs. Cohen…" Ryan protests.
"Ryan, you're a smart kid. You know this isn't normal…" Sandy says.
"Whatever…" Ryan mutters.
"You will not see her, Ryan. Do you understand? If you talk to her, I want you to tell me. Promise me. Promise me that you'll tell me," Sandy urges
Ryan doesn't respond.
"Ryan. I'm serious…"
"Okay. I promise. I'm sorry. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to see her…" Ryan says quietly.
"Nobody is allowed to hurt you like that…" Kirsten states.
"Doesn't hurt," Ryan mutters, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall