Disclaimer: McG and Josh Schwartz own the O.C., I just wish I did.
Summary: Seth sails away, wondering if anyone really cared about his life. What happens when he wishes to never have been born?
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, as always. You're all the best, really! Sorry about the lack of updates…family birthdays prevented me from writing, but I'm back. So expect a bunch of updates and new stories in the next few days, because I've only got finals this week, so I don't have to be in school the whole day. Oh also, thank you to the person who pointed out that the angel said a few curse words in the last chapter. I've fixed that! It was very careless of me, so thanks for pointing it out—and nicely too! Bear with me for I've never been to Harlem, only heard the stories. I don't know whether there is a DA's office there, or what it would look like. Heck, I don't know if my portrayal of the people who live there is accurate. Sorry if any of it is highly unbelievable. Hope you enjoy this long chapter, I had to write it a few times before it was to my satisfaction.
Seth tightly gripped the sides of the motorcycle car. They were speeding down the 101, or was it another highway? He couldn't be sure, as they were going incredibly fast.
"Why are we going so fast?" Seth wheezed, the air whipping his hair around and scratching at his tender skin.
"We're almost there," the angel promised. Seth squinted and whimpered, his eyes were extremely dry from the excessive amount of air pummeling his body. Had they been traveling for a long time? Seth couldn't tell, he seemed to have lost his sense of time in this alternate universe.
The angel pulled to a stop in a dingy looking parking lot. Grass was growing in random spots along the gravel lot, and a few weathered cars that looked like they'd seen better days were parked. Seth noticed sky and skyscrapers.
"Where are we?" he asked, looking down, and seeing an ant-sized road bustling with cars and people about ten stories below him. "Um, I'm not scared of heights like Ryan, but I don't like this."
"Rooftop parking lot of the DA's office," the guardian angel explained.
"In…Newport?" Seth asked, knowing full well that his father's old workplace did not look anything like this.
"No, Harlem."
"And my dad works here?" Seth asked dubiously. He knew Sandy was a do-gooder, but Harlem?
"Seth, don't be alarmed." The angel took Seth's hand. "Be brave. It'll all be over soon."
Seth scoffed. Sure, it was easy for the angel to say don't be alarmed. It wasn't the one seeing how life would be without its presence…
And he didn't know how long soon was in the angel's opinion, but Seth had a feeling it wouldn't come quickly enough.
They walked through a door on the roof and into the stairwell. After walking down three flights of graffiti ridden concrete steps, the angel opened a gray door which was peeling and desperately in need of a fresh coat of paint.
Seth found himself in a shabby hallway with dull beige linoleum tiles. As he followed the angel down the hall, Seth found his foot stuck to the floor. He yanked his leg up, and with it a piece of freshly chewed gum. Gross, Seth thought, If only mom could see this…He had to stop thinking about his mom. Otherwise it would just be too hard.
Stopping before a door that read District Attorney's Office, Seth clung tightly to the angel's hand…was it a hand though? With his sense of time, Seth had lost all ability to perceive what was real and what wasn't. For all he knew, he was living within a dream—a nightmare, actually.
"Are you ready?" the angel asked, turning the tarnished metal doorknob. Seth noticed a buzzer and speaker on the wall next to the door.
He nodded, half shrugged. "Don't we need to buzz in? And how are we going to pull that off? We're supposed to be invisible to everyone."
"Seth, Seth, Seth," the angel laughed God's laugh, only it was not as powerful as the one from before. "Haven't you learned anything? I'm an angel…the impossible is possible. How else do you think you're seeing your loved ones' lives unfold as if you weren't a part of them?"
Seth shrugged helplessly. "Can we do this?" The angel gave him a disapproving look as it opened the door to the drab office. There was a receptionist's desk with piles and piles of folders and paperwork, and the phone was ringing off the hook. But there was no receptionist.
A man with slightly graying hair and out of control eyebrows came barreling into the front office.
"That's funny," he said, walking over towards the phone. "I could've sworn I heard the door open…but no one buzzed."
Seth smiled. "It's me, dad," he said, even though Sandy couldn't hear him. Hopefully he would be able to feel Seth, even though he wasn't able to see him. Sandy picked up the phone and began to talk. Seth tuned his conversation out, interested in taking in as much of his father as humanly possible.
Sandy had traded Paul Smith and Versace suits for an old, worn navy blue suit and a plain royal blue tie. Seth shook his head…if only Kirsten could see Sandy now. His dress shirt was black, contrasting severely with his suit and tie. His dress shoes were scuffed and looked like they were a few years old.
Seth tried to rid his mind of Kirsten, but to no avail. Sighing, he turned his attention to Sandy.
"Give me twenty minutes and I'll be at the station," Sandy was promising to someone on the other line. He slammed the phone down and ran back into another part of the unkempt office. Seth tapped his foot anxiously.
"Was that it?" he asked hopefully.
The angel laughed again, piercing Seth's ears. "This isn't the half of it."
Great, Seth thought, And I thought I was getting off easy.
Sandy reappeared in the main office, keys and cell phone in hand. He brushed passed Seth, stopping dead in his tracks and turning around. His alert eyes searched the room for something…though he wasn't sure what. Sandy thought he might be hallucinating…but hadn't he just felt something brush past him?
"Stay still," the angel ordered. Seth held his breath and focused on a plaque that hung on the wall. He'd learned in ballet class—okay, so it wasn't Seth's fault that Kirsten forced him to go when he was four—to spot something so you could keep your balance.
Sandy stood stock-still for another moment, then shook his head and left the office.
"Seth." The angel seemed somewhat concerned. "Something weird is going on. They can all feel. I mean, at first I thought Ryan could feel because you touched him…but Sandy, you didn't even touch him, he barely brushed by you."
"So this doesn't usually happen?" Seth asked. Should he be worried? Seth didn't see a reason to be concerned, so he decided to let the angel handle that.
The angel shook its head. "I'm not sure if this is all part of the plan…" he mused. Then, "Come on, we've got to follow Sandy."
They ran out of the office, pounded up a few flights of the concrete stairs, and out onto the rooftop parking lot, where Sandy was starting the engine of his blue '92 Camaro and preparing to head on the exit ramp down to street level.
Seth hopped in the basket of the motorcycle; it was routine to him by now. He could only imagine the jokes Sandy would make—and Ryan would try to make—if they saw him in the basket, an angel driving the motorcycle. Too bad they couldn't. In a way though, it was good, because Seth would have a lot of explaining to do if he showed up like that.
They sped off, and Seth closed his eyes and held his breath, not wanting the smog-filled city air that got trapped between the buildings to permeate his insides. He'd heard that city smog, particularly New York City smog, was especially terrible.
Soon they arrived in front of a nondescript building with the words Harlem Juvenile Detention Center. The angel parked the motorcycle next to the building, and dropped a few coins into the parking meter that was on the street.
"Why are you doing that?" Seth asked, eyeing the angel curiously.
"Seth, part of being an angel is helping others." The angel gave Seth another weary smile.
They walked inside the detention center and saw Sandy disappear into a door marked Authorized Personnel Only. Quickening their pace, Seth and the angel pushed the door open and jogged down the dimly lit hallway. Well, Seth jogged, the angel seemed to float along.
Seth loved this feeling…of being a VIP. Well, technically, nobody knew he was there, so its not like he was getting the special treatment or anything. It was just the fact that he could bypass security detours and whatnot. Added to the fact was his new ability to travel across a country in…well, Seth wasn't sure how long it had taken, but he knew it was a very short period of time.
Soon they came to a large open room with battered wooden chairs and tables. A few kids sat scattered around the room, adults sitting across from them. Guards stood by, monitoring the visits. Seth spotted Sandy speaking with a tall, broad-shouldered woman guard holding a clipboard. She nodded and disappearing through another door. Sandy stood; hands clasped nervously behind his back, until another guard came through the same doors the woman had gone through, dragging a boy sharply by the arm.
Seth and the angel walked over the table where the boy sat down, seeing Sandy approach the damaged table. There were threats carved into the wood, threats which Seth chose to ignore, because if he read them he'd be scared out of his mind.
"How are you doing, Ryan?" Sandy asked the scruffy looking kid. He had shaggy blond hair and bore a striking resemblance to Ryan. Seth knew that this was no coincidence. Or was it?
The boy refused to meet Sandy's eyes and muttered a response. "Fine."
"They treating you okay here?"
Shrugging, "I guess." Ryan began to pick at his fingernails, which were yellowed and stubby, save his pinky nail. While yellowed, his pinky nail was long and rounded. Seth guessed this was the famous pinky those stoned kids sported, for keeping certain white substances…
"Ryan, this is the third time this year. And it's only April." Sandy sighed and continued. "Look at me, Ryan, do you really want to waste your life like this?"
The kid looked up for a minute, and then lowered his eyes again. "What's it to you?"
"I've seen too many kids out on the streets. They end up dead or in jail. Do you want that? Do you?" Sandy's anger flared, and Seth could honestly say he'd only seen his father this angry once or twice. And this kid wasn't even his own. Seth didn't know what his father saw in these kids. Obviously it was something special.
"Ryan? Don't you ignore me like that!" Sandy was yelling now. The kid stood up, pulled back his fist…
"Dad! Look out," Seth yelled, and for a split second he could've sworn Sandy turned his head in the direction Seth was standing. Which was ridiculous, of course, because Sandy couldn't hear him.
Ryan's fist connected with Sandy's jaw, and Sandy stood up indignantly, rubbing his jaw. A guard rushed forward, and another guard followed suit. They each grabbed Ryan by one arm and began to drag him off, hissing threats at the boy.
Sandy shook his head sadly. "Ryan…I'll be back tomorrow." He waved slightly to the seething boy, who was silent as the guards led him through the doors.
Seth had no idea how his father managed to remain so calm, even after Ryan had attacked him. For Pete's sake, how could Sandy even think about returning to visit with Ryan the next day? He was seriously dedicated to his job, in ways that Seth had never realized before.
He stopped to talk with the woman guard, who had returned with her clipboard. Sandy walked out the door and Seth and the angel followed him.
"Let's go," the angel said. "I think you've had enough."
Seth hurried to catch up with the angel, who had quickened its pace. "Wait…that's it? That's all I get with dad?"
Seth surprised the angel with his comment, but most of all he surprised himself. The other places he'd been, he'd been more than happy when the visit was over. But for some reason Seth wanted to see more of Sandy's life, because it was so vastly different than the life he lived as Seth's father and Kirsten's husband.
"I want a little more…please?"
Things were different, Seth had concluded. Of course, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. He still wasn't sure whether or not his close friends and family were better off without him.
"Well…" The angel considered Seth's plea. "Okay. But just a little. And when I say its time to go, you're going to have to let go."
"Fine." Quite frankly, Seth was happy that his wish had been granted. Hopefully he wouldn't regret it later.
They continued to follow Sandy out of the detention center and out onto the street. A young boy sat on the steps of a deserted looking apartment building. Seth presumed it to be a center for drug deals and illicit relationships, even though the detention center was across the street. The boy was wearing a white t-shirt that hung to his ankles, and some type of jeans that were falling off as well. Seth could tell he was scared, although his face was defiant and his arms were crossed menacingly. Well…menacingly enough for an eight year old. Seth noticed a purplish-blue ring surrounding one of the boy's eyes. Fighting at such a young age…Seth couldn't help but take pity on the kid.
"Seth? Are you coming?" The angel pulled up beside him, the engine of the motorcycle humming noisily. Seth obligingly got into the cart and away they went, tailgating Sandy's car, which was so beat up that it couldn't even be considered a vintage car. Seth saw Sandy's Beemer in the back of his mind. The Camaro was a big step-down for Sandy, not that this Sandy knew he'd ever owned a BMW.
Sandy parked on a side street and the angel followed suit. He began to walk with his briefcase hugged close to his body, unaware that he was being followed. Or so Seth thought…until Sandy began glancing behind himself every few minutes.
"Shh, stop here." The angel put its finger—a finger?—to Seth's lips and Seth stayed put. After Sandy turned the corner of the next block, the angel motioned that it was okay to continue. "I've never had to deal with this before. It's like…they've got some premonition, or something."
If the angel—Seth's guardian angel—was confused and worried, was that a bad sign?
Finally they turned the corner and saw Sandy entering an apartment building. It had no awning, and Seth felt it safe to assume that it had no doorman either. They walked in the building after Sandy had begun to ascend the wooden stairs, which had been poorly painted a pukish green color.
Sandy stopped at an equally vile green door that read 3C. He turned the key in the upper and lower locks and stepped inside. The angel took Seth's hand and whooshed them inside before Sandy could close the door and lock its three inside locks. In Newport, while Seth was, the Cohens had lived in a gated community with a front door that boasted just one lock. And, as Ryan had showed Seth, it was a door easily opened with a credit card. Some security system the wealthy and elite had.
Seth looked around the apartment once they'd gained access. There was no front hall; the door opened up into a small living room with a table and two folding chairs. A tattered black couch was pushed into a corner, and opposite it was a small television with some sort of homemade antenna. Magazines, newspapers, and plates littered the small room. Seth peered into a doorway and found the kitchen, which was just a tad smaller than the food pantry in the kitchen in his house in Newport. Or what was his house, before Seth had wished himself to cease to exist. A tiny sink was filled with plates, glasses, and eating utensils. Seth poked his head into another doorway, one that actually had a door but was wide open. Ahh, he had found Sandy's bedroom. A double bed with a cheap wire frame served as Sandy's bed, and plain white sheets were spread across the mattress. Seth was almost positive that Kirsten's designer sheets cost more than all of the furniture in Sandy's new room put together. Two dressers stood on either side of the small window, which provided an absolutely lovely view of a trashed baseball field. Well, Seth assumed it had once been a baseball field, but by now most of the grass had been trampled and the bases had long been missing.
"This…" Seth searched for the right word. "Sucks. Majorly."
"It does," the angel agreed. "Although 'sucks' probably isn't the word I would use."
The bedroom floor was littered with dirty socks and shirts. Seth walked into the bathroom, ahem, what was considered to be a bathroom. It had a tiny, water stained shower that didn't look like Sandy could fit comfortably in it, and a toilet and sink crammed next to each other.
"So this is what it's like without me, huh?" Seth asked, and the angel kept silent. Was this part of the plan his guardian angel had mentioned earlier? Him realizing that LWS—life without Seth—wasn't all that it was cracked up to be?
"I think it's time to go." The angel patted Seth's back. As they exited the tiny apartment, Seth saw his father sit down on the worn couch and then get up to turn the TV on. So there was no remote for this TV. Gosh, his dad was really living the simple life.
"I'm sorry dad." A single tear slipped down Seth's face. This was his fault…all his fault.
"It's not your fault," the angel whispered. Sandy looked in the direction of the door as Seth and the angel left. Seth looked back, something he regretted doing almost instantly. In his father's eyes was a mixture of loneliness, hope, and pain. Seth wondered what had gone on between him and Kirsten, if anything.
Whatever had gone on between his former parents, obviously the Cohen charm hadn't worked in the usual way.
So Sandy was miserable. Kirsten seemed to be happy. Seth hadn't really spent enough time at the Cooper abode to make a proper assessment. He hadn't thought his parents were able to be happy without each other.
If one half of the parental units were happy, did that count enough?
Was Seth really the cause for his parents' happy marriage? Was he the one who had been responsible, if not directly, for bringing Ryan Atwood into the family?
Seth didn't want to see Summer. As the love of his life, Seth knew he'd be heartbroken to see Summer with any guy but himself. And he'd be almost as upset to see her, unchanged, still the same shallow bitch he'd successfully snagged and transformed into a sweet, caring girl.
So maybe he did have an effect on the lives of those around him? Who knew?