Josh is quite the genius, isn't he?
Note: The italicized part is a flashback. No, it's not a copy of the show word for word. I altered it slightly, because it's my story and...well, I couldn't find an exact transcript. Anyway, it wasn't intended to be a direct copy in case anyone was wondering. Oh, and The Ex will be updated tomorrow. Thanks for the great response to And He Fell In Love. You guys are way too supportive.
"Please Kirsten, let him stay. It's just for the night anyway." Sandy begged his wife, who was staring suspiciously over Sandy's shoulder.
"Did you turn the car off?" She asked, ignoring his question. "Because if you did, I wouldn't be surprised if that boy dri—"
"Kirsten." Sandy dangled the keys before her eyes. "Please."
"Fine. But one night, and one night only. And he'll stay in the pool house."
Sandy kissed her gently on the cheek and went back outside to retrieve his latest client from the car.
"You can stay."
Ryan didn't look up. He continued to play with the frayed hem of his white tank top, the shirt so affectionately referred to as a wife-beater, or so Seth told Sandy. "That's great," he said, clearly not excited.
He followed Sandy into the house, eyes greedily feasting on his fortunate surroundings. His lawyer—or rather, his lawyer's wife—had some serious money. "This is my son, Seth." The lanky, curly-haired boy was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, playing video games.
"Hey." The boy paused his game and turned to look at Ryan.
"Well, I'll leave you two alone." Sandy disappeared back into the kitchen.
"So, you want to play Grand Theft Auto…sorry, we don't have to, I mean…"
"It's fine. Whatever."
Seth grinned with the warmth of a friendship Ryan could feel spreading throughout his body. Seth told a joke that Ryan barely heard; all he knew was that an infectious laugh had stained his cold shield of indifference and it felt good to laugh.
Kirsten peered into the family room, where Seth and Ryan were laughing about something. Ryan sat down next to Seth and grabbed a game controller.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. "He's a misled boy, Kirsten, not an escaped convict."
Not yet, Kirsten thought to herself. There was some quality to Ryan that Kirsten didn't like. She didn't like it one bit. "I know." He was quite the good-looking teenager. Short sandy hair, a buff build, and he wasn't too short, either. His eyes were oddly blue, a piercing, intriguing blue that called to Kirsten.
Something about them was all too familiar…no, it was nothing, and as quickly as the notion had popped into Kirsten's head, it left.
"I hope you like takeout," she called to Ryan, turning to her husband with eyes that sparkled and shone merrily. She was happy, and didn't quite know why. After all, one of Sandy's 'troubled' clients was in the house and Kirsten sensed difficulty. A deep feeling rose up from her stomach and bubbled, gurgling, at the tip of her tongue. She hadn't felt this way in a long time…
Kirsten watches Theresa pull out of the driveway in that hideously old fashioned yellow convertible of hers. She waits until Ryan is out of sight before going back into the pool house. Even though Kirsten employs a housekeeper four days a week, she begins to strip the bed of its sheets, his sheets, the sheets Ryan had slept on for months, just shy of a year.
And then she sits down, as a pair of brilliant blue eyes dance in front of her. Tears in her own blue eyes, Kirsten clutches the sheets.
Ryan is her son.
She is sure of it, doesn't know how she didn't know it before. Those eyes are unmistakable; he has to be the one. And Dawn—sure, she looks older, a lot older than the last time Kirsten has seen her, but with the same bleached blonde hair, the same pouty lips.
Ryan is her son (her son!) Her firstborn son. The boy she'd never dreamed of seeing again, of holding again, she's just let him go after taking him in for almost a year.
And at first, she hadn't trusted him. Other than the obvious reason of him being a juvenile delinquent, Kirsten hadn't been able to pinpoint what it was about Ryan she despised and loved. Now she knows. He reminded her of herself, of Jimmy, of the past she'd tried to bury when she put him up for adoption.
Over the course of a few months, Kirsten has grown to love Ryan with a deep passion, one that stems from the innermost reaches of her heart. And before, she hadn't exactly been able to say why, other than the fact that Ryan was a sweet, good-natured kid who had done so much for her other son, Seth. Now she knows. It is because he is truly her own.
Kirsten doesn't know when she started to consider Ryan as her own. But he was hers long before she trusted him, long before she knew of his life, of what had happened after that first day in the delivery room.
Ryan is her son! And she's just let him out of her life. Just like that. Kirsten hasn't even had a proper goodbye, hasn't had the chance to tell him she loves him like a son, because he is her son. Because she didn't know, didn't know of the reason behind her love, until Ryan had left.
She has to go after him, has to tell him. Maybe then he'll feel like part of the family. Their family.
My God. Sandy. And Seth. And Marissa—ew, Marissa. Ryan had hooked up with her, Kirsten knows that much. She only hopes they hadn't…well, done it.
Incest, anyone?
Ryan had dated his half-sister.
His half-sister.
It wasn't his fault, though, not in any way, shape, or form.
He hadn't known. Kirsten hadn't known. Marissa hadn't known. And Jimmy certainly hadn't known.
Oh my. This is all too much for Kirsten to process right now.
She has to tell Sandy. And Ryan. But Sandy first. He'll probably be angry, furious even, that Kirsten didn't tell him. But he'll also be jubilant, exuberant that Ryan is Kirsten's own.
She makes her way back into the house and up the stairs and knocks softly on her closed bedroom door. "Sandy?"
"We need to talk." Kirsten enters the room and sees Sandy crying at the foot of the bed. He wearily lifts his head, and Kirsten feels disheartened. Even his two lively eyebrows are lackluster, not quirking about in their usual manner.
"Sit down."
Kirsten sits down next to Sandy and takes his hand in her lap. "Sandy…I don't know any better way to say this…"
"Go ahead…" Sandy patiently waits for Kirsten to breathe, as her chest has tightened and her lungs feel small, too small to handle all of the emotions running through her veins right now.
"Ryan's my son," Kirsten blurts out, and collapses in a heap of tears and relief. She's told Sandy. It is okay, for now. Obstacle number one is no longer an obstacle.
"Hon, I know you're upset that he's gone, but Ryan's not a child any more. I want to adopt him as much as you do, though." He doesn't understand. Kirsten can't believe it. Sandy really doesn't get it. God, this is so much harder than it should be. She's Ryan's mother, god damn it!
"That's not what I mean, Sandy." Kirsten sniffs. Perplexed, Sandy motions for her to continue. "I mean…Ryan's my biological son."
"Your…biological…son…" Sandy says slowly, as if unable to believe what his ears have just transferred to his brain. "Ryan…how…when…?"