"And who stabbed him?"
Seth swallowed and took a deep breath.
This was it.
He could easily say it was Ryan. No one would believe Ryan. He was from Chino. As far as anyone was concerned, Seth was the good one.
Not Ryan.
Three days ago, he would have said it was Ryan who did it.
Even today, if Ryan didn't look like he did right now, Seth would have said it was Ryan.
He felt so apalling for his thoughts on the matter that he decided then and there what he was going to do.
"Uh, I-- I did."
The cop looked him up and down, disbelieving.
"You just came in and stabbed him?"
Theresa jumped in to help him.
"It was self defense. I saw it, Seth saw it, Ryan saw it... Eddie would say it was self defense if he was awake..."
The cop frowned and nodded.
"Sir, could you please stand up?"
The words were kind enough, and the police officer didn't sound malicious.
Seth nodded and stood, his head still jerking up and down.
"No..."
Three paramedics were trying, and failing miserably, to get Ryan onto a stretcher.
The injured boy flung his arms around wildly, kicking whoever was within range.
Seth closed his eyes and turned to face the cop. He needed to do this.
"No... I did it!"
Seth's eyes opened at that.
The cop raised an eyebrow, making no move to handcuff him yet.
"Don't listen to him. He's a white knight. Takes the blame for anything. Everything, really."
Eyes narrowed, the police officer looked into the room.
The three medics were trying to find a way to get Ryan onto the stretcher without causing any more damage. Words like "sedative" and "strap" flew around, but no one did anything to follow through with them.
Seth took a step into the house, but a firm hand on his chest stopped him.
"Please let me help him. I can help him."
The hand wavered.
Seth knew they knew he wasn't a danger. Precautions were precautions, though.
Inside the room, Ryan writhed and pushed someone's hesitant hands away.
He flipped over and tried to crawl away, but ended up curling up again and moaning in pain.
Seth couldn't watch anymore.
His heart fluttered furiously as Ryan squirmed out of the paramedics' grasp.
This seemed all too familiar.
He had seen this sight twice before, from completely different perspectives.
When he was eight, the first time he got his ass kicked by the water polo players to be. He tried to run away, squirming and wriggling like a fish on a line.
All his work had been for nothing.
Well, not nothing. A black eye and a few bruised ribs, along with a split lip.
The second time he had seen a sight like the one in front of him was when he was ten.
His father bought him a bunny for his birthday.
Seth liked to think that his dad chased bunnies around the field until he caught the best one.
He was so scared that Mr. Floppy wouldn't like him. Nobody else liked him. And he hadn't.
Not at first, anyways. Sandy handed him the little black bunny, cold nose twitching, and it tried to run away, kicking, squirming. Just like Seth had the first time they hurt him.
Seth ran off and slammed his door shut, silent tears slipping out of his eyes. He was right. No one liked him.
With some advice from his father and a few calming words, Seth won Mr. Floppy over.
He supposed that tactic would work with Ryan.
The police officer pushed his sunglasses down, gave Seth a meaningful look, and moved to the side.
Seth was at Ryan's side in an instant, trying to get people out of his way.
"Hey buddy..."
Ryan visibly calmed down at the sound of his friends' voice, and the wary doctors inched closer to him.
Seth gripped his friends' hand tightly and sat down next to him.
"Listen, I know you're scared--"
Ryan looked at the looming medics and shook his head.
A small action that took much more effort than Seth liked.
"I'm not scared."
Seth nodded and smiled sadly.
Of course he would say that in front of these people. He wouldn't want these people to know.
Seth realized he was being stupid.
"I know. I'm sorry. I know that you don't want to do this, and I understand that you think nothing's going to work out, but it is. I promise you that it's going to be ok. And the sooner you calm down and let these people do their jobs, the sooner it'll be ok."
Ryan frowned, swallowed, nodded. Seth patted his hand and stood up.
"Wait."
Seth was half standing, half sitting.
Ryan's eyes were closed, and the doctors were already taking advantage of that to move closer.
"I'm sorry, Seth. I'm so sorry."
Seth didn't answer.
He didn't have an answer. What was done, was done. He would've done more if he could have, and if it hadn't of been for that damn pen knife, he would have kicked Eddie's ass and called the cops.
But he couldn't say that.
It wasn't even true.
If the pen knife in question wasn't there, he'd be next to Ryan right now, probably worse off than him.
"It's ok, Ryan. Don't worry about it."
And with that, he walked off, out of the room, turning back to see Ryan fully cooperating with the paramedics, whispering small sorry's to anyone he had hurt.
"Ok. I'm ready now."
He couldn't even bring his voice above a whisper.
He had never done anything illegal in his entire life. Or at least he didn't think so.
This was bad. This was really bad. He didn't think his dad would be able to bail him out. He didn't think he'd want to.
The handcuffs were cold against his skin. A slight shiver ran down his back, and he bit his bottom lip to keep away tears that wanted to spill.
He looked behind him quickly, only to see that Ryan had passed out again.
That was good.
At least he didn't have to see his friend suffer.
Ryan was on the stretcher now. Bags filled with things Seth didn't know hanging above him, a flutter of activity around him. He imagined that the same went for Eddie. No, wait.
Eddie had already been wheeled out. When Seth was talking to Ryan. He hadn't seen him.
Seth hated the hands pressing against his sides, searching for a weapon. That was silly.
The pen knife was still in the corner of the room, covered in blood.
Seth was shaking when they led him into the car. He felt sick. Dizzy. His head was throbbing, and he felt like throwing up.
He swallowed dryly, his lip quivering.
"Listen, kid. I'm sure everything'll work out. You've got at least one witness that says it was self defense, and apparently your dad's a lawyer."
Seth said a quiet thank you from the back of the police car as the other officer shoved his friend in the arm and told him to shut up.
Nobody was supposed to talk to monsters like him.
The ride to the police station was painfully silent. Seth wished Ryan was next to him so he could tell him all about his stupid, week-long "vacation" in the middle of the ocean.
That would mean that Ryan had to go to jail too, and that wouldn't be good at all, so Seth banished the thought.
Still, the empty space beside him made him feel alone again, just like he had been all his life. Before Ryan.
If he couldn't have Ryan to talk to, Seth thought the very least he deserved was Captain Oats.
Seth choked on a sob which had lodged itself in his throat. He wasn't an adult. Not even close to it. But now he felt like he had to be one. Because of what he had done.
All he really wanted to do was have his dad give him a big hug. Not like the ones he gave him that seemed forced because of the fact that Seth didn't like hugs anymore.
He wanted the hug his dad gave him when he was seven. When they called him 'Death Breath Seth' and laughed at him, and his so-called friends looked away. They left him all alone in the middle of the playground.
And then Seth had no friends.
He wanted his dad to hug him and never let go. He wanted to cry until he had more tears. Until he was innocent again.
The police officer gave him another piteous look, and he thought about how nice it would be if he could talk to anyone, even the nice police officer.
But that would get him and the police officer in trouble, and Moses knew he'd caused enough trouble for one day.
Hell, for a year. Or a lifetime. Maybe a few lifetimes.
He felt lightheaded, and he swallowed again in a futile attempt to feel better.
He looked forward again to see the kind police officer still looking at him. His pity now looked like concern.
Why?
Seth had no idea why. Maybe this guy was just messing with him.
A whisper to the other police officer, who looked at Seth in the rear-view mirror and frowned.
"It's probably just sweat, Tim. Don't get attached to this kid."
Sweat? Seth furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. What were they looking at?
"Just pull over, Steve. Let me take a look at it. Whatever it is, ok? Better to be safe than sorry."
What? Safe over what? Did they still think he was going to do something else?
The bothered police officer, Steve, was it? He pulled over with a groan and a roll of his eyes, and Tim got out of the car.
Seth's heart was getting out of control. His head was itchy, and he hated that he couldn't scratch it.
He felt vulnerable, angry, guilty. All at once.
Tim opened the door and knelt down next to Seth. He hadn't realized he was shaking. Steve stayed in his drivers' seat, obviously annoyed by his partner's interest in Seth.
"Do you mind if I check out your neck real quick, kid?"
Seth nodded and lifted his head. He still felt dizzy, and the officer slowly pulling the zipper of his blue jacket down made him nervous.
He hadn't even noticed that he had a cut in his jacket.
"Ouch. Do you have any napkins up there, Steve?"
Napkins? Seth watched as the skewed version of Steve nodded and half-heartedly handed Tim a wad of white McDonald's napkins.
Tim pressed it on Seth's neck. Seth gasped in pain. He didn't know that there was a cut on his throat, his neck. He thought the dizziness he felt was purely psychological.
"Now how did you get this?"
Tim pulled the napkins away. Red, floppy napkins that attracted Seth's attention.
When did that happen?
He didn't remember falling on anything.
The knife. The knife that had been so close to his neck. Now he knew why he felt so faint.
"That's a pretty bad cut. You know where you got it? When you got it?"
He had already asked that, had he not? How much time had passed since he asked the question?
"I guess... I guess Eddie..."
Tim frowned.
Now Seth could feel a little trickle of blood that percolated from his neck. He was overtly aware of it, seeping down drop by drop.
"There a medic available at the station?"
Seth wondered why there would be one.
He felt sleepy. He wanted this day to end. He wanted Ryan to be ok.
He prayed for Ryan to be ok.
He wanted to apologize for being such a prick. He wanted his mom to be back from her "spa weekend" that Sandy had arranged for her, needing his tough-as-nails wife back.
The whimpering mess that awaited him when he got back from his trip, accompanied by a Coast Guard, was not his mother.
Seth heard the door of the car close and he started.
"Everything... worry... called... father..."
Seth made a face and leaned his head on the window, the soft movement of the car taking him into an unsettling sleep.
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Melissa, I'm sorry. I didn't think you sounded bitchy at all. :)