I do not own The O.C.
Thanks for the reviews.
A/N: I have lost my mind a little with the posting frenzy, but trust me, by next week, I'll be back to updating at snail's pace.
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Ryan got off the bus about ten stops early. He'd done a 7-6:30 shift and was as tired as fuck but he needed some time to himself. Time from his co-workers, time from the other bus riders, time from Theresa and her mother. Other than the family he'd come to care about, he really missed the solitude of the pool house. Growing up, he'd always shared a room with Trey and even after he moved out, he still couldn't enjoy it because his mother and her boyfriends were always on his case, making him run errands, giving orders, scolding him for whatever reason; just bugging the daylights out of him.
Theresa's family tried to give him some privacy but it was near impossible with him sleeping on the living room couch. Arturo's room had been converted into a storeroom with all sorts of junk that looked like it should be or had been thrown away. But for some reason, Eva thought it might "come in handy in the future." Ryan was waiting to see the future in which a chest of drawers with no drawers would be useful.
He reached into his backpack and pulled out the old navy baseball cap Theresa had given him a few years earlier. The sun still had at least two hours left in it and it was making sure everyone knew it. Eyes protected, Ryan started the long journey home.
After about fifteen minutes of thinking more about his aching muscles than anything else, he decided to take a short cut home. It wasn't like he was going to be walking through a thick, dark forest or anything; it just meant that instead of walking along the road, he'd have to walk behind people's houses and through a few yards.
A few minutes later, he was doing his best to not further agitate a barking rotweiler when he felt someone tap his shoulder. Before he could turn around completely, he felt a sharp blow hit his abdomen. Coughing and doubled over in pain, before he had time to guess which coward had sucker-punched him, he heard, "I guess the rumors are true, Ry. You're back."
Eddie. His former friend Eddie was the asshole. He stood up straight. Why did he have to catch him on the day his lunch had been one sickly looking ham sandwich? "Eddie, what do you want?"
Standing confidently, he replied, "What do you think, Ryan? You need to get the fuck out of here."
"What?"
"You're not welcome here anymore, Ryan. You forgot that loyalty means something over here. Get the fuck out!"
Ryan shook his head and bent down to pick up his backpack – he really didn't have time for bullshit. "Listen Eddie," he started to say, but when from the corner of his eye he saw a sudden movement, he ducked before his coiled fist could hit his chest.
Ryan stepped aside so he was now facing his attacker. "Listen, dude, I don't want to fight you."
"Yeah? What? You're soft now? You're a fucking pussy now? Is that what it is?" Eddie was jumping around like he thought he was Muhammed Ali.
Ryan put his hands up in surrender. "I'm not fighting you, okay?" Eddie moved closer but Ryan stood his ground – he had to put a stop to the nonsense. "It's not like the old days; I have no reason to fight you."
"You don't?" he asked, accompanying the question with a slap across Ryan's face.
No, he didn't just slap me, Ryan thought. And almost like he could read his thoughts, he gave him another one just to make sure things were understood. Ryan's hand was caressing his right cheek when Eddie's palm forcefully went across his left one. He tasted blood.
"So whatcha gonna do?" he challenged, crooking his head. "What are you going to do?"
Ryan walked a few steps back and with all the energy he could manage, ran across and head-butted him. Eddie fell down flat. "I told you I didn't want to fight." But when he turned to leave, Eddie tripped him.
What the fuck was going on? He didn't want to fight the bastard, but he wouldn't listen. What the hell was his problem?
"You're an asshole, you know that?" Ryan offered as he slowly stood up to nurse the soon-to-be-swollen spot on his head.
"Fuck you!" he replied, also getting up.
He was fine till Eddie spat on him. He'd promised himself to have a peaceful summer, but the idiot had crossed the line. If anything, he should be mad at him. Granted, he'd slept with Theresa when his friend still wanted her but he wasn't the sewer-dwelling rodent who'd raised his hand to hit a woman. And not just any woman, but the woman he claimed to love. The woman that may have been carrying his own child. And he was trying to make him feel guilty? Fuck him.
Ryan charged across and before long, they were both rolling in the dust, throwing punches, trying to best one another. He could hear a small crowd forming but he couldn't care less.
Ryan seized his chance when Eddie hit the hard, graveled ground instead of his head. Before Eddie could recover from the pain, still lying on the ground, Ryan wrapped his arm around his neck and squeezed. Secure in the hold, Ryan slowly sat up, dragging Eddie with him.
"Listen to me carefully. I am here to stay. I live here now. Not you or anybody can chase me away. Do you understand that?" he growled into his ear. He ignored the scores of eyes on him and continued, "Theresa doesn't want to see you again so leave her alone. Stop calling." She'd never admitted it but Ryan was sure he still called her. "Just stop it and leave us alone. Do you understand me?"
"Fuck you!" he spluttered in half-breaths.
Ryan squeezed harder till he noticed the veins in Eddie's head bulge. He didn't want to do it but he had to make sure they were clear -they couldn't have a repeat of this evening. "Eddie, you're not--"
He was interrupted by a strange sensation on the side of his head. It was only after he saw the broken glass fall on Eddie's face did it start to throb. Before he could look up, another bottle broke on his head, forcing him to lose concentration. He released his grip and fell to the side.
Then the kicks came. All over his body – his abdomen, his back, his butt, his arms, everywhere. All he saw were feet and clouds of dust and when he tried to look up, the sun shone in his eyes.
Eddie asked the kickers to stop but they ignored him.
"Not his face – he's cute," he heard a female voice say. As if in response, he heard the distinct sound of palm to skin and a scream following it. But that didn't stop them from administering the blows. Ryan tried to figure out a way to escape but his head hurt too much. All he could do was think of how funny it was that the cops never showed up at the right time.
Eddie repeated his plea, this time in a much louder, authoritative voice.
"You shut the fuck up, you bitch! If we didn't come, he'd have killed you," a female voice said.
"Jenny, are you crazy? Stop that right now!"
"Why? He doesn't give a fuck about you. Look what he did to you and Theresa."
"I don't care. Stop it right now."
"You're a fucking cunt," she yelled but in a different voice, asked her gang to stop.
Ryan was still attempting to get up with someone moved up to him and shielded him from the sun for a few moments. He looked up and found himself looking into Jenny's cold, brown eyes. "I warned you to stay away, didn't I? Now do yourself a favor and get the fuck out of here."
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Ryan walked to the table and pressed a button. The women had doted on him when he finally returned. Eva had gone into a lecture about violence and even though she didn't say it, he could tell from the tears in her eyes that Theresa knew exactly who he'd run into. When they were finally convinced that he wasn't going to die, they told him about the message on the answering machine.
"Hey, Ryan," Seth's voice boomed out of the machine, "I was just calling to see how everything is going. That's all. Take care."
Ryan glanced at his watch: 9:42. It wasn't too late to call but he was far too tired to speak.
