THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE COHEN
By Allegra
(See Part One for disclaimers etc.)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry this part has been such a long time coming but I do want to say a massive thank you in skywriting (if I could afford it) to everyone who has reviewed. It's such a compliment and has gone a long way to keeping this fic off the dusty shelf in my brain! Also, a big thank you to Brandywine who was instrumental in me getting off my rear end and writing this particular chapter. I was really chuffed that I got a mention at TWoP amongst all you good people! Please let me know what you think & enjoy!
PART 3 : WAITING
Sandy had been thwarted at every turn. Eventually he had been forced to throw his weight around in a ridiculous display of male power to get his medical policy altered to accommodate Ryan. At first, he had been told by the very cheery but completely unhelpful assistant that his updated policy would be set in motion within a fortnight. Sandy had tried to keep his cool as he explained that this was an urgent matter and he couldn't wait that long. The girl had smiled vacuously and handed him a pile of forms to fill out, explaining that the small print would remind him of the policy terms.
Finally, Mr. Cohen had played out his lawyer routine, remembering all the usual embellishments. Seth, who had been listening in embarrassment all along, couldn't help but find lines from 'A Few Good Men' popping into his head. He had rarely seen his father so worked up and intense before, but it seemed to get results in the end. Eventually, the receptionist made a call to a senior and a deal was struck which would include Ryan on the policy with immediate effect.
"Way to go, Dad. I didn't know you had it in you," Seth said, proudly.
"Well, my inner schmuck only comes out when I'm really angry," Sandy smiled. He was relieved that his son wasn't horrified at the outburst but he also wasn't prepared to leave Ryan to whatever butchers and alcoholics the state had appropriated for their local juvenile centre. The kid deserved every chance the Cohens could give him. "Come on, let's call your mom and see how Ryan's doing."
Kirsten hadn't noticed how quickly the time had passed. The discomfort of the stiff, plastic seat had long faded in her mind as concern for Ryan overtook any other thought. At first, it was all she could do to look at the disfiguring bruises adorning his youthful face. Never in her wildest imagination had she thought the injuries would be this bad. The tube forced down his throat only served as a reminder of the brutal beating the teenager had received at the hands of those thugs. Injured so badly, he couldn't even be trusted to keep breathing on his own. It made her feel sick to think anyone could do this to another human being. Kirsten had rarely been so close to a victim of such torture. At first, she had been horrified but somehow distanced, as if she were watching a violent film. The more time she spent listening to the beeping monitors and rasping air pumping in and out of Ryan's lungs, the harder it was to dismiss the agony each laceration and bruise accompanied. Every inch of him was a patchwork of colour – purple, blue, yellow, red and every crimson colour in between. A work of butcher's art.
Then guilt set in. Sandy had already tried to deny it, Seth would laugh it off as ridiculous melodrama, but Kirsten knew she was the chief culprit responsible for Ryan's predicament. She wasn't going to mope and flagellate herself for not seeing it coming and not preventing it. It was too late for that and it served no purpose. The best Kirsten could hope for was that she could give Ryan all the support he needed and a safe place to go when it was all over. She might have hesitated once but she was damned if she'd let it happen again. He was coming home for good this time.
She gazed down on Ryan's still form, his green eyes closed in enforced slumber. Kirsten imagined them opening, the way he peered out at strangers from beneath a hooded brow. He was like a neglected puppy, afraid of what might come his way and who to trust, afraid of letting the need in him show.
A facility nurse entered quietly, anxious not to disturb Kirsten. She moved silently around the bed and checked the IVs then added some notes to the clipboard at the foot of Ryan's bed. She smiled at Kirsten, "Can I offer you a drink? Water? I'm afraid our coffee percolator is broken so water's about all we've got."
Kirsten returned the smile, fighting to find her manners in the face of such a crisis. "No, thank you. Has there been any word from my husband? He was going to arrange Ryan's transferral."
"No, I'm sorry." The middle aged woman adopted a pitying tone that sent shivers of irritation through Kirsten. It was the edge carers reserved for people whose loved ones were on the brink of death, people who had to come to terms with fatal illness or permanent disability. The Cohens were not going to be those people and they sure as hell didn't need sympathetic eyes rolling in their direction.
Pulling herself up stoically in her chair, Kirsten found her mind quickly wandering from the nurse back to Ryan. "How long had he been…like this…before he was found, I mean?" The nurse looked perturbed by this question, whether from a legal or moral point of view was unclear. Kirsten pushed harder, playing into the mourning parent routine expected of her. "Please, I need to know. I just want to know that he…"
"I'm afraid I don't have that kind of information, ma'am. I'm not fully aware of the centre rules and timings. I'm sure assistance would be almost immediate." She smiled her patronising smile once more before leaving the room. Kirsten nodded, knowing that couldn't be true. If assistance had come immediately, Ryan wouldn't have suffered more than another black eye or cut neck. This beating was thorough and carried out in its entirety. He was meant to be dead. Of that, Kirsten was quite sure. That sudden, shocking fact struck a chord in her and the tears welled in her eyes.
It was in this state that Sandy and Seth found her. "Sweetheart?" Sandy's strong hand rested on her shoulders. "We're going to have Ryan moved within the next hour. An ambulance will be dispatched soon."
"Thank God!" Kirsten exclaimed, wiping a stray tear as it wended its way down her cheek.
"Yeah. That kid's going to get the care he needs," Sandy affirmed, his gaze wandering to where Ryan lay amidst a tangle of wires and tubes. Kirsten looked up at her husband and pulled Seth closer to her. Most of the time, their son distanced himself from ugly public spectacles of affection but even he did not pull away from her hug.
Marissa Cooper was lying on her bed, almost asleep when she heard the news. As was becoming the norm this summer, she had spent the night partying and getting illegally drunk at a friend's party. She'd smoked some cigarettes and had a few puffs of weed. By the time she had stumbled home at 4am, Marissa was well and truly plastered, not to mention a little stoned. She knew her parents would be furious or at least angry enough to ground her. She still found it strange and somewhat ironic that they didn't consider her Orange County circle of friends to be a bad influence because they came from expensive houses and drove to school but Ryan, who had been a better influence on her than any of them, was shunned simply because he had the wrong zip code.
Right now though, Marissa was hardly capable of thought. She had barely moved a muscle since she had collapsed on the bed several hours ago. It was already mid-afternoon and she didn't feel any better. Her phone rang, its shrill tone piercing her skull and Marissa instinctively covered her head with a pillow. Still, the phone continued. Why wasn't anyone answering it? Did she have to do everything? Finally giving in, she extricated one hand from the bedclothes and dragged the receiver to her ear. "What?" she slurred.
Summer's voice answered, sounding much too awake for someone who hadn't had a much better night than Marissa. "Coop, I've got some bad news."
The juvenile centre in Orange County was the one establishment Marissa had hoped never to set foot in, yet here she was. Her parents had warned her about her drinking and soft drug habits a while ago when they had first discovered her party girl habits. They had given her a stiff lecture with plenty of warnings about police investigation and potential criminal records. Marissa had been suitably chastised for a month or two before temptation got the better of her. Never had she imagined she'd be in a place like this because of someone else. First Luke and now Ryan. Luke had been a shock but the misdemeanour was small and quickly erased. But Ryan…well, he was a whole different kettle of fish.
Their relationship was ambiguous to say the least and, even as she marched across the parking lot towards the imposing doors to the facility with her heart in her mouth, Marissa couldn't understand what she was feeling. Was it love? Or mere concern? Was her fascination with the boy from Chino simply to try him on for size? A welcome change from the preppy boys in high school?
She made it through security, having been thoroughly searched and questioned. It was degrading but it was the only way to get in to see Ryan. Marissa walked quickly down the echoing linoleum corridor, hearing the sound of her flat shoes resounding around her. Ridiculous images of mad inmates like some poor imitation of 'Twelve Monkeys' whirled in her head until she reached the hospital wing. Suddenly, her thoughts changed course to what she was going to say to Ryan. Was he going to be awake? The way they had parted was hardly conducive to small talk by a hospital bed. A large part of her was still mad at him for rejecting her and yet she was still here.
Rounding the corner, she found Sandy and Kirsten deep in conversation with a doctor. Sandy was gesticulating wildly and Kirsten had her arms folded in a classically defensive posture. Seth was sitting on a plastic chair by the wall, head in his hands. He looked up when he heard her footsteps. "Marissa? Hi…uh, what are you doing here?"
Marissa hugged her cold arms, shivering. "Summer told me about Ryan. Is he okay?"
"Not really," Seth replied, honestly. "He got beaten up pretty bad. My dad has been trying to get him moved. He's going to need surgery."
Marissa tried to hide her shock. She had never anticipated Ryan's condition would be that bad. "Can I see him?"
Seth shrugged, "I guess." He steered her towards the door and opened it. Marissa took one look at him and stepped back abruptly into the corridor. "Oh my God! Is he going to die?" she blurted out.
Sandy and Kirsten had finished wrangling with the doctor and approached the distraught Marissa. Both adults understood the overwhelming effect seeing someone so badly injured could have and tried to reassure her. Kirsten guided the teenager to a chair. "Listen, Marissa, Ryan's going to make it. We're doing everything we can to ensure he gets the best medical aid we can provide. Okay?"
"But it might not be enough," Marissa whispered.
Kirsten rubbed her arm reassuringly. "Come here." She pulled Marissa's slim frame close to her in a comforting hug. She didn't deny the girl's statement; she didn't want to make promises she couldn't keep. Suddenly the nurse sprung into action.
Seth burst out of Ryan's room to where his mother and friend were sitting, "Ryan's flatlined!"
END OF PART 3
Not exactly a comfort chapter, I know, but it's getting there. I just couldn't resist drawing out the angst a bit longer! There will be more (chapters I mean!).
By Allegra
(See Part One for disclaimers etc.)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry this part has been such a long time coming but I do want to say a massive thank you in skywriting (if I could afford it) to everyone who has reviewed. It's such a compliment and has gone a long way to keeping this fic off the dusty shelf in my brain! Also, a big thank you to Brandywine who was instrumental in me getting off my rear end and writing this particular chapter. I was really chuffed that I got a mention at TWoP amongst all you good people! Please let me know what you think & enjoy!
PART 3 : WAITING
Sandy had been thwarted at every turn. Eventually he had been forced to throw his weight around in a ridiculous display of male power to get his medical policy altered to accommodate Ryan. At first, he had been told by the very cheery but completely unhelpful assistant that his updated policy would be set in motion within a fortnight. Sandy had tried to keep his cool as he explained that this was an urgent matter and he couldn't wait that long. The girl had smiled vacuously and handed him a pile of forms to fill out, explaining that the small print would remind him of the policy terms.
Finally, Mr. Cohen had played out his lawyer routine, remembering all the usual embellishments. Seth, who had been listening in embarrassment all along, couldn't help but find lines from 'A Few Good Men' popping into his head. He had rarely seen his father so worked up and intense before, but it seemed to get results in the end. Eventually, the receptionist made a call to a senior and a deal was struck which would include Ryan on the policy with immediate effect.
"Way to go, Dad. I didn't know you had it in you," Seth said, proudly.
"Well, my inner schmuck only comes out when I'm really angry," Sandy smiled. He was relieved that his son wasn't horrified at the outburst but he also wasn't prepared to leave Ryan to whatever butchers and alcoholics the state had appropriated for their local juvenile centre. The kid deserved every chance the Cohens could give him. "Come on, let's call your mom and see how Ryan's doing."
Kirsten hadn't noticed how quickly the time had passed. The discomfort of the stiff, plastic seat had long faded in her mind as concern for Ryan overtook any other thought. At first, it was all she could do to look at the disfiguring bruises adorning his youthful face. Never in her wildest imagination had she thought the injuries would be this bad. The tube forced down his throat only served as a reminder of the brutal beating the teenager had received at the hands of those thugs. Injured so badly, he couldn't even be trusted to keep breathing on his own. It made her feel sick to think anyone could do this to another human being. Kirsten had rarely been so close to a victim of such torture. At first, she had been horrified but somehow distanced, as if she were watching a violent film. The more time she spent listening to the beeping monitors and rasping air pumping in and out of Ryan's lungs, the harder it was to dismiss the agony each laceration and bruise accompanied. Every inch of him was a patchwork of colour – purple, blue, yellow, red and every crimson colour in between. A work of butcher's art.
Then guilt set in. Sandy had already tried to deny it, Seth would laugh it off as ridiculous melodrama, but Kirsten knew she was the chief culprit responsible for Ryan's predicament. She wasn't going to mope and flagellate herself for not seeing it coming and not preventing it. It was too late for that and it served no purpose. The best Kirsten could hope for was that she could give Ryan all the support he needed and a safe place to go when it was all over. She might have hesitated once but she was damned if she'd let it happen again. He was coming home for good this time.
She gazed down on Ryan's still form, his green eyes closed in enforced slumber. Kirsten imagined them opening, the way he peered out at strangers from beneath a hooded brow. He was like a neglected puppy, afraid of what might come his way and who to trust, afraid of letting the need in him show.
A facility nurse entered quietly, anxious not to disturb Kirsten. She moved silently around the bed and checked the IVs then added some notes to the clipboard at the foot of Ryan's bed. She smiled at Kirsten, "Can I offer you a drink? Water? I'm afraid our coffee percolator is broken so water's about all we've got."
Kirsten returned the smile, fighting to find her manners in the face of such a crisis. "No, thank you. Has there been any word from my husband? He was going to arrange Ryan's transferral."
"No, I'm sorry." The middle aged woman adopted a pitying tone that sent shivers of irritation through Kirsten. It was the edge carers reserved for people whose loved ones were on the brink of death, people who had to come to terms with fatal illness or permanent disability. The Cohens were not going to be those people and they sure as hell didn't need sympathetic eyes rolling in their direction.
Pulling herself up stoically in her chair, Kirsten found her mind quickly wandering from the nurse back to Ryan. "How long had he been…like this…before he was found, I mean?" The nurse looked perturbed by this question, whether from a legal or moral point of view was unclear. Kirsten pushed harder, playing into the mourning parent routine expected of her. "Please, I need to know. I just want to know that he…"
"I'm afraid I don't have that kind of information, ma'am. I'm not fully aware of the centre rules and timings. I'm sure assistance would be almost immediate." She smiled her patronising smile once more before leaving the room. Kirsten nodded, knowing that couldn't be true. If assistance had come immediately, Ryan wouldn't have suffered more than another black eye or cut neck. This beating was thorough and carried out in its entirety. He was meant to be dead. Of that, Kirsten was quite sure. That sudden, shocking fact struck a chord in her and the tears welled in her eyes.
It was in this state that Sandy and Seth found her. "Sweetheart?" Sandy's strong hand rested on her shoulders. "We're going to have Ryan moved within the next hour. An ambulance will be dispatched soon."
"Thank God!" Kirsten exclaimed, wiping a stray tear as it wended its way down her cheek.
"Yeah. That kid's going to get the care he needs," Sandy affirmed, his gaze wandering to where Ryan lay amidst a tangle of wires and tubes. Kirsten looked up at her husband and pulled Seth closer to her. Most of the time, their son distanced himself from ugly public spectacles of affection but even he did not pull away from her hug.
Marissa Cooper was lying on her bed, almost asleep when she heard the news. As was becoming the norm this summer, she had spent the night partying and getting illegally drunk at a friend's party. She'd smoked some cigarettes and had a few puffs of weed. By the time she had stumbled home at 4am, Marissa was well and truly plastered, not to mention a little stoned. She knew her parents would be furious or at least angry enough to ground her. She still found it strange and somewhat ironic that they didn't consider her Orange County circle of friends to be a bad influence because they came from expensive houses and drove to school but Ryan, who had been a better influence on her than any of them, was shunned simply because he had the wrong zip code.
Right now though, Marissa was hardly capable of thought. She had barely moved a muscle since she had collapsed on the bed several hours ago. It was already mid-afternoon and she didn't feel any better. Her phone rang, its shrill tone piercing her skull and Marissa instinctively covered her head with a pillow. Still, the phone continued. Why wasn't anyone answering it? Did she have to do everything? Finally giving in, she extricated one hand from the bedclothes and dragged the receiver to her ear. "What?" she slurred.
Summer's voice answered, sounding much too awake for someone who hadn't had a much better night than Marissa. "Coop, I've got some bad news."
The juvenile centre in Orange County was the one establishment Marissa had hoped never to set foot in, yet here she was. Her parents had warned her about her drinking and soft drug habits a while ago when they had first discovered her party girl habits. They had given her a stiff lecture with plenty of warnings about police investigation and potential criminal records. Marissa had been suitably chastised for a month or two before temptation got the better of her. Never had she imagined she'd be in a place like this because of someone else. First Luke and now Ryan. Luke had been a shock but the misdemeanour was small and quickly erased. But Ryan…well, he was a whole different kettle of fish.
Their relationship was ambiguous to say the least and, even as she marched across the parking lot towards the imposing doors to the facility with her heart in her mouth, Marissa couldn't understand what she was feeling. Was it love? Or mere concern? Was her fascination with the boy from Chino simply to try him on for size? A welcome change from the preppy boys in high school?
She made it through security, having been thoroughly searched and questioned. It was degrading but it was the only way to get in to see Ryan. Marissa walked quickly down the echoing linoleum corridor, hearing the sound of her flat shoes resounding around her. Ridiculous images of mad inmates like some poor imitation of 'Twelve Monkeys' whirled in her head until she reached the hospital wing. Suddenly, her thoughts changed course to what she was going to say to Ryan. Was he going to be awake? The way they had parted was hardly conducive to small talk by a hospital bed. A large part of her was still mad at him for rejecting her and yet she was still here.
Rounding the corner, she found Sandy and Kirsten deep in conversation with a doctor. Sandy was gesticulating wildly and Kirsten had her arms folded in a classically defensive posture. Seth was sitting on a plastic chair by the wall, head in his hands. He looked up when he heard her footsteps. "Marissa? Hi…uh, what are you doing here?"
Marissa hugged her cold arms, shivering. "Summer told me about Ryan. Is he okay?"
"Not really," Seth replied, honestly. "He got beaten up pretty bad. My dad has been trying to get him moved. He's going to need surgery."
Marissa tried to hide her shock. She had never anticipated Ryan's condition would be that bad. "Can I see him?"
Seth shrugged, "I guess." He steered her towards the door and opened it. Marissa took one look at him and stepped back abruptly into the corridor. "Oh my God! Is he going to die?" she blurted out.
Sandy and Kirsten had finished wrangling with the doctor and approached the distraught Marissa. Both adults understood the overwhelming effect seeing someone so badly injured could have and tried to reassure her. Kirsten guided the teenager to a chair. "Listen, Marissa, Ryan's going to make it. We're doing everything we can to ensure he gets the best medical aid we can provide. Okay?"
"But it might not be enough," Marissa whispered.
Kirsten rubbed her arm reassuringly. "Come here." She pulled Marissa's slim frame close to her in a comforting hug. She didn't deny the girl's statement; she didn't want to make promises she couldn't keep. Suddenly the nurse sprung into action.
Seth burst out of Ryan's room to where his mother and friend were sitting, "Ryan's flatlined!"
END OF PART 3
Not exactly a comfort chapter, I know, but it's getting there. I just couldn't resist drawing out the angst a bit longer! There will be more (chapters I mean!).