THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE COHEN
By Allegra
Author's Note: A massive THANK YOU to everyone who has been reviewing & for the all the supportive & constructive comments. Thanks to Kailey for finally guilting me into sitting down & writing this regardless of what kind of mood I was in! Sorry to anonymous reviewer for not specifying whether it's het or slash. It's definitely het, but really there isn't going to be any kind of romance/sexual interaction at all. It's just a straightforward h/c fic.
I'm quite sure a lot of the medical events in here will be completely wrong but I'm hoping fellow angst readers will gloss over that fact! My God, ER has a lot to answer for!! I'm really sorry for the delay again. Now, onto the next chapter…
Part 5 : AWAKENING
Seth pushed a piece of browning lettuce around his plastic plate, disinterestedly. Over the past twenty-four hours, he had tried hard to find ways to amuse himself in the hospital. He had attempted to work out which department had the best looking nurses, guessed what was wrong with each of the visitors to the accident and emergency sections but none of these had kept his mind from returning to the real reason he was there. His best friend was lying, half dead, unaware that anyone was with him, thinking about him, worrying for him.
Seth partly resented the fact that his mother had taken the reins over Ryan's care, practically forcing the other family members aside. Simultaneously, Seth was discovering how bad he was at handling a crisis like this. Left alone to make medical decisions for someone he cared about and sit by their bedside, talking about normal daily activities as if nothing was wrong, seemed near impossible. He just prayed Ryan woke up soon.
Finally pushing the lettuce aside in a final admittance of defeat, Seth shoved his chair out and slumped back in the direction of his friend's room.
Marissa's parents had finally forced her to return home, much to her dismay. Kirsten was sitting with Ryan when Julie Cooper had turned up and instructed her daughter to get in the car. She had tried to be nice about it but it was evident that she Julie felt uncomfortable about the proximity of Marissa to this new boy in the neighbourhood. Even unconscious, apparently a boy from the wrong side of the tracks was cause for concern.
Kirsten had assured Marissa that they would call her if there was any change. If the truth be told, Kirsten was finding it hard enough to hold herself together, let alone have a second child to think about. She was equally as distraught as Marissa but was forced to hide her concern and play the supportive parent. If anything, it was a relief to be able to react however she wanted to.
Now, alone with Ryan, she tried to sort through what feelings she could still identify within the general numbness which had overcome her. Kirsten reached a hand out the teenager's, taking it gently in her own and feeling the weight of his lifeless fingers within her own vital ones. Her gaze traced the youthful face, taking in each line and contour, seeing beyond the bruises and red cuts. Behind the tough exterior was a mere child, a broken one who needed care and love.
Kirsten recalled the expression on Ryan's face the day that his mother had turned up at the Cohens' house. An entire spectrum of emotions had played across the usually unreadable face in that first moment. It was apprehension, maybe even fear, but hope hid in the darkness of Ryan's eyes, at the bottom of Pandora's box. At the time, Kirsten had barely registered what he must have been wondering. Her mind had been elsewhere, feeling the awkwardness of having someone from such a different background walking into her home. Did she think Kirsten was stuck up for having so much, that she had lured her son away with promises and bribery. That thought was followed by wondering if there was anything in the house to feed the woman with, make a decent dinner without calling the local Chinese joint.
Sure, Kirsten had experienced her own family problems, but it was near impossible to fathom the depth of Ryan's pain to be rejected by his mother only to have her return when he had something to offer her. Had she brought a new boyfriend with her? Someone with violence raging in their veins, a beaten boy inside a man's body, all ready to repeat the cycle of abuse with Ryan.
All this went through this mother's mind as she gazed lovingly on the teenager before her. So caught up was she with her own thoughts, that Kirsten did not at first register the minuscule twitch in Ryan's finger. The second one caught her attention. Kirsten stared at his face, looking for any other signs of life. "Ryan?" she whispered, barely allowing herself to believe that he was improving. The respirator tube was still down his throat because the doctors had fear another cardiac arrest. "Ryan?" she repeated, gently.
As if in response to her calming voice, the boy's eyelids fluttered momentarily and Kirsten rubbed his warming hand lightly, willing him to come back to the world of the living. "Ryan? Can you open your eyes?" The eyelids fluttered once more and opened a fraction, a sliver of grey iris showing. "Hey," Kirsten smiled broadly, relief washing over her. The eyes stared right at her, piercing her soul and bringing the guilt about leaving him at the juvenile centre roaring back into her mind.
The effort of simply opening his eyes was more than enough for Ryan and, before she had a chance to say anything more, those grey eyes had closed once more. "Ryan?" Kirsten asked, her voice betraying more concern this time. She chided herself inwardly for pushing him. He had been through so much trauma in such a short space of time. It should be expected that he would need plenty of rest, that he would not be sitting up watching television within days of surgery. Still, Kirsten refused to let go of the teenager's hand. Ryan might be exhausted and drugged up, but he was alive and, somewhere deep inside, her presence would register. She needed him to know she was there for him.
An hour later, Sandy appeared beside her. He had dropped Seth at school, despite their son's protests. He had already managed to squeeze one day off to spend at Ryan's bedside, but there came a point when even Sandy had to admit enough was enough. Ryan's recovery rate was still a complete blank and his injuries were severe enough for the doctors to still question if he would recover at all. Complications as a result of the surgery or bleeding out were all still quite real possibilities.
"How was Seth?" Kirsten asked.
"Oh, he whined the whole way there. I didn't even know he had that much hot air in him. Still, I made sure he went through the gates." Sandy planted a kiss on the top of his wife's head and dropped himself into the plastic bucket chair beside her. "How's he doing?" he asked, nodding towards the placid figure in the giant hospital bed. Somehow, Ryan looked smaller than ever, his feet barely seeming to reach halfway down the bed.
"He woke up for a second earlier," Kirsten said in a non-committal tone.
Sandy's eyes widened and he looked over at Ryan again as if expecting to see something different about him. "Well, did he say anything? What happened?"
Kirsten calmed him, "He couldn't speak. He just woke up and looked at me for a second then passed out again."
"What did the doctor say?" Sandy asked.
"They refused to take the tube out, saying his body still wasn't strong enough to cope on its own. They just told me to keep an eye on him and let them know if it happened again." Kirsten glanced in concern at Sandy, both thinking what neither would say – that Ryan might not wake up again.
Sandy, never one for great shows of emotion, immediately turned conversation away to more mundane topics, such as what they would eat that night and his latest surfing achievements. Kirsten listened mutely, her mind tuning him out as she watched Ryan.
It could have been a few minutes or an hour but silence had descended on the room. Kirsten and Sandy were snoozing lightly in their chairs when Ryan awakened once more. The first Kirsten knew of the event was a choking sound followed by panting, laboured wheezes. Her eyes flew open to see Ryan writhing as much as his weakened, broken body would allow. His unbroken hand was reaching at the tube down his throat, tearing feebly at the plastic in a desperately futile gesture.
Sandy awoke with a start as Kirsten tried to restrain the boy. She leaned over the bed, easily pinning his arm back to the bed and staring directly into the fearful grey eyes. "Ryan, it's okay! It's okay. Ryan, look at me," she commanded, changing her tone from motherly to stern. "Hey, calm down." Panicked, she turned to Sandy who had jumped up but was standing awkwardly and speechlessly beside the bed. "Get the doctor in her! A nurse! Anyone!"
Mumbling incoherently, Sandy rushed from the room, leaving Kirsten alone with the terrified teenager. His face was crimson with the effort of trying to breathe with no success.
Ryan stared up at her, the desperate panic filling his gaze. He willed her to help him, to save him from choking to death. Dark spots danced before his eyes and Ryan could hear the gurgling of his life breath being sucked out of him. He was dying, he knew it. This woman standing over him…was she going to save him? Something surfaced from his subconscious, a reminder that he would not be saved, that no one would rescue him. He as alone, dying alone. He grappled weakly for the firm hand pinning him down, trying to wrench himself free from this pain but the hand was too strong.
Just as the spots obscuring his vision blurred into one hazy cloud, a clear voice pierced the void, instructing him to breathe out. In one fluid motion, a strange abrasive sensation ran down the sensitive tissue at the back of his throat and Ryan could breathe once more. Within moments, his vision cleared once more and his surroundings gradually came back into focus.
Kirsten and Sandy stood in shock beside the bed as a doctor and nurse moved methodically around Ryan's bed, checking monitors, adjusting dosages and checking his vitals. Removing the stethoscope from beneath the top of Ryan's hospital gown, the doctor turned to the pair with a half smile. "Well, his heart is certainly sounding a lot steadier. I think our young patient has turned a corner."
"Thank God," Kirsten breathed.
"Well, don't get too comfortable yet. Ryan's journey is a maze and there are plenty more corners to be tackled. This, however, was one corner he had to do on his own. He's a tough boy."
"Yeah, that he is," Sandy replied, quietly, shuddering as he recalled how Ryan had found himself in this mess.
The doctor sent the nurse to get ice chips to soothe Ryan's parched throat and turned back to the Cohens. "I'll have the nurse check on him every hour until we are sure Ryan is back amongst the land of the living for good. For now, I'm sure he'd appreciate you staying with him. Just don't wear him out." With a reassuring smile, he left the room.
Kirsten sat down beside Ryan and gently took his hand in her own once more. The nurse returned with ice chips and carefully fed a couple to the teenager who accepted them gratefully and closed his eyes. For a moment, Kirsten thought he had fallen asleep, but then those grey eyes fixed upon her again. It was disconcerting how impenetrable they were. They stared at her and Kirsten squirmed under their scrutiny. "Hey, Ryan. How are you feeling?"
He did not answer at first and the two adults wondered if the power of speech had left him. It would seem strange to hear that voice again after so much time spent watching over him in silence. Finally, he whispered, "Kinda numb." Ryan's voice was scratchy and hoarse from the respirator tube; even as he spoke, his eyes pierced Kirsten, flickering occasionally towards Sandy.
"Do you remember what happened?" Sandy asked, aware of how uncomfortable Kirsten seemed. "Do you know where you are?"
The shake of Ryan's head was barely perceptible but it was enough. Kirsten glanced down at the magazine in her lap, finding it impossible to maintain eye contact with the teenager. It was as if he could see into her soul, see the guilt that lay there, the knowledge that all of this had happened because of her. She had abandoned him again, just like his own family had done.
Kirsten fought back the tears which threatened to spill over and lifted her head, determined to do something towards making it up to Ryan now. She could not hide her head in shame from him forever. She braced herself to meet that gaze once more. This time, Ryan's eyes wandered from one concerned face to another, a flicker of a frown passing across his bruised brow.
Sandy began, "You're in the hospital. Seth wanted to stay with you but we figured he ought to get back in school."
Ryan whispered, "Seth?"
"Yeah," Sandy rambled on, oblivious to the difficulty Ryan was having grasping all of these words. "He was real cut up that I wouldn't let him carry on his bedside manner for the rest of the week. He'll be thrilled to know you're awake. Maybe after school…"
Kirsten rested a hand on her husband's arm. "Sandy…" her voice trailed off. She could tell that something was wrong. The indecipherable gaze Ryan had fixed them with had altered to one of confusion and concern. "Ryan? Are you okay?"
"I just…" he managed, weakly. A flicker of panic crossed his face once more. "Who are you?"
END OF PART 5
Just as a word of warning, there definitely won't be a new chapter for at least a fortnight because I've got an insanely hectic schedule. But, for all those lovely people who have pestered me and not given up, you'll probably think that's a bit better going than the wait between previous posts! Sorry for that!
By Allegra
Author's Note: A massive THANK YOU to everyone who has been reviewing & for the all the supportive & constructive comments. Thanks to Kailey for finally guilting me into sitting down & writing this regardless of what kind of mood I was in! Sorry to anonymous reviewer for not specifying whether it's het or slash. It's definitely het, but really there isn't going to be any kind of romance/sexual interaction at all. It's just a straightforward h/c fic.
I'm quite sure a lot of the medical events in here will be completely wrong but I'm hoping fellow angst readers will gloss over that fact! My God, ER has a lot to answer for!! I'm really sorry for the delay again. Now, onto the next chapter…
Part 5 : AWAKENING
Seth pushed a piece of browning lettuce around his plastic plate, disinterestedly. Over the past twenty-four hours, he had tried hard to find ways to amuse himself in the hospital. He had attempted to work out which department had the best looking nurses, guessed what was wrong with each of the visitors to the accident and emergency sections but none of these had kept his mind from returning to the real reason he was there. His best friend was lying, half dead, unaware that anyone was with him, thinking about him, worrying for him.
Seth partly resented the fact that his mother had taken the reins over Ryan's care, practically forcing the other family members aside. Simultaneously, Seth was discovering how bad he was at handling a crisis like this. Left alone to make medical decisions for someone he cared about and sit by their bedside, talking about normal daily activities as if nothing was wrong, seemed near impossible. He just prayed Ryan woke up soon.
Finally pushing the lettuce aside in a final admittance of defeat, Seth shoved his chair out and slumped back in the direction of his friend's room.
Marissa's parents had finally forced her to return home, much to her dismay. Kirsten was sitting with Ryan when Julie Cooper had turned up and instructed her daughter to get in the car. She had tried to be nice about it but it was evident that she Julie felt uncomfortable about the proximity of Marissa to this new boy in the neighbourhood. Even unconscious, apparently a boy from the wrong side of the tracks was cause for concern.
Kirsten had assured Marissa that they would call her if there was any change. If the truth be told, Kirsten was finding it hard enough to hold herself together, let alone have a second child to think about. She was equally as distraught as Marissa but was forced to hide her concern and play the supportive parent. If anything, it was a relief to be able to react however she wanted to.
Now, alone with Ryan, she tried to sort through what feelings she could still identify within the general numbness which had overcome her. Kirsten reached a hand out the teenager's, taking it gently in her own and feeling the weight of his lifeless fingers within her own vital ones. Her gaze traced the youthful face, taking in each line and contour, seeing beyond the bruises and red cuts. Behind the tough exterior was a mere child, a broken one who needed care and love.
Kirsten recalled the expression on Ryan's face the day that his mother had turned up at the Cohens' house. An entire spectrum of emotions had played across the usually unreadable face in that first moment. It was apprehension, maybe even fear, but hope hid in the darkness of Ryan's eyes, at the bottom of Pandora's box. At the time, Kirsten had barely registered what he must have been wondering. Her mind had been elsewhere, feeling the awkwardness of having someone from such a different background walking into her home. Did she think Kirsten was stuck up for having so much, that she had lured her son away with promises and bribery. That thought was followed by wondering if there was anything in the house to feed the woman with, make a decent dinner without calling the local Chinese joint.
Sure, Kirsten had experienced her own family problems, but it was near impossible to fathom the depth of Ryan's pain to be rejected by his mother only to have her return when he had something to offer her. Had she brought a new boyfriend with her? Someone with violence raging in their veins, a beaten boy inside a man's body, all ready to repeat the cycle of abuse with Ryan.
All this went through this mother's mind as she gazed lovingly on the teenager before her. So caught up was she with her own thoughts, that Kirsten did not at first register the minuscule twitch in Ryan's finger. The second one caught her attention. Kirsten stared at his face, looking for any other signs of life. "Ryan?" she whispered, barely allowing herself to believe that he was improving. The respirator tube was still down his throat because the doctors had fear another cardiac arrest. "Ryan?" she repeated, gently.
As if in response to her calming voice, the boy's eyelids fluttered momentarily and Kirsten rubbed his warming hand lightly, willing him to come back to the world of the living. "Ryan? Can you open your eyes?" The eyelids fluttered once more and opened a fraction, a sliver of grey iris showing. "Hey," Kirsten smiled broadly, relief washing over her. The eyes stared right at her, piercing her soul and bringing the guilt about leaving him at the juvenile centre roaring back into her mind.
The effort of simply opening his eyes was more than enough for Ryan and, before she had a chance to say anything more, those grey eyes had closed once more. "Ryan?" Kirsten asked, her voice betraying more concern this time. She chided herself inwardly for pushing him. He had been through so much trauma in such a short space of time. It should be expected that he would need plenty of rest, that he would not be sitting up watching television within days of surgery. Still, Kirsten refused to let go of the teenager's hand. Ryan might be exhausted and drugged up, but he was alive and, somewhere deep inside, her presence would register. She needed him to know she was there for him.
An hour later, Sandy appeared beside her. He had dropped Seth at school, despite their son's protests. He had already managed to squeeze one day off to spend at Ryan's bedside, but there came a point when even Sandy had to admit enough was enough. Ryan's recovery rate was still a complete blank and his injuries were severe enough for the doctors to still question if he would recover at all. Complications as a result of the surgery or bleeding out were all still quite real possibilities.
"How was Seth?" Kirsten asked.
"Oh, he whined the whole way there. I didn't even know he had that much hot air in him. Still, I made sure he went through the gates." Sandy planted a kiss on the top of his wife's head and dropped himself into the plastic bucket chair beside her. "How's he doing?" he asked, nodding towards the placid figure in the giant hospital bed. Somehow, Ryan looked smaller than ever, his feet barely seeming to reach halfway down the bed.
"He woke up for a second earlier," Kirsten said in a non-committal tone.
Sandy's eyes widened and he looked over at Ryan again as if expecting to see something different about him. "Well, did he say anything? What happened?"
Kirsten calmed him, "He couldn't speak. He just woke up and looked at me for a second then passed out again."
"What did the doctor say?" Sandy asked.
"They refused to take the tube out, saying his body still wasn't strong enough to cope on its own. They just told me to keep an eye on him and let them know if it happened again." Kirsten glanced in concern at Sandy, both thinking what neither would say – that Ryan might not wake up again.
Sandy, never one for great shows of emotion, immediately turned conversation away to more mundane topics, such as what they would eat that night and his latest surfing achievements. Kirsten listened mutely, her mind tuning him out as she watched Ryan.
It could have been a few minutes or an hour but silence had descended on the room. Kirsten and Sandy were snoozing lightly in their chairs when Ryan awakened once more. The first Kirsten knew of the event was a choking sound followed by panting, laboured wheezes. Her eyes flew open to see Ryan writhing as much as his weakened, broken body would allow. His unbroken hand was reaching at the tube down his throat, tearing feebly at the plastic in a desperately futile gesture.
Sandy awoke with a start as Kirsten tried to restrain the boy. She leaned over the bed, easily pinning his arm back to the bed and staring directly into the fearful grey eyes. "Ryan, it's okay! It's okay. Ryan, look at me," she commanded, changing her tone from motherly to stern. "Hey, calm down." Panicked, she turned to Sandy who had jumped up but was standing awkwardly and speechlessly beside the bed. "Get the doctor in her! A nurse! Anyone!"
Mumbling incoherently, Sandy rushed from the room, leaving Kirsten alone with the terrified teenager. His face was crimson with the effort of trying to breathe with no success.
Ryan stared up at her, the desperate panic filling his gaze. He willed her to help him, to save him from choking to death. Dark spots danced before his eyes and Ryan could hear the gurgling of his life breath being sucked out of him. He was dying, he knew it. This woman standing over him…was she going to save him? Something surfaced from his subconscious, a reminder that he would not be saved, that no one would rescue him. He as alone, dying alone. He grappled weakly for the firm hand pinning him down, trying to wrench himself free from this pain but the hand was too strong.
Just as the spots obscuring his vision blurred into one hazy cloud, a clear voice pierced the void, instructing him to breathe out. In one fluid motion, a strange abrasive sensation ran down the sensitive tissue at the back of his throat and Ryan could breathe once more. Within moments, his vision cleared once more and his surroundings gradually came back into focus.
Kirsten and Sandy stood in shock beside the bed as a doctor and nurse moved methodically around Ryan's bed, checking monitors, adjusting dosages and checking his vitals. Removing the stethoscope from beneath the top of Ryan's hospital gown, the doctor turned to the pair with a half smile. "Well, his heart is certainly sounding a lot steadier. I think our young patient has turned a corner."
"Thank God," Kirsten breathed.
"Well, don't get too comfortable yet. Ryan's journey is a maze and there are plenty more corners to be tackled. This, however, was one corner he had to do on his own. He's a tough boy."
"Yeah, that he is," Sandy replied, quietly, shuddering as he recalled how Ryan had found himself in this mess.
The doctor sent the nurse to get ice chips to soothe Ryan's parched throat and turned back to the Cohens. "I'll have the nurse check on him every hour until we are sure Ryan is back amongst the land of the living for good. For now, I'm sure he'd appreciate you staying with him. Just don't wear him out." With a reassuring smile, he left the room.
Kirsten sat down beside Ryan and gently took his hand in her own once more. The nurse returned with ice chips and carefully fed a couple to the teenager who accepted them gratefully and closed his eyes. For a moment, Kirsten thought he had fallen asleep, but then those grey eyes fixed upon her again. It was disconcerting how impenetrable they were. They stared at her and Kirsten squirmed under their scrutiny. "Hey, Ryan. How are you feeling?"
He did not answer at first and the two adults wondered if the power of speech had left him. It would seem strange to hear that voice again after so much time spent watching over him in silence. Finally, he whispered, "Kinda numb." Ryan's voice was scratchy and hoarse from the respirator tube; even as he spoke, his eyes pierced Kirsten, flickering occasionally towards Sandy.
"Do you remember what happened?" Sandy asked, aware of how uncomfortable Kirsten seemed. "Do you know where you are?"
The shake of Ryan's head was barely perceptible but it was enough. Kirsten glanced down at the magazine in her lap, finding it impossible to maintain eye contact with the teenager. It was as if he could see into her soul, see the guilt that lay there, the knowledge that all of this had happened because of her. She had abandoned him again, just like his own family had done.
Kirsten fought back the tears which threatened to spill over and lifted her head, determined to do something towards making it up to Ryan now. She could not hide her head in shame from him forever. She braced herself to meet that gaze once more. This time, Ryan's eyes wandered from one concerned face to another, a flicker of a frown passing across his bruised brow.
Sandy began, "You're in the hospital. Seth wanted to stay with you but we figured he ought to get back in school."
Ryan whispered, "Seth?"
"Yeah," Sandy rambled on, oblivious to the difficulty Ryan was having grasping all of these words. "He was real cut up that I wouldn't let him carry on his bedside manner for the rest of the week. He'll be thrilled to know you're awake. Maybe after school…"
Kirsten rested a hand on her husband's arm. "Sandy…" her voice trailed off. She could tell that something was wrong. The indecipherable gaze Ryan had fixed them with had altered to one of confusion and concern. "Ryan? Are you okay?"
"I just…" he managed, weakly. A flicker of panic crossed his face once more. "Who are you?"
END OF PART 5
Just as a word of warning, there definitely won't be a new chapter for at least a fortnight because I've got an insanely hectic schedule. But, for all those lovely people who have pestered me and not given up, you'll probably think that's a bit better going than the wait between previous posts! Sorry for that!