THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE COHEN
By Allegra
Author's Note : OK, so maybe it was a little more than a fortnight between posts but I really hope someone is still reading this! I had no idea that someone else had already used this idea - I must have missed that angst story! However, I don't have plans to make this a serious amnesia story. Thanks again to all my fantabulous reviewers. I wouldn't have got past chapter one without your comments & encouragement. I hope this part is a worthy instalment.
Also, thank you to ctoan for reminding me that the time frame of my story means Ryan's mother hadn't visited yet, so this fic has become sort of AU in order to accommodate reversing those episodes. Ryan has seen his mother before he ends up in juvie. I also sent Seth and Marissa back to school when, as far as I remember, this was all still in the summer holidays. So, let's make it completely AU & ignore my complete lack of continuity!!
PART 6 : FORGOTTEN
"But he doesn't remember us! He doesn't remember anything. How are we supposed to deal with that?" Sandy asked of the doctor, trying to keep calm in the face of such shock. He desperately wanted to shake the white-coated man before him and force some kind of reaction out of him. These professionals had seen too many horrific cases to even bat an eyelid over such a small problem as amnesia. Sandy was frantic. As if his family hadn't been through enough without this little gift.
The doctor stood firm but his lips tightened as Sandy's aggression mounted. Sandy had played enough poker games across the legal table to notice each twitching muscle and he was quick to back down. If he allowed his anger to get the better of him, the doctor was more likely to simply walk away than actually help him. Running a hand through his dark hair, Sandy took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm just worried about the implications of this for Ryan. My wife's in there with him now, but she doesn't know what to say any more than I do. We just need a little guidance here, some kind of reassurance that everything..." Sandy tailed off, realising what he was actually asking for - a promise that Ryan would recover.
The doctor, Dr. Swift, fixed Sandy's dishevelled form with something bordering on sympathy and he put his hands in his pockets. "Mr. Cohen. I can't make promises. I'm a doctor, not God. The brain is a complicated organ and the way a person manipulates it, subconsciously or otherwise, is beyond our understanding. However, I can give you the medical facts." Sandy nodded, grateful for any kind of assurance at this critical point. "Ryan's wave patterns are normal with no erratic brain activity. In other words, there is no indication of brain damage."
"Then why can't he remember us?" Sandy interjected, desperately.
"The blows he received to his head were enough to give us cause for concern. Even without brain damage, the beating probably resulted in a swelling the brain. This can manifest itself in a variety of ways. Clearly, in this case, Ryan's short-term memory has suffered. I'll run some tests to be sure and perhaps if you could assess the last thing Ryan does remember."
"So, as the swelling goes down, Ryan's memory will return?" Sandy clarified.
"God willing," Swift replied.
"God? I thought you guys didn't believe in him." Sandy smiled wanly. "Thank you, doctor." He turned back to the door of Ryan's recovery room, preparing himself mentally for the task before him.
Seth sat alone at lunch that day. It was a position he was used to, being passed by as if he didn't exist. At one time, that had bothered him. Now, he didn't care. His mind was as far from school as it could escape. It wandered back to the hospital bed where his new found best friend lay, helpless and injured. It sucked that he was forced to come to school and sit through the insignificance of trigonometry and grammar when there were more important events happening in the real world. It didn't matter if he knew how the square root of 782. What use was that if his friend died?
Lost in his reverie, Seth didn't notice Marissa approach his table and sit down beside him. "Hey," she said, softly, eyeing him awkwardly. They had barely spoken until Ryan had arrived in Newport, and it still felt weird having a conversation without him to bridge the huge social abyss which had separated them for so long.
"Hey," Seth managed, suddenly not caring how it looked to see Marissa Cooper eating lunch beside Seth Cohen, loser of the century.
"Why do we have to be here? I haven't listened to word anyone's said to me all morning." Marissa pushed the straw into her carton of orange juice and sat back miserably.
"Tell me about it. Plus, we've only got gym class this afternoon. What's the point of that?"
Marissa's eyes roamed over the hordes of students around them before returning to Seth. "Why don't we skip class? We're old enough to make our own decisions. What are our folks going to say? That we've missed vital work for our SATS? I don't think so. It's pathetic. I'm not taking orders from them."
Seth looked her up and down. He had always thought Marissa Cooper to be the epitome of Newport social elite - the perfect life, perfect hair and clothes. Only since Ryan arrived had he begun to see how off the rails she really was. There was a reckless streak in Marissa that even put Ryan to shame. "Let's go."
"It's okay, sweetheart, it'll all come back to you." Despite the shock, Kirsten had mustered all the comfort she could. If she was terrified at this new revelation, Ryan must feel it tenfold. The last thing he needed was someone else to lose their grip.
Sandy placed a placating hand on his wife's shoulder. Ryan's gaze was removed, distant, fixed somewhere on the far wall. Sandy leaned close to Kirsten and whispered, "We've got to find out what he remembers." Ryan's eyes suddenly turned to the older man and Sandy forced a smile to his lips before sitting on the edge of the bed. "Hey there, kid. Listen, I've spoken to the doctors and they're all really pleased with your recovery." He licked his lips which had suddenly dried. Ryan did nothing, said nothing, made no acknowledgement that he had even heard the words. "Can you tell me the last thing you remember?" he continued.
Ryan looked hard at Sandy for a moment. He felt like there was cotton wool where his brain ought to be. It was too much effort to speak, let alone rifle through old memories, ordering them and finding the most recent. Part of him was more afraid of reaching for them only to find none existed anymore, that everything had been erased forever. He searched this man's face - the heavy, dark eyebrows and hair, those arresting blue eyes which begged him to trust him. It all looked vaguely familiar but nothing stood out. Sandy's face was nothing more than a strong sense of deja-vu.
Then, Ryan shifted his gaze to Kirsten's anxious face beside him. She was holding his hand, squeezing it gently. He could feel that, but his emotions towards her were disordered and mixed. The deja-vu was stronger here and his senses struggled to place her. The blonde haired woman of his dreams, her smile and caresses. His mother? Then the feeling altered, the waters poisoned with blackness where they ran clear only seconds before. Ryan sensed pain, resentment, perhaps even hatred. He fought to capture the moment, to give it a time, place and meaning, but all he experienced was fear and panic. He needed to be free, away from her.
Ryan tugged his hand free from Kirsten's and tried to sit up, his eyes desperate and wild. "No..." he murmured as he felt Sandy's strong arms pinning him back down to the bed. "No, let me go, let me go..." Ryan's eyes rolled wildly as he fought back, never letting Kirsten out of his sight.
"Ryan, it's okay. Be still," Kirsten cooed, trying to calm him, but she only made things worse.
The teenager opened his mouth to shout but his voice caught in his throat as searing pain lanced down his back. His breath hitched and it was all he could do to get oxygen into his starved lungs. Sandy forced him back onto the bed but it barely took any strength at all to subdue the weakened boy. "Ryan, calm down. It's okay."
"Sweetheart, we're on your side. We're not going to hurt you," Kirsten said, soothingly. "Don't you remember?" She felt tears welling in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.
Ryan could not control himself so adeptly. "No, I don't...I can't remember...I can't..." His chest heaved as he struggled for breath and each word grew fainter and fainter as the fight left him. A few tears squeezed out from under his tightly closed lids. Kirsten had never seen him in such a state. She had barely believed it was possible for Ryan to cry real tears and yet now she saw him in all his vulnerability. "It hurts so bad.... What happened to me? God, it hurts..." His voice trailed away until the only audible sounds in the room were the beeps of the monitor and Ryan's harsh breathing.
Sandy relinquished his hold on the boy's arms and sat back, exchanging horrified looks with Kirsten. Sitting back, he adopted his calmest tone. "Ryan, listen to me. Some guys picked a fight with you. You were lucky to get out alive, but you're okay now. Everything's going to be okay."
"My back?" Ryan queried, slowly taking control of himself once more. "It hurts so bad."
"Your kidney ruptured and it had to be fixed up, plus there was some bruising to your spine."
"What? Can I walk?"
"One step at a time, kiddo. Yes, the doctors say you'll walk again. You also suffered several fractures, including cheekbone, ribs and fingers. But hey, you're through the worst of it. I promise you, everything's going to be okay." Sandy patted Ryan's hand thoughtfully.
"But I can't remember anything," the teenager replied, sadly.
"Hey, it was one hell of a beating you took. The swelling to your brain will take a while to go down and then it'll all come flooding back to you. You'll see." Kirsten appreciated her husband's assuring tone; she was running out of energy and words to say which might make the situation better.
"What you really need to do now though is rest," she added, smoothing Ryan's hair off his forehead. "We'll stay with you. Don't worry, don't worry about a thing." She rested her hand against his warm skin for a few moments, watching the heavy eyelids slowly close and Ryan's chest rise and fall in even strides. Now they were back to the waiting game once more.
END OF PART 6
I think blackmail is the key here - Please, please review - or Ryan might never wake up again!!
By Allegra
Author's Note : OK, so maybe it was a little more than a fortnight between posts but I really hope someone is still reading this! I had no idea that someone else had already used this idea - I must have missed that angst story! However, I don't have plans to make this a serious amnesia story. Thanks again to all my fantabulous reviewers. I wouldn't have got past chapter one without your comments & encouragement. I hope this part is a worthy instalment.
Also, thank you to ctoan for reminding me that the time frame of my story means Ryan's mother hadn't visited yet, so this fic has become sort of AU in order to accommodate reversing those episodes. Ryan has seen his mother before he ends up in juvie. I also sent Seth and Marissa back to school when, as far as I remember, this was all still in the summer holidays. So, let's make it completely AU & ignore my complete lack of continuity!!
PART 6 : FORGOTTEN
"But he doesn't remember us! He doesn't remember anything. How are we supposed to deal with that?" Sandy asked of the doctor, trying to keep calm in the face of such shock. He desperately wanted to shake the white-coated man before him and force some kind of reaction out of him. These professionals had seen too many horrific cases to even bat an eyelid over such a small problem as amnesia. Sandy was frantic. As if his family hadn't been through enough without this little gift.
The doctor stood firm but his lips tightened as Sandy's aggression mounted. Sandy had played enough poker games across the legal table to notice each twitching muscle and he was quick to back down. If he allowed his anger to get the better of him, the doctor was more likely to simply walk away than actually help him. Running a hand through his dark hair, Sandy took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm just worried about the implications of this for Ryan. My wife's in there with him now, but she doesn't know what to say any more than I do. We just need a little guidance here, some kind of reassurance that everything..." Sandy tailed off, realising what he was actually asking for - a promise that Ryan would recover.
The doctor, Dr. Swift, fixed Sandy's dishevelled form with something bordering on sympathy and he put his hands in his pockets. "Mr. Cohen. I can't make promises. I'm a doctor, not God. The brain is a complicated organ and the way a person manipulates it, subconsciously or otherwise, is beyond our understanding. However, I can give you the medical facts." Sandy nodded, grateful for any kind of assurance at this critical point. "Ryan's wave patterns are normal with no erratic brain activity. In other words, there is no indication of brain damage."
"Then why can't he remember us?" Sandy interjected, desperately.
"The blows he received to his head were enough to give us cause for concern. Even without brain damage, the beating probably resulted in a swelling the brain. This can manifest itself in a variety of ways. Clearly, in this case, Ryan's short-term memory has suffered. I'll run some tests to be sure and perhaps if you could assess the last thing Ryan does remember."
"So, as the swelling goes down, Ryan's memory will return?" Sandy clarified.
"God willing," Swift replied.
"God? I thought you guys didn't believe in him." Sandy smiled wanly. "Thank you, doctor." He turned back to the door of Ryan's recovery room, preparing himself mentally for the task before him.
Seth sat alone at lunch that day. It was a position he was used to, being passed by as if he didn't exist. At one time, that had bothered him. Now, he didn't care. His mind was as far from school as it could escape. It wandered back to the hospital bed where his new found best friend lay, helpless and injured. It sucked that he was forced to come to school and sit through the insignificance of trigonometry and grammar when there were more important events happening in the real world. It didn't matter if he knew how the square root of 782. What use was that if his friend died?
Lost in his reverie, Seth didn't notice Marissa approach his table and sit down beside him. "Hey," she said, softly, eyeing him awkwardly. They had barely spoken until Ryan had arrived in Newport, and it still felt weird having a conversation without him to bridge the huge social abyss which had separated them for so long.
"Hey," Seth managed, suddenly not caring how it looked to see Marissa Cooper eating lunch beside Seth Cohen, loser of the century.
"Why do we have to be here? I haven't listened to word anyone's said to me all morning." Marissa pushed the straw into her carton of orange juice and sat back miserably.
"Tell me about it. Plus, we've only got gym class this afternoon. What's the point of that?"
Marissa's eyes roamed over the hordes of students around them before returning to Seth. "Why don't we skip class? We're old enough to make our own decisions. What are our folks going to say? That we've missed vital work for our SATS? I don't think so. It's pathetic. I'm not taking orders from them."
Seth looked her up and down. He had always thought Marissa Cooper to be the epitome of Newport social elite - the perfect life, perfect hair and clothes. Only since Ryan arrived had he begun to see how off the rails she really was. There was a reckless streak in Marissa that even put Ryan to shame. "Let's go."
"It's okay, sweetheart, it'll all come back to you." Despite the shock, Kirsten had mustered all the comfort she could. If she was terrified at this new revelation, Ryan must feel it tenfold. The last thing he needed was someone else to lose their grip.
Sandy placed a placating hand on his wife's shoulder. Ryan's gaze was removed, distant, fixed somewhere on the far wall. Sandy leaned close to Kirsten and whispered, "We've got to find out what he remembers." Ryan's eyes suddenly turned to the older man and Sandy forced a smile to his lips before sitting on the edge of the bed. "Hey there, kid. Listen, I've spoken to the doctors and they're all really pleased with your recovery." He licked his lips which had suddenly dried. Ryan did nothing, said nothing, made no acknowledgement that he had even heard the words. "Can you tell me the last thing you remember?" he continued.
Ryan looked hard at Sandy for a moment. He felt like there was cotton wool where his brain ought to be. It was too much effort to speak, let alone rifle through old memories, ordering them and finding the most recent. Part of him was more afraid of reaching for them only to find none existed anymore, that everything had been erased forever. He searched this man's face - the heavy, dark eyebrows and hair, those arresting blue eyes which begged him to trust him. It all looked vaguely familiar but nothing stood out. Sandy's face was nothing more than a strong sense of deja-vu.
Then, Ryan shifted his gaze to Kirsten's anxious face beside him. She was holding his hand, squeezing it gently. He could feel that, but his emotions towards her were disordered and mixed. The deja-vu was stronger here and his senses struggled to place her. The blonde haired woman of his dreams, her smile and caresses. His mother? Then the feeling altered, the waters poisoned with blackness where they ran clear only seconds before. Ryan sensed pain, resentment, perhaps even hatred. He fought to capture the moment, to give it a time, place and meaning, but all he experienced was fear and panic. He needed to be free, away from her.
Ryan tugged his hand free from Kirsten's and tried to sit up, his eyes desperate and wild. "No..." he murmured as he felt Sandy's strong arms pinning him back down to the bed. "No, let me go, let me go..." Ryan's eyes rolled wildly as he fought back, never letting Kirsten out of his sight.
"Ryan, it's okay. Be still," Kirsten cooed, trying to calm him, but she only made things worse.
The teenager opened his mouth to shout but his voice caught in his throat as searing pain lanced down his back. His breath hitched and it was all he could do to get oxygen into his starved lungs. Sandy forced him back onto the bed but it barely took any strength at all to subdue the weakened boy. "Ryan, calm down. It's okay."
"Sweetheart, we're on your side. We're not going to hurt you," Kirsten said, soothingly. "Don't you remember?" She felt tears welling in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.
Ryan could not control himself so adeptly. "No, I don't...I can't remember...I can't..." His chest heaved as he struggled for breath and each word grew fainter and fainter as the fight left him. A few tears squeezed out from under his tightly closed lids. Kirsten had never seen him in such a state. She had barely believed it was possible for Ryan to cry real tears and yet now she saw him in all his vulnerability. "It hurts so bad.... What happened to me? God, it hurts..." His voice trailed away until the only audible sounds in the room were the beeps of the monitor and Ryan's harsh breathing.
Sandy relinquished his hold on the boy's arms and sat back, exchanging horrified looks with Kirsten. Sitting back, he adopted his calmest tone. "Ryan, listen to me. Some guys picked a fight with you. You were lucky to get out alive, but you're okay now. Everything's going to be okay."
"My back?" Ryan queried, slowly taking control of himself once more. "It hurts so bad."
"Your kidney ruptured and it had to be fixed up, plus there was some bruising to your spine."
"What? Can I walk?"
"One step at a time, kiddo. Yes, the doctors say you'll walk again. You also suffered several fractures, including cheekbone, ribs and fingers. But hey, you're through the worst of it. I promise you, everything's going to be okay." Sandy patted Ryan's hand thoughtfully.
"But I can't remember anything," the teenager replied, sadly.
"Hey, it was one hell of a beating you took. The swelling to your brain will take a while to go down and then it'll all come flooding back to you. You'll see." Kirsten appreciated her husband's assuring tone; she was running out of energy and words to say which might make the situation better.
"What you really need to do now though is rest," she added, smoothing Ryan's hair off his forehead. "We'll stay with you. Don't worry, don't worry about a thing." She rested her hand against his warm skin for a few moments, watching the heavy eyelids slowly close and Ryan's chest rise and fall in even strides. Now they were back to the waiting game once more.
END OF PART 6
I think blackmail is the key here - Please, please review - or Ryan might never wake up again!!