THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE COHEN

By Allegra

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow! Can you believe 'coz I can't?! I finished a whole other chapter in less than a week since the last one went up! Just goes to show what the summer holidays will do for you. I wonder if it will last…? A massive thank you to all you lovely people who have been reviewing. You are so generous & thank you sooo much for taking the time to pass on your encouragement, appreciation, comments & queries. It has been making this a truly enjoyable experience.

I'd also like to say a HUGE thank you to the anonymous person who nominated this story for a Citrus Award. It put a grin on my face for a good 24 hours straight! I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

PART 7 : YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE

Marissa had never been more grateful to her dad for refusing to drop her at school at that morning. He had an early meeting to attend and couldn't wait for her to preen for half an hour in the mirror. So, luckily, she now had wheels which she wasted no time in using. Marissa didn't know Seth Cohen very well but she imagined this was probably the quietest he had ever been. They barely spoke for the first half mile on the freeway.

Finally, she asked, "So, do you think he'll be awake?"

Seth shrugged, "I don't know. I kind of hope not." He caught her surprised glance and immediately tried to defend his comment. "That is to say, I hope…I mean, it's just…" He floundered to find words which would amply sum up the rollercoaster of emotions he had been feeling for the past few days.

Marissa saved him the difficulty. "Hey, it's okay. I know what you mean. I've been kind of thinking the same thing. I mean, as worried as I am about him, Ryan's not the kind of soft-centred guy it's easy to be sensitive with."

"Yeah, not big on talking. I'm imagining sitting by his bedside would almost be easier when his eyes are closed." Seth was silent, considering his words for a moment. "Then again, I just want him to be okay again. If he doesn't wake up, then things aren't looking too good…and I really want him to be well again."

"Yeah, me too," Marissa replied, quietly. It was stating the obvious but these were the words which had been circling, unvoiced, in everyone's heads since the incident.

The pair didn't speak again until they pulled into a hospital parking space and made their way mutely to Ryan's room. "Hey," Seth grabbed Marissa's arm just as she touched the door handle.

"What?"

"Have you got a speech?" Marissa stared back at him blankly. "You know, a reason why we skipped an afternoon of school?"

Marissa rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like the fact that someone very important to me is lying in hospital while I'm expected to go to gym class. Just chill." Ignoring the stutter which preceded another monologue from her companion, Marissa pushed the door open.

Ryan appeared to be sleeping. His face and neck still displayed a bloom bruises which showed no sign of fading for a while yet. A monitor beeped softly in the background but he was off the respirator which both teenagers took to be a healthy sign of recovery.

Sandy and Kirsten turned, their faces shifting from wearied concern to surprise and anger in one swift, fluid movement. Kirsten whispered loudly, "Marissa? Seth! What are you kids doing here? You're supposed to be at school."

Sandy raised his eyebrows in his wife's direction, softly adding, "You really need to ask? Come on, honey. What difference is one afternoon going to make?"

Kirsten turned her anger back on her husband. "It's not one afternoon I'm worried about, it's all the others which will follow on. Oh, and thanks for the support, husband."

Sandy pulled a face and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, sorry I spoke. But they're here now. It's too late to send them back to class, so let's make the most of it." He sent a pointed glance in the direction of Ryan's bed. Kirsten sighed and nodded. For a split second, Ryan's presence had slipped her mind.

"Okay, you've got half an hour with Ryan and then the pair of you are going home. Do you understand?" Kirsten waited for the furtive nods of agreement. Ryan shifted beside her and she quickly added, "Can I just have a quick word with both of you outside for a second?"

The news of Ryan's condition came as a shock to both teenager; even Seth was lost for words. Kirsten tried her hardest to play the severity of his amnesia down, reminding them that, just like the bruises on his face, so the swelling in Ryan's skull would gradually go down and he would be the same person they always knew.

"But how are we supposed to talk to him like that? I mean, I don't know what to say to him," Seth said, desperately.

Kirsten reached out one hand to rub his arm in reassurance. "It's okay, honey. Ryan wants to try and remember, he needs you to help him get there."

Marissa nodded, slowly digesting this information. "How far back does he remember? Does he remember anything?"

"We don't know yet. Sandy and I have tried to gentle. He's pretty tired out so go easy on him." She looked from one bewildered teenager to the other. "Just be yourselves. Ryan's still the same person, he just can't remember it yet."

"I must know you guys, huh?" Ryan broke the silence in the room. A small smile played on his lips but it was not returned. "I'm sorry. I guess I've got a lot to remember."

"I'm Marissa. We're...friends." Marissa had never had to explain her relationship with Ryan before and it was even more surreal to be saying it to him of all people. She could almost feel the heat climbing her cheeks as she spoke. He was staring so hard at her, harder than he ever had before. His grey eyes seemed to know more than Ryan let on, as if he were secretly fully aware of the ambiguous "friendship" they shared. "Do you remember that?"

Ryan's stare did not waver as he shook his head. "Sorry," was all he managed in response.

"And I'm Seth. We kind of live together. I mean, you live with me."

"We live together?" Ryan enquired, frowning a little as he tried to make sense of this life he had no recollection of.

Suddenly hearing how that sounded, Seth hastily added, "Not like that though. You're more like a brother, a brother who lives in the pool house."

"Pool house? I live in a pool house?"

"Yeah, my parents kind of took you in for a bit." Seth stopped at that. If Ryan was still unsure how far back he could remember, perhaps reminding him of his crappy childhood was a bit too much to explain in one sitting.

"Don't I have parents of my own?"

Then again.... Seth prepared himself for the long biography. "You got in some trouble, my dad's a lawyer so he helped you out. Anyway, your dad isn't in the picture and you mom is not exactly reliable. She kind of kicked you out. You had nowhere to go so..."

"...your parents let me live with you? Wow, they must be pretty great folks to do that." Ryan looked intently at Seth for a moment until he saw the teenager's eyes dart in Marissa's direction and he cleared his throat uncertainly. "I'm sorry," Ryan said softly, unable to really excuse his odd behaviour. "You just don't look familiar to me."

Marissa desperately wanted to hold his hand, to reassure him, but she knew she couldn't. Not like this. He might get the wrong impression. But that was just the problem, it was the right impression, just at the wrong time. She was more afraid of letting an amnesiac Ryan aware of the strange attraction which lay between them. She couldn't do that to Luke. "This must be so hard for you...not being able to remember anything about yourself or your friends, your entire life."

Seth shot Marissa an exasperated look, "Yeah, well I bet he feels a lot better for hearing you say it out loud. Geez!"

"No, it's okay. I guess I'm still kind of in a daze right now. I can't seem to make sense of anything." Ryan's voice was slow and slurred, little more than a whisper alongside Seth's forced buoyancy. "The doctors say I just need time."

"You mean until your brain gets back to normal size?" Seth joked.

"Yeah, that's it." The mention of his physical state brought sensation back into sharp focus once more. For a time, the pain medication had dulled his senses, making it difficult to think, let alone acknowledge his injuries. Now, he was lucid if still a bit groggy, but the pain was slowly returning. He could feel a monotonous throbbing in his lower back and every time he moved, Ryan winced with the sharp sensation of injured muscle, broken bones and numerous cuts and bruises. Then, with the feeling, came the question: how had he ended up like this? Now, he finally had the voice to ask it. "So I got beat up? Do you live in a rough neighbourhood?"

Seth shook his head, "You come from Chino but we're in Newport now, Orange County." Ryan looked at him blankly; the address meant nothing to him. Seth elaborated, "Man, you live in a pool house, like the house that goes with the pool, so no, it's not a rough neighbourhood. Although, you did manage to find yourself a fight practically every trip out somewhere."

"So that's how I ended up here? I picked a fight?" Ryan was trying to reconcile what Sandy Cohen had told him with what Seth was telling him now. He needed to know how he had screwed up so bad that he had ended up in intensive care. Again, a sliver of emotion returned to him - he was a disappointment, worthless. Who had told him that? The blonde lady? The one who was here before? The woman in his fevered dreams?

"No, you didn't pick a fight. You got picked..." Seth paused, unsure how much more information his confused and weakened friend could handle at this point. "Do you really want to hear this? It's kind of complicated, not to mention pretty nasty."

"If it helps me put the pieces back together, yes." Ryan's voice was firm this time.

Marissa shook her head, uncertainly. "I don't know. You've been through a lot in the past few days, Ryan. Don't you think you should take it easy for a while? Concentrate on getting physically well. I mean, for all you know, your memory might come back tomorrow."

"No, I want to know. I need to..." Ryan pleaded, his voice soft and vulnerable.

Seth pondered where to start this story. It was like some kind of gender switched Cinderella, except at the stroke of midnight, Ryan had found himself back in juvie. "Okay, well, your brother got you involved in car theft and you both got caught. You managed to get off with my dad's help. Basically, you went home and got kicked out by your mom. That's how you ended up living in our pool house. Then, Luke..." Seth glanced furtively at Marissa.

"My boyfriend. It's a long story - later," she added.

"Luke thought you were into Marissa so he beat you up but managed to burn down this house you were hiding in at the same time." He stopped, aware of how absurd this entire saga was sounding. "Anyway, the point is both you and Luke got questioned by the police. Luke got off easy because he was a first time offender but you had a few black marks on your record already. That's how you ended up in the juvenile detention centre and that's how you got beat up. Some losers singled you out." Seth took a deep breath as he finally came to the end of his summing up. He had quite enjoyed relaying what was actually quite a yarn that he had almost forgotten the entire purpose of telling it.

It was Marissa who leaned forward, watching Ryan's responses closely. "Ryan? Do you remember any of this?"

Ryan didn't respond. His sluggish mind was working through the information, trying to make sense of what he couldn't understand. He couldn't process it properly; the pain in his back had grown from a dull ache to twinges of pain which coursed up his spine like sparks. A headache was spreading through his skull from temple to temple as if an elephant was slowly crushing him. Ryan tried to shift in the bed and was rewarded with a fiery stabbing pain in the area of his kidneys. He was unable to stifle the sharp cry which issued from his mouth and the agonised wince, both of which instantly put his friends into action.

Marissa placed a hand on his shoulder, pressing down on another tender bruise, but Ryan was too preoccupied with the flaring agony elsewhere to notice such an insignificant injury. "Are you okay? Ryan?" The urgent concern in her eyes showed and caught Ryan's attention. Those eyes looked familiar to him now; he had stared into them before, hadn't he? Not as a friend.

Seth stood up, "Do you want me to get someone?" He noticed the way Ryan's face had stilled, resting in a moment of calm between him and Marissa. The pair's eyes were locked in a beam of sentiment that they both shared. Seth wished that the floor would open and swallow him up; it was like sitting next to a couple on a sofa where they both spend the entire time kissing.

Seth was just about to slip from the room when Marissa broke the moment. "Are you sure you're okay?" As if on cue, Ryan's breathing hitched once more and his face contorted into a frown of discomfort when he moved. His breath came in short gasps as if he were struggling for air.

"Seth, get the doctor," Marissa instructed, her momentary hysteria replaced with calm concern. Her hand moved to Ryan's warm forehead, brushing her slender fingers through his hair. "Sssh, it's going to be okay. Everything's going to be fine."

Even through the pain, Ryan felt torn. He wanted to lean into that touch, so warm and tender, yet another part of him drew him back and told him to recoil from something that would never last, from happiness. Refusing to meet Marissa's gaze, Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the agony still searing like a hot poker in his back. Seconds later, a doctor appeared with a stethoscope in hand. He brushed Marissa aside to examine his patient, then barked a dosage at the accompanying nurse who went to find a vial and administered an injection into Ryan's IV line.

The doctor turned to Seth and Marissa. "I think you two had better go. Ryan's had a lot of excitement today and his body needs rest to heal. The pain killers will make him drowsy and it is better that he succumb to the fatigue than fight it." Nodding emphatically, the two teenagers were ushered out of the room, leaving Ryan alone to his tumultuous thoughts.

The pain killers seemed to be slow acting, either that, or his body was fighting its side effects. Ryan wanted to remember, he wanted to be clear headed. He didn't want to cry though and he struggled to hold back the damp tears which threatened to spill from his eyes. They were few but Ryan had the feeling that it wasn't something he indulged in very often.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, refusing to admit he was hurting, both physically and mentally. He was going to be fine, he could look after himself, just like it sounded he had always done. Yet, random, unconnected images stole across his darkening vision. Marissa's wide eyes, open yet somehow melancholy, as if she were carrying a heavy burden inside. Perhaps that was why he felt so drawn to her - because she was a kindred soul, struggling to stay sane in a world full of confusion and disappointment. Had they shared the same trouble? Or was it unspoken? Had they been more than friends?

As the drugs took effect, numbing his battered body, Ryan found it increasingly difficult to focus on one thought at a time. Marissa morphed into the blonde woman from his bedside, Kirsten. Was she really the woman from his dream or was his mind playing tricks? He had felt something emanating from her - anger, sadness, guilt even - all of it telling Ryan she had betrayed him once.

Perhaps Marissa had been right. He shouldn't have listened to the pathetic story of his life. It was like reliving it, trying to understand the rejection, the bad luck, the suffering it had clearly entailed. As drug-induced slumber forced itself upon him, Ryan felt fear, fear that he had unleashed a torrent of heartache that no one should experience even once, let alone endure twice.

END OF PART 7