THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE COHEN
By Allegra
Author's note: A massive thank you to all my reviewers. You're the best! I really wouldn't be able to do this without you. I hope you like this next instalment.
PART 9 : HOME
Ryan had spent the better part of his afternoon sleeping. He wasn't really that tired but it was a useful avoidance tactic. Nobody bothered him and he was free from having to face up to the dismal reality of his new life, even if the old one hadn't sounded too great either. The doctors had given him some painkillers which Kirsten had quickly taken off him. She claimed he would lose the small bottle amidst the jumble of stuff Seth had installed in the pool house. In reality, Ryan suspected it had more to do with her monitoring his recovery and preventing any unnecessary pill-popping.
He had watched the doctor talking to Sandy and Kirsten outside the hospital ward a few days earlier. All three pairs of eyes had turned to Ryan's bed at one time or another. Their voices were inaudible behind the glass partition but it didn't take a genius to figure out the subject of their conversation. The doctor had spoken to Ryan about taking care of himself once he was let out but he hadn't been convinced by the boy's attempts to allay fears that he wouldn't pull stitches or commit suicide. Ryan felt bad that the Cohens had to be caught up in his messed up life and all it's baggage but he was pretty helpless at the moment. The pills he was allowed at five hour intervals still kept him in a relatively woozy state and he possessed neither the strength nor the inclination to protest against the Cohens' concerns.
For now he was grateful to have his own private space where no one could bother him too easily. Ryan glanced at the digital clock, surprised that so much time had elapsed since he closed his eyes. He shocked himself with how much time he spent fast asleep, despite the doctor's assurances that it was perfectly normal. His body was healing and it needed rest, or so he had been told. Ryan could only hope this convenient escape route stayed open for a while longer.
Momentarily forgetting his injuries, he leaned on his elbows and pulled himself up into a sitting position. The exertion pulled on the stitches from where one battered kidney had been prepared, not to mention the quilt of colourful and very painful bruises and Ryan's breath caught sharply. Wincing, he moved more slowly, carefully balancing his body on the few areas that didn't hurt too badly.
Maybe his amnesiac situation would be easier to cope with if it wasn't accompanied by so much physical pain. It was just too much to handle mending himself mentally and physically at the same time. Ryan only wished he could communicate all this to everyone around him but it all seemed too much deal with. Besides, it was almost like pouring his heart out to complete strangers and Ryan wasn't wont to do that at the best of times.
A light rap on the glass door of the pool house brought his attention to Kirsten standing with a tray of food and drink. Seeing that he was about to struggle up to open the door, she quickly put the tray down and opened it herself. "No you don't! Stay put – doctor's orders." Ryan settled back gratefully. "I brought you something to eat. You're due for your next pill if you want it. Do you need one?" Kirsten looked him up and down, examining the teenager for signs of frailty. Ryan was pale and, aside from the cuts and bruises visible on his arms and neck, seemed relatively sound. She could only imagine how horrific his chest must look beneath the blue T-shirt.
Ryan shook his head, ignoring the steady gaze. "Nah, it's not too bad."
Kirsten didn't push further. She was glad that he didn't want more pain killers. It was a good sign that he wouldn't end up dependent. The poor kid had gone through enough without suffering another setback. "Okay, well, I don't know if you're hungry but I've got pancakes and maple syrup, some fruit and some of that yoghurt you like so much." Kirsten placed the tray gently on the bedside table and sat down beside the teenager.
"Yoghurt?" Ryan eyed the pot beside him. "I like cherry flavour?"
Kirsten stammered, briefly forgetting Ryan's fragile mental state. "Oh, yes. You said it was all they ever had at the 7/11 in Chino. I guess it must have reminded you of home."
Ryan nodded, mutely. He considered what would happen if he were to take a spoonful right now. Would it transport him back to another time and place? Or perhaps it would unleash a torrent of memories that would affect one another in a domino effect and he'd become a whole person again. With a shudder, Ryan wondered whether every household object would be loaded with meaning. On one level it was a terrifying thought that, just as it had been brutally torn from him, his life could be returned in one alarming everyday activity. He could be 'Ryan Atwood' eating toast one minute and then Ryan Atwood the next, complete with surround sound memories and a life he got the feeling would be better forgotten.
"Ryan? You okay?" Kirsten asked, noticing the distant look on the boy's face. She feared she'd said the wrong thing, only troubling him further when she had wanted to help.
"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…weird," Ryan attempted a small smile, unable to articulate his muddled thoughts further.
Kirsten helped him out, "You mean, that I know more about you than you do?"
"I guess."
Her hand reached out to touch his arm and Ryan winced involuntarily when her fingers pressed on a still raw bruise. Kirsten quickly pulled away. "I'm sorry. Listen, Ryan, it'll be okay. Everything will come back. You just need time and that's something we've got plenty of. Okay?"
"Yeah." Ryan nodded, her words washing over him like water off a duck's back – never touching him. For a moment their eyes met and he felt a chill run through him once more, just as he had done in the hospital. Something unsettled him about Kirsten, but Ryan couldn't figure out where this dissention stemmed from. Did he have good reason to feel conflicted by her presence? She was looking after him and he knew she meant well but there was more to it than met the eye. She had the look of someone guilty.
Kirsten felt uncomfortable under the teenager's opaque gaze, as if he were searching for her soul, delving deep under the surface. "Okay, well, is there anything else I can get for you?"
Ryan drew away, realising how hard he had he been looking. "No, thanks. I think Sam got it pretty much covered."
"Seth," Kirsten gently corrected.
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to force the information to stay in his head, as if he were afraid it would escape through the windows of his eyes. "Seth. God, I can't even get that right and he was my best friend."
"Seth IS your best friend. He's not going anywhere, none of us are. Just don't force yourself before you're ready." Kirsten offered a short smile, not as friendly as it had been earlier, but Ryan knew he had unnerved her. Not knowing what else to say, he let her go.
"Do you want to come in?" Seth asked, dropping down from Marissa's jeep onto the tarmac outside his house.
Marissa eyed the Cohen home for a moment, weighing up the potential awkwardness which might await her inside. "I don't know." She caught Seth's knowing expression and quickly added, "Okay, just for a minute. Just to say hi."
Locking the car, the pair made their way to the front door, looking more like they were going to their deaths than home. "Hey mom!" Seth called, grateful to see his mother's blonde hair peaking up over the sofa. She would diffuse the situation for them all. "Where's Ryan?"
Kirsten lifted her head from the newspaper she was perusing. "Hi, Marissa. Ryan's in the pool house."
Seth nodded. "Is he up for visitors?"
"I'm sure he'd like that. Don't wake him if he's asleep though."
The two teenagers approached the pool house with trepidation and found Ryan sitting on the foot of the bed, the Playstation console in his hand. Seth was relieved to see that his friend was looking marginally better than he had done a few days earlier.
"Hey man! Ah, I see you're partaking of the good electronic fruits." Seth plonked himself down on the bed beside him, failing to notice the way Ryan winced with the bouncing of the mattress beneath his friend's weight. Seth watched the television screen avidly, "Go for a roundhouse and take that guy down!" Ryan failed miserably, his dexterity less than what it used to be. "Oh dude!" Seth exclaimed as fake blood filled the screen and Ryan's hero died a sticky death at the hands of the game's hoodlums.
Ryan looked up, noticing Marissa for the first time. "Hi, Marissa," Ryan said, emphasising her name just a little as if he were proud to remember it. After momentarily forgetting Seth's name earlier, he was feeling a bit sensitive. The last thing he wanted to do was insult the people who seemed to be closest to him by failing to even remember what they were called.
"Hi. How are you?" Marissa asked politely.
"Good, I guess," Ryan replied, a small smile curling his lip. They all knew that wasn't the truth but now wasn't the time for pouring his heart out to anyone, especially not Marissa. "How was school?"
Seth cut in, "Jeez, you sound like my dad! School's school and, believe me, you're better off not remembering it. But don't worry, you'll be back there soon enough." Not looking up at his friends, he restarted the level Ryan had been on, leaving Marissa and Ryan to make stilted conversation.
Marissa kept trying to focus on Ryan's face but her eyes constantly wandered to the stitched cut slicing up across his temple and the purple bruise surrounding it. She couldn't help wondering if that was the culprit – why he couldn't remember anything. Blows to the head were notorious, especially near the sensitive temple area. "So…" she began, tailing off as she realised she had nothing to say.
Ryan didn't know how to help her out. He wished he understood what their relationship had been. It was like being in limbo. He was half grateful that Marissa didn't launch herself at him in a flurry of kisses. He didn't want anyone touching him right now, let alone expecting affection back. Yet, against his will, Ryan was drawn to her, the power of attraction battling for supremacy over his broken, lonely spirit.
"How does it feel to be out of hospital?" Marissa struggled for a common subject.
"Pretty good. It's nice to be free of the needles and a companion every time I want to go to the bathroom. Not to mention the snoring guy two beds along." Ryan tried to joke, lighten the oppressive mood which was descending on them like a smog cloud.
Marissa laughed, "Sounds bad. So, does it feel different? I mean, do you…remember anything yet?" She asked haltingly, afraid that it might be pushing Ryan too hard.
Ryan felt a surge of irritation bubbling to the surface. Every time he saw anyone, that question came as certainly as night follows day. He just wished there wasn't so much pressure. It was as if the second his mind cleared long enough to let his brain heal itself, someone came along to force him back into a state of muddled guilt that he wasn't improving fast enough.
He offered Marissa a curt shake of the head, biting back his growing annoyance. Marissa, seemingly oblivious to the minefield she was now walking on, continued, "It'll come. Maybe you need a knock on the head like in those cartoons to make it all come back."
Ryan tried to tune out her incessant words and think about something else, but Marissa's eyes kept travelling to the stitches in his forehead and only made him more angry. Finally, he blurted out, "Stop it! Just stop, all right! Jesus, can't you just leave it alone? I don't know when I'll be better – maybe never. Maybe my life will never come back to me."
Marissa blushed in embarrassment, fumbling for words to back track with. Seth had stopped his game was staring at Ryan in disbelief. He had never seen such an outburst of frustration. Marissa stammered, "I'm sorry, I didn't think…"
"No, you didn't think at all! God, do you have any idea what this is like for me? I can't remember you or this house or anyone in it! Seth's my best friend and this morning I couldn't even remember his name!" He stopped suddenly, trying to regain control of his emotions before he hit something…or someone. "Just go! Both of you."
Marissa backed towards the door, speechless. Seth looked taken aback but more crestfallen. Whether it was the fact that he had been kicked out or that Ryan hadn't remembered his name, Ryan wasn't sure. All he knew was that he needed to be alone. He waited until he heard the pool house door close behind them before pulling the blind down, purposefully blocking the world and all its arrogant sunshine out. Ryan just wanted to be left to his wretched, dark world.
End of Part 9
A/N See! He's out of hospital! I did it! Do you want him to stay out though? I've got a few ideas up my sleeve for putting him back there - or have you had enough of bedside manners?
Now click that little box down there on the left. Yeah, that's the one...