Silverweaver wants to beat me with a stick and storymom is going to rip my
innards out and feed them to her bear because I haven't updated sooner.
You two really know the way to my heart. I can feel the love. I'm basking
in the afterglow of love.
Josh, thanks for sharing the love. In case of any lawsuit I will claim a mental defect. I own nothing.
Chapter Five
Sandy threw the pen across his office. Two and a half weeks... 18 days... It was as if Ryan fell off the face of the earth. The private investigator hadn't found a trace of the boy anywhere. Kids don't just disappear without a trace.
Sandy knew that wasn't true.
Kids did vanish.
Every day.
Every disappearance was one too many.
For every kid found, scores remained lost. Now his kid, Ryan Atwood, biological son of Dawn and Dave, son by choice of Sandy and Kirsten, biological brother of Trey, brother by choice of Seth, was a statistic.
He'd become the very thing Sandy tried to protect him from. A moment of uncontrolled anger and frenzy from Sandy the guardian, Sandy the father figure, did more damage to Ryan than all the years of abuse he'd endured at the hands of others who "loved" him.
Guilt was now turning to anger.
Guilt looked inward.
Anger looked out.
Guilt was self-defeating.
Anger could be channeled.
Anger could be focused. Directed at finding a missing 17 year old, hauling his ass back home and making him believe that he is a vital part of the Cohen family. Making him believe he is loved as their son.
Sandy stood up and walked out of his office. He knocked on Rachel's door. She looked up, surprised to see the devastated look that Sandy had been wearing replaced by a look of determination.
"I'm taking a leave of absence. You can either grant it or I quit. Either way I'm leaving..."
Rachel came from around her desk and sat on the corner of it, her arms folded across her chest.
"I'll re-assign your cases. You'll owe everyone big-time when you get back..."
She reached out and touched Sandy's arm.
"Bring Ryan home..."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seth tied the rigging, keeping the sails at half mast. He leaned back and closed his eyes, content to drift as far as the anchor would allow. He was able to force himself from dwelling on the fight with Ryan and was now filling his brain with thoughts of how to make it up to him. He was getting a lot of practice ingratiating himself to Summer. Obeisant was now his middle name. Summer made it perfectly clear that her forgiveness couldn't be bought. He'd have to earn it. Slowly. Painfully.
At least she was talking to him. Not as much as she was talking to his mother, but at least she acknowledged his presence. If his mother wasn't so worried about Ryan's safety, Seth's mental state and his dad's... well, just his dad, he'd swear his mother and Summer were in cahoots to keep him groveling at Summer's very pretty, Jimmy Choo'ed feet.
The same feet that threatened to kick his ass in Vegas. The same feet that he tickled in the hotel room after getting rid of Ryan's "oh, so last year's trucker hat" that he won playing poker, or rather "playing" the angry guy wearing the trucker hat.
Ryan would have to teach him how to count cards when he came back.
Steve Sebolski and Marty Nevis would clean up in the Vegas.
Seth/Steve would provide the initial stake and Ryan/Marty would bring his card counting abilities...
Seth shot straight up. It was literally an "Aha! Light bulb over the head moment..."
They couldn't locate Ryan Atwood, but maybe they could find Marty Nevis.
Seth pulled up the anchor and raised the sails. He had to get a hold of his father...
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Throughout this whole ordeal, Kirsten and Summer got to know each other quite well. Summer timed her visits so Kirsten would be home and she could keep an eye on Seth while talking to his mother. She was almost ready to let Seth off the hook. Somebody mindfucked him and mindfucked him good. It had to have been someone he trusted or had no reason to distrust. She had a good idea as to whom it might have been, but she couldn't come up with a reason why. Sure Marissa was pissed at Chino, but it's not like guys weren't lined up to go out with her. She could have her pick of anyone she wanted...
Kirsten set a cup of tea in front of Summer and sat down on the sofa with her own . She enjoyed these visits with Summer and it gave her an insight into her son's girlfriend. She suspected she wasn't the only one who had underestimated the girl. There was more to Summer Roberts than hair, boobs and nails.
Summer had her life planned out and nothing was going to get in her way. She even had Seth's life planned out. The only thing her son would get to pick was his university major. Now she listened as Summer told of her plans for classes at Temple Beth Israel with Seth.
"Seth has never mentioned anything to us about exploring the Jewish faith. I mean he had his Bar Mitzvah, but..."
Summer curled up on the other sofa.
"He didn't say a lot to me either, but I watched him as he listened to Mr. Cohen read the Nana's Haggadah on Passover. It was like something clicked for him... I felt it too. My mother's great grandfather was Jewish. It sort of ended with him. It's like a piece of me is missing. I've got this heritage and I want it back... I was thinking about being a "Shiksa" like you, but now..."
Kirsten raised an eyebrow.
"Actually, the only one who has ever referred to me as a "Shiksa is Sandy's mother. I know she was hoping he would have settled down with a "nice Jewish girl", without the "hair and the nails" and who did something more meaningful with her life than build homes for the wealthy and sleep on 700 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets..."
Now it was Summer's turn to raise an eyebrow.
Kirsten shrugged.
"You had to be there..." Referring to when Sandy frantically pulled her expensive sheets off the bed, hoping to replace them with burlap so the Nana wouldn't think they were spendthrifts.
"Ryan will come home..." Summer leaned forward and hugged Kirsten.
"He'll get it through his head that he's a part of this family... Even if I have to drag him back kicking and screaming. I'm not going to let his stubbornness get in the way of the best thing that ever happened to him."
Kirsten allowed herself to smile. Summer was a force to be reckoned with. Seth didn't stand a chance.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Ryan fought the urge to flop face down on the bed. He still had to jump in the shower and then take a bus to see an apartment.
Roger was a tough boss. He demanded a lot, but he treated his employees with respect. He never once made Ryan feel like he was a charity case. Ryan was one of the crew and now thanks to 12 hour workdays, he had enough money to put down first and last months rent on a small apartment. Captain Matthews tried to convince him to stay out the rest of the 30 days he was allowed at the shelter. Ryan appreciated everything the Captain had done for him, but the nights at the shelter left him too much time to think.
To think about what might have been.
Ryan couldn't afford to look back.
All that mattered was the next few hours.
His life had been reduced to living for small fragments of time. Anything else was too painful. He had to travel light. No room for excess baggage.
An hour later, Ryan stood in front of a tidy looking 2 storey house. He double checked the house number with the information written down on a piece of paper.
This was it.
Swallowing hard, he walked up to the door and knocked. A man in his late 30's answered the door. Before Ryan could say a word a loud voice echoed through the house.
"I'm going to kick ass first and take names later!!!"
The man waited a split second and then smiled.
"Don't worry.... It's her bite you have to be scared of... It's much worse than her bark..."
Ryan didn't know what to say. Thankfully the man asked what he could do for him.
"I'm, uh.... I'm... Marty Nevis... Greg Ogden gave me your name about an apartment for rent..."
"Yeah, I'm Will Murray..." He stuck out his hand and Ryan shook it.
"How do you know Greg?"
"I, uh... work with Greg... for, uh...." (Suck it up sentences aren't a foreign concept...) "I work with Greg at Van Der Hylsma Construction."
The door opened again. Will looked up.
"Hon, this is Marty Nevis. Greg told him about the apartment. Marty... This is my wife, Mandy."
Ryan offered her a tentative half-smile.
The apartment was small, neat, furnished and most importantly, in his price range. The Murrays were asking $100 per week. The rent was manageable on his wages.
This was another step further from his past
Another step closer to tomorrow.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seth ran in the front door, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Running was so not his sport. Halo 2? That was a sport.
Kirsten came out from the kitchen.
"Seth... What's..."
"Mom? Is dad here?" Seth struggled to take in a deep breath.
"He's in his office talking to the private investigator. What is it?"
"Dad!" Seth yelled. "D-A-A-A-D!!"
Kirsten became concerned.
"Seth! Sweetie, calm down..."
Sandy came running out of his office, followed by John Rueben. As soon as Seth saw his father, he pulled out his wallet, fumbling through an assortment of cards. He pulled one out and handed it to his dad.
Sandy took the proffered card. He studied it.
"Who is Steve Sebolski and what is your face doing on his ID card?"
I"ll explain later, dad, but Ryan has one too. Maybe we should stop looking for Ryan Atwood and start looking for Marty Nevis..."
Josh, thanks for sharing the love. In case of any lawsuit I will claim a mental defect. I own nothing.
Chapter Five
Sandy threw the pen across his office. Two and a half weeks... 18 days... It was as if Ryan fell off the face of the earth. The private investigator hadn't found a trace of the boy anywhere. Kids don't just disappear without a trace.
Sandy knew that wasn't true.
Kids did vanish.
Every day.
Every disappearance was one too many.
For every kid found, scores remained lost. Now his kid, Ryan Atwood, biological son of Dawn and Dave, son by choice of Sandy and Kirsten, biological brother of Trey, brother by choice of Seth, was a statistic.
He'd become the very thing Sandy tried to protect him from. A moment of uncontrolled anger and frenzy from Sandy the guardian, Sandy the father figure, did more damage to Ryan than all the years of abuse he'd endured at the hands of others who "loved" him.
Guilt was now turning to anger.
Guilt looked inward.
Anger looked out.
Guilt was self-defeating.
Anger could be channeled.
Anger could be focused. Directed at finding a missing 17 year old, hauling his ass back home and making him believe that he is a vital part of the Cohen family. Making him believe he is loved as their son.
Sandy stood up and walked out of his office. He knocked on Rachel's door. She looked up, surprised to see the devastated look that Sandy had been wearing replaced by a look of determination.
"I'm taking a leave of absence. You can either grant it or I quit. Either way I'm leaving..."
Rachel came from around her desk and sat on the corner of it, her arms folded across her chest.
"I'll re-assign your cases. You'll owe everyone big-time when you get back..."
She reached out and touched Sandy's arm.
"Bring Ryan home..."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seth tied the rigging, keeping the sails at half mast. He leaned back and closed his eyes, content to drift as far as the anchor would allow. He was able to force himself from dwelling on the fight with Ryan and was now filling his brain with thoughts of how to make it up to him. He was getting a lot of practice ingratiating himself to Summer. Obeisant was now his middle name. Summer made it perfectly clear that her forgiveness couldn't be bought. He'd have to earn it. Slowly. Painfully.
At least she was talking to him. Not as much as she was talking to his mother, but at least she acknowledged his presence. If his mother wasn't so worried about Ryan's safety, Seth's mental state and his dad's... well, just his dad, he'd swear his mother and Summer were in cahoots to keep him groveling at Summer's very pretty, Jimmy Choo'ed feet.
The same feet that threatened to kick his ass in Vegas. The same feet that he tickled in the hotel room after getting rid of Ryan's "oh, so last year's trucker hat" that he won playing poker, or rather "playing" the angry guy wearing the trucker hat.
Ryan would have to teach him how to count cards when he came back.
Steve Sebolski and Marty Nevis would clean up in the Vegas.
Seth/Steve would provide the initial stake and Ryan/Marty would bring his card counting abilities...
Seth shot straight up. It was literally an "Aha! Light bulb over the head moment..."
They couldn't locate Ryan Atwood, but maybe they could find Marty Nevis.
Seth pulled up the anchor and raised the sails. He had to get a hold of his father...
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Throughout this whole ordeal, Kirsten and Summer got to know each other quite well. Summer timed her visits so Kirsten would be home and she could keep an eye on Seth while talking to his mother. She was almost ready to let Seth off the hook. Somebody mindfucked him and mindfucked him good. It had to have been someone he trusted or had no reason to distrust. She had a good idea as to whom it might have been, but she couldn't come up with a reason why. Sure Marissa was pissed at Chino, but it's not like guys weren't lined up to go out with her. She could have her pick of anyone she wanted...
Kirsten set a cup of tea in front of Summer and sat down on the sofa with her own . She enjoyed these visits with Summer and it gave her an insight into her son's girlfriend. She suspected she wasn't the only one who had underestimated the girl. There was more to Summer Roberts than hair, boobs and nails.
Summer had her life planned out and nothing was going to get in her way. She even had Seth's life planned out. The only thing her son would get to pick was his university major. Now she listened as Summer told of her plans for classes at Temple Beth Israel with Seth.
"Seth has never mentioned anything to us about exploring the Jewish faith. I mean he had his Bar Mitzvah, but..."
Summer curled up on the other sofa.
"He didn't say a lot to me either, but I watched him as he listened to Mr. Cohen read the Nana's Haggadah on Passover. It was like something clicked for him... I felt it too. My mother's great grandfather was Jewish. It sort of ended with him. It's like a piece of me is missing. I've got this heritage and I want it back... I was thinking about being a "Shiksa" like you, but now..."
Kirsten raised an eyebrow.
"Actually, the only one who has ever referred to me as a "Shiksa is Sandy's mother. I know she was hoping he would have settled down with a "nice Jewish girl", without the "hair and the nails" and who did something more meaningful with her life than build homes for the wealthy and sleep on 700 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets..."
Now it was Summer's turn to raise an eyebrow.
Kirsten shrugged.
"You had to be there..." Referring to when Sandy frantically pulled her expensive sheets off the bed, hoping to replace them with burlap so the Nana wouldn't think they were spendthrifts.
"Ryan will come home..." Summer leaned forward and hugged Kirsten.
"He'll get it through his head that he's a part of this family... Even if I have to drag him back kicking and screaming. I'm not going to let his stubbornness get in the way of the best thing that ever happened to him."
Kirsten allowed herself to smile. Summer was a force to be reckoned with. Seth didn't stand a chance.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Ryan fought the urge to flop face down on the bed. He still had to jump in the shower and then take a bus to see an apartment.
Roger was a tough boss. He demanded a lot, but he treated his employees with respect. He never once made Ryan feel like he was a charity case. Ryan was one of the crew and now thanks to 12 hour workdays, he had enough money to put down first and last months rent on a small apartment. Captain Matthews tried to convince him to stay out the rest of the 30 days he was allowed at the shelter. Ryan appreciated everything the Captain had done for him, but the nights at the shelter left him too much time to think.
To think about what might have been.
Ryan couldn't afford to look back.
All that mattered was the next few hours.
His life had been reduced to living for small fragments of time. Anything else was too painful. He had to travel light. No room for excess baggage.
An hour later, Ryan stood in front of a tidy looking 2 storey house. He double checked the house number with the information written down on a piece of paper.
This was it.
Swallowing hard, he walked up to the door and knocked. A man in his late 30's answered the door. Before Ryan could say a word a loud voice echoed through the house.
"I'm going to kick ass first and take names later!!!"
The man waited a split second and then smiled.
"Don't worry.... It's her bite you have to be scared of... It's much worse than her bark..."
Ryan didn't know what to say. Thankfully the man asked what he could do for him.
"I'm, uh.... I'm... Marty Nevis... Greg Ogden gave me your name about an apartment for rent..."
"Yeah, I'm Will Murray..." He stuck out his hand and Ryan shook it.
"How do you know Greg?"
"I, uh... work with Greg... for, uh...." (Suck it up sentences aren't a foreign concept...) "I work with Greg at Van Der Hylsma Construction."
The door opened again. Will looked up.
"Hon, this is Marty Nevis. Greg told him about the apartment. Marty... This is my wife, Mandy."
Ryan offered her a tentative half-smile.
The apartment was small, neat, furnished and most importantly, in his price range. The Murrays were asking $100 per week. The rent was manageable on his wages.
This was another step further from his past
Another step closer to tomorrow.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seth ran in the front door, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Running was so not his sport. Halo 2? That was a sport.
Kirsten came out from the kitchen.
"Seth... What's..."
"Mom? Is dad here?" Seth struggled to take in a deep breath.
"He's in his office talking to the private investigator. What is it?"
"Dad!" Seth yelled. "D-A-A-A-D!!"
Kirsten became concerned.
"Seth! Sweetie, calm down..."
Sandy came running out of his office, followed by John Rueben. As soon as Seth saw his father, he pulled out his wallet, fumbling through an assortment of cards. He pulled one out and handed it to his dad.
Sandy took the proffered card. He studied it.
"Who is Steve Sebolski and what is your face doing on his ID card?"
I"ll explain later, dad, but Ryan has one too. Maybe we should stop looking for Ryan Atwood and start looking for Marty Nevis..."