I meant to get this up sooner, but then I took what I had written and completely erased it all and rewrote it. So sorry about that, but the good news is by me doing that it's going to be at least one more chapter longer than I had originally going to have it be. So there's that, at least. Also so much is happening, we're figuring out housing, and registration starts tomorrow (I'm starting to ask myself who I pissed off that all the classes I need are all at the same time. I mean seriously, ALL the classes are at the same time. What the hell! Someone explain that to me), and then of course St. Patrick's day had me celebrating being Irish…quite a bit actually, and now I'm rambling and I'm sorry. Enjoy! And please review!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Truly I don't.
Sandy held his wife as she sobbed into his arms. He was in a state of shock.
His son was dead.
"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen?" The police officer said gently. "Whenever you are ready we're going to need for you to come down to the hospital and sign some papers." Papers. Papers that said her son was dead. Kirsten's head was spinning.
I want to go back.
It was on a constant loop through her brain. She would have gladly taken the bad with the good in this world, she would have gladly accepted the bad things that came with Ryan being her son.
But she would not accept this. There had to be some way to go back. Some way to go back to where Ryan was living. Crappy past or Cohen past, she just needed Ryan to be okay. Maybe she wasn't supposed to be his mother, maybe her and Sandy were simply supposed to help him in the years that he had left in childhood. Maybe she had wished for too much, wanted too much, and this was her punishment.
Punish me, she begged silently to whatever deity would listen. Bring Ryan back, and punish me.
Sandy helped her to her feet, and Kirsten got control of herself.
"We need to call Seth," she said quietly. Sandy didn't make a move towards the phone, allowing Kirsten instead to take it and dial Seth's number.
"Hello?" Seth answered, and his voice sounded annoyed. Annoyed that his parents were once again calling him to see if Ryan left. Like he was his brother's keeper. Summer asked who it was and Seth mouthed that it was his parents again with a roll of the eye.
"Seth," Kirsten's voice was barely above a whisper and Seth knew that something was wrong. Very wrong.
"Mom? What's wrong?"
"Seth, I need you to come home," Kirsten said. She couldn't tell him over the phone. Couldn't tell him that his brother was dead. That her son was dead.
"Mom? What's the matter?" Seth repeated. Next to him, Summer looked at him confused, and mouthed, "What's wrong?" Seth just shook his head.
"Seth, I can't…not over the phone…"
"Did something happen to Ryan, Mom?" Seth questioned. He was answered with silence, and he knew that he had been right. Something was the matter with Ryan.
"Please…"
"I'm coming home," Seth promised.
"Be careful," Kirsten said. She couldn't lose both sons. She wouldn't be able to handle that. She would simply fall apart.
"I will, I'll be home." Kirsten hung up the phone with shaking hands.
"What caused the accident?" Sandy asked finally coming out of his state of shock.
"It seems that he swerved into the other lane, and ran into an 18 wheeler," the officer said.
"Why would he do that?" Sandy asked accusingly as if it was the police officer's fault that Ryan was dead. As if Sandy just needed someone, anyone to blame, and the police officer was the nearest person. Why would Ryan do something like that? Kirsten knew the answer, and she knew that her husband knew the answer too.
He had been drinking. He had been drinking and driving. Hadn't they just lectured him the week before about drinking and driving?
They should have gone to get him at Luke's. They should have gone instead of letting him come home on his own.
This was her fault. Their fault. They screwed up and now he was dead.
"It seems that he had been drinking, sir," the officer answered. Her son was now going to the example that they taught to the local high school kids. Don't drink and drive. Ryan Cohen drank and drove. Ryan Cohen is dead.
He was a statistic now.
Kirsten didn't know how long it took Seth to get home, she knew that when the door opened and he stepped in, she threw her arms around him.
Her living son.
One dead, one living son.
This wasn't fair. This wasn't right.
I want to go back.
"What happened to Ryan?" Seth asked immediately.
"He was in a car accident, honey," Kirsten said still with her arms tightly around him. She was making sure that she still heard his heartbeat. That he was still alive. Seth pulled back slightly, and his face was pale.
"Is he okay?" He asked. Kirsten and Sandy said nothing, and Kirsten turned her head away and wiped away a tear. "Oh God. Oh God. Oh God." Seth bolted towards the first floor powder room and Kirsten could hear him retching. Sandy went to check on him, and Kirsten knew that she should too, that the three of them had to stick together, but she couldn't make her legs move. Instead she stood there, her hand to her mouth, and the police officers stood across from her, uncomfortably looking around the large house, and reminding themselves to go home and check on their own kids and to lecture them on being responsible about drinking.
When Sandy and Seth emerged from the bathroom, they followed the cops out to the cruiser and climbed in. None of the Cohens trusted themselves to drive. They arrived at the hospital, and Sandy wrapped his arm around his wife and son, and Kirsten was immensely grateful for the support. She didn't think she could walk on her own. The doctor told them that they could see the body, say goodbye. Kirsten didn't know if she wanted to do that. She didn't know if she wanted to make it so final, but she didn't know if she couldn't. She needed to touch his face one more time. Seth and Sandy had both said that they would like that, and Kirsten found that to be a funny choice of words. They would like to see the body of their son and brother. They would like that.
She wouldn't like that. She didn't like anything at that point. No, she wouldn't like that, and she didn't want to see the body, but she had to.
"It's my fault," Seth suddenly whispered as they made their way down the cold and sterile hall.
"What are you talking about?" Sandy asked.
"I let him leave. I knew that he had been drinking. I knew it, and still let him walk away. It's my fault. I just figured…you guys were so mad anyway, and I didn't think that he had that much…and now…" Seth stopped and began to sob into his hands.
Ryan was dead, and there needed to be a reason, someone to blame. Instead of blaming each other, they were blaming themselves. Kirsten and Sandy because they could have gone to pick him up, and Seth because he could have stopped him from driving and called his parents instead. But no one mentioned who they were all really blaming.
They all blamed Ryan.
For sneaking out of the house.
For driving home drunk.
For swerving into the other lane.
For being dead.
"It's not your fault," Sandy said to Seth, wrapping his free arm around Seth's shoulders that were now heaving up and down. Sandy was freely and silently crying. Kirsten wondered if they would ever stop crying. Would it ever not hurt like it was hurting now? Would they ever stop blaming themselves? Could they ever forgive Ryan for dying?
I want to go back.
"I don't want to do this," Kirsten said softly.
"You don't have to," Sandy told her, letting go of Seth to envelope her in a hug. He held onto her desperately, and reluctantly let go. "You can stay out here. We'll come out when we're done…." Saying goodbye…. Kirsten finished the sentence in her head. She shook her head vehemently.
"No, I should…I mean, I have to…I mean….God, I don't know what I mean. I can't…I don't…" Sandy wrapped his arms around her again.
"It's okay, I'm here, we're here. We're going to get through this together." But Kirsten didn't want to get through anything. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home where Ryan was still alive. Where this was just a terrible dream. But instead, she just nodded, and took his hand and gave it a squeeze, and then took Seth's hand, and the three walked towards the door behind which her son's body was. Kirsten was sure that she didn't want to do this. She couldn't do this, and yet she found herself moving forward with Sandy and Seth.
It was almost as if her legs were moving her forward without her brain consenting to it. No, her mind screamed, stop! Stop moving forward! But her legs disobeyed until they had reached the door where they would go into and say goodbye to Ryan.
Sandy turned the doorknob and they walked into the room and Kirsten saw the body and her mind and body both froze. She was acutely aware of Seth rushing to the garbage can and throwing up once again, she heard Sandy's cries become louder, as he gasped for breaths.
And then her knees went weak and everything went black.
Okay, sorry that this was a little on the short side, I'm working on the next chapter, I promise, and this seemed like the best place to end this chapter. So go forth and review, and I'd be ever so appreciative. Gracias!
