Title : Flashback
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : What was Ryan thinking while he and Sandy waited for Trey, during The Brothers Grim?
Spoilers : Everything up to The Brothers Grim.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
As usual, thanks to my beta, Joey :)
Flashback
Helen C.
There are two thoughts competing for Ryan's attention as he waits for Trey.
One: his life is going to change again. Whether the change will be good or bad remains to be discovered, but the change itself is inevitable.
Two: prison is a bubble.
It's an isolated territory, where contacts with the outside world are reduced to a bare minimum, where very little happens and where every deviation from the routine, no matter how slight, becomes an exciting event.
Time in prison drags by.
One minute seems like an hour, one day like a year.
There's just too much time to spend alone, too much time to think, too little privacy, too little autonomy.
No decisions to make, no people to meet. Just time, and very few ways to spend that time.
Ryan remembers all that. He didn't spend a long time in jail—just a few days that seemed like ten years—but that little time was enough for him to learn that he wanted out, now, and never wanted to come back. He remembers the feeling of growing older by the minute; he remembers being surprised when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and saw that his hair hadn't gone gray.
Ryan hates prison.
He has been here for all of ten minutes and he already feels in limbo. Time seems to stand still, and Ryan can almost feel the outside world slipping further away from him with each passing second.
He may have been reluctant to take Sandy with him to Chino, but now, as they're waiting for Trey, he's grateful for the silent support—the comforting presence.
Sandy grounds him, reminds him that there's a life waiting for him outside.
Sandy keeps Ryan from balking, which Ryan is sure he would have done by now, had he been alone—his stomach is tied up in painful knots, his palms are sweaty, his fingers cold, his heart pumping fast.
This place is taking him back to a time in his past he had hoped to never revisit.
This place is all about failure, danger and silent humiliation.
Ryan has to focus to control his urge to flee. He's convinced that someone will walk up to him and say that he has to stay in here. "Sorry, you need to serve your time after all. Too many screw ups in Newport; what were you thinking, kid?"
Ryan breathes in. And out.
And in. And out.
He looks at the ceiling. At the tiles on the floor.
He looks at Sandy, who, despite his dark suit, is the only spot of color in all this gray.
Ryan was less nervous last time he visited Trey.
But then, last time, while he knew that Trey would ask him a favor, he also suspected what would happen. Trey would ask something, Ryan would do whatever it was, and that would be the end of it.
Now, Trey is coming out. If he wants to ask a thousand favors from Ryan, he'll be able to do so. And even if he doesn't, he's bound to change the relationship Ryan shares with the Cohens.
Ryan is thrilled that his brother is finally getting out. He has missed him; he has missed the brotherly arguing, the brotherly camaraderie, even the brotherly fights. Seth just isn't the same. Seth hasn't known Ryan for sixteen years; Seth hasn't shared Ryan's troubled home life.
Ryan and Trey's relationship was changing fast before they were arrested. Ryan was learning to stand his ground, to say "no" to his brother. Trey may have been more experienced, but Ryan was smarter, and he didn't take Trey's word for everything anymore.
But despite all that, they were still brothers. They still knew each other by heart, knew each other's mannerism, each other's quirks, strengths and weaknesses.
Ryan has missed having Trey in his corner, no questions asked, no explanations needed, just because brothers stick together.
Ryan wants Trey in his life.
But he's also a little scared of him.
Trey has been spiraling out of control for a while now, has grown more dangerous, more reckless, more like their father, less like the boy Ryan played with in the streets of Chino until it was dark outside, until the public lighting was turned on, and they had no choice but to go home.
Ryan hates himself for even thinking about it, but what if Trey screws up Ryan's new life? What if he tries to take advantage of the Cohens? What if he asks Ryan to do something illegal, something dangerous?
Where will Ryan's loyalties lie then?
With the people who gave him a chance, or with the guy who has had his back for as long as Ryan can remember?
Ryan's eyes are still doing their little dance—up, down, sideways, and back up—until they fall on a kid who is placing a call. Blue jeans, blue shirt, bad haircut, young and vulnerable. Looking like Ryan, twenty months ago. Looking like Ryan now, really.
Ryan was that kid.
Ryan should be the one who's getting out of juvie right about now.
And for what seems like the ten thousandth time, he wonders why he was the one Sandy saved.
Why him, and not one of the other hundred kids Sandy has worked with?
Why him, and not someone who has had it even worse?
Why him, and not someone less able to defend himself?
What did he ever do to deserve this kind of luck?
"Flashback?" Sandy asks gently.
Ryan nods, because it's easier than asking why Sandy took him home.
"Seems like a hundred years since I got you out of juvie," Sandy observes.
The comment takes Ryan aback—to him, it seems like only a few seconds passed.
But when he takes time to reflect on what happened in Newport in those short months—the shifts in alliances, the new relationships, the falls from grace, the comings and goings—Ryan thinks that Sandy is right after all.
When he thinks about Theresa and the baby, and the long summer working construction in Chino, it does, indeed, seem like an eternity.
An eternity Ryan should have spent between these walls, with nothing to do but exercise and possibly read, and think, think, and then think some more.
He shivers. "And he's been in here the whole time," he says. Wondering how Trey survived that, because Ryan is already feeling slightly claustrophobic, and he has only been here for fifteen minutes.
Hard as it may be, life in Newport at least has colors. It has warmth, and kindness, and comfort. All these things that make life worth living, that make bad days bearable.
In here, everything is gray, colorless, concrete and metal, naked walls, harsh lights, hard people.
Ryan shakes his head. He's exaggerating. This is just his fear of prison talking. Or, for Trey's sake, he hopes so.
"Why me?" he wonders again. "Why, Sandy?"
But he doesn't ask, because he's not sure he'd like the answer—assuming there even is an answer.
Ryan used to question good fortune, for being lucky wasn't something that happened to him. To friends, to Trey, to anyone else, sure. But not to him.
In this case, however, Ryan has never dared to question the Cohens' decision to take him in. It just happened, and Ryan lives with it and enjoys it while it lasts.
He fears that, someday, someone will realize that there has been a mistake, that Ryan doesn't deserve what he has now.
He fears that one day, life will go back to the way it always was.
Ryan and Trey, alone against the world.
Or, even worse, Ryan alone.
As Trey arrives and Ryan approaches him, uncertain and awkward, he hopes that that time has not come yet.
END