Title : Doomed
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Ryan feels terrible because he certainly never intended to hurt anyone—three 500 words drabbles, post The Dearly Beloved.
Spoilers : Everything up to The Dearly Beloved.
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.
Huge thanks to my beta, Joey51!
Doomed
by Helen
1.
Every discussion Ryan has with Sandy follows the same pattern, ever since the-night-when-the-Atwood-brothers-went-berserk.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
Or,
"If you want to talk—"
"Yeah. Thanks."
And Ryan beats a hasty retreat, leaving Sandy standing there, looking frustrated and lost and more than a little hurt, and Ryan feels terrible because he certainly never intended to hurt anyone, but apparently, Atwoods can't help hurting people.
There was a year of drama, culminating with Theresa and a baby, and now, another year later, there's this, which is even worse and more devastating.
Ryan just wants Sandy to go back to being dorky and gently inquisitive, instead of being this wreck of worry and pain. What would Sandy say, if he knew everything?
Ryan has told Sandy that he and Trey got into a fight, and that, yes, Ryan instigated it, and that it got out of hand.
He knows he should have said, "I got out of hand."
After years of controlling it, Ryan unleashed all his rage, all his anger, all his pent-up frustration on Trey. And he doesn't sleep at night anymore, because he knows that if Trey hadn't gotten the upper hand, Ryan wouldn't have stopped hitting until Trey was dead.
For two years, Ryan actually allowed himself to believe that he could be someone different—someone better than the rest of his family, someone who didn't beat the shit out of anyone else, for any reason.
Even Luke and Oliver didn't shatter this newfound hope.
After all, Sandy is a trustworthy guy, and if he said that Ryan wasn't doomed to become another selfish, abusive monster, then, certainly, he was right.
Except, obviously, he was wrong, and Ryan will never, ever tell him that. He can stand Sandy looking disappointed, hurt, disapproving, but he couldn't stand Sandy looking scared of him, and he certainly couldn't stand it if Sandy tried to distance himself and his family from Ryan and Ryan's anger and Ryan's Issues—all the ugly issues he carries with him everywhere he goes—and Ryan's violent tendencies.
When he looks at his reflection now, Ryan doesn't see himself anymore. He sees Trey, his father, Dawn and every single fucking boyfriend she ever brought home. Ryan used to think of them as losers, bullies, and now he feels dirty and ashamed at having joined the club of the abusive jerks.
His thoughts are whirling in his head, the gun, the smirk on Trey's face, the desperation in his eyes, the shock when Ryan screamed and lunged at him, the fury that followed.
He'd do anything to stop the endless spiral.
So, when Sandy comes into the poolhouse, carrying a bottle of whiskey, Ryan laughs a little and asks, "Are you serious?" And when it appears as though Sandy is, indeed, serious, Ryan grabs the bottle and takes a healthy swallow without even bothering with a glass. He tries not to be proud that he doesn't even choke, and prays for oblivion.