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!

2.

"Shit, I wish the stuff worked better," Ryan says, his words still clear.

Sandy can't believe he actually did this, getting a teenager drunk so that he can loosen up a little and hopefully start talking, and he knows he's going to hell for it, but if it works, it'll be worth it.

Ryan has never been like any other teenager Sandy has known, and clearly, the situation calls for unorthodox methods.

It can't be a good thing that Ryan needs alcohol to start talking; certainly, it's yet another sign that the kid is shutting everyone out, but Sandy will worry about that later. One problem at a time, Kirsten would say, and when she's not sinking into depression, she's a wise woman whose advice Sandy treasures.

So, part one of the plan, getting Ryan drunk, is working.

Hoping part two will be equally successful, Sandy waits, prays that the alcohol won't make Ryan black out before he reaches the talking stage, and wonders if Ryan will ever forgive Sandy for the hangover.

"I tried to kill him," Ryan says at last.

He sounds surprised and sad and defeated, and Sandy schools his face into neutrality mere seconds before Ryan sends one of his trademark sideways glances his way.

Ryan goes on talking, incoherently, about AJ and Trey and a man named John and another named Pedro, and how Ryan, deep down, is really no better than these jerks.

Ryan talks about how he feels angry all the time when he thinks about his family, how he can't control himself anymore, and the unspoken, "Will you still love me after all this?" causes Sandy to put a hand on Ryan's shoulder.

Lawyer-like, because at this point, Ryan needs cold facts and not cuddling, Sandy asks, "Did you ever want to hit Seth?"

Ryan looks horrified at the mere thought.

"Did you ever want to hit me? Or Kirsten? Did you ever try to rape someone? Did you even think of raping someone?"

There are tears running down Ryan's cheeks as he shakes his head.

Sandy knows that "You're a good kid who had a crappy life," probably won't work here. So, he opts for the truth.

"Yes, you attacked Trey. And I'm sure that Marissa was only one of the reasons why you did it. And we'll need to talk about that, eventually, and these classes of anger management we never made you attend because you didn't seem ready?"

Ryan isn't crying anymore, just listening, eyes downcast. Sandy goes on, "Screw ready, free your Monday afternoons."

Ryan almost smiles. Almost.

So Sandy goes on talking, trying to find the right words—the words that will convince Ryan that he's still the same boy he was last month, even though he's not, and that he will always be loved here.

Ryan falls asleep halfway through Sandy's tirade, his head rolling on Sandy's shoulder, the bottle still clutched in one hand, and for the first time in days, Sandy feels hopeful.