Sinking, Feeling
Chapter One
"Trey, stop it; You're killing him!"
Ryan could distantly hear the sound of Marissa's voice, as though it were travelling down a long hall and in to an empty room.
It was frantic, though for a moment he couldn't imagine why.
The pressure on his neck increased to remind him, Trey's thumb dug in angrily.
It all felt like a dream. As though he weren't being strangled by his only blood brother, but as if he were watching him do it to someone else; powerless to stop it.
Indigo spots began to dance across his vision, blackness seeping in from the sides.
The way his head was pressed against the berber carpet all Ryan could focus on was Trey anyways.
His brother. His family.
But Trey wasn't looking at him. Trey wouldn't meet his eyes.
The pressure relented for a moment and Ryan could hear a gutteral growl escape from his brother's lips. Like an animal in danger. For a brief moment Ryan's senses returned to him, the scene around him coming in to focus like some sort of misconstrewed reality.
His throat was burning and his eyes were watering.
Blood dripped down the back of his throat, likely meaning his nose was broken.
His face was throbbing, and his fists.
The pressure on his chest; the weight of Trey, was unrelenting.
He could smell the sweat coming from the both of them, mixed with the aroma of copper.
Then the emotion.
Trey tried to rape Marissa. Trey held a gun in his face and lied to him. Again and again.
It only proved how screwed up his family really was.
Trey had been given a second chance, just like Ryan had been given a year and a half ago.
Trey had fucked it up, couldn't hold on to a good thing. Drugs, guns, stealing, parties and girls.
And suddenly there was a deep feeling of guilt about Kirsten. Sending her away after all she had done for him. Noticing her drinking habits but not distinguishing a problem. On purpose. He had hoped that it would go away, that another person he cared about wouldn't fall in to that vicious cycle.
Seth's face flashed across his mind. His tentative face before he'd relayed Ryan the story between Marissa and Trey. The worry.
The pressure on his neck inscreaed again; Trey continued to strangle him no longer distracted by whatever.
Conscience maybe?
Ryan glanced up to try and catch Trey's eye again, but he was still avoiding Ryan's gaze. Instead he held an old telephone over his head.
What was he doing with a phone? Ryan wondered dumbly.
No sooner had he asked that Ryan's midn delivered an answer.
Trey finally met his eyes then. A moment passed between them, both boy gasping for air.
Angry, threatened. Two animals fighting for survival.
I hate you, Ryan couldn't stop the words from crossing his mind.
Trey waited no longer and began to arc the phone down towards Ryan's head. He knew this was it. If the phone hit him with that strength he would surely die.
The moment passed slowly. Ryan closed his eyes in anticipation; attempting to prepare himself to die.
A crack echoed across the room, drumming through his ears.
Trey released his neck, the phone never connected with his skull.
He was confused until his slowed mind identified the sound. A gun.
Had Trey decided to shoot him instead? Was he dead?
Ryan cracked open an eye to see his brother still straddled across his chest. The phone had dropped beside Ryan's head. Trey was pulling at his white T-shirt where blood was rapidly blooming from his chest.
Trey fell to the side, tearing his eyes from something, or someone, across the room.
He inhaled deeply, looking up to see Marissa. He hadn't been imagining her voice after all. She was there. And she was holding a gun, staring at Trey. Her face was full of emotion.
Beside him he could hear Trey gasping painful breaths.
Marissa had shot his brother.
He rolled on to his side, painfully, weezing.
He had to get to Marissa. Had to see if she was okay. Across the room Marissa dropped the gun to the carpet and sank down to the floor herself.
Ryan stumbled to his feet and went to slump beside her, propping himself again the wall.
Each of them were silent, staring at Trey, until footsteps entered their reverie.
Had the police come already?
Ryan glanced up to see Seth and Summer enter the room, both of them breathless, frantic.
"Oh my god" Summer whispered. Then she covered her mouth as though she were sorry for breaking the silence.
"Ryan?" Seth asked, quit himself. Shocked.
Ryan forced himself to meet his foster brother's eyes, but immediately looked away. They were full of fear, questions and silent assumptions.
Ryan knew that he hadn't shot Trey.
marissa knew she had.
They were the only witnesses.
Marissa could end up in jail.
Visions of himself in juvie rolled like a movie through his head. Marissa wouldn't make it in there.
Living in constant fear? It would kill her, they would kill her.
Ryan ground his toes in to the ends of his shoes, he clenched his teeth.
He reached over to take Marissa's unresponsive hand. it was cold.
"Seth" Ryan heard himself rasp, his voice was broken. It was like a dream. And though Ryan wasn't looking at Seth, he knew Seth was paying close attention to him.
"Call the police" he ordered, "And ambulance... now"
A dull ache was forming at the back of Ryan's head, he explored gently at first. A large knot was already forming. He pressed on it firmly.
The pain was so sharp he immediately got dizzy. his vision blurred an his stomach jumped. Ryan withdrew his hand and put it back in his lap, glancing up at Seth.
His hands were shakily dialing the numbers on his phone. Summer was clutching his free arm. Seth put the phone to his ear, the room so silent they could all hear the operator pick up on the other end.
"Yea... I... we.." Seth choked on his own words, his gaze was caught on Trey.
Ryan suddenly remembered they hadn't even bothered checking to see if Trey was alive. Though there was nothing Ryan could have really done for him... if Ryan knew he was dying maybe he would say good bye. But he didn't want to check, didn't dare.
It would offer the concequences of the night full force, squeezing out any hope.
At the entrance to the apartment Summer reached up to pluck the cellphone from Seth's grasp.
"We need an ambulance. And Police. Someone was shot" Summer directed in to the phone.
Silence for a moment.
"We're at the apartment complex just off of eighth and middle beach... unit twenty-two" Summer folded the phone closed, "They're on their way" she told them all, even though that was perfectly clear.
"I should call dad" Seth blurted out, glancing at Ryan.
Marissa chose that moment to tear her hand from Ryan's and begin sobbing, not withholding anything. Ryan glanced at Seth, who gently guided Summer from the apartment.
Ryan unemotionally put his arm around Marissa's shoulders which heaved with every cry. She leaned in to his chest; a wounded animal aware of her choices and possible concequences.
He winced as he forehead pressed strongly to his ribs, but he didn't move.
"I'm... I shot him... He was... am I going to go to..?" he sentence was fragmented and had no end, but Ryan understood perfectly. He glanced at Trey once more from the corner of his eye. Between himself and Marissa, and Trey, sat the gun.
Light glinted off the ominous steel.
"Let's get out of here" Ryan told her. Marissa's crying was subsiding now, her sobs more gentle and quiet. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks.
She stumbled to her feet and began to make it out of the apartment on her own while Ryan fell behind. Leaning against the wall for support of his aching body. Marissa stumbled out the door of the unit and it reminded Ryan of her drinking. When they had first met.
He remembered last Chrismukkah when they had been pulled over. He'd been so angry.
Like tonight, only tonite was more or less a blurr. At the time he had left the poolhouse Ryan knew things could only turn out a few certain ways, and he'd accepted it. He just wanted it over, he wanted Trey out of his life, forever.
Now, staring down at his battered and bloody body Ryan wasn't sure if he was truly prepared to deal with the night ending this way.
His focus was drawn to the gun again. He leaned over slowly and picked it up from the carpet warily.
He rested his forefinger against the side of the barrel, his palm pressing against the cold steel of the handle. He stared down at it, lost in thought for a moment.
"Ryan?" Seth's voice interrupted him from th doorway.
"Dad's on the -... what are you doing?" he demanded, worried.
Ryan slowly dropped the gun to the carpet, "Nothing" he answered slowly, meeting Seth's confused eyes.
Slowly he wobbled past Seth and out the door in to the cool night air.
This was going to be a long night.
00000000000000
Sandy nearly missed the stoplight marking a busy intersection.
His heart pounded in his chest, a rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Stop, he told himself. Breath.
Sure, it wasn't a particularly busy intersection, but at this point neither Kirsten nor the boys could deal with a phonecall that would follow such an incident.
He wasn't even sure if Kirsten would be informed in rehab.
He hoped they would never have to get that phonecall.
Sandy Cohen wanted to pass comfortably, preferably before he was too far gone to take care of himself.
But then, didn't everyone?
Now Sandy was so focussed on the glaring red stop light he didn't notice the cop car bearing down from behind him, lights flashing. Responding to a call. It was the chirp of the siren that finally alerted him to the officer's presence, and by that time it was too late for him to do much of anything.
Were they pulling him over? Thinking he was DUI or something?
But the speeding car arced around Sandy and out in to the quiet intersection.
He rubbed his tired eyes, impatient to get home to his boys and drop off for the night.
When he had called earlier, Seth had sounded funny. Jumpy, unsettled. But Sandy felt the same way.
They had, after all, shipped Kirsten off to an institute earlier today for an unknown amount of time.
Would it be days? Weeks? Months?
Nausea kicked up in his stomach. He wasn't sure he could be without her for much longer than a month or two. Maybe that was selfish, but Sandy loved her now more than ever. If the past year and a half had shown him anything, it had shown that together they were strong, unstoppable. Apart they were both a wreck, unsure of anything.
The past year had introduced all kind of stresses. There was no other reason for her breakdown he told himself.
His conscience, hoever, had other plans.
He shouldn't have let Ryan go back to Chino. He should have dragged Seth home by the collar. Then there was Caleb and that whole scandal. And Lindsay. Rebecca... Carter... Julie... The list went on. And of course, her father.
Maybe now she could rest, find peace there. Find herself again. Maybe Sandy could find himself again. It had been so long since either of them had truly been in touch with themselves it was surprising.
A horn honked behind him, lights flashed.
The light was green.
Sandy stepped on the gas, accelerating slowly in the dark towards home.
His cell phone chose that moment to ring.
Probably Seth, Sandy thought, wondering where he was.
He fumbled for his cell phone on the seat beside him and finally came up clutching the thing. Seth's number was lit brightly on the outside. Caller ID was wonderful.
"Seth" he answered, "I'm on my way, I'll be home in ten minutes". He was more weary now than ever.
"Uhm...dad?" Seth's voice asked on the other end.
"Yes, Seth, I'll be home shortly, can we talk then ?"
"Dad... I'm not at home... we're not at home... we're... at Trey's. he's... Ryan came here and... Dad, we need you here. Right now"
"What happened Seth?" Sandy demanded, his attention and worry piquing.
"We just... we really need you"
"Is everyone okay?"
Silence.
"Are you and Ryan okay?" he repeated.
"We're... fine... Ryan's a little... dad, the police are on the way and I think.. You have to be here when they get here..."
"You said you were at Trey's? That's off Eighth right? Right Seth?"
"Yea, dad. Off Eighth and Middle Beach.."
"I'll be there in five minutes Seth. Don't say anything to the cops, don't do anything, go nowhere. Just sit tight, all of you, until I get there" Sandy hung up his phone and tossed it back on the passenger seat.
His foot pressed harder on the gas, and this time Sandy purposely went through yellow and red lights.
He was on Middle Beach right now, leading in to the heart of Newport.