AN: Lyrics belong to the Cure. Small update, consider this an interlude, it's all from Ryan's POV. Thanks to those of you still following.
"…Say it's the same sun spinning in the same sky
Say it's the same stars streaming in the same night
Tell me it's the same world whirling through the same space
Tell me it's the same time tripping through the same day
So say it's the same house and nothing in the house has changed
Yeah say it's the same room and nothing in the room is strange
Oh tell me it's the same boy burning in the same bed
Tell me it's the same blood breaking in the same head…"
Ryan dreamed every night now.
He'd never remembered his dreams in the past, but after the fire, they were vivid.
He could smell the smoke. Sometimes he woke up out of breath. Ashes in his hair. Watering eyes.
He'd taken pills, he'd even tried vodka shots before bed, but nothing could keep the vision of Seth's lifeless body in the driveway. He'd carried Seth's dead body out of the fire.
He'd failed him. He'd let Seth die.
And his punishment was that he had to relive it every night. He had to see Seth's dead face staring up at him.
At least he wasn't crying out anymore. As far as he knew, Kirsten and Sandy didn't know that he couldn't sleep. Sure, they suspected, but he was quiet.
He got out of bed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep and curled up on the window seat.
He could see the beach. The white cresting waves and the lights of the boats on the horizon.
Lindsay didn't want to be with him anymore.
But he still had Sandy and Kirsten. They were still unwavering in their support of him. They wouldn't be able to handle it if he did anything stupid. And he wouldn't be able to do anything without them.
He felt like a shell of his former self. Without Seth, in Newport It should be the title of the next chapter in his life.
But the title alone displayed how lonely and hard it was going to be. Without Seth.
"Ryan? Are you up?" Kirsten's voice was hesitant from the doorway.
"Yeah, is everything…" he started.
"Can I sit with you?" she asked.
As if he would ever turn her down. He nodded and she walked over and stood beside him.
"You have nightmares."
"No, I…"
She met his gaze.
"Yeah. I do," he whispered.
"I do, too. But they're not really nightmares…" she started softly. "I just…I see Seth. Laughing. I see him taking his first step. I see him playing in the sandbox. I see him getting his driver's license…and then I wake up."
Ryan didn't know what to say. He reached out and took her hand.
"What do you dream about?"
"I don't dream about Seth like that. I dream about him…after. I dream about the fire…" he murmured. "I always dream about the fire…"
"I guess I shouldn't complain about my dreams…" she said with a sad smile. "Come on. Let's get something to snack on. You're thin."
"I'm not thin," he protested, letting her lead him from the dark room into the kitchen.
Sandy was standing in the opened freezer and visibly jumped in alarm when they entered. "God, you scared me…ice cream?" He held out a box of ice cream that his spoon was already sticking out of.
"You're up, too?" Kirsten asked.
"I haven't been able to sleep alone in years, honey, you know that. What's up, kid?" Sandy asked, offering Ryan his favorite flavor of ice cream.
Ryan took the box of mint chocolate chip and sat down by the window with a shrug.
"Ryan has bad dreams, too," Kirsten answered for him, putting an arm around Sandy.
"Well, when Seth was little, he'd have the worst nightmares, those damned comics I always said, but we figured out that if we let him get out of bed and wound down that he'd fall right back asleep," Sandy said.
"How'd you wind down little Seth?" Ryan asked. He couldn't even imagine hyperactive-Seth as a child.
"It wasn't easy, believe me," Kirsten smiled. "I think he had some secret stash of caffeine as a kid, he was manic, he always kept us busy."
"Usually we'd just take him for a walk around the house, showing him that there were no monsters, making sure he knew how the security system worked, stuff like that," Sandy replied.
"You're a little big for that, Ryan. But we can offer ice cream," Kirsten said. "And we're here if you need to talk."
"Thanks. I know." Ryan returned his attention to the ice cream.
"You want to see what's on the television?" Sandy asked Kirsten.
"I'm not really that tired right now. Sure. Maybe we can catch some Kids in the Hall reruns," Kirsten replied. She patted Ryan on the back before they left him alone.
They were trying to give him space. But not too much. They didn't want him to think that he was all alone.
But he was all alone.
Kirsten and Sandy couldn't go to school with him. They couldn't talk him down when those fucking Newport brats tossed insults his way. They couldn't hold his hand every time he saw Seth's dead face, felt the weight of his dead body in his arms.
They couldn't make this better.
Yeah, tell me it's all the same
This is how it's always been
But if nothing has changed...
Then it must mean...
Ryan liked surfing.
Sandy kept saying he was a natural, but it wasn't true.
Ryan had to concentrate. Keeping his balance, timing his move, watching the waves.
It was tough.
It was therapeutic, though. He didn't have to think about Seth. About the fire. About the pit of revulsion inside himself.
He just had to focus on catching the next wave.
Sandy's voice was always close by. Yelling tips across the roar of the ocean. Washing up beside him after he'd wipe out.
Kirsten came with them sometimes, but today she wanted to go back to work. She said she needed to prove to herself and Caleb that she could still do her job.
He respected her for it. He'd tried school and it'd been too soon. If she could work, then she should work.
"You ready to pack it in?" Sandy called from the beach.
He was getting cold despite the wetsuit. As much as he liked surfing, the swimming was just as freeing. He let the board trail behind him as he swam to shore. Sandy hated the way he did that, said he should always surf in and not strain himself dragging the board behind him, but Ryan didn't mind the extra strain.
He liked the ocean now.
He'd swallowed so much water in his first lesson that he'd learned how to be careful.
"You looked good out there, kid. You get better every day," Sandy smiled as they carried their boards up the beach to their house.
"Thanks. This was good. Stress relief and everything," Ryan nodded.
"I'm glad. I'm going to go into the office for a while, are you going to be okay here?" Sandy asked.
"Yeah. I think I might go to that gym Summer was telling me about. More stress relief. And I'm meeting with the shrink again, I figured I'd go straight there after the gym."
Sandy nodded. "Sounds like your day is pretty filled…"
"And Dr. Kim emailed me a bunch of homework so I won't fall behind," Ryan added.
"How about lunch? You want to come down to the pier and have lunch? Kirsten has a business meeting and I'm going to be tired of filing by lunchtime," Sandy said.
"Sure. I can do that. You just want to see me after therapy," Ryan replied.
"Maybe. You promised you'd talk to her this time. I want to hold you to that," Sandy said, unlocking the door and leading him inside after they'd put their boards away.
"I'll try, Sandy."
"Good. We'll get through this, kid, it's just going to take time. I'll see you for lunch," Sandy winked, hurrying upstairs to change.
Ryan went to the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of juice.
They didn't put cranberry juice in the fridge anymore.
Kirsten had her Evian and Sandy had his Capri Suns and Ryan had his orange juice. But there was no cranberry juice anywhere in the house.
He'd even looked for it.
He couldn't stand the stuff, but Seth had drank it like it was his life's elixir.
Ryan wondered if he'd ever be able to go through his day without feeling the lack of Seth. Or would every day just be an inventory of what he was missing.
But the sun is cold - the sky is wrong
The stars are black - the night is gone
The world is still - the space is stopped
The time is out - the day is dropped
The house is dark - the room is scarred
The boy is stiff - the bed is hard
The blood is thick - the head is burst
"I think you need medication, Ryan. Even if it's only for a short time…I'm worried about you, about your self-image…your depression…"
"You don't even know me, how could you know anything about my self image?"
"I don't know anything because you won't tell me anything," the doctor retorted.
Ryan clenched his fists and tried to take a deep breath.
He had talked this time. He'd filled the whole fucking hour with words. He'd talked about how sad he was, how much it hurt him to see the Cohens in pain and knowing that he couldn't do anything about it. He'd talked about Summer and how she'd come crying to him when something reminded her of Seth. He'd told her about the fight at school and how his girlfriend had dumped him. He'd talked, he'd done what he was supposed to do and the bitch still wanted to medicate him.
Dope him up so he couldn't feel anything.
So he'd forget about Seth, so he'd move on with his life and forget about where he came from and how he got here. So he'd be all soft and easy-going and forget about all the shitty things that were inevitable. So he'd have to depend on a fucking chemical to make himself feel normal.
"Ryan. Don't shut down on me now…"
"Shut down?" he raised his voice for the first time as he stood up.
He'd spent three hours beating the hell out of a punching bag and running laps to get ready for this goddamned appointment, to get ready to bare his soul to this…bitch. But he was done now.
Sandy and Kirsten would have to get over it, he'd think of something else because he was done. "I'm done," he said out loud.
"Ryan, wait, sit down…"
"No. You had your chance. First visit, I didn't open up. Second visit, I open up. Same results both times. I'm done." He turned and walked out of the office as fast as his feet would take him.
Stupid doctors, stupid shrink.
She hadn't done anything but listen and probe him to talk, she hadn't told him anything that would be useful except that he needed medication.
Bullshit.
He'd started his Hummer but hesitated in the parking lot. He had to meet Sandy.
What was Sandy going to say?
What the hell was he going to tell Sandy? That the doctor was a bitch, that she had eyes like Julie Cooper, predatory? That wasn't true, she was just a doctor, she was getting paid to fix him.
He should have held his temper.
He shouldn't have stormed out.
Sandy and Kirsten didn't need this drama right now. They didn't need to know that he couldn't even go to a therapist without losing his cool. He'd already been put out of school because he couldn't deal and now he was quitting therapy…
This was not going to fly with the Cohens.
His phone rang. He answered it before he could even remember that he was too mad to talk.
"Ryan? It's Sandy, are you still coming for lunch?"
"Um, yeah. I'm almost there," Ryan said, turning the Hummer onto the street from the parking lot.
"Everything all right?"
"I guess. I'll tell you when I get there. Are we going out or staying in?" Ryan sighed.
"I've already ordered for us, just come to the office."
Ryan drove the speed limit for the next few blocks, needing the time to think of what to say to Sandy.
But it didn't help.
He had to tell Sandy the truth. He owed him.
He parked the Hummer and walked up the walk to Sandy's office.
Sandy swung the door open immediately. "Come in, kid. Sit down."
"I cussed out the shrink," Ryan said flatly, not touching the bag of food Sandy set in front of him.
"Oh. Open your food," Sandy said. Ryan couldn't read his mood. Sandy was just watching him.
Ryan pulled out the carton of fries and the burger.
"What happened?"
"I talked to her, Sandy, just like I promised…she still wants to put me on medication and I flipped. I don't need medication."
Sandy was looking at him.
"I don't need medication. I just need time," he said. He was talking too much. He was still shaken. He had to chill.
"Okay, kid," Sandy nodded, his mood still unreadable.
"You…" Ryan started.
"Eat. It's just us," Sandy urged.
Ryan took a fry and chewed it. He needed to know what Sandy thought. He didn't think Sandy was disappointed and even though he knew he was worried, he'd always been honest and given Ryan good advice.
"You're not going to take medication if you don't want to, Ryan. We won't force you. The medication isn't going to help you if you're so opposed to taking them. They'll hang over you and you won't trust your own moods."
"My moods?"
Sandy smiled. "You have moods. You try not to show them but you have them. And since…since we lost Seth, you've had the same one. Depressed. I can't really fault you for that, I'm depressed, too. Seth's…he's dead and it's always going to hurt. But…we can't die with him."
"I…"
"You're a smart kid. I trust your judgment. But I don't know if you're seeing what I see."
"What do you see?" Ryan asked.
"That you're not moving on. You're going through the motions. You feel guilty for being alive when Seth's not. That's what I see. And I don't see that you're getting better, Ryan."
"I'm trying…" Ryan whispered.
"I know. How about a different doctor?"
"Do you think I should take the pills?" Ryan countered.
"What do you think?" Sandy asked.
"I…I don't want to. I…I'll…I don't know." Ryan didn't know anything anymore.
"How about a second opinion?"
"Another doctor…" Ryan sighed.
"No. Kirsten."
"I don't want to upset her."
Sandy's phone buzzed.
"Answer it. I'm eating," Ryan said.
Sandy picked up the phone. "Sandy Cohen." His gaze flickered to Ryan. "It's okay, doctor, he's here with me."
Ryan took a bite of his burger, lowering his gaze.
"He's okay. We're having lunch and going over things…I'll ask. I'll call you later, thanks," Sandy said after a long pause, closing his phone.
"What did she say?"
"She wanted to know if I'd bring you back in. She wants to talk to you with me there," Sandy replied.
"Okay," Ryan whispered.
"If you don't like her…"
"I don't like anyone, Sandy," Ryan admitted. Sandy laughed.
"What do you want to do?" Sandy asked.
Ryan was silent.
He needed to think.
But his mind was blank.
He didn't know what to do. "Do you trust her? The doctor?"
"Yes. Kirsten went to see her after her mother died. But that doesn't mean that I take her word as law."
Ryan took another bite of his burger.
"Kid?"
"I'll come with you," Ryan agreed.
"You sure?" Sandy questioned.
"Yeah. I'll come. I'll keep my cool," Ryan nodded.
They finished their lunch, Sandy keeping the mood light with an entertaining story about his new case, a woman suing for faulty botox injections.
The doctor escorted them into her office as soon as they arrived.
"Mr. Cohen. Ryan. Thank you for coming."
He sat down on the couch and Sandy sat down beside him.
"I'm sorry I upset you, Ryan. I had no idea that the concept of medication would agitate you so much. You told me a lot today and I know that was hard for you," the doctor said.
Ryan nodded, acknowledging her apology.
"I feel like I need to clarify something with you, Ryan. When I said that you weren't telling me anything, I didn't mean that you weren't talking enough. I'm sorry. Everything you've told me had been about the past two years, Ryan."
"Ryan?" Sandy urged.
"What does my past matter?"
"Ryan," Sandy repeated, quieter.
Ryan sighed and met the doctor's gaze. "My mom's a junkie."
"He's not comfortable with drugs," Sandy said, patting his knee reassuringly.
"Okay. Ryan, that changes everything…if I'd known that I would have never mentioned medications to you," she said quietly.
"I live here now. I left all that behind," Ryan stated.
"But what happened to you…there, it affects who you are. You've only known me a couple of years, you were already a man when I met you," Sandy said urgently.
Ryan closed his eyes.
Seth was dead. Gone. Nonexistent.
It was back to him. Ryan before Seth.
He didn't even want to remember himself before Seth.
"Ryan?" Sandy called.
"Sorry."
"You've had a long day. Go home, get some rest. I'll call you tomorrow with some ideas not concerning medications. If you agree…"
"Okay. I'm sorry about earlier," Ryan admitted.
"You're allowed to yell at me. And curse at me and be honest with me. I'm here so you don't yell at your dad there," the doctor said.
"Ryan doesn't yell at us," Sandy said, patting Ryan on the back fondly. Ryan appreciated his support. Sandy was sticking by him and had made it clear that he'd support Ryan in whatever he decided.
"Will you talk to me tomorrow?" she asked Ryan.
"I'll be home all day," Ryan nodded. He had a lot of thinking to do.