A/N: This occurs in the third-ish season. The Trey thing never happened. Everything else did.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, blah blah blah.
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The beach smelled of salt and cigarettes. The sun above sunk lower, turning the sky a rainbow of colors. The white sand was nearly deserted, except for one red and white checkered blanket, spread out close enough to feel tiny sparks of water against your face, but far enough so even high tide couldn't reach them.
A white sail broke the smooth golden picture of the sun. It wasn't Seth's boat, of course, how could it be. But Ryan knew that's what Summer was thinking about. He wished he could keep her from thinking about that. He wished he could help her but he couldn't. Ryan knew Summer loved him, but he paled in comparison to her deep connection with Seth. But that was gone now, gone as his boat and his pop-culture laden quips.
It was one year to the day that Seth had died. Ryan put a comforting arm around Summer, wishing she was Marissa, but Marissa was gone, too, because Seth had offered to teach her how to sail that day, and since her and Ryan were in a fight, and therefore had no plans, she accepted.
Ryan felt Summer bury her face into his chest, and felt the tears that were almost as salty as the water before them soak through his shirt. With one finger he raised Summer's face, wiped away her tears, and kissed her. She kissed back wholeheartedly, but they quickly stopped, pulling away at the same instant, remembering what they were here for.
They had eventually been brought together by their equal misery, and found that they actually fit together quite well. Maybe if they had met each other before Marissa and Seth they could have a functional, healthy, good relationship, instead of being each other's replacements.
The sun disappeared below the horizon, and the shockingly white sail was gone as well. It was a long time before Ryan and Summer stood up, gathering up the blanket and carrying it back to the car. They drove silently. Ryan stopped in front of Summer's house, and kissed her tenderly on the cheek. Summer tried to smile, wiping away her tears and sliding on her Gucci sunglasses even though it was nighttime. Summer hated to been seen when she had been crying. Ryan knew that. He knew everything about Summer, even though they rarely talked. They just were together. Everyone knew it, they were together and they knew each other but if they talked they were afraid they might move on, past Seth and Marissa, and forget them. And the last thing Summer and Ryan wanted was to forget them. They were afraid to.
In the morning, Ryan got in the shower, got dressed, and drove to Summer's house. She was waiting on the step, expecting him at exactly ten thirty. They drove in silence to Dunkin' Donuts, where they always ordered the same thing- two coffees with extra sugar and creme, a box of chocolate, powdered, and glazed munchkins, and two Boston Crème donuts. They ate, and talked a tiny bit, saying only the right things, nothing to bring up the past. Ryan and Summer feared the past, lived in the present, with each other.
Summer mentioned shopping, which seemed to be her only escape. When Marissa turned to vodka, Summer turned to Jimmy Choo. Ryan smiled, and said something to make both of them laugh, and then they left, throwing away the remnants of their breakfast away, heading for the mall. Ryan hated shopping, but he liked shopping with Summer. She made him forget, and it was through these rituals that Ryan grew to love Summer, and Summer grew to love Ryan. Or really, to depend on each other for love, and so they wouldn't fall apart and die alone.
After they had shopped until Summer's credit card got declined, they went to dinner at the diner, and ordered the same thing, two black and white milkshakes, a hamburger and fries with extra ketchup for Ryan and a Ceaser Salad with four crutons (only four, she explained to each waiter or waitress each time) and extra Ranch dressing for Summer. And then left, going to the pool house. And for a few desperate hours they did what helped them forget what even shopping couldn't. Summer was home by eleven every night; she never stayed over. Because she never stayed over with Seth, either, except one time and when she woke up, it was the happiest moment of her life, pure peace and security and warmth, and she didn't want to know how she would feel if she woke up in Ryan's bed, how it would compare, and if it would be better or worse. Summer didn't want to find out.
When there was school, they went to school, quietly. Ryan didn't get into any fights; Summer never skipped class to go shopping anymore. They ate lunch together, the same thing every day, depending on the day, and then they went home and did their homework until it was nighttime. Summer was home by eleven.
The reason they never changed was because they had perfected living, to a point. They made sure that nothing was unexpected, because the last unexpected thing that had happened made them want to die on so many different levels. And if nothing unexpected happened again nothing could really make them sad. Though their monotonous life was boring to others, it kept Summer and Ryan completely satisfied, especially the few hours before eleven o'clock.
They both knew, eventually, that they would have to start to live their lives, to be able to live with the misery, but right now they were comfortable where they were.