The First Week
Thanks everyone for your reviews. It's really great for me to know that people are actually reading my story! And for those who commented on how Ryan and Seth didn't sound like they were five, I hope I fixed that and made it more realistic in this chapter. Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. Not even a credit card.
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Ryan lay huddled under his bed, shaking through the wet pyjamas that were clinging to his skin. Any second now, his mom's boyfriend Jake would find out what had happened to the bathroom, and he would know who had done it.
Ryan hadn't meant to make a mess. He just needed a way to get rid of his t-shirt before his mom saw the huge rip he had gotten in it playing tag, when someone grabbed him while he was still running. His mom got so angry when he wrecked clothes, because they cost so much money. She had told him that over and over again. So Ryan had tried to flush his shirt down the toilet. He didn't know the water would just keep coming out and coming out. And as he ran around, trying to find something to make it stop, the door had opened. So he hid.
Now, as he lay under his bed, Ryan heard Jake's deep voice, cursing and calling his name. Angry footsteps, coming closer and closer to his room. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut as his door opened...
When Ryan opened his eyes, he was sitting up in his bed. But he wasn't in his room, he was somewhere else. His muddled brain tried to make sense of what was going on. He looked around, and relaxed. He was in his new room, with the Cohens. He was in his new bed, his floor was covered with new toys and picture books, and there were all his new clothes hanging in the closet. Jake wasn't anywhere to be seen.
He lay back down and turned on his side, when he felt it. Wet. His pyjamas were wet, and so were the sheets. He sprang up out of bed and looked down at his pyjama pants. He had wet the bed.
Ryan couldn't believe it. He had wet the bed a lot, when he lived with his mom. It made her so angry. She would yell, and scold him for being such a baby. Only babies wet the bed. Then he would get a spanking, or a slap across the face, and a string of words telling him what a bother he was, and how much better her life had been before she had had kids. Eventually he stopped telling his mom when he had his accidents, and told Trey instead. Trey knew how to use the washing machine, and although he always made fun of Ryan, he didn't hit. But now that he was living with the Cohens, he had hoped the problem would be solved. It wasn't.
Now he didn't know what to do. Trey wasn't here, and he couldn't tell the Cohens. Not after how nice they had been to him this week. They would be mad for sure, and Ryan was certain that they wouldn't want to keep a kid who wet the bed. They would send him away.
So he would have to hide it somehow. He turned on his light, then went to his closet and pulled out a new pair of pyjamas, stripping off his old ones and throwing them into a corner. Then he went over to his bed and started taking off the sheets.
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Seth woke up thirsty. He went out into the hallway, intending to go to his parents' room and wake them up so they could get him a drink when he saw Ryan's light on. He ventured in, squinting at the brightness, and was surprised to see Ryan sitting on the bed, struggling to get a corner of the fitted sheet untucked from the bed.
"Ryan?" he asked. "What're you doing?"
Ryan looked up and saw Seth for the first time. Busted. "Nothing. Go away."
Seth saw the bundled pyjamas in the corner and a look of comprehension flooded his face.
"You wet the bed," he said, but his tone was not accusing; he was simply stating a fact.
"No!" exclaimed Ryan. "No I didn't, I was just--"
Seth cut him off. "Don't do that," he said, motioning to the sheets. "I'll go tell Mom and Dad."
"No Seth. Don't!" Ryan finally pulled the corner free, and scrambled off the bed. But Seth was already gone.
Seth ran to his parents' room, and climbed on their bed. He climbed over Sandy to get to Kirsten, waking Sandy up in the process.
"Seth," said Sandy grumpily as Seth shook Kirsten's shoulder, waking her with a start. "What do you want?"
"Ryan wet the bed," replied Seth. "And I'm thirsty."
"What's going on?" asked Kirsten, struggling to take in the situation.
"Ryan had an accident," informed Sandy. "And Seth needs a drink."
"Alright," Sandy said as he and Kirsten climbed out of bed. "I'll get some sheets."
"And I'll get you a drink," said Kirsten. "Come on downstairs with me Seth."
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Ryan debated on his course of action. Whatever he did, he would have to act quickly. Seth would have woken his parents up already. He weighed his options. He could run away. That way, he wouldn't have to face the Cohens. And they wouldn't have to go to the trouble of calling his social worker. But he had nowhere to go. He didn't even know how to get to Fresno from here. So he would have to stay. And he might as well make the best of it. He might be able to figure out how to work the washer. He had seen Trey do it. And if he cleaned up after himself, the Cohens might not send him back.
As Kirsten led Seth along the hallway past Ryan's room she was suprised to see him standing there, a bundle of sheets and pyjamas in his arms.
"Ryan, sweetie, you didn't have to do that. Give those to me, I'll take them downstairs."
Ryan apprehensively handed her the pile, searching her face for any sign of anger. He was suprised when he found none.
"Why don't you go back to your room? Sandy will be there any second with some new sheets."
That was why Kirsten wasn't angry; she left the discipline up to Sandy. It took Ryan half a second to put his guard up. He knew what was coming, but he wouldn't care. He would be tough. As Trey had once told him, he was an Atwood, and that meant that nothing could hurt him.
So when Sandy entered the room with a jovial "Hey kid" and honest suprise when he saw that Ryan had already changed his clothes and taken the sheets off the bed, it threw Ryan for a loop. He was certain he would be sent back, and wondered why Sandy was being so friendly.
"Does this happen often, Ryan?" Sandy asked, as he finished making the bed and crouched down in front of Ryan, at eye level.
Ryan knew enough not to answer. If he said yes, Sandy would be angry. If he said no, Sandy would find out he had lied and would be even more angry. It was best not to say anything. He looked down at a speck on the carpet.
"Hey, what's the matter sport?" asked Sandy after several moments of silence. Moving slowly and deliberately, he put his arms around Ryan and drew him close. "Are you upset because of your accident?"
When there was no reply, Sandy continued. "Because you don't have to be embarassed. It happens to all kids sometimes. Even Seth," he whispered, as though sharing a secret. "This kind of thing happens. Especially when you're just getting used to a new house, and new people."
Ryan was so focussed on maintaining his composure that he barely heard what Sandy said. But eventually the contact of Sandy's arms holding him close broke Ryan's resolve not to show fear, and he began to sob.
"I'm sorry!" he sobbed. "I'm so sorry! Please don't be mad! And please let me stay here. Don't send me back."
Sandy was astounded. He held Ryan closer as he cried into his shirt. He hadn't even guessed that Ryan would think they would "send him back".
"Hey, hey," he said soothingly. "It's alright. You're not going anywhere. We would never send you back Ryan. Never."
Listening to Sandy's reassurances, eventually Ryan's sobs stopped and he allowed himself to be led back to bed. But when Sandy tried to tuck him in, "Stubborn Ryan" made a comeback, announcing once again that he could "do it himself." He rolled over, facing the wall, and dismissed Sandy with a "goodnight."
Sandy walked into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He was astounded that Ryan was so insecure. And he was beginning to see what Kirsten had meant the first night Ryan had stayed with them. This kid was going to need a lot of everything: time, attention, hugs, patience, praise. But it was just the kind of challenge Sandy lived for.
TBC