Disclaimer: I own nada to do with the OC.
Sandy Cohen remembered the conversation vividly, the words as tangible as the water pushing up beneath his board. It was a warm spring morning, not unlike this late summer dusk, but it seemed like a million years ago. He had walked into the kitchen where Trey was making breakfast, just like Ryan first had nearly two years ago. The boys were debating the merits of Segal and Stallone and McQueen and Seth had said a house divided couldn't eat, so they needed to get behind a single action hero. Sandy Cohen, their own action hero. That was one of the last times that the kitchen had felt like a fun hopeful place, a family home, not a hollow space weighed down by Kirsten's early morning cocktails, the intervention, or the news that Trey was dead. The morning Seth said it he hadn't really meant it, just a throw away sarcastic comment, meant for that moment and quickly forgotten, like a million others. Yet Sandy remembered, and now they needed their action hero more than ever. They were more than a house divided, they were a family fractured, lost.
He felt the waves crash over and around him, the salty water seeming both hard and purifying, bringing some brief acerbic cleanliness, the sense of being alive that he longed for. Sandy had no idea how long he'd been out here and he knew that the evening was far from optimum surfing time. There were barely any waves at all, but still this was what he needed. He knew it was getting late, and he knew he should go home, but right now he needed this. He needed the ocean and its vast eternity, just as Seth had last summer. He needed these few hours to prepare himself to share more bad news with the boys, to darken that kitchen further. After the shooting Ryan became constantly conflicted, his loyalties shifting daily between Marissa who saved his life, and the big brother she killed. His eyes were wide and wild now, like a wounded animal, and he only spoke when spoken too, and then barely at all. He just retreated to the pool house, his fortress of solitude, with its redundant glass walls, far more flimsy than the ones he'd built around himself. Seth was now a law unto himself, well, more so than before at least, suddenly seeming like a gawky thirteen year old again, further knowing his difference from the protected children of the Newpsies, understanding the simple fact that they had never seen a dead body. Seth was the opposite of Ryan, he barely shut up, offering a constant stream of chatter to anyone who entered the room, seeming afraid that they would leave if he stopped.
Sandy saw the sun begin to set, its strong rays bleeding out across the orange sky, and he knew he couldn't wait any longer. He began to paddle out to shore, practising words in his head, unable to find an adequate way to explain that at two o'clock that afternoon Marissa Cooper was found guilty of murder. He could not find a way to show his son's the aching irony of the silent California girl led away as the bright early afternoon sun flooded the courthouse, no longer lighting the sparkle in her eyes. There was nothing left to light and it was his fault. Sandy's defence didn't do its' job. Marissa hadn't looked it him, or at her parents in the gallery, as they read the verdict. She just hung her head, limp dirty blonde hair hanging down around her face as thought she hadn't washed in days, and that was when Sandy knew she had given up, that he had failed her. He wasn't a hero, he was a fraud, he'd failed. He wasn't the white knight Marissa needed, the saviour that Ryan used to be, the rescuer he stopped being that night. Sandy was the only person on the beach as he walked up it. He reached the Range Rover and stuffed his board in the back. He knew it was time to go home.
When he reached his own front door he paused a while and took a deep breath before unlocking it and padding tentatively towards the kitchen, affording the situation some mundane reverence.
'Fellas ?' he enquired quietly
'Father' replied Seth, not taking his eyes away from the television and the X-box that seemed to possess him.
'Where's Ryan ?' Sandy asked, already afraid of the answer.
'Pool house' Seth's voice was oddly monotone, a sure sign that he was angry.
'I'll go get him, then we need to talk' Sandy intoned solemnly, putting down his briefcase.
'He won't let you in' Seth's blank voice came again . 'You're too late. Julie called, Ryan answered. She left you an angry message.' his son's almost automated tone hit him Seth threw down the controller, harder than usual, as the black contraption in front of him emitted an odd digital noise of defeat. Sandy saw his sad son stand to meet his eye.
'How come you couldn't keep her out of jail ? What are just not a good enough lawyer?'. The young man's eyes narrowed as he walked past his father and off down the main corridor of the cold white house. Sandy watched Seth's back leave, knowing the worst was still to come.
Seth felt bad for going off on his father. He did, but he couldn't help it. He knew this wasn't his Dad's fault, not really, just like he knew that Ryan leaving last year wasn't his Dad's fault, but it didn't mean he could forgive him. This was Marissa's fault, well really, it was Trey's, maybe it was even his, for telling Ryan, that was the bit he hated the most, the thing he really didn't want to think about. He knew it was selfish, but if Marissa's hadn't gone to jail then Ryan wouldn't get worse, or at least the distance between them wouldn't grow any further. He wouldn't be any more alone than he was right now. Seth knew this part of him was obnoxious, but he still couldn't seem to stop acting out of this stupid fear of life B.R., Before Ryan. It was why he ran away last summer and why he shouted at his Dad just now. There was also this other childish niggling in him that couldn't stop believing that his parents were perfect. Earlier that summer his mom had proved him wrong, and he didn't blame her, he was sad for her, guilty at his own selfishness, but his Dad was still, however corny it sounded, his hero. His Dad had brought him the brother he always longed for, he'd orchestrated the sending - Ryan -to bring Seth back from Portland plot last autumn. Now his Dad had really failed and Seth knew nothing would be ok ever again. What if this totally sent Ryan over the edge ? What if his mom came back to this, to crazy Ryan and the wrath of Julie and needed a few glasses of Merlot to get though ? What then ?
His thoughts were spiralling. He buried his head into his blue comforter, half heartedly picking up captain oats and trotting him along the bed covers. 'Well Oats, looks like its back to you and me buddy' Seth sighed.
Sandy had been knocking on the door of the poolhouse for twenty minutes to no avail. He could see Ryan lying on his bed, wearing the grey hoodie that he'd worn when he first arrived in Newport, the grey hoodie that he'd barely taken off since Trey died. As Ryan started to get up Sandy's hopes began to rise, only to be met by Ryan's go-the-fuck-away glare.
'I want to be alone, ok. I'm sure you want to talk, but I don't care' Ryan spoke loud enough to be heard through the glass that separated them.
'Well that's pretty verbose for someone who doesn't want to talk. In fact its pretty talkative for you in general' Sandy tried.
He knew the joke was inappropriate, but it was as though the words just fell out of his mouth. He now knew where Seth got it from. He watched sadly as Ryan retreated to the bed and turned his back towards him. Sandy longed to just stand there and keep talking until Ryan finally gave in. But he knew he had no right to lecture Ryan tonight. He lost that right the day he brought Trey into their home. Sandy felt lost. He hadn't been able to save the broken boy in front of him, and this was his punishment. He walked heavily back towards the main house, unaware of the tear that rolled down his weather beaten cheek.
Ryan kept trying to process the words in his mind. Marissa Cooper found guilty of the murder of Trey Atwood. His testimony meant nothing. Sandy's defence meant nothing. Sandy's attempts to appease, or at least the attempts he anticipated were already driving him crazy. Sandy always acted like everything would be ok and I it was infuriating him. This wasn't fixable. It wasn't like a scientific equation. You couldn't go back if you got it wrong, switch the letters and numbers around until they made sense. He couldn't scrabble together any fragile form of sense from this. It was permanent, like a slab of stone that would stand between them forever, thick and heavy as the stone up in Newport Cemetery that now bore Trey's name. All their positive attitudes throughout the trial had grated on him. Seth's unconvincing assurance that 'My Dad will get her off dude, I mean he will, right?', and Summer's inane daily visits, and the pink frosted cheer up cookies that she brought, the cookies that nobody wanted to eat.
More than that though was Sandy's constant promise 'This will be ok, kid'. Each time he told Ryan that he'd lied. Ryan wished that Sandy would respect that he was old enough to here the truth. He didn't need false naïve hopes. That's what frustrated him. This was what had made him pack up his few pre-Newport belonging every day that week. It had made him secretly look up bus times to Austin, or Phoenix or Las Vegas or some place where he couldn't hurt those he loved, before deciding he was being foolish each evening, knowing deep down that now he had too much to lose, now he couldn't leave like he could have two years ago. Really he wanted to scream at Sandy. He wanted to punch someone. He wanted to bleed like Trey had, to feel as bad as Marissa did right now. God knows he deserved worse.
He headed to the bathroom and started kicking the bin. He knew he looked idiotic and desperate but he needed to get out his anger somehow. He knew couldn't talk to Sandy, he could risk what he might say, what he might do. Since everything with Trey his temper had begun to scare him. So he just went on kicking the inanimate object. One kick for Sandy letting Marissa go to jail, one kick for the way Marissa looked on the stand just a few days ago, one for the few hours when it felt like Sandy may never come home, one for Julie's shrill screaming down the phone line, another for the condemnation he saw in his mother's eyes at Trey's funeral, another for her leaving again without telling him. Then one almighty kick , one loud crash to echo the noise inside that would taunt him forever, that sickening thud as his brother's body hit the floor. With each kick his anger built until the blinding white rage that he was afraid of engulfed him, the rage that made his fight his brother, the rage that led to his brothers death, to his girlfriend's imprisonment, the rage that led him here. That's when kicking the bin hadn't been enough, when he'd felt his fist shatter through the glass of the big mirror , not feeling the pain of the shards that rained down on him. He hit out at anything and every thing, the world a thick angry blur before him. Before he knew it he was sitting on the bathroom floor in a mess of shelves and shower curtain and debris, and an overwhelming guilt was starting to settle at the pit of his stomach. He'd destroyed it all, literally. The Cohen's had given him everything and look how he repaid them. Sandy had every right to throw him out, to batter him to hell and back
Sandy sat in his study, shredding old documents he didn't need. He needed to do something that felt useful, so if he couldn't reach the boys tonight, he could sure as hell have an organised office, it was something, maybe. He was in the middle of the particularly violent destruction of a stationary order from February when the doorbell rang. He padded down the near silent marble hall way.
'With our luck that'll be Oliver' he muttered to himself.
He opened the door, shocked by the sight that met him. Julie Cooper-Nichol, unmade-up, red-eyed and in a crumpled juicy sweat suit, a glimpse of the young woman she had once been, no longer the ice queen she'd become. She held out a brown paper bag that suddenly looked extremely big in her hands.
'I brought bagels' her worn voice cracked as she attempted a smile, her eye's water-rimmed from hours of crying.
'Well that's the secret password into the Cohen, household' Sandy smiled painfully at her, recalling the comforting words he'd offered her daughter, the girl he couldn't save, only half a year ago.
'Thanks' said Julie stepping gingerly over the threshold, made timid by the day's events.
'I, um, I wanted to apologise' she tried to explain. She was still angry, a burning anger that she knew would never go away, but Julie Cooper-Nichol was a survivor. She knew you got nowhere in this town without friends, and with Kirsten in rehab and the Newpsies abandoning her after the shooting, Sandy Cohen was the only friend she and Jimmy had. Even though Caleb was dead..they were still family, she supposed.. For better or worse.
'I think you better have a seat' Sandy said, feeling an awkward relief at the distraction. He lead her though to the kitchen and towards the breakfast bar, offering her a stool as he took the brown bag from her hands. He would make them each a Sandy Cohen special, with a nice thick schmearing of cream cheese, and they could conduct this conversation under some pretence of normality, some forced causality.
'Part of me blames you, part of me blames Ryan.. If she wasn't with him then she wouldn't have gotten caught up with his brother.. .but I blame her.. For y'know….for putting me through this…. And I shouldn't have left that message with Ryan' she said, not meeting Sandy's eyes, shifting her weight from side to side, her countenance broken, she spoke like a woman always on the verge of tears.
'To me the message is forgotten..' Sandy assured her, flinging slightly burnt bagels on to a plate and placing them down by the pot of cream cheese.
'I know..it sounds cheesy..or whatever.. But with Cal gone..and Marissa and Kirsten away..I mean Kaitlin's so young, its like you and the boys.. Your all Jimmy and I have' she finished, watching Sandy schmear the bagels with cream cheese.
'Aww shucks, I never knew Julie Cooper-Nichol, the dragon lady, had a fluffy side' Sandy laughed.
'Sandy!' she warned, the old Julie's voice penetrating her sadness.
'Ok, Ok, not the time for jokes' he said pushing the plate towards her.
'Apology accepted and appreciated' he nodded. 'But maybe there's someone else who needs to hear it'.
'I know' Julie looked down.
'But he's not really up for talking much right now' Sandy sighed.
Julie had no response. They each picked up a half of bagel and began eating in silence. Sandy realised that he now finally knew what it felt like to be Julie, to have your kids mad at you and beyond your reach, to try and appease to no avail, to have failed in their eyes.
'Julie, mind if I ask some advice' he took a deep embarrassed breath 'some parenting advice ?' he enquired, eliciting a short dry laugh from the woman opposite him.
'Let me get this straight. Sandy Cohen- father-of -the -year wants parenting advice from the former porn star ? The mother of a murderer ?' she laughed again, enjoying the bitter irony.
'I'm sorry if that upset you' Sandy looked down, feeling foolish.
'No, its ok- shoot. I could do with something to take my mind off this' she brightened .
'Well…not to be crass, but how do you deal with your kids….' he trailed off, struggling not to offend her.
'Hating you?' She finished his question.
'Yeah' Sandy replied awkwardly
'Well, if I'd been that successful then I wouldn't be here, right ?' she started 'But if you want my two cents. Just don't give up. I mean, before the..before Trey.. I think Marissa started to see me as human again. She leant me a dress for Cal's funeral, at least.' She sighed, and looked Sandy in the eye 'Don't pretend you're a superhero Sandy, they need to know you're fallible that you can break, just like they can, but that you're still here, that you'll always be here'. She finished, no longer looking at him, remembering the brief moments when she felt like she had won Marissa back.
'That was...surprisingly insightful' Sandy raised an eye brow at her.
'Well, y'know, I have my moments' Julie smiled. 'I should probably go' she added, picking up a piece of bagel to eat on her way out. Sandy walked her to the door, a new found respect hanging in the air between them.
'Night, Julie, and thank you' said Sandy emphatically as she opened the door.
'Thanks Sandy' she replied.
'Oh and Julie' he added, just as she was turning away. She couldn't spin round to face him, tears for her own child already threatening to fall again.
'You're not the villain of this story. Try not to blame you're self' his kind voice intoned, but she just kept on walking.
Sandy absorbed Julie's advice, turning over the idea in his mind, maybe he could never really be Seth and Ryan's hero, but he could be their father.
He walked back to the kitchen and looked out at the poolhouse. The blinds had now been drawn. Sandy sighed sadly to himself. He would go to Seth first. He knew Ryan needed his own time. He knew Ryan was more of a two person job. Sandy made another bagel and headed upstairs with it. He stood out side Seth's door, hesitating for a few minutes, listening to the low drone of music seeping out from underneath it. A few brief words struck him. 'Boy, someday you'll be a man'. Yes he thought pointedly, and maybe right now the kind of man this boy became depended on him. He needed to go in and be Seth's father. He knocked on the door. 'Seth? You in there? He tried gently.
'Go away, Dad' his son's hard voice respond.
'Nope, sorry, no can do' said Sandy, swinging the door open. He walked over to the bed where Seth was lying face down, cuddling his pillow with Captain Oats by his side.
'Thought you might be hungry' Sandy offered placing the plate on the soft bed.
'Yeah, well. You thought wrong' Seth countered indifferently.
'Ok, well I really wanted to talk actually. And before you say anything else' Sandy noticed his son getting ready for a biting retort. 'Seth, why are you mad at me?' Sandy sat down at the bottom of the bed.
'Because you failed' Seth muttered matter-of-factly.
'Really?' Sandy pushed, remembering Julie's words. Seth sat up and tuned to face his father, his curly hair askew from its collision with the pillow. Father and son stared each other down for a moment in the silence.
'Look Seth' Sandy continued. 'Its very sad. it's a sad day for all of us, and I just want to be able to talk to you. I've just seen Julie, you know, she won't get to see Marissa for a long time. It made me realise how lucky I am to have you. Do you have any idea how much we missed you when you went to Portland ?'. He waited for a reply. None came.
'I'm asking you not to do anything like that again. I'm sorry because I know Marissa's your friend, and I'm sorry that I didn't come straight home earlier. Please understand son, I did my best, I'm only human, Seth. Try not to be mad for her' Sandy produced a veritable monologue, letting the Cohen family trait to just carry on talking even when you don't know what to say over power him.
'I'm not mad for her' Seth's half-whisper interrupted him before he set a new world record for the amount of words spoken per breath. Seth moved forward to sit beside his father.
'I'm mad for Ryan' he explained 'but mostly I'm mad for me' he let his selfish truth slip.
'Oh' said Sandy , his eyes widening as he waited for his son to continue. Seth turned back to the pillow, back to ignoring his father's efforts and thinly veiled disappointment. For once he wanted quiet. His words could only make it worse. He could try and explain, but his tongue would trip rapidly over each thought and he'd come off as 'The Bad Son', turning others tears into jokes, his barriers against loneliness. A loneliness he would now have to live with. He was self-absorbed and deserved Ryan's scorn and Summer's disappointment, his father's disapproval. He knew his anger was unjust, stupid, maybe, but his Dad was the only person he could think to throw it at. Now Seth Cohen deserved, almost longed for, his sentence of loneliness. Sandy, however, couldn't take this cue to leave.
'Ok' Sandy responded warmly 'wanna tell me about it?'
'No' Seth replied a little uncertainly.
'Ok' his father repeated, without making any effort to move. Even though Seth knew his words would mean little now, they were still there, jumping around his mind restlessly, waiting to burst free like a jack- in-the box. Talking was like an itch that Seth wanted to scratch, the longer he stayed silent the longer it taunted him, wearing away at his resolve to be angry. In fact Seth Cohen's resolve was never know for its strength, and seemed to be dissolving pretty fast. Sandy didn't given any pretence of moving, didn't scold or lecture and it was starting to make Seth fidgety.
'Alright' he said, sitting up and facing his father. 'I'm mad that I might end up alone again. I mean not, like physically alone, but y'know, you're gonna be the defeated lawyer wandering around all dark, or with this creepy forced smile that would scare kids while you tell us its gonna be ok even though you don't believe it yourself, and Ryan's gonna sink further into himself and when Summer's hardly going to want to go out with the guy whose Dad let her best friend go to jail, and Mom's not around and when she gets back, how do we know if she'll be better ?. So I'm kinda stuck with just me' he fidgeted with his hands, finding an outlet for his nervous energy.
'And I told Ryan about Trey and Marissa. And pushed Mom too far by going to Portland and only thinking about myself, so this is my punishment' his voice rose a little, exposing the emotion he didn't want his father to see. ' Alone again. And I know I deserve it. So if you wouldn't mind leaving..' Seth's words lept forth unedited, almost in one breath. He didn't want his father in the room anymore. He felt foolish and childish. If he admitted the truth, he wasn't so much mad for himself as mad at himself. He was mad at himself for caring how much this affected him when he should be thinking about his Dad, Ryan, his Mom, Summer, hell, even Julie. He just couldn't seem to shake the only child thing, to deal with the idea that parents need comforting too.
'I'm not leaving' Sandy told his son.
'Wanna know a secret ?' he asked wistfully
'Probably not, but you'll tell me anyway' Seth moaned.
'Well since I hate to disappoint, yes, yes I will' Sandy continued playfully.
'I'm scared about how this is going to affect me too.' He told his son, placating him with his honesty.
'I'm scared about being alone. I'm scared about loosing you, and Ryan, both of you' Sandy emphasised, hoping to reassure Seth that he wouldn't be sidelined. He was as much apart of the situation as Ryan. He was there in Trey's final minutes, the seconds after the shot rang out, the deafening sound that shuddered through each of their lives.
'And I'm scared of loosing your mom too' he offered. 'Its ok to worry about yourself. But you know what I see about you and I ? We're both worried about what happens when the people we love aren't there any more. You're scared for me, Ryan, your Mom. But I know its easier to pretend that you're just scared for yourself. Its sure as hell easier than trying to carry everyone else's burden, believe me. But I think we both need to stop being angry, and that we have lessons to teach each other' Sandy found himself expounding a theory he wasn't quite sure he'd grasped yet.
'Oh God' Seth mumbled, but with out the sour tone of earlier.
'Hey, I'm not done.' Sandy made a mock protest 'C'mon' he patted the space on the bed next to him. 'Make yourself more comfortable. You know how lawyers love to talk' he instructed his son. Seth complied without protest for the first time that evening.
' You need to teach me not to try to carry all this, not to try and be Superman and I need to teach you to see what you keep denying. You're not mad for yourself, or scared for yourself. You're scared for the people that you love, and its finally the time to stop running away. You're a good boy, Seth Ezekiel' Sandy tone changed a little with the last words, imbuing them with something more, pride maybe.
'Not the dreaded middle name' Seth whined playfully, as looked at his father. His hero, uncertain and disarmed.
'Hey, think of it this way - the Ironist would save Kid Chino if he was being held captive by Demon Water Polo players, wouldn't he?' Sandy asked.
'You read that ?' Seth's voice rose a little, shocked
'Of Course I did' Sandy replied.
'You didn't say anything' Seth's dark eyes widened a little taken a back, a little heart warmed.
'Well, I didn't want to salt your game' Sandy laughed as he stood up.
'Mad props, Dad.' Seth grinned as he rapped his chest with his fist
'So…saving Kid Chino, you say?' he continued. Sandy patted Seth on the back.
'Come on' he gestured towards the doorway. Seth sprung up off the bed, and picked up the plastic horse ' Well Oats, looks like we're on a mission' he told the toy, before following his father down the hallway.
Ryan felt like an idiot, like a little kid, like he used to when he'd knocked over his mom's drink, or stole of one of AJ's cigarettes, and was waiting for the fall out. He'd let his anger over power him again. It had just risen in him the second he saw the pity in Sandy's eyes, his true and animal self, the monster inside that he couldn't escape. But he knew he could never let that anger out again, never hurt anyone again like he had the night Trey died, the night Ryan Atwood decided he would never lose control ever again. But tonight, he'd lost control and he knew that sooner or later Sandy and Seth were going to find out. He hadn't mean to trash the bathroom. He was an idiot and now he would get what he deserved. They wouldn't want him anywhere near them again, not after this. He'd broken his final bond to Newport. Marissa was gone, and now he'd ruined it all with the Cohen's. He had to leave. He picked up his school bag and began packing again, just like he had all week, but this time he meant it. He would be gone by the morning. He pulled his old chocker out of the nightstand and tossed it in the bag. That's when he heard them. Sandy and Seth outside, bickering in whispers.
'Seth, I don't think this is the time for music' he heard Sandy's deeper voice warn.
'No, seriously Dad, Ryan loves Journey. I figure if I put the CD on repeat play, then he'll have to come out side an talk to us. I mean, c'mon could you resist the power of 'Open Arms' ?' he heard Seth babbling. 'Ok, ok, maybe not the time or the place' he then heard Seth mutter, clearly responding to a look from Sandy.
'Ryan' Sandy's voice called softly. His heart began to beat faster. He'd hope he could avoid this. He could face the sad anger that he knew would be etched across Sandy's face when he saw what he'd done.
'Ryan?' Sandy's voice sounded more urgent now 'C'mon kid, let me in. I want to apologise. Seth's here, too, I think he'd like to say something to you as well'
'I would?' Seth whispered. 'Yeah' Sandy whispered back.
Sandy wanted to apologise. That made him feel worse. Why had he been such an idiot ?. He would have to just get up and leave, look Sandy in the eye and walk past him. After all Ryan Atwood was good at walking away. He'd walked away from Theresa last September, he'd walked away from Trey in the jail last thanksgiving, from his mom and AJ the first time they kicked him out. He stood to draw open the blinds, and was meet with Sandy and Seth almost pressed against the glass, both looking a mixture of confused and frightened. Then he saw Sandy's mouth open a little in shock.
'Oh Ryan, What happened?' Sandy said sadly, panic beginning to well up inside his chest at the sight of his foster son, bleeding and with glass in his hair.
'Oh my god' Seth half-whispered, going a little pale, knowing that he hadn't been the brother Ryan needed that afternoon.
Ryan meant to open the door and walk right past them. He really did. So he didn't know why he couldn't, why he was now letting his true weakness out. How instead of walking he'd frozen almost solid letting a soft tear run down his face as he suddenly looked down and saw the blood. His blood on the grey hoodie that Trey had given him for his sixteenth birthday, four days before they got arrested, five days before he came to Newport, five days before he tried to leave his childhood behind him. He knew Trey had stolen it, but it still felt almost like a badge of honour, some warped way to be proud of the big brother he could never quite let go, no matter how much he blended into this new world.
'Oh Kid, I should have been here this afternoon' Sandy pained voice told him.
'C'mon Ryan, I'm here now, let me in' he heard Sandy trying again. More tears threatened to burst forward for the first time since he was a little boy, and he didn't know why but Ryan saw the look in his foster father's eye, and he pushed down on the handle of the door and let Sandy and Seth in.
'I'm sorry' Sandy said, enveloping him in big hug .
'Me, too, for, y'know, not seeing what this was doing , to you' Seth added joined his father in hugging Ryan. Some day you'll be a man, he thought to him self, contemplating the song he'd been listening to when his Dad came up earlier, yes, he realised, some day he would be. But for now, he would just be a brother.
The rest of the evening passed in a bit of a blur. Sandy called the doctor, whilst Seth sat with Ryan. The doctor came, and Ryan agreed reluctantly to let him see him. 'I'll give him something to help him sleep', he told Sandy, 'It probably been a long day' .
'Believe me, its been a long day for us all' Sandy told the kindly man, who'd been polite enough not to mention the scandal that surrounded the family.
Ryan hated to admit it, but it actually felt good to let himself finally lean on them, to finally be part of a family. He'd thought Seth was being weird, and just well Seth, when he'd suggest that he read something to him whilst they waited for Sandy to finish talking to the doctor. The book they'd been reading for school, 'To Kill A Mockingbird'. He thought it was a bit minty, to use Seth's word, but he appreciated not having to talk, not having to explain. No one had mention the bathroom, so maybe it would be ok, he thought. He would never tell Seth but he was actually enjoy the curly haired boys odd attempts at a Southern accent and the sadly beautiful story. Maybe sadly beautiful stories were his thing, well inside his head where he couldn't be mocked for saying so, at least.
Sandy headed back to the poolhouse. He was amused when he heard Seth loudly attempting to drawl 'As I made my way home, I thought Jem and I would get grown, but there wasn't much else left for us to learn, except possibly algebra'.
'Want me to take over ?' Sandy asked eagerly.
'Ah-ha, my father can not resist the chance to do a silly voice' Seth told Ryan, who was already beginning to feel the affects of the sleeping pills.
'Sure' said Ryan sleepily.
'Oh I see' she Seth mockingly.
Sandy walked over to his sons, and climbed between them, took the book from Seth and began reading.
Soon both boys were asleep, but Sandy didn't want to leave them. He'd made that mistake once already today. He knew it had been an exhausting day, exhausting few weeks, and he knew this was far from over, but he also knew they'd moved forward today. Sandy Cohen, may not be an action hero, but he wasn't going anywhere and maybe that would be enough. He thought about his own childhood hero, the one in the book in front of him, Atticus Finch, defeated lawyer, undefeated father, and knew what he had to do. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Seth and Ryan waked up in the morning.