Blast From The Past Chapter Three

A/N: Well, here's Drunk!Ryan! Since I have a clean slate here (Ryan's never been totally smashed) I decided Ryan was going to be a very honest drunk. LOL. Belief should probably be suspended to some extent here because this WAS a challenge and it's all in fun.

"Seth, you're out of your mind if you think I'm going to some party tonight."

"Ryan!" Seth whined. He had cornered Ryan in the pool house, where he sat brooding at the same dark wall he'd been staring at from his easy chair since he got home from the pier hours ago, to demand he go to the beach party of one of Summer's various Harbor friends. "Come on, you have to go."

"With my non-existent girlfriend?" Ryan asked sarcastically, the sentence ripping at his insides even as he said it.

Seth softened. "Come on, man. You don't know that she's going to break up with you. You guys have survived a lot worse than this. It's one fight."

"I don't think it is," Ryan admitted tiredly. "It's a lot of things. That phone call opened up this whole box of feelings we'd both been keeping shut. Now it's not just about Theresa, it's about Trey and how I thought she cheated on me." Even now, he wanted to throw up saying it. Every time his mind entered even close to that territory, he thought of her alone and terrified and hurting on the beach- and the look on her face when he'd accused her of being unfaithful. "Truth is, I was shocked she didn't hold that against me to begin with," he said quietly.

"Ryan…" Seth was clearly floundering. "I think she understood you were…you know, confused and upset. She just thought you came to her all on your own prom night. That had to sting a little."

"She doesn't understand everything about that night yet," Ryan said agitatedly, leaning forward in his chair. "Not that it matters, since she won't talk to me." He slumped back again.

Seth shook his head, staying quiet for a long moment. "But that's exactly why you need to come to this party!" he suddenly burst out. Ryan temporarily considered throwing the lamp at him. "You need to get your mind off all this." Ryan shot him a Look and he relented. "Also, I have an easier time at parties if you're there to talk to when Summer's being social and to…look threatening, but that doesn't mean I'm not right!"

Ryan eyed him warily. "Yeah, I'm sure my mind will be off this just fine when Summer knocks me unconscious."

Seth pursed his lips together in a way that made it clear he couldn't entirely be sure that wasn't a possibility. "Hopefully I can calm her rage black outs," he said, his tone obviously stating he couldn't make any promises. "But dude, you're not doing anyone any good sitting here staring at the wall."

"As opposed to the party where I'll be helping YOU, I take it?" Ryan shot back wryly.

"Better than nothing!" Seth insisted. Ryan shook his head and felt a hint of a smile in spite of himself. Seth was right; he wasn't helping anyone, including himself, but just sitting here and he didn't like to go to parties without at least a couple friends, either. "I'm our excuse for leaving early," he relented.

"Dude, I have NO problem with that," Seth assured him, raising his fists in triumph. "Come on, get ready. Summer'll be here in about a half an hour."

"Are you sure you don't want to go?" Summer asked, hugging Marissa tightly as they sat together on the bed in the room that had temporarily become Marissa's.

Marissa shook her head wearily. "I'm not in the mood," she sighed, wincing at the sound of her own voice. How pathetic did she sound? It was obvious she'd been crying. "I'd just drag everyone down, anyway."

"I think I should stay," Summer said worriedly, rubbing her back as she pulled away slightly.

"Sum, no," Marissa protested. "You already promised Ashley you would be there and help host. I don't need a baby-sitter. I'm being melodramatic anyway." She rubbed her forehead. "I shouldn't have jumped down Ryan's throat about Trey. I should know by now to just leave that topic alone."

Summer bit her lip, clearly deliberating about something. "Coop…are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, obviously it's still a really difficult thing for you to talk about, but maybe that means that you should."

As always when Trey's name was brought up, something dark skittered across the back of Marissa's mind. He'd left such a huge, gaping, black hole inside of her. She couldn't even go near the edge of that. "We've talked about it as much as we can," she hastily shrugged off. "I just shouldn't have gone there; he already feels guilty and it's a low blow."

Summer gave her a look that made it clear she wasn't buying all that but had decided to let it go for now. "Well, I'll probably be back early knowing Cohen. We'll do a Valley fest with lots of chocolate and stuff tomorrow, okay?"

Marissa smiled gratefully. "Sounds good. Have a good time, Sum." She hugged her friend one more time and watched her leave, then flopped back on the bed. It looked like she was in for a long, boring night.

Ryan jogged up to the foyer when he heard the doorbell ring; sure enough Summer had come to pick them both up. She gave him the withering glare he'd been expecting when he came up. "Cohen, what's he doing here?" she snapped, directing the question at her boyfriend but still glaring at him.

"Summer, come on," Seth protested. "I hate going to these things without at least one more friend, you know that."

Summer glanced at Seth and softened somewhat. "Okay, fine. Let's go."

"Wait." Ryan caught her by the arm as she started to head out the door, then shoved his hands in his pocket nervously. "How's she doing?"

Summer narrowed her eyes at him. "She was crying for awhile. And she looked like she was trying not to cry when she left. And I hope that makes you feel as bad as it was supposed to."

Ryan flinched. "It does, don't worry," he muttered, staring down at his feet.

Summer sighed at his kicked puppy demeanor; no wonder Marissa almost always forgot why she was pissed off at him fairly quickly. "Look, I'm only going to say this because I think it needs to be said for her sake," she relented, and Ryan looked up curiously. "I know this fight started about something else, but it turned into this whole big thing…about Trey. And you know, what she said? About you thinking she's a slut? You might want to consider that she was projecting when she said that."

Ryan frowned in confusion for a minute, then what Summer was saying hit him like a fist in the gut. "You think she blames herself for what happened, like she led him on or something."

Summer shrugged unhappily. "Oldest story in the book, isn't it?"

Ryan rubbed a hand harshly over his face. The thought of Marissa believing that about herself tore him apart; he'd been so eager to get past what Trey did that he'd taken her for her word when she said she simply wanted to get past it. Obviously, not talking about it hadn't helped her at all. "Thanks," he said wearily to Summer. "I promise, whenever I can get her to talk to me I'll bring that up."

Summer eyed him, then simply nodded. "Okay. Let's go to this party."

An hour later, Ryan was having a thoroughly miserable time as he'd expected he would. The only thing that ever made these things halfway tolerable was Marissa, and not only was she not there, he had nothing better to do but stand around and beat himself up for not telling her about Theresa and compounding the problem by letting the situation with Trey go too easily. It really wasn't that different from home; he sat in a chair, stared at the wall, and thought about Marissa. Yeah, this is real different, Seth, he thought sarcastically.

"Here, dude." The guy who appeared to be in charge of drinks handed him another Coke. "Looks like you at least need to be doing something."

Ryan shook his head and wryly accepted the drink. "Thanks," he sighed, taking a sip. How pathetic was he when random people thought he was such a loser they couldn't even be nasty to him? Marissa was better than he was at these things anyway; she made him look at least semi-normal at social events.

Why was he even here? His relationship was slipping away from him over what amounted to a completely stupid fight and he was just sitting alone in a corner of some party. He should be with Marissa, making her understand. Not at a party baby-sitting Seth (who didn't even seem to need it). Suddenly surprisingly decisive, he downed the last bit of his Coke and stood up- then swayed a little as the room spun. "Whoa," he muttered, reaching blindly behind him to steady himself on the table. "What the hell?"

Oh, son of a bitch, a little, rapidly fading voice in the back of his head whispered. It had been a long time- years, in fact- but he recognized the signs. He was drunk. He'd been so caught up in thoughts of Marissa he'd stupidly accepted drinks at a party that a good eight times out of ten turned out be spiked. The alcohol had hit his system hard and fast, although he knew with his last scrap of sober thinking that he'd probably been getting drunk for awhile and barely noticed between his sappy, depressing thoughts.

He had one final coherent thought; that he probably shouldn't go near much of anyone tonight, least of all Marissa. The thought flickered for a second and then burned out.

"Have we been social long enough, Summer?" Seth whined, looking aimlessly around the party. "There has got to be something better to do with our time."

"TOO long," Summer muttered while keeping a smile plastered on her face. "Remind me to get Coop and help Ashley plan her next party; this one is lame."

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind. Where's Ryan?" Seth inquired, scanning the room. "Last time I saw him he was brooding somewhere. Let's get him and lea-" he was abruptly cut off when a pair of heavy hands slapped down on his shoulders. He momentarily thought one of the water polo players had decided to harass him after all and almost jumped when he turned around and saw Ryan behind him. "Ryan!" he protested. "Dude, not everyone is as wiry is you are; you could knock someone over…" he trailed off as he caught a good look at Ryan and realized his friend's eyes were completely glassed over. "Ryan?" he said warily. "Buddy, you okay?"

"I have to…" Ryan started to slur, then seemed to lose his train of thought for a second. "I have to get to Marissa!" he almost shouted out, and this time Seth really did jump. "She doesn't…she doesn't get it, so I have to get it for her."

Seth decided he'd stepped into some parallel universe. "Dude. You're totally wasted," he said in shock. He'd never seen Ryan drunk before and frankly didn't think he ever would, at least in high school. "Did this really require turning to alcohol?"

"I don't think he did," Summer said, staring at Ryan like he was some science experiment. "Ken Sproull is in charge of drinks; he's famous for spiking Cokes or anything that doesn't have alcohol in it. Considers it his civic duty."

"That makes more sense; Ryan was definitely out of it enough to just take a Coke." Seth sighed.

"Ssstop talking about mee like I'm nnnot here," Ryan snapped, decisively if somewhat incoherently. "Marissa. Didn' you hear me? We gotta go."

"Ryan, dude. That is NOT a good idea," Seth said warily, already envisioning a smashed Ryan knocking on an already pissed off Marissa's door.

"If you don't take me, I'm just going to take myself," Ryan said stubbornly; some of the firmness of his statement marred when he leaned against the chair behind him and almost fell over it.

Seth fought the urge to laugh as he reached out and grabbed Ryan's jacket to steady him. Summer made no such effort; he heard her snort loud and clear behind him. "Come on, dude. We'll get you home, sober you up a bit, and then you can go find Marissa if you want."

"No." Ryan shook his head vehemently. "Cause you know what, that's my fucking problem. I wait too long for shit. Tha's why I'm in this whole…no." He shook his head again. "I'm not gonna do this any…again. I gotta see Marissa now."

"Ryan…" Seth sighed.

"Maybe we should just do it," Summer suggested. Seth turned around to glare at her and she lifted her hands helplessly. "What? You can't stop Ryan from doing something when he's in his right mind; we've got a lot of pounds- mainly muscle- I might add- of a drunken lovesick puppy right now. Marissa isn't so pissed off she won't take care of him until he's sober, and at least we'd know he's in one hopefully not too destructive place."

Seth rolled his eyes. "You want him to make an ass of himself in front of Marissa, don't you?"

Summer shrugged unrepentantly. "Does that make me wrong?"

Seth sighed deeply. "Fine, fine. Come on, Ryan. We'll take you to Marissa."

"Thank you." Ryan pushed in front of him and slung an arm around Summer's shoulder, almost swallowing her with his body weight. "Thank you, Summer. Have I ever told you I like you?"

Summer laughed in spite of herself as she slid an arm around Ryan's waist, hoping he was at least steady enough to not take them both down if she supported him a little. "Thank you, Ryan. That's sweet."

Seth arched his eyebrows as he followed them out of the party. "Maybe we should call Marissa and warn her."

"Oh, hell no," Summer said breezily. "I won't lie; I'm gonna have my camera phone ready for that facial expression."

Seth attempted not to laugh. Ryan was SO going to regret this in the morning.

Well, this was a fun night.

Marissa couldn't sleep. Come to think of it, it had been awhile since she hadn't spent at least part of the evening with Ryan and she missed him. She missed his comforting weight against her, the way he would pull her closer in his sleep. And yet that ridiculous phone message and their earlier conversation wouldn't stop playing over and over again in her head; she didn't even have a second's peace.

Marissa was startled out of her thoughts by the ringing of the doorbell. "What the hell?" she muttered, glancing at the clock. Who would be here this late? She sighed heavily and dragged herself to her feet. Summer was gone and her dad was out of town, and she doubted a tornado tearing the roof off the house would wake up Summer's stepmother. "Stupid drugged out lunatic…" she muttered as she traipsed downstairs. Still grumbling, she opened the door- to see her boyfriend on the other side. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she groaned, holding her robe tighter together. "Coming in the dead of night isn't going to help your case, Ryan." With that, she slammed the door right back in his face and moved to go back upstairs.

"Marissa!" She turned around in surprise when he started banging on the door. What the hell did he think he was doing? "Marissa, if you don't open up the door, I'm gonna have to…"

"Have to what?" she shot back, moving again so she was standing on the other side of the door. "Break it down? Go home, Ryan. I'll talk to you later."

"I'll…I'll sing!" Ryan said in desperation. Marissa stepped back incredulously, wondering if she'd fallen asleep after all. Had he really said he was going to SING? Her question was answered when she heard the slurred version of what she knew was his favorite Journey song two seconds later. She pinched herself, determined to wake up from this bizarre dream. It hurt.

"Ryan, what the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, swinging the door open again. He more or less fell into the doorway and she had to catch him to keep him from falling flat on his face. "The neighbors are going to call the…" he clung to her to keep steady and it dawned on her what was going on. "Are you drunk?" she asked dumbly.

"Yeah, he is," Seth's voice called out and for the first time she looked past the stoop and saw Seth and Summer on Summer's front stairs. "He forgot the cardinal rule of Newport parties- don't accept drinks."

"Especially not from Ken Sproull," Summer said nonchalantly and suddenly Marissa saw a flash of light.

"Summer!" she protested when she realized her best friend had taken a picture. "Knock it off; you aren't helping."

Summer shrugged airily and grabbed Seth's hand. "He demanded to see you, so here he is. Enjoy! I'll be back in the morning." With that, she and Seth were off before Marissa could get another word in.

"Gee, thanks," Marissa muttered, instinctively putting a steadying arm around Ryan's waist and reaching out to shut the door and lock it with her free hand.

"Marissa," Ryan sighed, putting both arms around her and burying his face in her hair.

"Whoa!" she said, trying not to smile. As long as he hadn't gotten drunk on his own, this was harmless enough and it made her feel better in spite of herself that his instinctive drunken reaction was to seek her out. "Come on. Let's go up to my room; I doubt anything will wake Mrs. Roberts up but might not want to chance it."

"Is that woman even alive?" Ryan asked in honest confusion as she led him to the stairs.

"That's yet to be scientifically determined," Marissa said wryly, grabbing a hold of his jacket as he tripped over his own two feet on the stairs and ending up being taken down with him as he tumbled onto the stairs. "Ryan!" she laughingly protested as she landed on top of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Ryan said breathlessly, reaching up to stroke the hair off her face. "Did I hurt you?"

Marissa smiled in spite of herself; he looked so earnestly, sweetly concerned. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never seen him like this. "No, you didn't hurt me."

"Good, 'cause I think I hurt myself," Ryan groaned. Marissa burst out laughing, but was abruptly cut off when he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her mouth down to his.

For a moment, even the emotional gap between them and Ryan's drunken state couldn't distract her from the magic of his mouth. She found herself starting to put her arms around him before she snapped to it. "Down, boy," She somewhat breathlessly protested. Undeterred, Ryan simply went for her neck when she moved her lips out of reach. She almost moaned. How was he that good at this even drunk off his ass? "Ryan, come on," she halfheartedly moaned.

Ryan frowned, suddenly a pouty little boy. "You're still mad at me."

How the hell was she supposed to stay strong in the face of that? "This isn't about that, I promise," she sighed, climbing off him and pulling him up with an effort. "This is about us being on the stairs. Come on."

"I don't blame you," Ryan said mournfully as she carefully guided them up the stairs and into the room she'd claimed as hers. "I'm an asshole. I know I am."

"Ryan, this is really not the conversation to have when you're drunk," Marissa said wearily as she led him over the bed and eased him so he was sitting on it. "Let's talk about this tomorrow, okay?"

"No," Ryan said stubbornly. "It's…it's like I was telling Seth. That's my problem. I don't you about stupid, pointless shit when it happens, so then you find out anyway and you're mad at me. And then I don't tell you things, and you don't get that either. I don't tell you that I love you." He reached out to stroke her face. "I love you so much."

As soon as he uttered the words, Marissa knew she was done for. He hardly ever said them, but they made her melt inside every time. "I know that you love me," she said quietly, reaching up and taking his hand in hers.

"And Theresa…" he sighed, flopping down on the bed and grabbing her hands to pull her with him. "I just feel so fucking guilty, you know what I mean? I made her life hell because I didn't even try and then I just left, I didn't even look back. I wanted to be home, I wanted to be with you."

"Ryan…" she sighed, her heart aching when she heard the guilt and loneliness in his voice, unmarred by his usual defenses. She would have understood that if he'd told her, she wanted to say. If he'd let her see the misery in him when he talked about that summer, if he'd explained how guilty he felt because of it, she would have understood. "It's okay," she said simply aloud, knowing he wasn't in any condition to handle an actual in depth conversation instead of rambling on.

"And Trey…" he groaned. Marissa fought the instinctive urge to flinch. "I shouldn't have believed him, I shouldn't have needed Theresa to tell me he was lying…"

Marissa frowned, confused. "Lying? Ryan, what are you talking about?"

Ryan continued as if he hadn't heard her speak. "It didn't even sound like you, I told him that at the time. You would never do that. You would never hit on him."

Marissa's eyes widened as comprehension dawned. He had gone to Trey, and Trey had lied. That's why he first cancelled. That's what he must have told Theresa. "Oh, Ryan," she said softly, her heart breaking as she imagined what that must have been like for him, to be told by the older brother that for most of his life had been the closest family he had that the girl he loved had come onto him.

"I know, I should have…I shouldn't have believed him," Ryan kept repeating, either misunderstanding or simply not hearing her. Tears filled her eyes and she gently placed her finger over his lips.

"Ssssh," she said softly. "It's okay. I'm not mad anymore, I promise."

Ryan blinked up at her. "You're not? Do you still love me?"

Marissa was caught between laughter and tears at the simple, childlike question. How many times had he wondered that about how many people and had way too many defenses to voice it? "Yes, I love you," she smiled a little, stroking his face.

Ryan immediately broke into a dazzling grin and leaned in to kiss her. This time she really did laugh as she realized he was fumbling with his own shirt; he had it halfway off before she grabbed his hands. "Okay, I think it's better if we just sleep tonight," she said, trying to stifle her giggles. She'd trained him too well if this was his instinctive reaction.

"This is how I sleep," Ryan said innocently and she burst out laughing again.

"Oh really?" she said playfully. "Okay, but the shirt is as far as you're going no matter how you usually sleep." She helped him pull his shirt off and he reached for her again.

"I bet this isn't how you usually sleep either," he commented, reaching for the belt of her robe.

"Well, it is tonight," Marissa said between giggles and she playfully pushed him away. It wasn't hard; she could tell he was close to passing out as it was.

Sure enough, he only had the energy to mutter one more "Love you" and he was out. Smiling gently, she leaned in to kiss his cheek, then went to pull his boots off and carefully arranged him so he was in the center of the bed instead of on the side before climbing in next to him.

"I love you too," she whispered to his unconscious form, then snuggled against his body and settled in for sleep as well. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.