Blast From The Past Chapter Four
A/N: Now, this chapter is mainly fluff leading into a more serious next one. Marissa takes care of Hung!Over!Ryan!
The first feeling Ryan had when he woke up the next morning was one of relief and contentedness; he could feel his girlfriend's warm body next to him.
The first thought he had was that he was about to throw up.
He lurched out of bed and bolted for the bathroom, barely sinking to his knees in front of the toilet before he got sick. He didn't even realize Marissa had gotten up and followed him until he felt a warm, soft hand gently rubbing his back and neck as he threw up what felt like most of his stomach lining. God, he hadn't felt like this in years, not since Trey had talked him into getting drunk off some cheap whiskey when he was about fourteen. After what felt like forever, his stomach emptied itself of everything it finally could and he leaned his head against the porcelain of the toilet, panting. "I am so going to kick the ass of whoever spiked that drink," he muttered hoarsely.
"That would apparently be Ken Sproull," Marissa said lightly. "Heads up; I'm flushing." Ryan lifted his head a little and winced at the loud, harsh sound of the toilet flushing, then heard her moving around and the sink running. "What are you doing?" he mumbled.
"This." He felt a blessedly cool wet cloth run over the back of his neck and closed his eyes at the relief of the feeling.
"That feels good, thanks," he sighed, braving opening his eyes to look at her. She was kneeling next to him, her eyes gentle and caring.
"You going to be okay long enough for me to go get something to settle your stomach?" she asked, softly stroking his hair.
"There isn't anything in me to throw up at the moment," Ryan said wryly, wincing at the scratchy sound of his voice. "I'll be okay."
"Okay." She leaned forehead and brushed a feather-light kiss over his forehead, then climbed to her feet. "I'll be back in a minute."
"Hey," he called weakly after her and she turned around. "Thanks."
She smiled a little and blew him a kiss before leaving the bathroom. He closed his eyes and slumped against her cabinet. He was only 70 sure he wasn't going to make it through the day now.
What had happened last night? He searched his foggy memory. He recalled their argument and going to Ashley's party, he remembered realizing his drink had been spiked, and everything was hazy after that. He had only the vaguest of recollections of showing up at Marissa's doorstep. He shifted a little and groaned at the pain in his back; why the hell was that there?
Marissa came back into the bathroom within a minute and he voiced the question to her. "Is there some reason my back hurts?" he asked faintly.
Marissa laughed a little. "That would be a result of you tripping and falling on the stairs, and turning to take me with you." She set one of the glasses and a package she was carrying on the counter, then knelt beside him again. "Rinse; it's water," she ordered quietly.
Ryan obediently took a swig of water and swished it around in his mouth, then spit it back out. "I took you with me?" he repeated. "Please tell me I didn't bang you up, too."
Marissa smiled. "You know, you were even worried about that last night? No, I'm fine. You pulled me on top of you." She dumped the glass out into the sink and reached into a cabinet for a little bottle. She shook a couple pills out in her hand. "Here, aspirin and ginger ale to help with the headache and your stomach."
Ryan gratefully took what she offered and quickly knocked back the two pills; the carbonated beverage almost instantly soothed his still rolling stomach. "You are the best," he groaned sincerely. "I think I'm up to a 50/50 chance of survival now."
Marissa chuckled softly. "I'll get you back on your feet in no time, I promise. Unfortunately, I think I have more experiences with hangovers than you do," she said ruefully, sitting next to him again and rubbing the back of his neck. He almost looked more vulnerable sick than he did drunk; nothing tugged at her heartstrings more than a vulnerable Ryan.
Ryan reached up and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Does all this mean you're not pissed off anymore, or do you just feel that sorry for me? I'll take what I can get either way, just to let you know."
Marissa smiled a little sadly. "I'm not mad anymore, not at all. And I'm sorry; I feel like I overreacted now. A lot."
"No, no," Ryan started to reassure her, then looked around. "Uh, can you give me a hand up? I'd like to have this conversation anywhere other than the bathroom floor."
Marissa laughed and hopped to her feet, then put an arm around his waist to help him up. "Here, I got you some soda crackers, too," she said, reaching for the package she'd put down and putting it in his hand.
"Thanks, baby," Ryan said, kissing her hair as they slowly headed back to the bed. He collapsed on it as soon as they reached it and tugged gently at her hand. Smiling a little, she crawled in next to him and he sighed with relief at the familiar feel of her against him. "This is much better," he said huskily. "So…do I even want to know why you've forgiven me? How much of an idiot was I last night?"
"Beyond serenading me with Journey at the door?" Marissa asked airily and started giggling when he groaned. "No, really. You were sweet. It was enlightening; you're a very honest drunk."
Ryan groaned again. "Honest, huh? About what?" he asked reluctantly, unsure if he even wanted to know.
Marissa got a little more serious. "I don't think I understood about how you felt that summer in Chino until you were talking about it," she admitted, taking his hand. "I mean, I figured you were unhappy, but I just didn't understand how completely miserable you were until I heard it in your voice last night. And knowing you, you WOULD feel guilty about that, even if I don't think you have a reason to."
Ryan sighed deeply. "That's not too bad of a confession; I was going to tell you anyway. I should have explained this a long time ago. Yeah, I care about Theresa but trust me when I tell you if that summer did anything; it convinced me she and I NEVER belong in that kind of relationship. I just don't want her that way anymore. But you know…we were friends for such a long time and I felt like I threw it all away when I was so miserable all summer and when I practically ran home after the miscarriage. I just wanted to let her know I wasn't a total bastard. Maybe let myself know too."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Marissa asked in honest confusion. "I would have understood."
"Because I've seen the look on your face when Theresa shows up or gets brought up," Ryan admitted. "Even when we're not together, like that time Eddie accused me of sleeping with Theresa in Harbor, I looked over and saw this LOOK on your face before you could hide it. I just…couldn't take it. I couldn't take hurting you like that if I didn't have to." He held up a hand before she could protest. "And yeah, I know that kinda backfired and I ended up hurting you more than I would have if I'd just told you. I'll keep that in mind, I promise."
Marissa smiled a little; he looked like a scolded puppy. A miserable, sick scolded puppy. "It's not that big a deal," she assured him. "Not as much of one as I made it out to be, anyway. I don't need to keep tabs on your every move or contact with another girl; just a heads up would have been nice. Once I understood what was going on, it made sense." She bit back a grin at the almost comical look of sheer hung over misery on his face; he looked thoroughly spent by their brief little conversation. "Okay, tough guy," she lightly teased. "Enough deep talk for now; you look like you're already zoning out."
"Be nice to the wounded," he groaned and she laughed, lightly rubbing his stomach. The sound of the downstairs door opening and slamming shut startled her until she remembered Summer had spent the night at Seth's. "That must be Summer," she said, kissing his forehead and climbing out of bed. "I should go to talk to her. You going to be okay? I'll come back and check on you."
"I'll be fine," Ryan assured her, smiling faintly and kissing the back of her hand before letting it go. "I'll probably just be asleep."
"Okay," she said in the baby voice he'd always found oddly endearing. "Feel better." She blew him another kiss and walked out of the room, smiling to herself. Big bad Ryan Atwood. If people could see him now. She came face to face with Summer almost immediately, who was standing at the foot of the stairs with a satisfied smirk on her face.
"I take it all is well with lover boy again?" Summer teased her.
Marissa rolled her eyes even as she grinned at Summer. "I can't believe you just dumped him on the doorstep without warning. What if your stepmom had woken up?" she demanded as she went past Summer down the stairs.
"Please." Summer waved her hand dismissively. "An axe murderer wouldn't wake the woman up." She trailed after Marissa as Marissa wandered in to the kitchen and grabbed a box of cereal out of the cabinet. "So?" she pressed. "What happened?" She narrowed her eyes as Marissa nonchalantly shrugged. "Lest you forget, I have photos of last night."
Marissa laughed. "Fine, fine. Really, it was nothing too juicy; the funniest thing was him singing to me, which you saw, and falling on his way up the stairs. Other than that, he was just a very honest drunk and his honesty made me feel better."
"I figured it would, as much as I wanted to kick his ass yesterday," Summer admitted. "The boy loves you; there isn't any getting around that."
Marissa laughed again. "Oh, he was VERY open about that last night. Honestly, it was cute. It wouldn't have been so cute if he'd gotten drunk on his own- not that I'd have any right to blame him, but it's too sore a subject for him- but since it wasn't really his fault, it was cute." Her smile faded somewhat as she remembered the more serious parts of his drunken confessions. Some of it was too private to share with Summer, but it bothered her privately nonetheless. Sometimes it struck her just how…lonely he seemed. Even now, he had moments where it was like he was desperately lonely. It was a lot better than when she'd first met him but she sometimes wondered if they all did their part to make him not feel so alone. She didn't get the feeling she'd done a bang up job in that area last night. He had a lot of defenses up, it was true, but so did she and he'd broken through most of them.
"Hey," Summer waved a hand in front of her face. "Where did you go?"
Marissa blinked. "Oh, nowhere. Really, there isn't much else to say. Come on, let's have some breakfast." For the moment, she put aside her worries and thoughts about all of yesterday's moment to have a simple, fun morning with her best friend.
"You would never do that…I shouldn't have believed him."
Ryan opened his eyes.
Most of the previous night was still somewhat hazy, but he woke up remembering that moment clearly. He'd told Marissa about what Trey had said. "Dammit," he sighed, rolling over to sit up. He'd known he was going to have to tell her that after he'd admitted when he saw Theresa, but he'd wanted to be more…gentle somehow. Maybe that was ridiculous. How do you tell your girlfriend that your brother who tried to rape her later lied and said she came onto him? Still, he wished he'd at least been sober. He wished he'd been able to…be there for her somehow. He didn't think he'd done a very good job of being there for her about what Trey had done to her thus far; he'd wanted to switch that around.
Shaking his head a little to clear it- he still didn't exactly feel great, but the pounding headache and rolling nausea was gone- he stood up and went over to the chair where Marissa had draped his shirt, pulling it back on before heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He couldn't change what he'd said last night, but he could at least attempt a serious discussion about it today. Grabbing a cracker from the package on the dresser, he nibbled on it tentatively. When nothing threatened to come up, he figured he was safe enough and wandered downstairs.
The sound of female giggling led him to the kitchen. He stopped dead in the doorway, caught between laughing and feeling somehow sad. Marissa and Summer were standing in the middle of the kitchen, covered in flour and giggling hysterically. Sometimes he was faintly envious of the simplicity of their friendship, of the way Summer could always make her smile, of how Marissa always trusted Summer enough to tell her just about anything. He was glad Marissa had such a loyal friend and he'd become very protective of and dependent on the bond all four of them shared, but every time he saw her laughing with Summer like this when he hadn't made her laugh so hard in awhile, his heart momentarily responded with a pang, before the simply joy of seeing her unrestrained smile took over and made HIM smile. "Hey," he spoke up from the doorway. "What happened to you two?"
Marissa turned and gave him the same brilliant smile she'd been aiming at Summer, washing anyway any of his silly dark thoughts. "Despite numerous warnings that all I can make is fudge and macaroni and cheese, not to mention despite the fact that we've never done anything close to the sort in our lives, Summer wanted to try and make brownies from scratch. We barely made it past the flour, so I went back to fudge. You up for a taste?' She held out a spoon to him.
"I think I'll live," he laughed a little, walking further into the kitchen and tasting the fudge. "Mmmm, good." He leaned over and gave her a kiss. "Good morning. Or close enough."
Marissa smiled and stroked his face lightly. "Good morning. You look like you're feeling better."
"I am." He rubbed her back gently and then realized Summer was staring at him obviously trying not to laugh. "What?" he said warily.
"Nothing…Journey boy," she teased, bursting into giggles at his dark glare. "Oh, don't even give me that look. You liked me last night; you told me so."
Ryan shook his head and laughed in spite of himself. He was never living this down.
"Well, I'm going to go change," Summer said, still laughing. "I'll see if I can find where Cohen is, too. I'll see you guys later." She wandered out of the kitchen and Ryan took a seat at the counter, watching his girlfriend move around. She looked so happy and content, like such a normal girl doing normal things. He questioned how wise it would be to upset the balance. He questioned his own ability to go through this. Still, he knew problems would keep coming up if they didn't make some attempt to deal with it.
"Ryan?" Ryan started and realized Marissa was staring at him curiously. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, exactly," he sighed. "It's just….Marissa, we've got to talk."