Sandy's barely holding on. Meanwhile, Kirsten writes a letter to Ryan from rehab, before she learns of the shooting and surrounding drama. There are things she needs to explain. But a shattered Ryan knows everything has changed …
Disclaimer: I own nothing. No characters, no concept, nothing. Just borrowing, for a few pages, okay?
A/N: Sigh… I suppose this is now AU.
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Time: Morning of Day 5
The pounding surf and the lonely cry of seagulls split the morning stillness, as Sandy surveyed his surroundings. Soon more people would arrive, but for now, Ryan and he shared this isolated seascape with only a few fishermen and a couple of joggers.
As he walked north along the Pacific, Sandy sensed the renewal he always associated with mornings at the shore. The sand appeared smooth and unblemished, as the tides had erased and washed clean any scars from yesterday. The waves rolled infinitely toward the shore, and back out again, unstoppable and free. Eternal. Here, he felt his spirit nurtured. His equilibrium restored. He glanced across at Ryan, hoping the boy might find renewal, too.
The teenager's gaze was focused out over the Pacific, but he appeared to be concentrating on something other than the view. The boy was predictably quiet, his only visible language the intermittent crinkle of blond eyebrows, and the constant kneading of one arm while he walked.
While he was sure Ryan would prefer the quiet, the boy was struggling on so many levels. As his parent, Sandy ruefully admitted he was still learning. But this much he knew – sometimes it's a parent's job to ignore what your child wants, and give him what he needs. And Ryan needed words…
"Care to share?" he finally asked his foster-son.
Ryan jerked his head, almost startled, and bit his lip. "Sorry. I was just thinking about Kirsten."
Sandy thought again how Ryan's eyes were so much more expressive than his words, providing his strongest clues to the boy's hidden thoughts and feelings. This morning, their blue depths were teeming with anxiety.
Sighing, Sandy answered, "I promised we'd talk more about Kirsten, and we will, Ryan. Like I said on the phone last evening, she made it absolutely clear to me and to the counselors that you were hers, Ryan. Trust me, kid – she's not about to let you go. But can we hold that discussion for a little while? Just until a little later this morning?"
Ryan nodded his acquiescence, but frowned. He looked sideways at his guardian, and asked softly, "You want to talk more about Trey, don't you?"
"I think I have to." Sandy hoped the teenager would allow the topic to stay open. He was sure he was reaching his foster son's limits regarding Trey, but Ryan needed to hear what he had to say.
Ryan's head ducked down, and then rose, as the boy took a deep breath and asked, "Are you … disappointed … that I don't want to see him? Trey?"
"Disappointed? Absolutely not." Sandy stopped walking, waiting for a moment to see if Ryan would do the same. When the teenager halted, and turned to him, Sandy continued. "When or if you choose to see Trey is entirely up to you, Ryan. I'll support whatever you want to do, with this stipulation – I want to be with you if you do decide to see him."
The teenager stared at him, brows slightly drawn together, as though trying to read behind his words. At last the boy spoke hesitantly, "Then I don't understand. What more is there to say?"
Sandy noted Ryan's neat side-step of his stipulation. They could deal with that later, though, because that was not the conversation Sandy had in mind for this morning.
Trying to keep his voice steady, Sandy answered, "I want to talk about my role in this mess, Ryan. You refused to hear me out on this earlier, but I need you to listen now…" he saw the boy's head dip, as his body stiffened. "Ryan?"
Sandy waited for a moment, before prompting, "Please?"
The teen's eyes lifted, and Sandy could detect the smallest movement of eyebrows as Ryan breathed, "I'll try."
"That's all I'm asking, Ryan," Sandy assured the teenager, reaching out to squeeze one shoulder briefly before he spoke again. Rewarded with a fleeting glance, resigned though it appeared, he plunged ahead.
"I should have paid attention to what you were saying, Ryan, when you tried to tell me that you didn't want your brother in Newport." He held up a hand to forestall Ryan's protest, as he pressed ahead, "That was a mistake on so many levels. First, because I'm always asking you to talk to me, and yet when you did, I didn't listen. Next, and this flows from my not listening, I made bad assumptions. I thought you were probably worried about the expense, or that Trey's presence would be an imposition for our family. And I assumed if it weren't for those considerations, you'd really like to have your brother near you. I have to admit, at the time I honestly thought I knew better than you did what was best for both of you."
Sandy paused, shaking his head in self-reproach. He snorted disgustedly, as he made his last confession, "Then, to make matters even worse, I didn't play the parental role I should have once Trey was in Newport."
Ryan stood so still that Sandy wasn't sure he breathed. At last the boy raised his head and looked at his guardian with unsteady eyes. "You didn't know Trey," he said simply.
"That's my point, Ryan. I didn't know Trey. I should have heeded the advice of the one person who did. You." He looked at his foster son, his face contrite, as he said softly, "I'm so sorry, son, that I didn't listen. I hope you can forgive me."
The boy's eyes blinked in surprise, as he turned suddenly away to stare out at the sea. "But the whole thing with Trey was my fault, Sandy. He was my family, and my responsibility."
Sandy grimaced, as he heard the words he had expected. His foster son continued to gaze out across the Pacific, his arms now folded across his chest.
He took a few steps closer, so that he stood behind Ryan, and said firmly, "It doesn't work that way, Ryan. I forced him into your life – into all our lives. I'm the parent – I'm your guardian. I should have been vigilantly protecting your welfare – looking out for you. But I didn't do that – I left you to deal with Trey on your own, and even if things had not turned out like they did, that was a huge mistake on my part. You're seventeen, kid. And that's far too young to assume responsibility for someone as complicated and disruptive as Trey. You needed me to do my job, and the fact is – I didn't. I let you down."
While Sandy spoke, Ryan's head turned back slightly toward his guardian. Sandy could see the blackened eye from this angle, its eyelid closed. He hoped Ryan had not closed his mind as well… He stepped up beside the boy, placing his hand on the teen's back as he said softly, "As much as I wish it were possible, I can't change what I did, Ryan, or what I didn't do. But I've learned from my mistakes, and I promise you I'll do my utmost never to repeat them going forward."
Sandy felt Ryan's weight shift slightly, as the boy angled his body a few degrees in his direction. The blue eyes opened, and glanced quickly at him, before focusing somewhere past Sandy's shoulder. Ryan pointed out, "You didn't decide to confront Trey. Or refuse to back down when he pulled a gun…"
Sandy dropped his hand and blew out a loud breath. "You don't want to argue relative responsibility with me, kid. You're going to lose that argument…"
Ryan blinked, as though confused. Then his expression settled into skepticism.
Sandy reacted, "Look, I'm not trying to insult your intelligence, Ryan. I'm not saying that you didn't make some big mistakes, too. But the fact is, if I had done my job, either Trey wouldn't have been in Newport in the first place, or I would have been scrutinizing his actions. And I would have been calling him on any misconduct. That job would not have fallen to you."
"But you didn't know the stuff he'd done. I never told … that is, I didn't come to you. I mean, you know, about Trey's behavior." Ryan's eyes met his for one long moment, before the boy dropped them repentantly.
"Yeah, that much I do know. But I also know I didn't ask the questions I should have been asking. For example, about what happened at the charity auction. And I promise you, we're going to talk about all that, kid. But for right now, here's what I'd like you to understand. You can count on my being much more present going forward."
Ryan grimaced, "So, that means more questions?"
Sandy shrugged, "That means I'm going to be watching out for you – for both of you guys – a lot more closely. Be available whenever you need me. And yeah, probably ask a lot more questions. Unless…" he let his voice trail off.
"Unless what?"
"What do you think?" Sandy prodded.
Ryan frowned, and scraped his boot in the sand. "Unless I come to you first?" he asked.
Sandy pursed his lips, and nodded. He reached out and patted Ryan's shoulder, as he smiled, "I'm thinking that'd be good, kid. For both of us… I'd like to think I could count on that."
Ryan nodded, drawing his lips into a line, before mumbling "Understood."
"Good," Sandy smiled approvingly at his foster son, although he recognized that the teenager's acquiescence wasn't absolute. But he was pleased that the teen had listened to his confession. And hoped that over time, Ryan would release some of the responsibility he hoarded.
"Let's go, kid," Sandy encouraged, as he struck out north once more. Ryan hesitated only a second before he fell in step, looking across at his guardian as they walked.
The teenager's eyes blinked, as he seemed to muster up his courage. His voice sounded uncertain as he spoke again, "You haven't … I mean, you've never set any penalty…" He raised his eyebrows as his voice trailed off.
Sandy shook his head, and then caught Ryan's eyes with his, as he said gently, "I've been watching you beat yourself up for days, Ryan. I've felt like I ought to save you from yourself – that I should try to lesson your pain, rather than add to it."
Ryan frowned, and averted his eyes, but said nothing.
Sandy sighed, sensing that this kid would continue eating himself alive with guilt. He wondered if it would not be wiser to impose some sort of penalty he could control. Maybe it could even work to Ryan's advantage…
Hesitating just a moment, Sandy offered, "But don't worry, Ryan. I'm not letting you off without some form of atonement. Let's talk about a piece of that now."
The teenager observed unhappily, "It sounds like you're planning to do a lot of talking…"
Sandy glanced across at his foster-son, and said lightly, "Yeah? Well, consider that the first part of your penance, kid. Lots of talking coming your way today…"
A small grimace crossed the boy's face, as he responded, "Cruel, but I guess not exactly unusual…"
Sandy laughed, and raised his eyebrows, "You haven't heard the next part yet, my friend. Ryan's Penance, Part Two. I want you to promise me you'll listen."
The teen scanned Sandy's face, uncertain. "Just listen?" he asked, his voice flavored with skepticism.
Keeping his voice light, Sandy cautioned, "It might prove harder than you think…"
The boy drew his lips together, as he walked in silence.
Sandy edged closer to the teen as he asked more seriously, "Will you promise me you'll listen, Ryan? No matter how uncomfortable the words may make you? I mean really listen…"
Ryan halted, and Sandy did the same. The boy's blue eyes met his guardian's, as he swallowed hard. Blond head nodding faintly, the teenager accepted Sandy's sentence, "Okay. I promise."
Sandy smiled as he threw an arm across Ryan's shoulders and propelled the boy forward once more. "Well, that works for me, kid. 'Cause one thing I know about you – you don't make promises lightly…"
Sandy felt the teenager's shoulders register shock as he recognized his words. He could almost hear the boy's mind racing…
>>>>>>>
Ryan had been off-balance all morning, but with Sandy's line about promises, he'd crossed into uneasiness.
Sandy must have talked to Kirsten about his email, but no one was saying anything to him about what he'd tried to tell her. That couldn't be good… And yet, Sandy hadn't sounded disturbed. Could that mean they understood his fears, and forgave his lies? That they still wanted him around? Or was it just that they somehow still didn't get how screwed up he was?
He guessed that could be part of all the stuff Sandy wanted to discuss. But as much as he knew they needed to have that conversation, the thought of it frightened him. What would they want, once they understood his demons? Not knowing, he could hold onto hope. But knowing could be so final…
His unease only heightened as they continued their walk. Sandy stayed silent, allowing Ryan almost too much time to think. The fears he harbored pulled at him like undercurrents, the weight of Sandy's arm still across his shoulders an anchor in their wake. Acting like his lifeline. Keeping him from drifting out too deep.
Reaching a point where the beach dead-ended into a rocky butte, he assumed they'd turn around and head back. Instead, Sandy insisted that they climb an almost hidden path twisting steeply up from the shore. Not feeling like he was in any position to protest, he submissively followed Sandy up the winding pathway.
At the top of the path, along the ridgeline of the rise, they came upon a wall with a metal barred security gate blocking their way forward. The gate was complete with cameras and an electronic keypad, and was posted with serious looking 'Private Property' and 'Violators Will Be Prosecuted' signs. Ryan took one look at the barrier, and turned back toward the beach, but his foster father unaccountably lingered behind.
After only a few seconds Sandy called for him to come back. He obeyed reluctantly, only to find the gate standing open, and Sandy motioning for him to pass through. Eyeing his guardian dubiously, Ryan complied. Sandy closed the gate behind them, the sound of the metal bars falling securely into place causing Ryan to flinch, and catch his breath. God, how he hated that sound…
Ryan found himself following Sandy down a set of stairs carved into the rock, as he observed his guardian closely.
"So where are we, anyway?" he finally asked his foster father.
Sandy didn't slow down, as he cryptically threw back over his shoulder, "Where we'll be having breakfast."
"Well, that certainly clears things up," Ryan muttered.
"Glad I could help," Sandy said too cheerfully for Ryan's liking. He rolled his eyes at Sandy's back, but decided against asking again for information. He figured he'd find out soon enough…
>>>>>>>
The stairs ended in a thicket of pine and palm trees, with dense tropical foliage blocking any view of the Pacific. Ryan stayed a few feet behind his guardian, as Sandy struck out on a pine-straw covered pathway leading to the shore. When Sandy halted, Ryan pulled up beside him, awestruck. The beach here was completely deserted, with soft grass and flower beds reaching out to meet the shore. Separating the beach from the greenery, three or four irregularly spaced rows of palm trees swayed in the breeze, creating a thick canopy of shade and shadow. Barely visible under the palms, teak tables and chairs were grouped invitingly.
To the right, the beach seemed to stretch for at least a mile, while to the left some large boulders acted like a screen, isolating maybe three hundred feet of beach from easy view. Ryan followed Sandy as he nipped left around the boulders. In the alcove, a palm tree jutted nearly horizontally from the shore, while a tumble of boulders from the butte spilled into the Pacific, perfect for climbing or sitting on.
The same rows of palms separated the shore from the lush vegetation beyond the sand, and the private alcove held its own table and chairs. However, unlike the other ones which had been visible, this table was surrounded with tubs of ice containing juices, water, yogurt, cheeses, and milk. On the table, baskets of bread and pastries, and bowls of papaya, oranges, melon, grapes, and berries completed the offering. Plates, silverware, napkins, and glasses were arranged on a separate serving stand, together with vases of fresh flowers, and coffee, tea, and condiments.
Ryan watched as Sandy rubbed his hands together, and grinned approvingly. "Sometimes, you just gotta' love California…"
Ryan stared at the fare spread out before him, thinking that he couldn't eat a bite. His stomach felt like someone was grinding glass inside it. He tried to think of some positive response, when a movement around one of the boulders caught his eye. He blinked several times to ensure he was seeing clearly, as Seth ambled into the alcove.
The dark-haired teenager complained, "Father, not that I don't enjoy being out of school as long as possible, but don't you think you should have called to say you'd be a little tardy? You know, so I wouldn't worry? I mean, come on – you're always telling us that's part of what our cell phones are for."
Sandy raised his eyebrows, "So you do pay attention to what I say? Useful knowledge, son. Thanks for sharing."
"Uh, don't get too comfortable with that thought, Dad," Seth warned, before turning to Ryan. "Hey, buddy. Good walk with the paternal unit? Did he keep up his end of the conversation?"
Ryan gave his friend a half-smile, as he answered affably, "Funny thing – your dad uses only about half as many words as you, dude. And yet, I actually understand about twice as much of what he's saying…"
Seth frowned, "So you're saying you only understand what? Like a quarter of what I say?"
"That'd be pretty much on the high end…" Ryan smirked, glancing at his guardian, who had come up beside him.
Sandy patted him on the arm and grinned. "That much, hum? Damned impressive, kid."
"You're both hilarious. Only without being, you know… funny," Seth scoffed.
Ryan found himself smiling a little more, much to his surprise. Seth's presence, though unexpected, was very welcome. Maybe Seth's waterfalls of words would take the focus off of him. Just as he was even warming up to the idea of breakfast, he noticed the look that passed between Seth and Sandy, before their eyes fell on him. He suddenly had the sense that he was about to be breakfast.
His comfort level dropped instantly into the danger zone, as he edged back a few steps, and asked, "What's going on?"
Seth's face contorted, "Welcome to the newest form of Cohen family gathering. What we like to call … an 'Intervention'."
Ryan's eyes grew wide, as Seth's words registered. Did they think he was on drugs? Had they realized how far he had tripped out the other day, and made more wrong assumptions? Or did they think the whole thing with Trey was alcohol or drug induced? Or was it because of the email to Kirsten? He felt his breathing quicken, as he struggled to respond.
"Look, I don't know what you guys are thinking, but I swear to you, I'm not using anything…" he managed, forcing himself to meet Sandy's eyes while he spoke.
He thought he saw a surprised look cross his guardian's face, as Sandy closed the space separating them. Ryan resisted the urge to retreat further, ducking his head instead. Assuming a position which felt a little safer.
His guardian assured him, "Ryan, we know that. That's not what this is about."
Ryan looked up at Sandy, comforted that he wasn't being accused of something he didn't do. But he also knew he had done plenty they could call him on. That he should have to answer for. Only why here? And why both of them?
Sandy's eyes seemed to reach out to Ryan, as he elaborated, "But we do want to have your full attention, and make sure you listen to what we have to say."
Ryan felt like his lungs had thick rubber bands wrapped around them, keeping them from expanding like they should. He had no idea what Seth and Sandy wanted to say to him, but he didn't think he wanted to know. He ducked his head once more, and backed a few steps away from Sandy. "I don't want to do this, guys. I'd just like to just go home, okay?" He glanced at Sandy.
His guardian's eyes were soft, as he said gently, "You promised you'd listen, Ryan."
As if he needed the reminder, Ryan thought. He made himself look up at Sandy. His voice felt like it was stuck inside his throat as he spoke, "I know…" Ryan closed his eyes, as he battled with his demons. But he didn't have the strength…
As fear won out, Ryan hung his head, "It won't be the first time I've let you down." He bit his lip as he turned quickly around, determined that he was leaving.
Only Kirsten blocked his exit.
Déjà vu, he thought, as he stood frozen in place. He felt himself flushing, as her eyes traveled up and down his body, before settling on his face. God, what must she be thinking? He stared at the sand, looking up at her through his eyelashes, embarrassed. Anxious. And yet, it was so goodto see her.
Ryan watched as a slow smile lit Kirsten's face. She then cocked her head to the side, and held out her arms for him to step inside. He swallowed, thinking how often she spoke without words. And yet, how much she said.
Ryan thought of all the reasons he should resist her invitation, but not one of them outweighed the strength of her smile, or the thought of her touch. Ignoring every instinct to flee, he surrendered to her embrace. The reward outweighed the risk.
She seemed thinner, and more fragile, but she hugged him tightly, whispering "I've missed you so much, Ryan."
"Suriak," he managed to say. Not a question, but a statement. One that Kirsten confirmed with a tiny nod of her head. He stepped back from her arms, and glanced at Sandy and Seth. "All of you?" he asked. When he saw three heads nod, he shook his head, bewildered. "But why?"
Kirsten said quietly, "You had the courage to speak up at my intervention. You knew how important it was for me to understand that I had a problem, and that I needed help. I've got to admit, I never appreciated how powerful a forum like that could be. But I'm convinced that it helped me see a truth that I might never have recognized on my own. That's why we wanted to approach you this way."
Before Ryan could say anything, he heard Sandy's voice behind him, "We're concerned, Ryan, that you don't understand your place inside our family – how much you mean to each of us. We each simply want to share our thoughts with you."
Kirsten tagged in, "I think, if you are willing to give this a chance, you may be surprised, in a very good way…"
Ryan wasn't sure he could define his feelings at this moment. These people mystified him – he went after his brother like Cain after Abel, and instead of hammering him for his assorted sins, they wanted to tell him how much he means to them? Were they crazy? Was it because of what he wrote?
He took a deep breath, relieved his lungs were working better. "Look, guys – I'm sorry for everything I've done that made you think you needed to do … this. If this is all because of the letter, maybe I can explain it better, but I'm really sorry." He split his gaze between Kirsten and Sandy as he apologized.
His foster parents moved toward him. Kirsten's wide blue eyes sparkled with moisture as she told him softly, "Honey, I'm so glad you wrote to me. Your words were beautiful, and amazingly honest. And very powerful…" She tilted her head at him and smiled, brushing his face with her palm, before dropping her hand to rest lightly on his arm.
He blinked as he stared at his foster mother, his own eyes misty. He felt Sandy's hand on his back, as his foster father stepped up beside him. "I'm proud of you, Ryan. It took a lot of courage to expose your feelings like you did." Sandy's voice was low, and warm.
Ryan closed his eyes, drawing his arms tightly around his waist as he fought back his urge to flee. He felt his guardians' hands as they both remained connected, silently lending him strength. Maybe he could do this. Keep his promise to Sandy. Not let Kirsten down. Not run away from Seth.
But there could be no more hiding his own internal truths – he owed them at least that much. Because they knew only his façade – and how much differently would they feel about the kid underneath? What would he mean to them? Whoever the hell he was…
He could feel his heart beat wildly inside his chest as he looked up and whispered, "So, how is this gonna' work?"
>>>>>>>
Sandy squeezed his shoulder, before dropping his hand. His guardian then stepped up beside his wife, smiling warmly at Kirsten. Ryan watched their hands meet, and their fingers intertwine, as Sandy answered his question, "Seth will go first, because he's going back to school. Seth?"
He heard Seth speaking from the direction of the table, "Yeah, I'm the lead-off swatter."
Ryan turned to face the other teen. "Batter, Seth," Ryan corrected without thinking.
He glanced a little apprehensively at his foster parents before stepping away from them and walking over to where Seth was sitting. As he grabbed the back of the chair opposite his friend, leaning against it for support, he was surprised to see the teen stuffing the last bite of a cream-cheese covered bagel into his mouth. Seth must have been eating while Kirsten and Sandy were speaking. How could he do that? Ryan hadn't intended to glare at his friend, but Seth's reaction told him that he must have.
The dark-haired boy chewed quickly, gulping his last mouthful and looking like he'd been caught cheating on a test. Seth mopped at his mouth with a cloth napkin, and explained, "Sorry, man, but my stomach was screaming. Obey your stomach, dude – treat it like you want it to treat you, 'cause a happy tummy is your best friend."
Seth stopped his rambling abruptly, saying, "Scratch that, man, 'cause it's so not true. Because you're the best friend anyone could ever have. I mean, before you came to live with us, my life pretty much sucked. There wasn't anyone in Newport that I could even talk to, dude. My lot in life was pretty much being the guy the jocks liked to pick on, and the girls ignored. Like, you remember how Summer didn't even know I existed. And then you showed up, and everything changed.
"I pretty much owe all the changes for the good to you, man. Like, for the first time ever, someone got me. And you listen, buddy – even when I ramble, which I know I do sometimes. Well, maybe most of the time, but still, you listen."
Ryan felt a little embarrassed to hear Seth's words, especially the part about listening. Because the fact was he tuned out tons of the stuff Seth said. It also felt weird with Sandy and Kirsten listening, but at least it was nothing that his friend hadn't said to him before. He moved around the chair and sat down as the Seth paused, wondering if he was supposed to say something.
Luckily, his friend continued, "But that's not the most important thing, Ryan. You taught me all kinds of cool stuff, too. And I don't mean just the really good stuff like, you know, our little chats about S-E-X."
"Seth," Ryan quickly growled, glancing at his foster-parents to gage their reaction to Seth's slip.
"We can spell, son," Sandy cautioned, while Kirsten pressed her face into her husband's shoulder, groaning.
Seth had seen the same reaction. "Yeah, moving on…" The lanky teenager turned his attention back to Ryan. "It's just that you've, you know – been around, seen things, done things. You know stuff, dude. You're like the coolest guy I know, and yet you still hang out with me. And you make me better – you help me see things differently. See other possibilities. Your just being around gives me confidence I never felt before. Like, I always know you'll have my back. That you're here for me, man. And that's awesome." Seth smiled earnestly, before continuing.
"And I know I can be a little self-absorbed – well, maybe a lot self-absorbed some – okay, more like most – of the time. And I'm sorry when that translates into not respecting your rights or your wishes. It's just that when you don't tell me what you want or what you like, and there's any type of void, I'm gonna' fill it with my own stuff. I'm pretty much a void-filler…" Seth paused, and frowned. "Do you know what I mean?"
"Rarely," Ryan muttered, to cover his embarrassment.
For once Seth seemed to pay attention, as his eyebrows drew together. One hand formed an 'L' with thumb and forefinger, and the dark-haired teen used it expressively to emphasize his point. "Then let me rephrase. What I'm trying to say here is that I hope you let me know what you'd like more often. Like, I'm glad that you've started letting me know when I cross your lines, man – and I hope you keep doing that, except when you're telling me, please bear in mind that I'm pretty much anti-pain." Seth rubbed his shoulder, as though recalling one of Ryan's more direct nonverbal-grams.
As Ryan wondered what his guardians thought of that little revelation, Seth hastened forward, "But seriously, I'd do anything to prove how much having you in the family means to me. I'll turn over a new leaf. A whole pile of leaves, if that's what it'd take to convince you how much having you with us means to me. Like, we could have 'Ryan' days where you'd get your way all day. Or we can come up with some other arrangement – what I'm saying is that I'm ready to find something that works for you, man.
"Because here's the bottom line – I always dreamed about having a brother, and your being part of our family made that dream come true. Although, I mean, I know that you don't actually call me brother, but I can live with that. Like I said, whatever works for you, man – that's cool. But I just want you to know that for me, things like support, respect, honor, trust, loyalty … those things are a lot more important than shared DNA. So, don't wig out, Ryan, but the fact is I couldn't love you anymore if we were, you know, way more related."
Seth's eyes locked onto Ryan's, their liquid brown honesty unmistakable.
Ryan blinked, surprised. While what Seth said wasn't anything that Ryan hadn't pretty much known before, he had not been prepared for how much hearing the words spoken aloud, particularly in front of Sandy and Kirsten, somehow heightened their impact. He felt compelled to offer Seth something honest in return. Starting with the truth about his deepest fear.
He leaned forward, and asked quietly, "But what if I hurt you one day, Seth? You've seen me go off, man." He saw Sandy start to move toward them, before Seth held up a hand to stop him.
Seth crossed his arms, and stared straight across at Ryan. "You'd never hurt me, Ryan."
"How can you be so sure?" Ryan asked, startled a little by the conviction in his friend's response.
Seth spoke with utter confidence. "Because, dude, I know you."
Ryan shook his head, baffled by Seth's blind faith. A faith he didn't share. "Well, that's more than I know…" He glanced up at his foster-parents, to make sure they were listening. Hoping they would understand his fear.
He couldn't read their faces, but he did see something else. His guardians stood side by side, speaking a silent language comprised of nothing more than glances, intertwined fingers, and gentle touches. A language that Ryan knew had been missing lately from their repertoire. It was good to see it back, even though he was sure they were still rediscovering some of their 'words'.
He felt comforted somehow, as he turned back to Seth. The other teenager was watching him closely. Waiting for him to focus. Wanting something more. He couldn't share Seth's confidence in his better angels, but there was something else he could share with Seth. A different form of comfort.
Ryan drew a deep breath, before offering, "Seth, just so you know, man – I really don't mind that you call me 'brother', because I know you mean something when you use the term. But you've got to understand – for me, the word 'brother' doesn't have such great connotations right now."
Ryan watched Seth's eyebrows raise and lower, a less-bushy imitation of his father. The curly head nodded slightly, looking a little saddened. Ryan hastened to explain, "But Seth, you're my best friend – and I've never had one of those before. For me, for right this minute, that's better than having a brother."
The corners of Seth's mouth turned up slightly, as the boy tried to smile. Ryan hesitated just a second, steeling himself to speak a truth he hadn't voiced, but that Seth surely knew. "And trust me, Seth. For me to say I love you like a best friend means a hell of a lot more than my saying I love you like a brother. Because the fact is I'm not feeling a whole lot of brotherly love these days… I need to keep that separate right now." He stopped, and swallowed, adding, "Just … just give me some time, okay?"
Seth nodded, and then really smiled, showing his dimples. His smile rose, and settled in his brown eyes, as he answered, "That works for me, Ryan. For now. You, brother. Me, best friend. Kind of the best of both worlds, dude."
Ryan smiled back. "Yeah, I guess it kinda' is."
>>>>>>>
Although Seth protested, Sandy and Kirsten sent him back home to school, saying that they wanted to speak with Ryan alone. While some part of Ryan would miss the support he knew Seth offered, he was relieved that his friend would not be there for what would come next. It would be easier to talk to his guardians without worrying about Seth's reaction to things that might be said.
Once Seth departed, Sandy and Kirsten led Ryan out to the palm tree jutting horizontally from the sand. Kirsten sat down, and patted the space to her left, indicating that Ryan should join her. Sandy moved slightly away from them, where the trunk rose higher off the sand. He leaned sideways against the trunk, so that he looked down at Ryan and Kirsten.
Ryan turned to Kirsten when she touched his hand. "I'm going next, honey, because I can't wait another minute to talk to you. I wanted to call you last night, but I was afraid that it would be too easy to misunderstand one another over the telephone. I wanted to be able to touch you. To see your eyes, and make sure you saw mine."
Ryan felt his ears burning, as he thought again of what he'd said in his letter. He felt foolish, and very young. He clenched his jaws, and made himself look her in the eyes. She deserved that, no matter how embarrassed he was. "I understand."
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, that you had to wait all these days. And I'm even sorrier that I haven't made it absolutely clear to you just how much you mean to me. I hate knowing that you wondered for even an instant whether I'd want you to stay with us. I mean, Ryan, I think of you as mine – I wish I'd thought to tell you that. I guess … I just assumed you knew…"
Ryan bit his lip, hard. He wanted to believe her words, but she, like Seth, had ignored his demons. He started to explain his fears, but she squeezed his hand, and shook her head. "I'd like you to listen first, Ryan," she said, her voice gently insistent. "Before you say anything, okay?"
He stared at her hand on his, as she pressed her fingers between his own, like roots sinking deeply into soil. He slowly nodded his affirmation.
Satisfied, she wound her fingers tighter around his as she said, "I want you to know that I think of you as my son, in every way that matters to me. And I'm not about to let you go, Ryan, no matter what. "
She bounced the hand she held, as though signaling the importance of the words to follow. "I want you to understand that I love you unconditionally. That my feelings for you are not based on how good you are, or how well you do in school, or how well you blend into Newport. Or how good a friend you are to Seth. You don't have to earn a place in my heart, or in our family, Ryan. That's not how it works, honey. The simple fact is, you're part of us now. We're just not complete without you anymore."
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, as he heard words he'd only fantasized about. God, he wished they could be true, but he knew she still hadn't seen inside him. She couldn't have, he thought bleakly. He shook his head, unable to form the words he had to say.
She frowned, misinterpreting his silence, as she said hesitantly, "It's no wonder you have doubts about my feelings. I'm thinking now about the mixed messages I've been sending this past year. Can we talk about that?"
Ryan looked at her, thrown further off-balance by what she'd just said. "I don't know what you mean," he responded, his voice not deserting him like it had before, on the other topic. The one that scared him so much more.
She looked at him gently, her eyes soft. "For instance, when I found out you were dating Lindsay, I acted more like my father than I care to think about – with you and with Lindsay. And then I wasn't there for you when she left so suddenly – I knew that you were hurting, but I allowed myself to be distracted by other things."
"But I didn't tell you about Lindsay, until you…" He broke off, embarrassed to think about her walking in on their half-naked embrace. "I mean, I shouldn't have withheld the truth. And I certainly understand that you had a lot more important things to deal with than my stuff." He looked down at his feet, and scuffing the sand.
Kirsten's reaction was swift, as she leapt up and circled in front of him, sitting on her heels in the sand, with her hands resting on his knees. He found himself staring down into her wide blue eyes, as she reached up to stroke his hair. Her voice reminded him of maple syrup, sweet and strong at the same time, as she said, "Ryan, sweetheart – nothing is more important than the welfare of one of my sons! Or, at least it shouldn't be."
Startled by the force of her reaction, he averted his eyes from her face, and stammered the only thing he could think of to say. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head, grabbing his hands in hers as she stood up. "No, honey. I'm the one who should apologize."
She dropped his hands, as she sat back down beside him, sliding one arm around his waist. He felt her hand under his chin, as she gently steered his face toward hers. She lowered her hand slowly, as though waiting to make sure he wouldn't look away. She tilted her head, pain evident on her face and in her eyes, as she said softly, "I'm sorry for all the ways I failed you this year. Not standing up to my father for being so hateful to you. Not watching out for you when Trey came to Newport. But especially the alcohol, Ryan. God, I am so sorry I let you down that way, after all you've lived through." She stopped, and swiped at her eyes, before she continued speaking.
"And no matter how generous you are with your forgiveness, I know it must have hurt to hear my words at the intervention." The hand at his waist slid up to the center of his back, as she said softly, "Ryan, you said my letting you into our family was the best thing that ever happened to you. Well, it works two ways, sweetheart. Because the fact is, your saying 'yes' to my invitation was the best thing that ever happened to our family."
He blinked, and looked away. She was talking to the someone else he'd role-played, wasn't she? Because how could those words really be for him? And what did she mean she'd let him down? Didn't she get what was important? They'd fed him, clothed him, educated him. And kept him safe from pain…
She touched his arm with her other hand, as she asked, "Do you understand what I'm saying, Ryan?"
He turned his eyes to hers, not sure how to respond. But he had to answer her question. She was waiting.
"Some things, maybe. But not really everything," he finally answered truthfully. Seeing the troubled look she gave him, he took a breath, and tried to explain. "I mean, all that stuff about letting me down? Kirsten, I don't expect anything more from you guys. What you've already done for me is way more than I deserve. I mean, honestly, you guys have given me so much – you opened up your home, and gave me a safe place to stay when I had nowhere else to go, and no one to turn to. That's more than I ever dreamed of having. So, you don't have to worry, okay?"
Ryan saw the look Kirsten shot her husband, but had no clue what she was saying.
"Can we just stop?" he asked, afraid that he'd said something wrong. That if they continued, he'd say something worse.
Sandy spoke up, shaking his head, "I'm thinking this conversation is way overdue. And if I didn't realize how much we needed to talk before, I do now, Ryan. So, sorry, but no reprieve, son."
Ryan felt his body stiffen as he saw the deep concern etched on Sandy's face. How would that face appear when Ryan summoned up the courage to reveal the truth? Would it reflect repulsion? Or disappointment? Or maybe something else?
Sandy's hand grazed his shoulder, bringing him back to the moment, as the senior Cohen offered, "But let's take a break, shall we? I could use some juice, before all the ice melts." Ryan saw the glance that passed between his foster-parents, certain their secret language was re-establishing itself. He might be clueless, but they seemed to recognize one another's 'words'.
Kirsten nodded her agreement, and smiled kindly at Ryan, brushing his face with her fingers before heading back toward the table.
Ryan closed his eyes for a few seconds. He snorted as he stood up, thinking he could use something a lot stronger than juice right now.
As though reading his mind, Sandy smiled, "Forget it, kid – you're seventeen, and this is a rehab center."
"Right," Ryan grimaced, watching Kirsten sink into one of the teak chairs.
Wondering for the millionth time how Sandy did that.
>>>>>>>
tbc
A/N2: While I had planned one very long chapter, I decided Sandy was right – let's take a break here. There will be at least one more long chapter, and likely an epilogue to come.
A/N3: Reviews are greatly appreciated – I love the connection between reader and writer. To everyone who has generously given their time to review in the past, many thanks. And a special thanks to those of you who have been so loyal with your feedback. I listen…