I got such positive feed back from Bullies & Bonding, I felt compelled to write the rest of the story. I hope it lives up to the original, though the level of angst just isn't there. I don't know if you have to read the first story to understand this one, but it's probably a good idea.
And thanks to Starlightx for acting as beta.
Don't rub it in, I don't own the O.C. or any of its characters.
Seth hated therapy. It surprised him, because it was no secret that he liked to talk. His parents were always telling him that he didn't stop running off the mouth. When his father had insisted on therapy, he had figured that paying someone to listen to him for an hour would be great fun. Someone would finally have to listen to him, and they couldn't roll their eyes at him or throw him dirty looks, because it would be unprofessional. Therapy should have been heaven for Seth Cohen, but instead it was pure hell.
He found, that sitting on the couch, talking to a virtual stranger, who was trying to probe at his innermost thoughts, was disconcerting. Dr. Berger was a cold fish, who didn't crack a smile at Seth's keen observations. He seemed disinterested when Seth enthusiastically explained the minutiae of the relationship between Kavalier and Clay. And he had a knack for asking questions that made Seth squirm in his seat, because he it meant delving into a part of himself he just didn't want to look at.
He swiveled in his computer chair, turning around and around until the room was spinning with him. He had promised his parents he would find a way to therapy on his own that afternoon. Sandy had to file a deposition on behalf of his grandfather and Kirsten had a meeting that would probably run long. He considered skipping, but knew that the Dr. Berger's office would contact one if not both of his parents and their lecture, disappointment, and subsequent grounding would be worse than the hour-long session. Besides, he hadn't forgotten his father's promise. As long as Seth was helping himself, he would work on bringing Ryan home.
It had been a month, and Seth was dying to bring the subject up with his father again, but just couldn't seem to find the right time. His grandfather had finally admitted the truth to everyone. He hadn't been bribing someone on the city counsel, but he was paying child support for his illegitimate child, a result of an affair while he was still married to his grandmother.
Lindsay, his aunt, had started classes at Harbor that fall. Seth had seen her around, but he didn't really know her. Sometimes they stopped to talk in the halls or met up at lunch, but it really was too weird. She was his aunt after all. He was her nephew. They were the same age. Chalk it up for another thing to talk about in therapy.
A ping sounded from the computer and the little IM screen popped up. Seth hopped it was Anna Stern. She usually e-mailed or IMed in the afternoon, when she got home from school.
ChipsRUs:
Cohen, U R a real prick.
Seth stared at the screen. Chip Saunders was at it again. It was bad enough that they pushed, shoved, and mocked him at school, but now the members of the water polo team had somehow found his screen name and were targeting him at home. He didn't have safe haven anywhere. He started to get up, but the computer pinged again. He couldn't help it. His eyes slid to the screen.
ChipsRUs
U better CYA if I land in Dr. Kim's office 1 more time.
Seth sighed. He sometimes wished he had kept his big mouth shut. Ms. Fisher and Dr. Kim had made it their personal crusade to end the problem of bullying at the Harbor school. Members of the water polo team could be seen parading in and out of the Dean's and guidance counselor's office on a daily basis. He suspected it had something to do with the law suit that Sandy had threatened to slap on the school if they didn't do something. His parents and teachers thought they were helping the situation, but they were only making it worse. The barrage of nasty comments, sneaky little shoves, and obvious punches in the gut had increased ten fold. He didn't tell his parents about it, even though they asked on a daily basis.
"How was school today, Seth? Did anyone do or say anything?"
He lied. But there were days that the signs were there for everyone to see.
"Seth, what happened to your shirt? Rosa found it in the trash. It's torn."
"Oh. I got caught on a nail."
"Seth, this didn't happen from a nail."
He looked away.
"Seth Cohen." Kirsten put a hand under his chin. "Did those boys do this?" She forced him to look into her eyes. He tried to lie, but she saw the truth and the next day there was another call to the school.
The computer pinged again. Seth looked again, the same way people gaped at dead bodies. They didn't want to, it was too awful to see, but at the same time they couldn't resist.
ChipsRUs
4get Dr. Kim. Next time I get you alone Cohen you'll be FUBAR.
Seth wasn't sure what the acronym meant, but it didn't sound good. He glanced at his watch, and knew he better get going, or else he'd be late to his appointment. He threw one final glance at his computer and realized he was suddenly glad to be going to therapy.
Ryan wiped the sweat off his face with his undershirt. He needed to shave, but when he had moved to Chino he had stopped doing that every day. He usually let it grow until the weekend and then took it off before he went out, scouring the bars for a lay. The girls liked the innocent boy look he had when he was clean shaven. But on the construction job, he had to lose the look or risk being badgered about his age ten times more than he already was.
"Atwood," the foreman called. "Someone's here to see you."
Ryan looked up from the nail he was hammering, surprised that the Mike didn't sound more irritated with him. Mike almost sounded pleasant.
"Five minutes. Then I want you back on the job."
Ryan nodded. He'd make it three if he could. He wondered who it was, but wasn't surprised to see Sandy standing on the edge of the property.
Sandy took off his sunglasses and smiled at Ryan. "How're you doing, kid?"
"Pretty good."
"How's Theresa?"
"Doing better." To Ryan's surprise, Sandy glared at him. "What?"
"You're lying to me."
"No. I'm not. Really. She's doing better."
"How would you know how Theresa is? She's been in Atlanta since the beginning of September."
Ryan's stomach dropped. He'd been caught. He thought he could keep the game up, even when Sandy and Kirsten had started stepping up on their calls and visits. But they knew. The Cohens had found out that Theresa had moved to Atlanta after she had lost the baby and that he was living alone.
"Seth told us about the baby, Ryan. I'm sorry," Kirsten told him on the phone the week after he had returned from Portland.
"Thanks Kirsten. And thanks for all your support. You know the baby clothes and all. We… Theresa and I decided to give it to Charity. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not." Kirsten paused. "Ryan, what are you still doing out there? Come home. Seth is home. You should be here too."
He brushed his hand against his scruffy chin and sighed. "Theresa needs me," he lied. "It's been really traumatic. The baby was, you know, already a baby. And she had to give birth to the dead fetus."
He had sat in the library doing research on late term miscarriages and had learned that women had to actually deliver their dead babies. It had made him shudder, sending a chill up his spine, even though the library's air conditioning was out of order. In truth, he hadn't seen Theresa since his return to Chino. He hoped her mother had been with her during the ordeal, but he couldn't be sure. When he had come to the house, Eva had informed him that she had moved to Atlanta for a fresh start. She had urged him to return to Newport, but Ryan couldn't face going back to the Cohens.
"We need you here too," Kirsten said quietly.
Sandy grabbed the phone from his wife and had started some idle chit chat, ending the conversation with a reminder that he should at least sign up for night classes. Ryan had assured him that he would. But it had been another lie. He was too tired after work to go to school and he couldn't make it on his own if he didn't work.
"You know."
"I know."
Ryan's eyes slid to the ground. Sandy's entire face was a mask of fury. He should have known his lies would catch up with him eventually, but if they had known, then someone would have forced him back to Newport months ago.
"Was it so terrible living with us that you didn't want to come back?"
Ryan's head snapped up. "No! Last year was the best year of my life."
"Then why all the lies, Ryan? You didn't register for school. Theresa is in Atlanta. There's no baby. You're working a dead end job. You're all alone. Why the hell are you staying here when there's a family back in Newport waiting for you to come home?"
He said nothing and just shrugged.
"You better find a way to explain it, because I'm sure Kirsten will want to understand."
"You didn't tell her?"
"Not yet."
"Please don't tell her. She'll — she'll be really pissed at me."
"Really? And what am I?"
Ryan thought that Sandy looked like he wanted to hit something. Like he wanted to hit Ryan. He knew that would never happen, but Sandy definitely wore the look. He had seen it on lots of angry faces in the past, whether it was piss-drunk boyfriend or a piss-drunk bum at one of the pool holes he had started frequenting.
"You're angry too." Ryan leaned against the mesh gate, needing the support to stay on his feet. Every muscle in his body was twitching and his bones were shaking. His stomach was churning and he was afraid his bowels would let loose.
"You're coming back home," Sandy demanded. "We tried it your way. It didn't work. You didn't even try and keep up your end of the deal."
Ryan shook his head. He knew that this was coming. "I'm staying. This is where I belong."
"I'm not going to let you throw your life away. Once Theresa lost the baby, I never intended to allow you to stay indefinitely. I thought you would come to it on your own. If not, Kirsten and I had decided we would start pressing you around the holidays."
When the baby should have been born, thought Ryan.
"You're coming home today, Ryan."
"You can't make me."
"Yes I can." Sandy ticked off his fingers. "You're a minor and I'm your legal guardian. It's time you come home and it's time that you act like a kid again."
"Hey, Atwood. Five minutes are long up. Get back to work."
"Give me a minute," he called.
"He doesn't need a minute," Sandy shouted over Ryan's shoulder. "He's not going back to work for you."
Ryan glowered at Sandy.
"Hate me all you want, I'm doing what I should have done months ago."
The burly foreman stalked over to where they were standing and planted his hands on his hips. "Who the hell are you?" he spat. "And what the hell do you mean?"
Sandy didn't let the man's stance intimidate him, though Ryan suspected Mike could flatten Sandy with one punch. He stuck out his hand. "Sandy Cohen. I'm Ryan's legal guardian and attorney."
"Legal guardian? What is he, some kind of nut? Why does he need a guardian?"
"Because he's not yet eighteen."
The foreman choked on the phlegm he was hawking up. "What the hell?"
Ryan slid behind Sandy. "Sorry, Mike. I needed this job."
"Damn it kid. Now I'm down a man, and I've got a deadline. I should've known better." He waved a balled up at the clear blue sky and looking up, he continued, "It's the scruff. I knew you were trying to make yourself older. I knew this would bite me in the ass," he muttered and started to walk away. "You can come get what I owe you in ten minutes. I'll tell them to get a check ready."
"Thanks."
Sandy slipped a card into Mike's hand. "Have human resources send a check to Ryan to the address on that card. We're not waiting around."
Mike shrugged and stomped back to the site.
As soon as Mike was out of earshot he said, "Are you trying to get us killed?"
"He was perfectly pleasant."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "We'll probably never see that money."
"Don't worry. You'll get it." Sandy glanced at his watch. "We should be home in time for dinner, even if traffic gets real ugly."
Ryan wanted to firmly plant his feet to the ground and refuse, but he knew that Sandy meant what he said. He was going back to Newport. He didn't belong there. He didn't belong in Chino either. Ryan Atwood didn't know where he fit in, but Sandy wouldn't give him the chance to find out in his own way, not until his eighteenth birthday.
Two hours later, Sandy pulled up in front of the house, parked, shut off the ignition and got out of the car. He stopped when he realized Ryan wasn't following him.
"Come on," he urged.
"I thought you'd prep everyone."
Sandy shook his head. "Nope. This time around, I'm just going for the shock value."
Ryan blew out his breath, causing his bangs to fly up. He wasn't sure how Seth would react. He'd probably be glad to see Ryan. Glad to have his best friend back. But Seth had stopped e-mailing about six-weeks before, and he couldn't be sure. Ryan had checked his e-mail at the library nearly every day and has sent Seth a barrage of e-mails that went unanswered. Marissa wrote to him. Even Summer did. Both told him they saw Seth around at school, but that he didn't really hang out with them anymore. They didn't tell Ryan who he was hanging out with. He never thought to ask.
And as soon as Kirsten found out the entire story, she would be livid. He imagined she'd want to ground him or punish him in some way. But Ryan didn't care. He knew that he couldn't go back to his life in Newport and expect it to be the same. Marissa had made it clear that she was over him and that she had a new boyfriend. She just wanted to be friends. He and Summer had only been friends because of Seth and Marissa. And Luke was in Portland. He had not other real friends in Newport. So it didn't matter if he stayed in the pool house for the rest of the year.
"Come on, Ryan. They'll be thrilled to see you."
Reluctantly, Ryan got out of the car. "Only until you tell them everything."
"Probably. After that, I'd watch out for Kirsten. But you're too old for her to take over your knee, so you're safe from a spanking."
Ryan scowled.
They walked into the kitchen together. Seth was setting the table. Kirsten was cutting a salad. A pile of empty containers were scattered around the counter. She looked up to greet her husband as she heard him amble into the room, and stopped when she realized Ryan was there too.
Her face broke into a wide grin. "Ryan, you came for supper!"
"Ryan's home, Kirsten." Sandy's voice was quiet — nearly a whisper.
But Seth heard. He stopped what he was doing and looked up. He didn't say anything. He didn't smile. He didn't offer any clever remarks. He just waited to hear what would happen next.
"You're home?" Kirsten slowly put down the knife.
Ryan intently studied his hands. His fingernails were cut short, but still dirt and grit got stuck underneath from his work on the construction site. He'd have to scrub well to get it all out.
"Sandy?"
"I brought him home. It was time."
Kirsten came out from around the counter and threw her arms around Ryan. She hugged him tightly. He stood there at first, stiff, not sure what to do. Then gradually, he brought up his hands around her back and returned the hug.
"Look at that beard," she said when they let go. "It makes you look like your twenty-six instead of sixteen."
Ryan blushed.
"You must be starving. Go wash up. Seth you too. We can hear the whole story while we're eating." She didn't miss the apprehensive look Ryan threw at Sandy.
Ryan surveyed the pool house from his bed. Unlike the big house, it looked the same. His t-shirts, undershirts, and socks were neatly folded in the wicker shelves. His slacks and suits hung in the closet arranged by color and size. The room had always looked neat and orderly, but it always appeared lived in. Now it seemed sterile and unused.
He ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't stay here and yet he couldn't go. Dinner had been everything he had feared and worse. Kirsten's eyes had smoldered. If she had been one of Seth's cartoon characters, there would have been smoke coming out of her ears as he and Sandy deliberately revealed the details of Ryan's last two months in Chino.
He'd endured a lecture, waiting for Seth to insert an asinine comment. But Seth had just stared at his plate and poked at his food. Seth wasn't talking to him. Everything looked the same, thought Ryan, but he could tell nothing would stay the same. Especially his relationship with Seth. He'd already been sitting in the pool house for thirty minutes and Seth hadn't come to find him.
He was relieved when he finally saw Seth at the pool house door, hands thrust deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched, eyes cast to the ground and curls falling into his eyes. But he didn't come in. Last year, he had never been able to keep Seth out. He stared at Seth through the glass, but didn't wave him in. He didn't even know what he would say to Seth if his brother did come in. Seth stayed there for another few minutes and then turned on his heels to go back into the house.
Seth watched Ryan finger the folded shirts and hanging clothes in the closet. He stared as Ryan sat on the edge of his bed, stooped over, head between his knees. He wasn't sure why he didn't go into the pool house. This is what he had wanted for so long. He had wanted Ryan to come home, and now that Ryan was in their house, it felt and looked all wrong. He turned back to the house, throwing one last brief look over his shoulder and went back into the house and up to his room, where he had turned off the computer to stop the barrage of hate messages he kept receiving.