AN: Chapter fourteen. Wow, over 300 reviews! This is phenomenal, way past anything I could have hoped for. I'm so glad people are enjoying this fic as much as I enjoy writing it. This chapter is going to grant a little insight on things, specifically with what has been going on with Sandy and Kirsten. And some good old fashioned Cohen comfort. I hope you like it. The end might throw you for a tailspin…and make you mad.
FADING – Chapter Fourteen
I am colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready, I am ready, I am ready,
I am fine
Colorblind – Counting Crows
Early Thursday Morning
Seth watched numbly as the tow truck slowly and painstakingly pulled the damaged Range Rover up and out of the deep ditch it had settled into. He knew what he would find on the other end; the entire right side was dented in, and the front wheel had come off its axel. Not to mention numerous scratches and a busted fender. "My parents are gonna kill me." Seth muttered to himself.
Ryan, who had been seated silently beside Summer in the back of an ambulance that had shown up, shook his head, wincing slightly as he did so. "Seth, it was my fault." He repeated for the thousandth time that night. "I was driving…I drove right off the road. I'll tell your parents what happened."
"Ryan, none of that matters." Seth said as he tore his eyes off the wreck and walked towards where his brother and girlfriend were getting checked out. Luckily they had all been wearing seatbelts and had suffered nothing more than a good scare. Explaining to the cops that Ryan hadn't been under the influence had been a difficult task, but after everything had been sorted out the paramedics had been extra careful to check Ryan over and gave him something for his headache. "I knew better. I never should have called you out here. You're sick…it was a stupid, self-centered thing to do." He shook his head at himself.
"Then I shouldn't have come. I could have said no." Ryan reasoned, raising an icepack to his head. Seth knew that his brother's head was killing him, despite the painkillers. He could see it clearly written all over his face. "There are forces stronger than Seth Cohen, you know." He muttered.
Summer sighed. "Ain't that the truth."
After the accident Seth's heart had been hammering wildly. He'd thought they were dead. But Summer's voice brought him back to reality as she crawled into the front to make sure they were all okay. Seth had been shaken up, but fine. Ryan on the other hand, had been in worse shape. Seth had found him shaking like a leaf, his eyes darting around in a panic. It had taken several minutes for them to calm him down and get the distressed teenager out of the car. Soon after the cavalry showed up, complete with police, fire, and ambulance.
A cop walked towards them with a flashlight and a grim expression. "That car isn't going to get you home tonight. The mechanic is taking it in. Unless you have someone that can come get you and take you straight home, I'm going to call your parents and drive you all to the station." He explained the situation slowly, glancing between the three teenagers. "What's it gonna be?"
Seth looked between Ryan and Summer before turning back to the police officer. "Well there is…one person."
"Man, when I got the call I freaked. I thought Seth Cohen has gone and killed them all!" Luke laughed, banging a hand on the steering wheel and looking at his passengers through the rear-view mirror. "But then when I heard that it was Chino driving…dude, then I flipped." He nodded towards Ryan, slumped in the seat beside him.
Seth glanced at his brother worriedly. "Luke, we appreciate the ride, we really do." He said dramatically. "But it's been a bad night, and we'd just all like to forget it." He begged.
Luke held his hands up defensively. "Fine, fine." He relented, focusing on the road. "You're lucky is all I was going to say. It could have been a hell of a lot worse."
"Thanks for the news update, genius boy." Summer narrowed her eyes at the blond teenager driving, rubbing her neck with nimble fingers. "Too bad my dad isn't a chiropractor…I'm going to need some serious adjustments after this debacle." She groaned, kneading her shoulders.
There was a soft, distressed sigh from the passenger seat. "I'm sorry." Ryan mumbled, his voice nearly a whisper.
Seth sat forward in his seat and put a firm hand on his brother's shoulder, looking at his pale profile seriously. "Ryan, stop it, okay? You're sick. You couldn't have helped it. I shouldn't have even called you in the first place." He swallowed heavily. Ryan had been too quiet, even for…well, Ryan. His face was still lined with pain and he was still shockingly pale. The longer it took them to get home, the more Seth began to worry. He just hoped he could get his foster brother home in one piece. "It was entirely my fault. It's the truth, and it's what I'm going to tell my parents." He finalized, watching his friend to gauge his reaction.
"No." Ryan said quickly, opening his eyes and squinting out at the road. "I drove us into a ditch, Seth. Not you."
"Chino, what are you doing?" Luke asked in shock. "Let Cohen take the fall. Are you crazy?"
Ryan shook his head exhaustedly. "I'm not going to let you take the heat for me. No way in hell." Though his voice was weak, he held much conviction and determination behind the words. "I'm telling them the truth." He closed his eyes again, breathing deeply and shivering slightly as the wind from the partially opened window blew his sandy hair across his forehead.
"Yeah, and the truth is that grandma driver Cohen wasn't bright enough to know that we were out of gas, so we broke down and he hauled you out of bed to save his ass." Summer added, elbowing her boyfriend in the ribs.
Seth leaned forward into the front seat and reached across his immobile brother to close the window. "Leave him alone, you guys." He said softly, sitting back into his seat, his eyes still watching Ryan worriedly. "He's asleep."
Luke glanced back at him in concern. "Is he okay, Cohen?" he asked, glancing at his passenger. "He doesn't look so hot." He said simply.
"Funny, 'cause he is kinda hot. I think he's got a fever." Seth crossed his arms in front of his chest, staring out the window as they got closer and closer to home. "He shouldn't have come. He's sick." He said, almost to himself.
He could feel Summer staring at him. "Cohen…it's Ryan." She said, her voice soft. "How can you even think that he wouldn't come?"
With a shake of his head, Seth looked at her quickly, guilt evident in his eyes. "I wasn't saying that it isn't my fault, Summer. Because it is." He said immediately. Then he returned his gaze back to the landscape of Newport out the tainted glass windows of Luke's truck. "Of course I know that…Ryan always has my back. No matter what." He finished quietly, feeling a lump form in his throat.
Summer hesitated. "Then why…?"
"I don't know." He interjected quickly. Then his tone softened. "It's like…I forgot, or something. Or I didn't want to believe that this is all real. That even this part of him has changed…you know?" He sighed, a hand coming up to scrub his tired eyes.
Silence filled the car as Summer reached for his hand and held it tightly in her own. After a moment Seth looked up to see Luke nodding at him in the rear-view mirror. "I know, Cohen." He said enthusiastically.
Seth couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sure you do, Luke." He muttered.
All too soon and yet not soon enough, they pulled up into the driveway of the Cohen residence. Lights in the kitchen, pool house, and foyer indicated that the residents were definitely not asleep. As soon as Luke killed the engine, the front door was flung open, and a panic stricken Kirsten came sprinting towards them, her bathrobe floating behind her. A disheveled Sandy was close behind.
As soon as Seth had stepped out of the vehicle his shoulders were seized by his father's firm hands, squeezing him and shaking him as dark blue eyes marred with fear and concern burned into his. "Are you alright? Where the hell have you been? Do you know what time it is?" Sandy's voice boomed as he alternated between crushing his son against his chest and holding him at an angry distance. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? We were about to call the police!"
"No need. They'll be giving you a call soon, I'm sure." Seth said as he managed to squirm out of his father's constricting embrace. At the look of shock on Sandy's face, Seth quickly explained. "Not what you think. Summer and I ran out of gas, Ryan came to pick us up…we got into a little accident. A little one. Luke came and got us." He explained quickly.
A brief moment of relief filled Sandy's eyes before they began blazing with anger. "You called Ryan to come get you?" he growled.
Seth heard his mother's gasp as she threw open the passenger door. "Oh my God…Ryan." She reached in and within moments was extracting the disoriented teenager from the car, an arm around his trembling shoulders as she helped him onto his feet. As Sandy took off his bathrobe and draped it around his foster son, Kirsten's furious blue eyes landed on her the other teenager. "Seth. What the hell is going on?" She demanded in a growl.
Before Seth could reply, the slam of a car door interrupted his train of thought as Luke stepped out, looking at his parents. "Mrs. Cohen, it's not as bad as it looks." He said, his hands raised non-threateningly, his voice calming. Summer stepped out to join him. "Ryan was driving them home, and I guess he wasn't feeling well because the car went out of control. But Seth got them to the side of the road…a ditch, unfortunately. The car took the damage." He explained helpfully.
Seth watched as his father struggled to remain calm. "Summer, are you alright?" He asked the girl softly. When she nodded the affirmative, Sandy turned to Luke. "Then I suggest you both go home. I'm sure your parents are worried about you. And I need to talk to my son." He finished darkly.
As their friends pulled away, Seth felt Sandy's firm grip on his upper arm as he was directed up the steps to the house, following Kirsten and Ryan. They didn't stop until they were in the kitchen, and Seth was steered towards a stool at the island, across from his father, who stood leaning against the counter, his expression enraged.
"Sandy." A weak voice caused all heads to turn towards Ryan, weakly leaning against Kirsten. In the light of the kitchen, his pallor alarmed Seth even more. It seemed a miracle that the boy was still upright. "This was my fault. I was driving." He insisted vehemently as possible.
With a shake of his head, Sandy looked at his foster son. "Ryan, we're not discussing this. Don't try to take the fall for Seth, not this time. Not when you all could have been killed." Sandy returned his gaze back to Seth. "None of this is your fault." He said softly, his voice gentle even as his eyes burned furiously at the other boy across from him.
Ryan shook his head. "No, Sandy, you don't understand…"
"It's not your fault, Ryan…" Sandy repeated with an impatient wave of his hand.
"Why the hell not? Because I'm sick? Because I have cancer?" Ryan exploded suddenly, his voice unsteady and his eyes bright with tears. He was shaking. "Is that why it's not my fault, just like my girlfriend being drunk isn't my fault? That's the only reason why we're blaming other people, isn't it? Because the cancer patient shouldn't have to 'worry' about responsibilities." He said bitterly, stepping back out of Kirsten's embrace.
Seth felt as though he had been punched in the stomach as he watched his brother tremble, his tortured expression sending daggers to Seth's heart. "Ryan…it's not like that, I promise." He said softly, taking a careful step towards him. "This wasn't you. It was all me…"
"I was driving, Seth! How in any way is it your fault?" Ryan demanded angrily.
Before Seth had a chance to answer, Sandy butted in. "Because he called you when he could have called us. You, who he knows is sick." With a shake of his head, Sandy stepped towards his foster son with a thoughtful expression. "Don't fight us on this, Ryan. The only thing you did wrong was go out after Seth." He reached out a hand to touch the shivering teenager's arm.
Ryan drew back from his touch, his eyes burning with tears of confusion and hurt. "No." He said softly, his voice close to breaking. "That's the only thing I did right." Then a flash of pain crossed his face and he winced, closing his eyes and taking in a sharp breath as he reached out a hand to steady himself against the wall.
"That's enough now." Kirsten said softly, wrapping her arm once again around his trembling shoulders and drawing him out of the room. "Up to bed. I'll get your meds." As she steered him out of the room, she looked back and her flashing blue eyes landed on Seth's. He knew the look there.
Disappointment.
When they were alone and Sandy turned back to his son, Seth sighed heavily and leaned back against the counter. He stared at the floor, feeling his father's eyes on him the entire time. "Your brother has cancer. He needs you to be looking out for him right now. Not the other way around." He said quietly, but his tone was serious, more than disapproving. "Are you proud of yourself?"
Seth looked up and stared back. "No. Are you?"
Sandy's eyes narrowed. "What…"
"Are you proud that you're still running away? Running from Ryan, who you just reminded me has cancer. That's something I understand, dad." He said sarcastically. "I know that because I've been with him. I've seen him throwing up until he can hardly stand. I've seem him practically paralyzed with pain in his back. I know that he has cancer, dad. I'm more concerned about your knowledge on the subject." He said lowly, glaring fearlessly back into his father's darkened eyes.
Sandy struggled to regain his composure. "This isn't about me, and my mistakes, Seth." He replied, almost sadly. "It's about yours."
With a humorless chuckle and a jerky shake of his head, Seth rested his eyes on a point on the wall just over Sandy's shoulder. "It's so far beyond that, dad." He said softly, regretfully. "It's this whole family." After a beat, he let his gaze travel the short distance to his father's confused eyes before pushing off the counter and walking from the room.
"Where do you think you're going?" Sandy's voice boomed after him.
Seth didn't turn around. "Bed. I'm really tired." He said simply.
Sandy sounded angrier than ever when his voice reached Seth's back again, and yet he made no move to go after his son. "This conversation isn't over yet, Seth!"
With a snort, Seth started up the stairs. "It was over before it began, dad." He shot back, not caring whether he had been heard or not.
Ryan looked up from his bowl of cereal when he heard heavy footsteps cross into the kitchen. Seth walked bathrobe-and-slipper-clad into the sunlit room rubbing his eyes sleepily, his curly hair in complete disarray. Ryan glanced at the clock on the microwave and grinned a little. It was almost eleven o'clock. "Morning." He greeted.
Seth blinked at him a couple of times before smiling broadly. "Hey." He said back, going to the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice. "Dude, look at you! Munching away there. You're looking pretty good."
Saluting with his spoon, Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I feel pretty good." He replied. And that was true. After waking up Ryan had felt the best he had in days. And when it had dawned on him, his good mood had died instantly; the feeling would be short lived. He was going back for chemo today.
"Alright, that's awesome, man!" Seth said enthusiastically, clapping him on the shoulder. As he poured himself a bowl of Fruit loops and sat down in a chair beside his brother, Seth shook his head. "If that's the case, you're going about it all wrong. Shouldn't you be celebrating by having one of those spectacular breakfast feasts you can prepare instead of Corn Pops? I mean, take advantage, Ry." He said, pouring milk into his bowl.
Ryan stirred his cereal thoughtfully. "I feel better, but I wouldn't go that far." He said softly, and Seth quieted, nodding in understanding. Then Ryan put down his spoon and sat back in his chair. "Plus…we're leaving soon for the hospital. I don't want to do anything that I'll regret later when I'm not feeling so good."
After a moment, Seth nodded again, his expression sympathetic.
High heels tapped into the room. "Ryan, finish up your cereal. We better get going." Kirsten said as she walked towards the table, punching numbers into her cell phone as she went. When she noticed Seth, she smiled gently. "Oh. Morning, honey."
Seth nodded back.
Watching the exchange with an unwavering feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach, Ryan sighed. He knew that the tension was because of him, and because of what had happened last night. Because of the accident that he caused but no one would acknowledge. It still made him want to put his fist through a wall when he thought about the rift he had caused between Seth and Sandy. There had already been something going on between them before the accident, and he had made it worse.
Ryan pushed his chair away from the table. "I'm ready."
"Got a lot of meetings today, mom?" Seth asked without looking up from his bowl. Ryan detected a note of sarcasm in his voice.
Kirsten must have noticed it too, because she bristled and put her cell phone away. "Um…no." She said after a moment. Then she started fidgeting with the collar of her jacket. "Well, just one with my dad at three. But I'm canceling it. It's taken care of."
Narrowing his eyes, Ryan stood up and pulled on his sweatshirt that was folded across the back of his seat. He wished he wasn't always so cold. It was summer in California, after all. "Why?" He asked, confused. "You said we'll be home by one. I thought you'd be going into the office." Ryan said worriedly. She wasn't staying home again just because of him. Was she?
"Sweetie…you know how hard the chemo is on you." Kirsten said gently, her eyes softening. "You can't be alone."
Ryan shook his head. "I can take care of myself, Kirsten." He said softly. Then with a reluctant sigh, he looked at the floor. "I won't be alone. Seth is here." He replied, nodding towards his brother seated at the kitchen table. Seth bobbed his head at the mention of his name, waving a hand as he spooned more cereal into his mouth.
Kirsten gave a slight nod. "We'll see, honey." She said as she gathered up her purse and motioned Ryan towards the door.
"Speaking of offices, might I ask where father is on this fine morning?" Seth asked, looking up at his mother with a fake look of rapt interest.
Footsteps clomped towards them and all heads turned as Sandy walked into the kitchen, struggling to pull on a navy sweatshirt as he ran his fingers through damp hair. "Sorry. Had to shower." He said as he grabbed a bagel from the counter and followed his wife to the door. "Seth, you're grounded. Don't go anywhere." He tossed over his shoulder without looking at his son.
Struggling to wipe the look of surprise off his face, a ghost of a smile turned up the corners of Seth's mouth as he watched their exit, Ryan waving as they walked out across the patio. "That's…fine." He mumbled to himself. "I'll call Summer."
After the injections, Ryan had fallen asleep in the recliner as the IV containing the "miracle juice", as Seth called it, flowed into the veins in his hand. Sandy had been surprised at how quickly his foster son had nodded off, but in a way, had been grateful. After watching the torture Ryan had to endure with each needle to his spine Sandy had been desperate to put an end to his son's excruciated expressions and small, weak whimpers of pain.
He watched as Kirsten reached forward to smooth a stray lock of hair off the teenager's forehead. Ryan didn't stir. "He wants me to go to work when we get home." Kirsten said sadly, sighing. "He said he could take care of himself…makes me wonder if he's ever had anyone really look after him. When he was sick, when he was a child…it's like he just doesn't understand the concept. It's completely foreign to him."
Sandy nodded in understanding. He'd had the same thoughts enough times himself. "You can go in to the office, Kirsten." He said quietly, sitting back in his uncomfortable hospital chair. "Seth will be there. And I will be there, too. It'll be good for Ryan." He reasoned.
"How will that be good for Ryan?" Kirsten asked, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Sandy. We discussed this last night. One of us needs to be at home with him at all times in the days after his chemo sessions." She insisted, her voice adamant as she adjusted the blanket covering their foster son. He was shivering.
Sandy looked up. "I just said I'll be there, didn't I?" Sandy snapped, his voice unintentionally harsh. Immediately he felt guilty, and reached out to put a hand on his wife's knee. "I'll be right upstairs, Kirsten. It will be fine. You should go. Ryan needs to know that we still trust him. He's getting desperate, honey. He's losing everything…why should he have to lose whatever little independence we can give him?" He asked, gazing into his wife's piercing blue eyes.
Kirsten shook her head. "He's a kid, Sandy! He doesn't know what he needs." Her voice dropped to an angry whisper. "He's very sick…he needs our help, it doesn't matter if he thinks he can take care of himself. That's our job."
Letting his gaze wander to Ryan, Sandy stared at the boy, amazed at how asleep he looked like a small, sick child instead of the Ryan he knew. Feeling his eyes burn with tears, Sandy looked away, staring at the floor. "It doesn't matter…he'll push us away no matter what we do." He said softly.
He felt his wife's concerned eyes watching him as she reached for his hand. "Why do you let him?" She asked.
Swallowing over the lump that had formed in his throat, Sandy struggled to meet her gaze. "Because…because I want to give him whatever I can." He bit his lip to stop it from quivering. But his voice still shook. He took a deep breath. "And…and because I'm terrified of losing him."
"Oh, Sandy." Kirsten said softly, and he allowed her to lean forward and wrap her arms around him. He laid his head against her shoulder, letting her warmth push away the coldness he felt wrapped around his heart. "If you let him keep pushing you away that's exactly what you're doing. Losing him." She whispered, her voice rough with unshed tears.
Struggling to breath, Sandy shook his head against her. He wouldn't say what he really believed, the only thought that had kept him going as thoughts of losing his son had haunted his mind every waking hour; if Ryan kept pushing away it meant that he was still Ryan. He was still strong enough to not have turned into a shell of the former person, still capable of beating this thing. And if that meant that Ryan had to push Sandy away, he would let it happen. It was the only way he could keep him.
A deep breath came from the bed and they turned to see Ryan blinking open heavily lidded eyes. After several moments his hazy blue eyes settled on them and he tried to smile, but it quickly turned into a wince, then a cringe, and he ducked his head, squeezing his eyes closed and gritting his teeth.
Kirsten immediately settled onto the large armrest of the chair and gathered him into her arms, but even her gentle touch made him struggle not to cry out on pain. Sandy scooted his chair forward and reached for a trembling hand, holding it clasped between both of his own. "Squeeze my hand, Ryan. It will pass. We'll get you your medicine as soon as the bag is empty, okay? The pain will go away, I promise." He said softly, feeling the vice-like grip the teenager inflicted on his hand. Sandy clenched his jaw and rode it out with him.
After several agonizing moments, Ryan went limp in Kirsten's arms with a gasp, tears of pain streaming from the corners of his eyes. Gently she ran her fingers through his dampened hair. "Are you alright, sweetie?" She asked, blue eyes studying him worriedly. "Is there anything we can do? Anything we can get you?"
Ryan groaned in response. "How…much longer?" He panted, squeezing his eyes shut again.
"Ten minutes, tops." Sandy said encouragingly, stroking the boy's hand and wishing he could do more. The pain contorting the young face made his chest constrict. "Where does it hurt, kid? Can you tell me?" He asked gently.
Fighting back tears, Ryan swallowed hard. "My back…my neck." he moaned, gazing at Sandy with a tortured expression. But when Sandy reached out to gently touch the teenager's points of pain, it only made him whimper in response. Sandy drew back instantly. "I'm okay…I'll be okay." Ryan choked out, closing his eyes again and taking a couple deep breaths.
"Ryan, honey, drink some water." Kirsten encouraged softly as she held his head gently and brought a cup of water to his lips. "Dr. Collins is worried about you getting dehydrated."
After a few small sips, Ryan coughed and turned away. "Sick…" He said, the color leaving his face.
Reacting fast, Sandy reached for his foster son as carefully as he could and rolled him onto his side. But it didn't stop the sob of pain that followed, knocking the breath from Sandy's lungs and sending a knife to his heart. He held a bowl under Ryan's chin as he heaved, the action inflicting even more pain on his weakened body.
"Sandy…" Kirsten's soft voice called him. He looked up to see her staring, her eyes shining with concern. "You okay?" She whispered.
At first he didn't know what she meant. But then he felt the tears on his cheeks. Wiping them away with his sleeve, he gave her a jerky, silent nod. He rubbed Ryan's back, closed his eyes, and waited for it to be over.
Seth walked quickly into the foyer when he heard the keys enter the locks of the front door. Seconds later it swung open to bang against the wall as his mom and dad walked in with Ryan between them, looking night and day different from when Seth had seen him that morning, grinning at the breakfast table. This Ryan was deathly pale and shaking, barely standing with both his arms draped around Sandy and Kirsten's shoulders. His head was bowed, his eyes pained and vacant. The sight sent a shiver down Seth's spine.
Licking dry lips, Seth stepped forward. "Here…" he said, the sentence dying in his throat. "Let me…I'll help you." He stumbled over words, reaching for Ryan's right arm and allowing his mother to step away. Then he carefully wrapped a strong arm around his brother's thin waist, catching the hiss of pain and the brief contortion of his face. "Sorry." He mumbled apologetically.
"Get him upstairs." Kirsten said breathlessly as she hurried to close the door and fiddle with her purse, pulling out a brown paper bag. "I'll be up in a moment with his medicine." She shrugged off her jacket and jogged into the kitchen.
Somehow Seth and his dad managed to ease Ryan's stiff form up the stairs to the bedroom. He was silent, save for the pained breaths of air he sucked in like a drowning man, his eyes squeezed shut and an expression of suffering on his pale, drawn face. As they pushed open the door to the guestroom, Seth was overcome with a feeling of déjà vu. Hadn't they just been here? Hadn't this torture been over with almost a week ago? Then why were they back here again, and how was it somehow worse.
As they neared the bed, Ryan felt heavier in their arms, his legs suddenly folding under him as they struggled to settle him onto the mattress. "Easy, kid." Sandy soothed as they eased him into a sitting position against the high stack of pillows, his legs stretched out in front of him. "We're home now. Everything is ok."
Seth helped fold back blankets, remove shoes, and replace the covers over the shuddering form. Ryan was restless, coughing weakly and swallowing painfully, his hands clutching at handfuls of sheet. Seth reached for the bucket now kept under the bedside table. "You need this, bud?" He asked gently, a reassuring hand falling on his friend's arm.
"He's been throwing up since we left the hospital." Sandy explained quietly, fixing pillows and reaching down to hold and still Ryan's fidgeting hand. He didn't meet Seth's eyes. "He's got nothing left…but he's still nauseous. And he's in a lot of pain"
Kirsten appeared at the doorway and walked quickly into the room. She pushed past Seth to sit down on the edge of the bed, her fingers carding through Ryan's sandy blonde hair. She handed him two small pills. "Here sweetie…this will help." She said to him softly, waiting for him to swallow them before tipping a glass of juice to his lips.
Sandy put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Dr. Collins said we should take his temperature, remember?" he reminded her gently as he stared down at Ryan, his eyes filled with worry. "We need to monitor the fever. I'll go get the thermometer." He suggested.
Seth watched his mom nod, not taking her eyes off her foster son as Sandy quickly left the room. Moments later she was reaching for the bucket as Ryan's stomach immediately rejected the pills and juice he had swallowed, his body shaking with each heave. "Oh, honey." She murmured, her voice fearful. All Kirsten could do was rub soothing, gentle circles on his back and whisper reassurances.
Swallowing hard, Seth watched his brother cough and struggle to breath. "W-what can I do?" He asked softly.
"He'll be okay." Kirsten replied after a moment, letting Seth take the bucket when Ryan finally relaxed against her. She stroked back his hair and watched as he closed his eyes, sighing exhaustedly in her arms. "Better, sweetheart?" She asked him gently.
They got a small nod in response.
The door creaked as Sandy walked in, a confused expression on his face as he walked to the bed to hand his wife the thermometer. "Kirsten, why is your father in the hallway?" He asked softly.
Seth gave his head a shake. "Oh yeah. Grandpa stopped by earlier, I forgot about him in the kitchen." He told his mother. "He said you were supposed to meet him here…says you have a really important meeting over budgets or something. I told him you guys were at the hospital with Ryan but he said he would wait here until you got home…" He didn't get a chance to finish before Kirsten stood up and walked out into the hallway. Seth got up to follow her.
"Dad? What are you doing here, I left a message at the office saying I wasn't coming." Seth walked out to find Kirsten facing a disgruntled Caleb Nichol with her hands on her hips.
Caleb shook his head. "Kiki, we said we would meet here for the budget meeting…we worked it around your schedule because you didn't want to leave the boy." He said, his eyes cold. "I know you said before that his being sick wouldn't interfere with your job, but I'm beginning to lose faith in that statement." He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"That boy is my son, dad. He has cancer, he just had chemo this morning and I have to be here to take care of him." She growled, taking a step closer until they were inches away from one another. "I thought that after everything we've been through with mom you'd be bit more understanding. I guess I was wrong." Kirsten's voice was icy as she glared her father down.
With a wag of his finger, Caleb's voice boomed with anger. "Don't bring your mother into this! That boy isn't even your son, Kiki. He's a juvenile delinquent that your do-good husband brought into this house." His voice dropped and turned cold. "We had a deal, Kirsten. You said that this wouldn't intrude with your career."
Shaking her head, Kirsten stood her ground. "Forget it, dad. I'm not leaving him. Not today." Wrapping her arms around herself, Kirsten took a step back, pushing the hair behind her ears. "He's too sick." She said softly, painfully.
Heaving a sigh, Caleb was silent for a moment. "I expect to see you in the office tomorrow afternoon at the latest." He said darkly.
"We'll see, dad."
"Tomorrow." Caleb repeated, picking a piece of lint off the shoulder of his blazer. Then his voice lowered to a near whisper as he locked eyes with is daughter. "Or I will be forced to look into finding you a replacement."
Eyes flashing in shock and hurt, Kirsten looked as if she had been slapped. Swallowing hard, she stared into Caleb's cold blue eyes. "Y-you would fire me over this?" She asked in disbelief.
Caleb shrugged. "You leave me no other choice, Kiki." He sighed, and turned to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow." He said confidently. Then he noticed Seth behind her, and nodded towards his grandson. "Goodbye, Seth." With that, he was gone.
Staring at his mother's back, Seth watched as she stood rooted in place for several moments, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. Then after a moment she turned, and her eyes landed on her son's. They stared at each other for several long moments, and Seth took in his mother's tear-filled blue orbs. Her expression was full of guilt and confusion as they stared at one another silently. Seth tried to read what she was thinking. Somehow he knew that at the latest time possible, tomorrow afternoon his mother would be in that Newport Group office, against her will and full of regret. She didn't have to say anything. He just knew.
And he wanted to hate her for it. He wanted to be mad, and tell her that she had a choice. But Seth realized that his mother knew the same thing that he did. If Kirsten didn't show up at work tomorrow, Ryan would never forgive her. And that was something she would not allow.
After a moment Kirsten looked away and her eyes wandered back to the guestroom door. She walked towards her son and stopped when she stood in front of him. Silently, Seth stepped back to grant her access, and she moved gracefully past him, pushing open the door and stepping inside. It closed softly behind her.
AN: Ahhh, emotions are raging…nothing is going right for anyone, is it? When it rains, it pours, I guess. Things are really going to take a turn for the worst soon…there is a MAJOR incident coming up in chapter…I believe 17. I can't wait to get to it. REVIEW! Cheers,
Vancouverite
