Morning After
A/N: Hey guys. Wow, it's been a long time since I've written anything here. A very long time. Anyway…I dunno. I kinda got bored and finally decided to give this story another go I guess. It's almost like resurrecting the dead…Anyway, enjoy, if you're still reading it.
As always, don't forget to review. You know I love 'em J
Disclaimer: Okay Josh. You know it, I know it. Everyone knows it. I don't own 'em…just takin' 'em for a ride.
Chapter Six
The meeting with the social worker seemed to go well enough, at least as far as Ryan was concerned. Trey and himself had managed to buy another slice of time with the Cohens, short as it may be.
"How long should we tell them they'll be here for?" Kirsten asked nervously.
"... until Dawn appears before a judge for sentencing of her convictions...Could be days, could be weeks, depends on how many other cases he's handling, the availability of a public defender… Also, I'm sure the judge will take the children in to consideration when making his decision about Dawn's case, however you should begin to prepare Trey and Ryan for the possibility that their mother will be serving a period of time in a state correctional facility..."
Ryan, Trey and Seth had all been eavesdropping from the stairs at that point, just out of sight from Kirsten, Sandy and Catherine.
While Trey had tensed up at the word "serving," Ryan had always considered it a possibility of her actions. He wasn't dumb, he knew that if you did something wrong, you were punished. Like their dad had been. Like their dad was right now. As soon as he'd seen her taken away in handcuffs after the accident, the scenario had played out in his mind. To be honest, Ryan wasn't sure of what he wanted. In prison people could change, people did change; for better or worse.
Dawn could use some change, for her own sake, as well as Trey's and Ryan's.
On the other hand, Dawn was still his mother; still their mother and nothing would change that. If she were to be sentenced to prison, it meant he and his brother would be considered wards of the state, at very least until Dawn was released.
His thoughts were even more muddled now than they were the first morning he'd woken at the Cohen's house.
"Ryan?" a voice interrupted his stray thoughts.
Ryan glanced up from where he was sitting at the coffee table in the living room. Seth and Trey were focused intently on the program that had been turned on, filling their mouths absentmindedly with pizza: The Cohen's celebratory dinner, kids' choice.
He found Kirsten and Sandy both staring at him worriedly.
"Yeah?" he asked tentatively.
"Are you okay?" Kirsten asked, a motherly tone overtaking her voice.
"Yeah. Fine. Why?"
"You haven't touched your pizza, kid. If you take any longer I'm sure Seth'll have it devoured before you can touch it"
Ryan glanced down to where a solitary slice of pizza was spread across the plate in front of him. At the mere sight of food Ryan's stomach seemed to lurch apprehensively. He pushed the plate forwards towards Seth and stood up from the table, "Not hungry" he shrugged, silently excusing himself from the room.
With a worried glance to Sandy Kirsten set down her plate to get up and follow. From the floor Trey was watching from the corner of his eye. Sandy put his hand up and handed Kirsten his plate of pizza, "I'll go... Maybe he'll talk to me."
Kirsten nodded and took his plate, watching her husband disappear from the room.
0.0.0.0.0.0.
"Ryan?" Sandy knocked apprehensively at the door to the boy's room. There was no response but the door swung open a little further.
"Ryan? Are you feeling okay? You want to talk about it?" Sandy pushed the door further open to reveal an empty room.
"Mr. Cohen?" Ryan asked from behind Sandy. Sandy jumped around, restraining himself from raising his hand to his chest. "Ryan, there you are, where'd you go?"
"Washroom" Ryan shrugged.
"You okay? Are you sick?"
"I'm fine" Ryan replied, brushing past him to go sit on the bed.
"Ryan…" Sandy trailed after the boy, sitting beside him. "What's goin' on kid?"
"I… I don't know."
"Ryan, I know this can't be easy for you, or for Trey, but-"
"But what?" A voice demanded from the doorway.
Ryan looked up to find his brother standing there, angrily.
"Hi Trey, you looking for something?"
"Yeah, my brother."
"You want to join us?" Sandy offered, patting the bed. "We could all figure this out together.
"I've already figured it out, Mr. Cohen. And I've been trying to tell Ryan about it, but he doesn't seem to wanna listen. He believes you've come to save us from our mother, what he doesn't understand is that we don't need saving."
"Trey, I can understand your anger, in part, but-"
"You don't understand anything, or you'd have just left well-enough alone. Did you tell Ryan that you're the one responsible for lodging an abuse complaint against our mother? Did you know that Ryan?"
"Trey, what your mother does to you guys-"
"Is none of your goddamn business!"
"Do not talk to me like that in my own house, please Trey."
"What're you gonna do? Ground me again? Well go ahead. You aren't my father, Kirsten's not my mother. I don't want to be here, but now I don't have a choice, thanks to you!"
Sandy sat motionless, speechless, until Trey stormed from the doorway, then slowly rose from the bed.
He reached to doorway before Ryan spoke up. "Mr. Cohen?"
Sandy turned.
"He'll calm down. He's just mad…About things. About everything. He thinks you guys are just doing this to show off to your friends or something…"
Sandy inhaled sharply, and came back to sit beside Ryan. "Is that what you think?"
Ryan studied the comforter of his bed intently, picking off the non-existent lint. "I dunno."
"Ryan. We aren't doing this to look good. We're doing this because we care. About you, about Trey. Even about your mom. She needs help, Ryan. She needs to figure out her life. I know if sucks, I know it's rough, but if she can't look after herself, she can't look after you."
"I can look after me. And Trey."
He felt Sandy's hand reach around his shoulder, but didn't flinch away. It felt right, it felt good, to have someone here for him, like this. Listening, talking, comforting.
"You shouldn't have to look after yourself Ryan. Or Trey. You're eleven years old, you're still a kid."
Ryan glanced up, meeting Sandy's eyes. He could see they were watery, could see that he cared. He wanted to say yes so badly. He wanted to agree, say that he shouldn't have to look after anyone. But he couldn't.
"I should go find Trey, try talking to him." Ryan didn't wait for an answer, but hopped off the bed and left Sandy sitting there, head bowed.
0.0.0.0.0.0.
"Trey?" Ryan knocked on the pool house door. There was no answer, but he walked in anyways. Trey looked up from where he stood, bending over a backpack.
"What are you doing?" Ryan asked, closing the door behind him.
"What's it look like?"
"You're leaving?"
"Why not?"
"What did he do to you? What did I do to you?" Ryan demanded.
"He, doesn't know anything. He doesn't know us Ryan, he doesn't care!"
"He does too, Trey! I saw it! He cares, and so does Kirsten!"
"About you maybe, but not me. I'm too much trouble for them, so I'm leaving before they kick me out."
"They won't, Trey. They won't kick you out! You just have to be nice back. You just have to try!"
Trey tossed his backpack back on the bed. "Oh come on Ry. You and me, we grew up together. You know the Atwood luck, you know it won't last! Why do you even try? Now go get your stuff, we're leaving. We'll take a taxi back to Chino, you can stay with Theresa for awhile. I'm sure Eva will let you."
"Where will you go?"
"Chad's maybe, or Gary's place."
Ryan's fists tightened at his sides. "You'd rather go to Gary's place than stay here?"
"I'd rather stay with people who care."
"Gary doesn't care, Trey. He just wants you to do his dirty work. You told me that!"
"Stop it, Ryan! Go get your stuff."
"How are we gonna pay for the taxi?" Ryan whispered.
Trey smiled at him for the first time that night, and pulled a wad of twenties from the front of his pack. "We're not, the Cohens are."
"You stole-"
"Get your damn stuff, Ryan! I'm leaving in ten minutes. If you aren't with me when the taxi comes, don't bother trynna look me up when they throw ya out."
Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat. Trey had stolen. From the Cohens, of all people.
He's your brother. You have to go.
"You comin'?" Trey asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
"I'll meet you out front." Ryan replied, dropping his head for a moment.
Trey clapped him on the back, heartily, as he walked past. "Ten minutes kid."
Ryan nodded, and turned towards the house, closing the pool house door behind him.
0.0.0.0.0.0.
Trey threw himself down on the cement curb, glancing back at the house to make sure he was hidden from sight. He was, courtesy of a brick pillar at the end of the Cohens' driveway. Digging through his jean pocket he removed a pack of Marlboro reds and a lighter. First thing he had to do back in Chino was get another pack.
Sol would probably sell to him. He usually did, unless Trey got mouthy with him. If all else failed, he could probably con Gary into getting him a pack, for a price.
"I'm not going mom. You can't make me!" a girl's voice split through the dark.
"You're going, young lady. Now get in this house or I'll-"
"What? Ground me? Go ahead, I don't care. I'm not going, and you can't make me."
"Get in this house. You're making a fool of yourself. The neighbors will overhear."
Trey snickered to himself, craning his neck to try and see the action, but it was blocked.
"Not until you say I don't have to go."
Trey shuffled himself further over on the curb, peeking around the corner, to see a young girl standing in the middle of the driveway, arms crossed over her chest in anger. A woman, whom he assumed to be this girl's mother stood about ten feet in front of her.
"Sweetie. You have a problem; I'm just trying to help."
"No mom. You think I have a problem. I don't."
"Come back in the house, and we'll talk about this."
"You mean you'll send me to my room until tomorrow and drag me kicking and screaming to the shrink."
Trey could see the surprise etched on the mother's face. He could tell that had been exactly what she'd been thinking.
"I thought so. Bye mom. I'll see you tomorrow night."
"Oh, so now you're running away? Where are you gonna go? Summer's in Bora Bora with her dad."
"I'll find somewhere. Long as I'm away from you." With that, the young girl whipped around and started walking quickly down the driveway towards him. Trey pulled himself back around the corner, sitting himself back by the Cohens' driveway. He inhaled deeply off his cigarette as the girl rounded the corner.
She let out a noise of surprise, and promptly flushed red once she realized he'd probably overheard.
Trey smiled, gestured to the curb beside him with his head. "You want a smoke?"
"I'm eleven."
"So?"
The girl studied him for a moment, and promptly sat. Trey handed her his pack of smokes and his bic, which she took, awkwardly.
"I'm Marissa Cooper." She offered, fumbling with the lighter.
Trey took the lighter from her, cupped his hand around it, and lit it. Marissa leaned in, lit her smoke, and promptly began coughing. Trey snickered to himself.
"So who are you?" she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.
Trey stared at her for a moment, thinking. "Whoever you want me to be."
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A/N: That's it for now, folks. Review if you want more, or I'll just let it drop.