Genre – General/Angst

Format – 3rd person personal

Couplings – Nothing overt, Ryan/Marissa, Seth/Summer, mentions of Alex/Marissa and perhaps some Seth/Alex as this goes on

Warnings – angst, cynicism, slash, character death, bad language, drug use

Other – A/N for chapter 3: This is the third chapter. Some of the metaphors, similes and other assorted imagery are fairly stoner-y, and this is intentional. There's quite a strong stoner element in this post-Marissa Seth (as many of you have picked up on), yes I do know what its like (oh my God etc) so the stonerisms are accurate, BUT, let me make this clear, I'm not advocating the use of drugs. As you will see by the end of this chapter ;)

Also, I tried, readers, I really, really tried to make this a non Seth/Ryan fic, but the relationship between the two keeps popping back up (I have a disease or something!) anyway, there isn't any slash, but there are slashy vibes. I couldn't help myself. I need restraining.

Thirdly, I can see how this is getting a bit tedious for all you Alex fans, all the Ryan stuff going on, and this is another Ryan chapter, so as ch.4 is very nearly ready I hope to post that soon, which will involve more of other characters (if not necessarily Alex). To be honest, I'm not overly happy with the structure atm myself, so I may change a few things around in the chapters, but if I do so I'll put it in the A/N so if you want you can re-read from wherever I've changed.

Ooh and also (this A/N is going to be longer than the chapter if I keep this up) this chapter is dedicated to kissedmetillthemorninglight who has been reviewing all of my fics in a frantic effort to get my butt to update :p thank youuu, and I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 3: Comfortably Numb

Seth takes a deep breath, wonders whether he should have said some dramatic last words, and twists the door handle, walking into the pool house, where he sees Ryan sprawled across the bed, fully clothed.

There's a moment of silence, like a thousand, thousand hours, the moment before the penny drops and Seth… Seth hopes it can go on forever, because as long as there's this tension, this moment up in the air, there's no before, or after, there's just this.

He wonders if he can take this moment, fold it up into little pieces and eat it, blowing it out of his mouth whenever he needed it again.

Now that would be an awesome superpower.

He remembers talking on the phone yesterday.

---

'Seth look, just go and talk to him if what he's doing all night is bugging you so much.'

Easier said than done…

'It's not that, you know… that makes me sound like such a – a Jewish mother, '

Fuck, he wishes he didn't have to be such a fucking self-absorbed baby about everything, but, you know, he guesses it's the only way he knows how to deal with things.

'Well it stands to reason you'd be worried, right. He's your best friend, you've relied on him ever since he's got here and now it's your turn to step up, for him to rely on you, and you're not sure whether you're up to the job.'

She's right, he figured as much as soon as she'd opened her mouth, articulating his feelings of despair and loss towards Ryan into something less abstract.

'When did you become so wise? Last time I talked to you it was all punk rock and, you know ex-cons on the beach.'

He was just playing for time, company, he knew better than not to listen to her.

'Yeah well, times have changed, Seth, you should know that.'

They had, and for the worse.

'Thanks for talking to me Alex.'

He silently willed her not to leave, fuck; he's so overwhelmed, pleading internally.

'Whatever, I've… I've got to go.'

---

The proverbial penny drops.

"Ryan, look I, you know, I understand if you don't want to talk about what happened, because I'm not sure I want to talk about what happened, and I talk about most things, quite a lot, but I get it if it's too painful or whatever it's just… oh, look, a t-shirt with blood on it, I like what you're doing here, mixing your wardrobe up, you know, adding some old-school Ryan Atwood gritty reality to it, it's very urban decay, but this – this, whatever you're doing to yourself, with yourself, this coping mechanism or crutch or whatever it is, it's not healthy, it's not. I can't sit here and watch you self destruct like this, and I'm not just speaking for myself I know the Kirsten is going out of her mind with worry, but me especially, because… because I can't go on like this Ryan, I need you, and I'm standing here coming up against this blank wall with you and Summer, and, I can survive without her. I love her, but I can, for three years there have been times without Summer, and they sucked in comparison to the times that were with Summer, but I can't tackle Summer on my own and I couldn't survive without you, dude. You're the Wolverine to my Xavier, the Batman to my Robin, because man, I'm just the sidekick, you're the hero, and this comic can't have a happy ending if the hero's beat and down and coming back home every morning at 7 with unidentified bruises, or, well, more unidentified bruises than normal. And I think… I think you need me too."

Ryan has moved. He sits up, looking at Seth dead in the eye, but there's no flicker of life in the gleams of blue.

For the first time since he met Ryan, Seth is reminded of ice, cold and brittle, when he looks into those eyes; usually, whatever the situation, there's a little flicker of amusement, acceptance and affection when it comes to Seth.

There is none now.

Seth wishes he hadn't had another four joints this morning.

"I can't do this… help me Ryan, I need you to react, I need you to talk to me, say something, say anything. I need some assistance here, man, I can't do this on my own, I can't hold together, I need to help you hold together in order to hold together, just… just speak to me, let me in, react, do something. Ryan, Ryan!" Seth almost yells at him.

Things are spinning; fuck.

whydidIwhydidIwhydidIhavethatlastjoint

Suddenly the floor lurches and Seth's vision blurs and he stumbles towards the sink in the pool house bathroom. He retches but he hasn't eaten since yesterday and his stomach is empty, it just burns all on his insides, in his throat.

He moans and he retches again, hands clinging to the sink so tightly his knuckles are white, and thinks at the moment he'd take death over how this unbelievably terrible feeling.

He becomes vaguely aware of another body in the small bathroom and can't even see Ryan's outline let alone feel whether hands are holding him. He hopes they are.

HelpmehelpmehelpmeRyan

"Help" he gasps before he passes out on the floor.

Fin (chapter)

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