Ryan instantly retreated to the pool house when they got home. Seth was already there, waiting for him.
He nodded in the direction of Ryan's stitches. "Nice touch. Adds to the tough guy look quite nicely." Ryan grunted. "Still a man of few words. Got it." Seth motioned towards the second PlayStation controller. "Too injured to play? I'll even give you a handicap," he glanced up at Ryan's pained face, "well, a bigger handicap than usual." Ryan managed a half smile and eased himself onto the floor next to Seth. He flinched as he reached for the controller. Seth's eyebrows shot up. "Sorry. Want me to get you something?"
Ryan shook his head. "I'm alright," he managed through gritted teeth.
Seth kicked the play button with his foot as Ryan got himself settled. "Did Dr. Chu give you some gnarly pain meds?" He started the game, frantically hitting buttons the instant the screen flickered to life.
Ryan shook his head. "I guess. Kirsten filled them." He fidgeted with the controller disinterestedly. "The whiskey was working pretty well."
"Whiskey, maybe that's why you suck more than usual," Seth gloated as his ninja sliced Ryan's in half. He glanced at Ryan for approval, but Ryan's face was unchanged. "Rematch?"
Ryan nodded, but continued to play only halfheartedly. Seth filled the silence, as he always did. Ryan was glad for the distraction, and was lulled into an almost sleep by the hum of Seth's unending string of words.
"Dude! Gotcha again!" Seth's shriek startled Ryan out of his stupor, and he gasped in pain. "Whoa, sorry, man. You okay?"
Ryan nodded and tossed the controller. "Could we do this later? I'm kind of spent."
"Yeah, sure man." He tossed his controller next to Ryan's. "Need anything? Gnarly pain meds? Whiskey? Little of both?" He laughed at his joke, but Ryan's face was unaffected. He held his hands up in defeat. "Okay, I'll stop by later. Maybe a different game…"
"'Kay." Ryan stood up slowly trying to take a deep breath. He felt instantly lightheaded, and sat down on the bed.
"Dude, are you okay?" Seth paused at the pool house doors, concern showing on his face. "You look a little pale."
"Fine. Just tired."
Seth hesitated a minute longer to be sure Ryan was okay, then headed to the main house.
Ryan waited until Seth was gone from sight before grabbing his pack of cigarettes. He retreated to the far side of the pool house, so as to not be seen from the house. He clumsily lowered himself down onto the ground and leaned carefully against the wall before lighting up. He took a deep drag and regretted it immediately. The pain doubled him over, which caused another round of sharp pain. He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. While the cigarette dangled in his hand, still burning, he righted himself and tried again, this time careful to only take a small puff. The short breath caught in his throat and threw him into a fit of coughing.
"Damn it!" He chucked his lighter and pounded his fist against the cement. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"
"Ryan?"
Sandy's sudden appearance startled him and set him into another round of coughing that took even longer to stop. He slammed his fist into the cement again.
"Hey," Sandy put his hand out to stop Ryan from doing it again. "Trying to add a broken hand to your list of injuries?" He held his hand out to Ryan. "Hand them over." Ryan regarded him bitterly, embarrassed more at being caught in such a vulnerable condition than angry about the loss of his cigarettes. Sandy raised his eyebrows when Ryan didn't immediately respond. "Hand them over," he repeated.
Ryan begrudgingly held out the half empty pack.
Sandy crushed the pack in his hand and sat down next to Ryan. "What are you trying to do?"
Ryan shrugged, not sure what to say. He was trying to smoke, but that didn't really end well. He hadn't thought much past that point.
"I came out here to see how you were doing. Seth said you were looking a little pale." He studied Ryan. "How about you take one of these pain pills. They'll make you feel better." He shook the bottle in Ryan's direction.
"No thanks, I'm fine."
Sandy sighed. "You don't have to be the tough guy all the time Ryan."
Ryan didn't say anything in return, just stared off towards the sunset.
Sandy looked down at the label on the pill bottle, measured out the correct dosage and handed the pills to Ryan. "They'll ease the pain in your ribs."
Ryan let out a short breath. "My ribs are the least painful part of this day."
Sandy laid his hand on Ryan's knee. "I know." He knew the pain Ryan was feeling was so much deeper than the wounds they could see. "I'm really sorry about your mom."
His eyes clouded for a minute, tears threatening to spill, but he held it back. "That's not what I meant."
Sandy nodded, knowing exactly what Ryan was referring to. "You know, Ryan, I've seen your file."
Ryan froze. He had always assumed Sandy had seen it, but that didn't make the confirmation any easier.
"There's nothing in there that makes me think differently of you." He hesitated. "I'm also not naïve enough to think that that file tells the whole story." He let his words sink in for a minute.
Ryan looked towards the main house, avoiding Sandy's eyes. "Does Kirsten know?" His voice was low.
Sandy shook his head. "Oh, she has an idea, but no, she's never seen your file if that's what you mean." He watched Ryan, waiting for some reaction from him. "If you ever want to talk about it…"
"I don't." His response was quick and cold.
"Okay, but if you ever do, I'm here. Kirsten's here." He waited. "I'm really sorry about your mom kiddo." He held out the pain meds again. Ryan hesitated, then took the 2 pills from Sandy and popped them in his mouth. Sandy handed him the prescription bottle. "For later." He stood up and stretched his hand out to Ryan. "Why don't you try to get some sleep? It's been a long day."
Ryan stood up, on his own, and returned to the pool house wordlessly. He watched Sandy's back disappear into the main house before spitting the pills into his hand and tossing them in the trash can next to his bed. He nearly threw the rest of the bottle in too, but hesitated, then tucked them into his backpack next to a fresh pack of cigarettes. He carefully lay down on his bed and tried to fall asleep.
The clock next to his bed read 4:15 am and still, Ryan couldn't sleep. He stepped out of the pool house into the warm night air and, ever so slowly, tried to take a deep breath. Immediately it felt as though his chest were on fire. He bit his lip to keep from screaming, and his mouth filled with the salty taste of blood as he split his lip from the pressure. He cursed under his breath and gently touched his lip.
He wasn't sure what to do with himself. He needed to erase his mind, to quiet the voices in his head and erase the pictures of what he had seen. More than anything, he just wanted this day to end. Technically he guessed it had, but he felt as though he was in a never-ending nightmare he just needed to wake up from.
He walked slowly across the patio, the cement cool on his bare feet, and quietly opened the door to the main house. He thought if had one drink he may be able to fall asleep.
The house was quiet and still as he crept into the kitchen and quickly grabbed the first bottle in the liquor cabinet. Scotch. Not his favorite, but it would do. He didn't want to risk the noise of clattering glasses so instead unscrewed the lid and drank straight from the bottle. The smoky flavor warmed his throat as he drank. This certainly wasn't the same whiskey he had sneaked back in Chino. He glanced at the label. An expensive single malt of course. There would be no cheap, corner store liquor in the Cohen's liquor cabinet. He took another long drink then quietly returned the bottle, sliding it behind another so no one would notice it was only half as full as it used to be.
He paused a minute to be sure no one in the house had heard him then crept back to the pool house to attempt sleep again. As an afterthought, he reached into his backpack and pulled out one of his pain pills. He popped it into his mouth and returned the prescription bottle to his bag. He laid back and waited for sleep to find him.