Chapter *8*:
A/N:
This chapter is Ryan's POV.
I don't think that it is possible for Ryan to get a broken kid home and not have flashbacks of his own life. Therefore, as clichéd as it gets, I have to put them there. Some are from the canon, some are of my own imagination – conversations that I felt could have happened between the Cohen's and Ryan when he was first brought home. This chapter focuses on Ryan's vacillation as he feels pulled in two different directions – a part of him wanting to accept this boy and give him the life that the Cohen's had given him and the other part not so sure how to let go of the fact that he is Oliver's son. As much as it pains me, I think it is realistic that Ryan wouldn't be able to let go of the hurt inflicted on him by Oliver so easily, nor do I think he can trust Seejay that quickly. It's just not in his nature to trust easy.
I am sorry if it gets a little confusing at the start. Just go with it and you'll see.
It starts exactly where the last scene left off – with Ryan and Seejay walking towards the house.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed. This story is close to my heart, so it means a lot. Any feedback, good or bad is appreciated.
Marissa pretends to be busy, Jason acts like putting that gob of spaghetti in his mouth is the most important thing in the world and even Grace is silent, staring at them with wide, speculative eyes.
He walks a little behind -
- observes as Seejay lumbers in the middle of the room and looks awkwardly around, like he isn't quite sure what to do with himself now.
For a second there is pin drop silence. Nobody speaks. The clutter of china against china, as Grace bangs her spoon against her bowl is the only sound that is heard. It is a mark of seriousness that none of them, not even Marissa makes any move to stop her.
"Ryan…" thinking the worst she looks at him, holds his gaze, fully prepared to do battle to protect what she feels is right. The unspoken question hovers silently in the air.
He pauses. Runs a shaky hand through his hair and sighs. "Seejay is going to stay with us now…at least for a while."
He doesn't realise how much the admission costs him. He isn't prepared for it, prepared for the way it makes him feel like he's done the best and the worst thing in the world. Saying the words out loud make them more permanent and he still isn't sure what he feels about them, still isn't sure if he can accept them in their whole connotation. He wants to… But, he can't. This boy is a part of someone he wants to forget and yet he feels a connection with him, borne of their broken past.
His uttered words have the desired effect on his family. The dam breaks, the tense shoulders relax and everyone start talking at the same time. Jason claps Seejay on the shoulder and yells a welcome; Grace shrieks a 'yay!' and Marissa looks at him with relief, giving him a brilliant smile and then falters… seeing the look in his eyes. He isn't looking at her. His eyes are still locked on Seejay's - chocolate brown eyes that stare at him with something more that simple gratitude and that expression on his face… he knows that so well.
He still can't believe that he is back here. When he'd burnt one of her creations, when he'd gone to prison for it, he thought he was done for. He hadn't expected her to come and meet him. And now he is here - again... and he has no idea what the hell any of it means. He walks towards the fridge, sees Sandy and Kirsten talking quietly out of the corner of his eye. They pause whatever they are saying the moment he enters, and he knows they are talking about him. He pulls open the fridge, takes out a drink and pretends not to notice them. That's when he hears the words -
'Ryan's going to stay with us now...'
If anyone were to ask him what he felt at that moment, they would be surprised with the answer they'd get. Most would expect him to be insanely happy that he has got this new life, got the chance that millions like him would kill for. And he is happy - insanely so - but that isn't the predominant thought in his mind. That place is reserved for millions of other things - FEAR: the fear of screwing up, PAIN: the pain of losing his family, APPREHENSION: the apprehension of not fulfilling the expectations that Sandy and Kirsten have for him, and GRATITUDE: such overwhelming gratitude towards this amazing pair for having the guts and the inclination to do what they have done. They've taken pity on him when his own mother didn't. And he has never worn pity well. But he does that now, with a smile on his face.
A beautiful, sad, broken smile.
'I'll unpack later.'
"Sit." Marissa orders, shooing Seejay towards the empty chair. Their dining table is small, round not square, selected especially by Marissa because she had felt that it would be easier for the both of them to connect with everyone around, to reach Grace should she require the assistance but now he curses that decision, because it means he has to sit here and look at him... look at his face as he eats when all he wants is to escape. "What'll you have? We have the pasta… and some Indian… and Chinese… and… well, there is the left over Thai from yesterday if you are in the mood for that." She fusses over him, as she piles one thing after the other on his plate. She is trying so hard to make him feel comfortable. She wants so hard to help. And it shows in every move that she makes. He wishes that he could be that free with his emotions, wishes he could be that accepting and trusting - But he isn't. Oliver is always there when he looks at him, like a shadow that trails.
"You made all this?" Seejay asks, overwhelmed.
"No, I ordered." She smiles at him. "But I did make the salad. So…" she tries to cajole him into eating "… What'll you have?"
"Anything will do." He looks down shyly, an embarrassed flush creasing his cheeks. "Beats the prison food at any rate." He roughly whispers.
The silence that follows his inadvertant words is the product of pity and shock they feel towards him, but he misinterprets it as he looks up fearfully, afraid that he has offended them somehow. "I am sorry. I didn't mean…"
"Don't." Marissa admonishes. "Don't beat yourself up over nothing. Its okay." She runs a hand gently through his hair to console him, but he abruptly flinches, turning his head to the other side and avoids her touch at all possible cost. She lets her hand fall, surprised at the suddenness and the force of his actions but he isn't surprised. He knows the meaning behind the actions, understands the story behind the words better than anyone else, and in this moment he hates Oliver more than he ever has. Because he always thought he was that guy - the guy who would swoop down and save another kid from a broken home, the guy who would pull a Sandy Cohen and pay back to the world what he got, the guy who would open his heart and his home completely and thoroughly if he ever got the chance. And now he has the chance, but he isn't that guy anymore. And he hates Oliver so much for doing that.
One after the other the blows come, the pummeling fists that are meant to hurt, but this time he is prepared for it, this time he isn't going to take it lying down. He blocks it with both his hands, swiftly turns around and hits him back. Offense is his best defence. And right now, he doesn't care about the consequences. All he cares about is to get the release from the anger and the hurt that wounds his body into ten different coils. The moment his fist connects, he knows that he has done the wrong thing.
'Dawn.' the man shouts, crying and limping into their kitchen. "Look what your son did."
"Oh My God, Oh My GOD. RYAN! Get your ass in here right now!' His mom shouts.
Fuck, She was going to kill him now for hitting her boyfriend. She was going to blame him for the failure of yet another one of her pathetic relationships. Or she was going to hit him in front of her boyfriend to soothe him and show him where her loyalties lay. And its more Fuck, to her and to him, that for his mom, he will always be the one that's in the wrong.
'sometimes when... ummm... when i wasn't in the state to protect Ryan, he got hit on once in a while.' His mom utters, much later when they are sitting with the Cohen's having dinner and he can't believe, he can't fucking believe that she brought this shit up. He fucking can't believe that she has absolved herslelf of all the blame, like those boyfriends of hers were his fault and she was a mere bystander, can't believe that she is telling a decent lady like Kirsten all that. He doesn't want that shit to taint this house, a house that in so many ways he considers his sanctuary and he explodes. 'Mom, fucking stop... just stop talking right now.'
He pushes the table and gets up, walks out, runs towards the four walls of his pool house. His mom follows. She pleads. She cries. She consoles. But he doesn't listen. Much later, Kirsten does the same, but for very different reasons. She wants to care for him, take away his hurt, but it's her touch that scares him the most when she brushes his hair off his face. Because he has just realised that he can never dissociate a tender touch from the hard blows inflicted on his mind. And he flinches like before expecting much worse, but all he feels is a feather light touch.
"Mommy, can I play with Seejay?" Grace whines. "I am done with food and I wanna show him my doll collection and I wanna play boogaboo and the road warrior and the princess carmen and… and…"
"Grace slow down." Marissa laughs. "Seejay still has to have his food. Besides he is tired so don't go troubling him just yet."
"I don't mind." Seejay quietly answers, but then falters seeing the look in his eyes. His eyes are dull, conveying a deadly warning that tell him that he is watching for him to make one wrong move, take one false step and should he choose to do so, he wouldn't be prepared for the kind of consequences he would have to face. Juvie would sound good compared to what he has in store. Maybe he goes over the top, but he wants this kid to understand exactly what will happen if he tries to hurt them, wants this kid to know that he doesn't trust him with his precious daughter just yet. "If… it's okay with Mr. Atwood." Seejay blubbers, scared of his eyes.
"Will she be safe?" He questions. The tension in the room rises another notch, becomes a palpable force and Seejay mutely nods up at him.
"And can I trust you?" The words are laced with a much deeper meaning.
"Ryan!" Marissa gasps, shocked at the rudeness of his words.
"Dad…" Even Jason looks scared. Jason has never seen him like this - Chino style.
Seejay's eyes never waver from his. "Yes." He gulps. "Yes… You can trust me."
Its his eyes more than his words that do the trick. "Good." His voice falls down an octave. "I am glad."
He is badly bruised from the blows that Luke and his cronies have given him as a 'welcome to Newport' guesture, and he is just trying to get to the fridge for the ice, when Kirsten's words stop him dead.
'how do you know he isn't here to case the house?'
'He isn't a criminal mastermind, Kirsten.' Sandy defends.
'And Seth? Have you thought about what kind of an influence he would have on Seth?'
'The good kind. I hope.'
'Sandy…' Kirsten drawls. He can almost feel the scepticism and the censure in her voice.
'What?' Sandy protests. 'you can't pretend that seeing him doesn't shake you up.'
'I am thinking of Seth.' she shouts. 'And after what happened tonight… Seth's never been in a brawl.'
He feels bad about it. The moment he had seen Seth, he had known that he wasn't equipped to deal with the real world, to deal with brawls and fights. He liked that about him, admired the fact that he was so untouched, so different from what he was. Even Marissa seemed hardened and battle weary as compared to Seth. And now he has managed to drag such a kid into a world he had never known existed. The damn Atwood luck. How does he manage to screw up every fucking time.
'I want him out of here.' Kirsten orders and although he feels hurt, he understands where she is coming from. If seth was his kid, he would try his damndest to keep him away from kids like himself.
'You don't have to worry Mrs Cohen.' He says softly, without any of the censure he feels as he walks into the room making his presence felt for the first time. 'Come tomorrow morning, I am gone.'
'I'll take him' Sandy silently agrees.
"Yay!" Grace shrieks as she jumps up and down trying to get up out of her chair. She loves a new friend and she is excited to show Seejay her room. "Lets gooooo."
"Grace Atwood. Sit down right this minute." Marissa shouts. 'You don't get up from a dinner table before everyone else finishes. Have I taught you nothing?'
"But mommy…"
"I said sit."
She sucks on her thumb and sits back mutinously.
"And don't do that." Marissa pulls the finger out of her mouth.
Grace sticks her tongue out at her mom and taunts.
Marissa rolls her eyes at their daughter's antics, half annoyed, half exasperated. "Really Ryan, I am never having kids again."
"You said that when we had Jason." He smirks.
"And see where that got us?" she retorts. "Next time we listen to me."
"People like you should have kids." The words fly out of Seejay's mouth before he can stop them and its a toss up between who is more surprised. "You have what it takes." He mumbles, as a way of explanation.
"Oh honey… thanks." Marissa answers. "But I was just venting. I didn't mean that." she laces her hands with Ryan's and shares a soft smile. "If we are lucky enough to have more kids, I know that I'll love them more than life itself, even if they turn out worse than this brat.'
He smiles at Marissa, before he catches the yearning, jealous, longing expression plastered on Seejay's face. He knows it only too well because he has worn it before – exactly twenty years back.
'I wish i had a mom, even if she vented.' Seejay brokenly whispers, and he feels himself gasp. The memory that follows this, is the hardest for him to hold, and he feels his eyes shut down, feels his breath comig in short gasps as he remembers the time when he first realised that he was all alone.
Ryan… I am sorry. But you have to leave.
What, mom, please… what am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?
I don't know Ryan. But, I want you out of this house.
But mom…
No. I don't care Ryan. I can't handle you anymore.
I am sorry mom. I'll do anything I swear. Please don't ask me to leave...
Go… just go.
He abruptly gets up as the walls start closing in around him. He can't handle it. He can't handle the memories, and the concerned looks that Marissa shoots at him, but more than that he just can't handle reliving every single, painful step of his life sitting here in front of this boy and knowing he can do not to help him. He finds himself lacking, and it is that which is the hardest for him to deal. "I'll be in our room" He calls, looking over at the dissapointment that marres Marissa's face and knowing that it is mirrored in his.
'Why does daddy get to leave?' are the painful words that echo in his mind.
….
….
"Okay all done. Grace is read to, tucked in, kissed in… and Jason has stopped playing the music loud enough that we can sleep." Marissa talks to no one in particular as she wanders into their bedroom. She looks around, sees him standing at the window… staring into space. Even from this distance she can make out the tenseness in his shoulders, the stiffness to his body.
She moves towards him. "Hey… you alright?" she softly asks.
He doesn't look at her. Still stares into the infinite space. His jaw clenches. "The pool house… was it deliberate?"
She cocks her head to one side, confused at his question and then understanding dawns.
"No. I swear." She immediately answers. "I didn't even think of it when I put him there. I just wanted him away from the house when you came home. It wasn't until much later that I realised, but by then it was too late."
"It was spooky… walking into it like that." His voice is rough and it sounds like it comes from a million miles away. She grips his hands hard, laces their fingers together as she brings her closer to his body.
"I didn't see him Marissa…" Ryan abruptly looks at her. And what she sees has her blanching. His eyes are stormy, his voice is a tortured plea. "I didn't see him." he repeats. "I saw… me."
And God, his words. They are just… God. She has never seen him this shaken, and she can't believe that her one stupid mistake has made him feel like that. Looking at him like this, she curses herself for not having the foresight to get Seejay away from the pool house. What did she think? That he would forget about his past? That he would forget about what Oliver has done? She can't even begin to understand what he must be going through. She has been so stupid. She should have seen this. She should have prevented this.
"I am sorry. I'll get him out of there." She quickly answers. She can't take away the hurt. She can only try to prevent further damage. "He can stay downstairs."
"No. let it be."
"But…"
"No, let it be." He sighs, then pulls her towards him and leans his forehead against hers. "It feels right."
She snuggles into him… allows her head to nestle in the crook of his neck, allows her hands to snake across his waist as she places a soft kiss on the bare side of his neck.
"I am sorry." She apologises. "you dont know how sorry I am."
"Don't. Don't be sorry." he mumbles. He looks up at the ceiling in frustration and then looks back as he pulls slightly away from her. "You needed to do this. I get that. And you are right. He did jump in to help me that day and he lost his dad in the process, but…" he gulps. The words are so difficult to formulate. "Why is it so hard for me?"
He isn't questioning her decision. He is questioning his ability to do the right thing. He is questioning the man he is. And she can't take that. He is her husband. She knows him better than anyone else. And she knows who he is or the man he can be. And she can't allow him to doubt himself like that. She places the warm palm of her hand on the left side of his chest, feels his heartbeats rise. "Because you have the purest of hearts." she softly answers. "And you want to do right by him, even if you hate his dad."
He doesnt say a word as he pulls her towards him and burries his face in her neck. He dosn't say a word as he crushes her to him. But she gets it all the same. They stay like that... neither saying anything, just... being.
"Do you... do you want to send him back to the juvie?" She asks, after a long while. He doesn't answer and she feels her breath catch.
"What are you thinking Ryan?" She breaths. "I can't read you."
"I am thinking…" he prevaricates, his cheeks nuzzle the side of her soft hair. "I am thinking that I love the smell of your hair. And that I could stay in this moment forever."
She pulls back, looks at him sternly. "Ry, be serious. Please."
He sighs, knowing he can't avoid. "I think I want to get to know him." He answers balefully. When he looks at the delighted expression that crosses her face he interrupts, holding out his hands. "Wait, I am not saying that I am okay with him. Oliver is too much a part of him. But I want to try."
She gives him a brilliant smile. "But that's…That's great."
"You realise that I am not exactly saying that he can stay."
"No, you are saying that you want to give him a chance. That's all I wanted Ryan." She hugs him tightly, forcefully. "The rest is up to you."
He locks his hands behind her waist and squeezes it in reply."Thanks for not pushing it."
"I trust you." She answers simply. "More than I trust myself. I know you will always do the right thing."
"And what if i am wrong?" he asks her, half teasingly, half dead serious.
"It woudn't matter." she replies confidantly. "If I have you by my side, nothing else will matter."
He kisses her softly… tenderly. "Sometimes you amaze me."
She grins against his mouth, "Sometimes I amaze myself."
He crashes his lips aginst hers in reply, probes her mouth with her tongue until they are both hot. "I love you."
She locks her hands behind his neck, tangles them against his soft hair and pulls him back. "Do you want to show me how much?"
"Later-" he smiles. "Somebody's got to finish those dishes."
"You are passing me up for dishes?" She pouts.
"Do you wanna do the honors?" His eyebrows shoot upwards, knowing full well how much she hates that.
She makes a disgusted face at the thought. "I think I'll pass."
"Thought so." He snorts, reluctantly disentangling himself from her arms.
"Fine. Go." she relents. "But if you're not up within half an hour..."
"you'll what?" He challenges.
"I'll start without you."
"Dont. I'll finish up quickly." He mutters eagerly.
...
He walks into their kitchen to do the dishes, only to see Seejay working diligently at them. "You don't have to do that." He blurts, surprised.
"Habit." Seejay quietly answers.
He sits at the counter, leans back and looks at him curiously. "Oliver… the Oliver I knew owned a dishwasher."
"You knew my dad…?" Seejay turns around, shocked.
"He didn't tell you?" He counters, genuinely surprised. He figures if Oliver had to get Seejay in on his plan, he would have told him so. Seejay seems like a smart guy. He would have protested otherwise. Unless, like Marissa thinks, he actually didnt know.
"He told me about your wife." Seejay mutters softly. "He told me you came in between them. I just figured…"
"That I was the bad guy." He supplies. It's the oldest story in the book.
"No." Seejay resignedly sighs, negating him. "I just figured that he lied. He does that a lot." Suddenly he chokes. "Sorry… did that a lot. I forget sometimes."
Again the conflictiong emotions come, a part of him wanting nothing more than to take away the pain, and the other part wanting to throw him out, but he has promised Marissa that he was going to give Seejay a chance, he has promised her that he would try, so he does exactly that. He gets up, walks towards where he is standing and picks up the spare cloth. "Here, let me help you."
They work like that, side by side, not a sound between them and yet the silence isn't awkward or painful. It should have been. But it isn't.
"You're good at it." Seejay remarks.
"Haven't done it in a while… but what d'ya know?" He smirks. "Old habits die hard."
"You don't own a dishwasher?" Seejay looks at him sceptically.
"I do now." He answers, "I didn't… once.' He gives him a sideways glance. 'In fact, it wasn't that long ago that I washed dishes with my hands.'
'I always do.' Seejay mumbles, looking down. 'It's always been me and my dad. And he was… well… he wasn't exactly fit enough to do any chores. I always used to do them. But when there were bad days, when he wasn't… he wasn't himself and he would...uhhh..." Hit me... He doesn't say the words. The meaning is just as clear if he would and he shudders. 'I would do it the hardest then. I found that the mere act of scrubbing…'
'…was cathartic. Made you feel like your problems could go away.' He finds himself involuntarily answering, looking at him with sad eyes.
Seejay's eyes lock, surprise and astonishment evident in them. His eyebrows draw together in a frown. 'How do you know so much about this? How do you know what I feel?"
he pushes the plates away, stacks them neatly in the corner, ignoring the question at hand. He isn't prepared to answer it just yet, isn't prepared to let him in that much. He walks towards the fridge, pulls open the freezer to pull out the butter and the cream. He smears one half of a bagel generously before sitting down on the counter chair. "Bagel?" he asks, pointing towards the other half.
"No... I… I dont want to." Seejay mumbles.
He can feel his eyes on him, and he answers the unspoken question without looking up. "Not now. Maybe ill tell you someday... But not now." he applies the cream on the other half and pushes the bagel towards him. 'For now, you eat. You hardly ate any dinner.'
"Well, neither did you." Seejay points out stubbornly.
"And that's why I'm having some." He says, giving him a half smile. "Besides, its one of the perks of being the parent here. I can get away."
Seejay pouts, sitting down beside him churlishly and picks up the other half, pushing it in his mouth. It almost makes him grin. He looks like such a kid now, with his hair falling on his head, his mouth half full with the bagel crumbs stuffed inside against his will. They eat silently concentrating on nothing but eating. Like before, the silence isn't awkward.
"What was my dad like… before?" Seejay suddenly asks, through his half full mouth.
"You should ask Marissa that." He answers blithely. He doesn't think he should taint Seejay's memories with the kind of things he knows about his dad. "He was her friend. I didn't know him that well."
"But still…" Seejay looks at him and implores, in a small, childish voice. "Anything will do. I just... I want to know."
"I once helped him out when he got busted for trying to buy coke." He wonders just how much he should say, but then decides what the hell. He doesn't think Oliver's changed any and Seejay seems to be the guy who had borne the brunt of Oliver for the better part of his life. He doesn't think anything he would say would shock Seejay. "It was the first time I knew a different side to him." He answers, trying to find his best memory of Oliver, for Seejay. "His parents were never around and I guess it was just his way to lash out. He was messed up, but he wasn't a bad person… at least not then." H answers gently.
"I guess I was just hoping that he had been different then." Seejay bites his bottom lip and guiltily sighs. "Like somehow I wasn't good enough for him and that's why he was…"
"Don't. You weren't responsible for him." Ryan interrupts, looking at him strongly. "It's usually the other way around."
Seejay looks down, mumbles a soft 'thanks' which he barely hears and then, "I am sorry... for everything." Seejay whispers.
"You said that before." He points out.
"I know… but I just… I know that it isn't easy for you to have me in this house." Seejay chokes. "I promise that I'll be out of your life as soon as I can."
"Don't." He presses a hand on his shoulder, stopping his words… his thoughts right where they are. He doesn't know from where the words come, or why he says them, or even why he stays. The dishes are all done. The bagel is eaten. There is nothing to keep him here, nothing to make him talk to a boy whose father he hates - hates from the bottom of his heart. And yet, sitting here beside him, talking… it feels right. They are bound together… bound by a similar life.
"I meant what I said before -" He answers. This time meaning it fully in all its connotations. "You are staying here…at least for a while."
"Why?" Seejay looks at him curiously.
"Its something I got to do." He answers simply. "Besides," He taunts, "I want my wife to be right about you. She has her hopes set and I'll never hear the end of it if I disappoint her."
"Your reasons are weird sometimes."
"I know." He chuckles. "Try being married for seventeen years, then you'll understand."
...