A/N.: Thanks for all those nice reviews and to my Beta, who just has written a very nice one-shot =) The chapter Sandy will appear on stage and I tried to rewrite the chapter as to take the whole POV-Confusion out of it. So, please put up with this chapter, the next one will be better
12. Eyes – We can see clearer through them, but what we see depends on the person who's looking through them
R.
I open my eyes a bit and see the sunlight. My body is sore, and I still have a headache, but …I can say it feels better than yesterday. I turn to the other side and my eyes meet a curly mop.
"Hey, you're finally awake." The familiar voice that I haven't heard for years says. I don't know what to answer. I'm certain that I've probably messed this up. I haven't been really honest with him and I can imagine how pissed he must have felt when he read Trey's letter. Coming has started to develop into a really bad idea.
"Hey." I answer and sit up.
S.
"Wasn't the nicest feeling when I had to get to know from your brother that you're sick." I have to show him how frustrated I've been about finding out…and not through him. He needs to understand that his behaviour was wrong and that he can't treat me like that. I'm not anyone, but his friend. At least this is what I thought we've been. I'm not sure what we're now.
R.
I don't deserve it any better. Explanation? I have none. I didn't think that this was any of his business. That's why I didn't say anything. He has had enough trouble with his family. There was no need for letting him know.
S.
"You're aware that you've been lying in all these e-mails you've been writing, in which you told me you were fine. Why didn't you tell me? Didn't you trust me, or was this again one of your strange protection measures?" This must be one of these stupid only-Ryan-Atwood-thinks-that-way-explanation. There has to be.
R.
His voice is calm, but I can hear he's upset. I only shrug my shoulders as answer. I have no explanation at the ready. I just didn't tell him, or write him, or whatever.
S.
"You are aware off that I thought we were friends. Even after you pissed off without giving notice, I still thought we were friends, but this?" I at least want him having a bad conscience, because I know I won't be able to stay mad at him for too long. I'm way too glad that he's here again, and I'm way too afraid of losing him. After what we went through this can't be the end of our way. There are so many things we have to share.
"Ryan, I'm honestly not sure whether we're still friends. You know, friends tell each other the truth and stuff, but you didn't tell me this and…"
R.
"Seth, okay, I got it. I'm sorry, okay?" I cut him off. I can't listen to any more reproaches. I already feel bad about this.
S.
Of course he's sorry. He always is. Mom drinks herself into oblivion, Dad beats the shit out of him and he's the one sorry for it. This man lives in a twisted world.
"Nothing is okay. I let you help me…us and…you stayed here for me, although I witnessed that all of this went over your limit and…I felt so fucking grateful for it that I haven't even been angry at you when you finally left for good. But fuck! You should have told me! I don't know whether I could have done something, but I'm sure…I need to know these things and…" I express my gratefulness, hoping he might understand why I need him to be honest with me.
R.
"Seth, pipe down. I got the message…and now I'm here and I don't get your point." I can't take this drama immediately after waking up. This is just too much for me.
"And what now? Pretending as if nothing has happened?" He asks me and flops down on the bed.
"I have no idea." I answer him. I really have none.
S.
"You know, it doesn't look too bad…I mean…your head without hair, makes you seem even more masculine." I tell him. Well, actually with his pale face and the missing hair he looks like a doll. I want to…cheer him up. There's nothing else I can do for him. I can only cheer him up and I'll do. Also there's no need to talk about spilt milk. What has happened happened full stop. We don't need all this sort-it-out talk.
"Liar." He answers me. He probably has seen himself in a mirror. I should have thought about that first.
"Okay, so…you're hungry?" I ask him. Pretending as if nothing happened, doesn't seem to be such a bad idea. At least it doesn't appear to be that difficult.
"Do you mind, if I first make use of the bathroom?"
"Of course. I'll be waiting downstairs for you then." I answer him. I still can sense when Ryan is in the need for his brooding space. That's a good sign, isn't it? I mean that means that the distance between the two of us didn't really grow big, or?
R.
I wait for Seth to be gone, before I make my way to the bathroom. I have to move slowly, so I don't get hit by a wave of dizziness. I step under the shower and let the hot water massage my aching back, my aching muscles. I can feel how they relax. I don't want to let Seth wait for too long, so I step out and wrap a towel around my waist. Shit is it cold in here. I recognise that I'm still freezing. I hurry up with towelling myself dry and then put on some warm cloths. I slowly make my way downstairs into the kitchen. I can hear Seth's banter about this and that. I enter the kitchen and I'm astonished to see that it's his grandpa he's talking to. They never seemed to have such a good relationship before. I never listened to him talking like that to his grandfather.
"Good morning Ryan, I hope you're feeling better today." Mr. Nichol says and I'm taken aback. I thought I was only dreaming when he helped my out of my bathroom misery yesterday evening. As I see now: it wasn't a dream, but cruel reality, and I have no clue of how to respond to it.
S.
My grandpa? Nice to Ryan? We both exchange looks, but I better don't comment on this situation. It might damage the quite harmonic atmosphere.
R.
"Uh…yeah…, but no, thanks." I only answer hoping I don't sound as I feel by Mr. Nichol's question and hoping he won't take a no as offence.
S.
"You should eat something. You haven't eaten all day yesterday." My Grandpa is concerned? Hell, things really have changed.
"I…sorry, but I'm not hungry."
"I don't care, you need your strength." my Grandpa says in his all determining voice and places a plate with toast in front of Ryan.
"I'll get you some coffee." I say and get up. I still know how much he loves his black hot coffee.
"No…no coffee Seth. The treatment doesn't tolerate caffeine." Oh shit. Brick. Huge, red brick. How could I forget about this? Why didn't anyone warn me or gave me a list, which states what Ryan's allowed to consume and what not?
"Sorry." I mumble and sit down next to Ryan and watch my Grandpa place a glass orange juice in front of him.
"It's okay. So how's College going?" He asks me.
"It's cool, I mean it's not the east coast, but it's okay though. Man I envy you for being at the east coast."
"Too cold, believe me."
"And what are you doing now?"
R.
"Nothing. Getting bored and watching how my future fizzles out." I state. Actually, I have no idea how things will go one from now. I don't know how long this treatment will last. I don't know how long I can stay away from my studies without losing my scholarship, and I certainly don't know whether I can get a new one when I'm through to this…when I'll ever be. I didn't even manage to hand in the form to inform College that I'm currently sick and not cutting classes just for fun. I should start to think about a plan B, a good one, because A isn't going to work.
S.
"Berkeley is not far from here, maybe you can enrol there." I suggest. Right now he doesn't look too happy about his situation. Hell, he's Ryan. He's never happy when he gets the feeling of being useless and depending. He had been working so hard to get where he now, although I can only judge this from out time at Harbor, but I'm sure he hasn't changes in that aspect. This must be hard for him: watching how what he has been working for fade away, by something which is totally out of his hand and totally unfair considering Ryan's whole past.
R.
"Seth, first of all the term has already started. Second of all I don't even know how to pay my medical bills, so I don't even start thinking about how to afford Uni." No, facing reality is not good, if you do it in the morning. I shove the plate away from me. Now I'm really not hungry anymore. I want to close my eyes and hide from all these news I have trouble to digest. Everything's gone. I'm stuck here with nothing left. How am I supposed to deal with that?
S.
"But…maybe…I mean this won't be too bad, or? I mean, you'll find a solution." I'm a little bit scared by this mood swings. He barely showed any moods and now this? I have the feeling as if he's on the edge with something, but I can't figure out what it is. I need to, if I want to start helping him as he helped me, something which is impossible. I will never be able to provide him the same support. I'm not as strong as he is. I'm content that at some point I have to let him down. I know that. It's me I'm talking about. I'm not almighty like Ryan. I can't cope with trouble and dangerous situation.
R.
"Seth, things aren't that easy when…you have to make out a living on your own." I answer him. I didn't mean to snap at him, but I can't brace myself right now. I just…I don't know what's wrong with me lately. My nerves are fried and I can't calm them down. It's like everything is upsetting me lately.
S.
"Only because you make a complication out of everything, it doesn't mean that everything is complicated." I snap back at him. I thought he had realised that we're there for him – again. Why can he talk like that in front of me, after my mother went to get him and even my grandpa is ready to help him? Why can't he still behave as if he was all alone without any helping hands?
"Sorry, I…go back and lie down a bit." He apologizes and then leaves us.
Hell, is he sensitive. I didn't mean to insult him. I jump up from the chair and want to apologize too. I didn't know that he had to come up for everything alone. I'm not experienced in such things. I don't know how it is not having money. On the other hand I can't understand how he can be so blind and deaf that he doesn't see what's going on around him – that we're all there to make it easier for him. Grandpa stops me.
"Give him some space. It's not easy for him right now." He says. I never thought that my Grandpa was able to show that much understanding for Ryan.
"But you'll help him, or?" I ask him. I can't bear the thought that Ryan is alone with all these sorrows – sorrows he wouldn't have if he'd stayed with us. We left him alone with everything and now we have to make him trust us again, so we can lift some of the weights on his mind from him. I have to admit: Ryan's right. The situation really isn't as easy.
"Of course, but you know how hard it is to convince Ryan." I know. I know.
C.
It's hard to watch the boy – whom I disrespected with every fibre of my body - who once has had a bright future lying ahead now struggle with his live. He could have had it so easy – implementing his plans and dreams, but he was thrown in a downward spiral instead and no one has cared. It was as if nobody had actually wasted a thought about Ryan's life and now we all pretend to be fussy about it. I can understand that he's pissed and distrustful. I would be too.
S.
"It's unfair. He always worked harder than anyone else, but someone seems to like throwing immense obstacles in his way – as if someone doesn't want him being happy." I say to my Grandpa. In the last years I was able to build up a bond of trust between him and me. If I didn't feel like I could talk about something to Mom or Dad, I could always come to him.
C.
"Let me figure something out. Right now the best is if he rests. Although he looks as if this treatment doesn't do him anything, it's just a facade." I warn my Grandson not expect too much physical strength from his friend.
"I know. I know."
I meet my Grandson's concerned face. I have to do something. I have to think.
"Excuse me for a bit, but I have something to check on." I say to him and then disappear in my study.
Later that day I go upstairs. I haven't seen or heard anything from the boy after the morning's events. I knock gently at the door. I don't want to burst into his privacy. I owe him this after the thread I imposed on him. I don't get a response, thus I slowly open the door. Ryan's sitting on the bed reading a book. I clear my throat to make him aware of my presence. His head snaps into my direction. I didn't mean to startle him. Anyway, this day seems to be the day of 'I didn't mean to'.
"Can I have five minutes with you?" I ask him. He nods and puts the book aside.
R.
Now I'm scared. What does he want? I'm sure now he's going to tell me why he's doing all of this. I'm sure he has some evil plan up on his mind. Nothing's for free not even people's friendliness and especially not their help. Help is an economical measure. Nowadays you can measure everything pecuniary.
C
I can see he's wary about me. I walk over to him and take a seat in one of the chairs.
"My wife used to tell me that the worst thing of being sick like that is the feeling of being useless: sitting or lying around the whole day without anything useful to do." I start the conversation. He throws a side glance at me, he still doesn't trust me. I haven't given him reasons for doing so yet, but I will.
"Well, I know how much your studies mean to you and this morning I could see how much it hurt you to serve a compulsory break on the sub bench, but I've made some phone calls. Seth's right. Berkeley is not far from here. So, if you want to, you can transfer from Harvard to Berkeley and go on with your studies."
"Thanks for your efforts, but…I think this exceeds my financial limit."
"Damn it Ryan, they're accepting your scholarship…don't you realise…that Colleges are looking for talents like you? I've seen some of your works and I can only pray to God that you later won't work for one of our competitors, because things would look seriously bad for us then." This boy doesn't have any self-esteem. Someone really needs to knock some sense into the genius creative head. Otherwise someone will exploit the fact that the boy doesn't believe a glimpse in himself.
R.
"Why would you do this?" I don't trust this man. Fact: trust has always been one of my so called issues, but it doesn't change the other fact that it never did me good when I trusted others too well.
C.
"Hell Ryan, can't you just for a moment think about that people might do you something good, that it's not always you who has to give and help someone? All of us want to help and support you, because we want to, because you mean something to us. Truth: hearing these words from me must be the strangest thing on earth for you, but please stop your skittish behaviour and start trusting us. Things will only get more difficult and exhausting otherwise." I look at him. For the first time I can look into his eyes and immediately I understand what must have caught my daughter's attention from the very beginning. No matter how thick the walls around the boy are – these eyes are like open water: open for everybody swimming and exploring the soul underneath these eyes.
"Think about it. I'd appreciate it if you'd accept my offer as well as the fact that we want to genuinely help."