A/N.: Thanks for the nice reviews and to my Beta ParisAmy. I hope you still like the story

14.Relationships –only the strong ones survive the storm called 'Life'

R.

I come back and I'm exhausted. Sure, I always used to being tired after a day full of lectures, but it had never been a physical exhaustion, but a mental one: when your head is so stuffed that nothing else fits into it anymore. Now not only my head complains about having had too much input, but also my body screams for relief and sleep.

"Hey Ryan, how was your day?" Kirsten is sitting at the kitchen table and looks at me.

"Uh…good…different, but good." I answer her. I still have trouble having casual conversations with her. It's not that I don't want to. I just can't. I still feel the tension between us. I know I can't keep the grudge for eternity. On the other hand I'm not ready yet to let it close.

"Tired now?"

"Yeah…sort of." I answer her. It's all so damn awkward. I would do everything if I could make this awkwardness go, but there's nothing. Well, forgiving could be a potential solution, but…I'm not ready for that. Accepting and trying to live with it is one thing, forgiving? It's too hard for me, especially because I know that after forgiving the next blow will hit me.

"Did you eat something?"She's in some strange hovering mode and I'm not sure whether I can take it. I have taken care of myself for long enough to know how to deal with my body and its physical failures.

"No…not really." I reply. It's not like I was hungry anyway.

"Shall I prepare you something – something that won't kill you?" The familiarity of this joke as long been gone. It doesn't have the effect of loosen up a strained atmosphere.

"No thanks, I'm really not hungry yet." I answer her. I want to lie down and have a few minutes of sleep.

"Alright, lie down then for a while. You know you have an appointment today?" She's driving me crazy. I didn't need a mother for years and now she pretends as if I was depending on a mother-figure. It's just wrong.

"I do." At least I was able to not think about my situation a few hours. This seems to have a soothing effect on my mind, because things don't seem to be too bad right now. Maybe I'm just too tired to think about the cruel reality.

"I'll wake you then."

K.

Ryan wasn't been happy that I woke him, but there I had no choice and he knew it and thus he climbed into the car without objections. Now we're on our way back and Ryan hasn't said any more words to me. He looks lost in thoughts. He seems to cope with the whole treatment or bunch of treatments better than I presumed he would. Nevertheless his silence is scaring me a bit.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask him curiously. He doesn't take his eyes off the window. I ask myself what he finds so fascinating about staring into the boring landscape. There's nothing more than dry sand and a little bit of coast. On the other hand he hasn't been here for so long. Maybe he sees changes I don't recognise. That might it be. Finally he looks at me.

R.

Shall I tell her? I'm not really sure whether this is such a good idea. On the other hand I'm tired of lying and avoiding. I'm tired of nearly everything lately so I shouldn't wonder about this. Right, my problem: I can't keep a grudge anyway. Otherwise I'd never talked a word to Trey or my Mom – never. It's awful. If people mean something to you, you basically allow them to treat you like they want to. You'll never be able to hold it against them for too long. At least I am not.

"Did you know that Marissa Cooper goes to Berkeley too?" I ask her finally. I have to admit that seeing her had been a strange feeling. Not that I still have feelings for her. My frustration about what she did, or didn't do has nullified every feeling which has been occupying me once.

"Uh…I think Julie mentioned it once, why? Did you meet her today?" I see some shades of concern washing over her face. I guess she has never been too happy about Marissa and me being a couple and in the retrospect I can't blame her.

"No, I only saw her."

"Did she see you too?"

"Uh…don't know, but if she did, I doubt that she'd recognised me. I barely recognise myself in the mirror lately."

"Don't worry about that. You're still the same young handsome man who came to us first. Maybe a little thinner, but we can change that." She's lying and she knows that.

"Yeah, and with a little less hair."

"Son, the bold head makes you more masculine." Mr. Nichole states from the driver seat. Great, that's what I've been looking for.

"Don't worry, it'll grow back." Kirsten replies.

I can only hope so. I'm sure whether I want to remain bold for the rest of my life. This sounds so ironic. Rest of my life. Who knows, probably I'm already heading to the finished line straight. And this sounds pathetic. I don't do self-pity. Honestly: it's a fucked up situation, if you have no clue whether you still have a few years ahead, or whether this is already the final episode. Of course I should think positive and think things will work out, but I'm a rational thinker. I don't believe in miracles and fact is: I need a miracle. I need a bone marrow donation. My brother's no match, my Mom won't be allowed, and I don't know who my Dad is, which means they have to find someone among the few voluntary healthy donors and this is statistically not going to happen.

"Are you hungry? You need to eat something." Kirsten asks.

"Uh…not really thank you."

"Ryan?" I don't like this mother-command-look on her face, and the tone in her voice neither.

"Kirsten, I'm tired." I let her know.

"No problem, you sit down on the couch in the living room and I'll bring you something to eat. No further debate. You'll eat." She determines and I have no energy to argue about this. It's sensless anyway. She's stubborn as hell.

"Don't worry Ryan, I won't allow Kirsten to enter the kitchen. We actually want you to keep the food." Mr. Nichole states.

"Lovely Dad."

"Ryan you know your place." I'm not in the mood for being social right now. I want to retreat into the room – my room and be left alone. Why doesn't she understand that I'm not someone who likes being hovered over? I'm not Seth and I'm not a puppy.

K.

"He still doesn't trust me." I tell my Dad when I join him in the kitchen.

"Give it a little more time. He just starts settling. Believe me when he has found his way around here, he'll be a little more trustful." He says to me while preparing lunch.

"Do you think so?"

"I do. No matter how tough this boy is. He's unable to hold a grudge, though." My father answers. I can't explain myself how he's able to read the boy after he tried to deny his entire existence at the beginning.

"What are you preparing?" I ask my father who's peeling potatoes.

"Mashed potatoes and a bit vegetable. That always soothed your Mom's stomach." He tells me. I look at him. For both of us this is some kind of trip into our past. It's like we live through our past a second time. The door bell ringing pulls me out of my thoughts.

"I'll get it." I say and go to open the door. I'm flabbergasted to see Marissa's huge and shiny smile in front of the door. I haven't spoken a word to her since…well at least since Ryan was gone.

"Marissa?" I ask her. I'm convinced she must have been mistakenly rang the bell of that house.

"Mrs. Cohen?" She exclaims me in the same astonished tone.

"Nice to see you. Are you looking for someone particularly?"

"Uh…well, I…I'm looking for…Ryan. I…saw him today at the campus…but I wasn't sure if it really has been him. He…has changed…in his appearance and…I asked Seth and he told me that he's here." She answers. After Ryan had left, Seth had stopped talking to her. He had been mad at her, but never came up with a reason.

"Uh…yes, he's here." I answer. I'm not sure whether I want her to meet Ryan. He didn't seem to be too happy when he broke the topic.

"Can…I talk to him?"

"Uh…I'm not sure. He's currently not well. I'll ask him. Can you wait here for a second?" She nods and then I leave her in the hallway. I go to Ryan who has made himself comfortable on the couch, watching some TV.

"Hey…uhm…Marissa's there. Are you up to talk to her, or do you want me to send her home?" I ask him.

"Ryan?" I can see him thinking, trying to make a decision. "If you want me to…I can…"

"No…It's okay."

"Okay, I send her to you and then give you some privacy." I answer him. I can only guess that there was even a tension between the both of them. Well, this shouldn't astonish me. There used to be a tension between the two of them all the time. Somehow there was always some degree of harmony missing between them. I don't want to blame Marissa entirely for this. I know that Ryan was never talking about what was going on in his mind or his past or anything related to his emotions, and I can understand that this is in some way an obstacle for a relationship. Nevertheless her selfish behaviour and actions didn't help it. It was as if she forced Ryan to keep the distance of not talking between the two of them. She engaged in excessively drinking, albeit she knew about his mother's alcoholism. She overdosed – out of some stupid reason called a cheating boyfriend – and Ryan had to carry the can of responsibility for it. It had been Ryan who had to rescue her from her mother, and it had been him who always stood in between them: always being the reason for a fight and always her reason to show Julie that she hadn't a say in her daughter's life anymore.

"He wants to see you, but don't wear him out. He's already tired." I warn her. This is my mother's instinct. I have to make clear to her that I'll watch her and that I won't allow her to hurt him.

"Oh…okay." Didn't she recognise that he was sick, or did she pretend not to notice?

I watch Ryan, how he puts on a mask. He surely doesn't want Marissa to see how sick he really is. He's hiding himself. I've seen this façade all too often when she has been around. It was like him pulling up thick brick walls. He never gave her permission looking behind them.

R.

"Hey, haven't seen you for a while." She says and sits down in the sofa in front of me.

"Haven't been here for quite a while." A strange feeling overwhelms me. Guilt or shame? Have I left her? Somehow I did, but the question is whether we'd still been a couple then and that's the point I doubt.

"You didn't say that you were leaving. When I came by one day, Seth told me you ran." She says and I don't want to hear the reproaching tone in her voice.

"It's not like you've had time for listening to me back then." I answer her, bracing my voice to let it sound calm.

"Pff, you and talking?

"Yeah right…"

It had been one of these nights in which Kirsten has been heavily drinking. Seth had found her passed out on the couch, the glass of vodka still tangling in her hand. I'll never forget the expression of fear and panic in his eyes. It was crying for help, it was confused, and it was struggling to believe that his family was falling apart, although he was aware it was.

"Is this bad? It's bad, is it? I mean…your Mom…did this happen to her too? This is not good, no not…it's not good. This…"

"Seth calm down. You're right this is not and good, and yes, my Mom happened to pass out like this too, but this doesn't mean the end of the world. I promise things will be alright again. This…is like an up and down ride in a rollercoaster. There are good days and bad ones, and I'm sure there soon will be a good one again." I told him to comfort him. Fact: I've never been talking that much in a life time as I did in that period of time, and I've never revealed so many things of my past either.

"And…what now? I mean, we can't leave her here, can't we? Or…maybe we should. If she realises that the couch is not really neck supporting she might think about …you know what and then…maybe she'll stop, or? This is an option?"His nerves were fried. He used to talk a lot when his nerves were on the edge.

"Unfortunately not. I'll bring her to bed." I said and went over to her, placing her skinny body in my arms. She'd lost wait due to the alcoholism. It ate her up. It was the same as it had been with my Mom. First it's only one glass of wine a day. Then two and soon a bottle and when it's not enough they start with the hard stuff. A drink instead of a meal becomes their motto and that's the point on which they slowly start to faint. I didn't tell Seth. I didn't want to scare him. Though the signs had been alarming and I knew I had to get someone believe me and get Kirsten the help she needed.

That day Sandy came home earlier than usually. I'd been preparing dinner. Out of some reason they had stopped ordering take out. I was the last one complaining about it, although I' d been in charge of the kitchen duties. Sometimes Seth helped me, but in general he was indulged in his comic books, escaping from the reality that hit him every time he entered this house.

"Hey Ryan, where's Seth?" He asked when he entered the kitchen.

"He's, upstairs in his room, I guess." I answered him. As soon as Sandy entered the house those days, I had the feeling I wanted to run. With every passing day I found it harder to share the room with him.

"Seems like he's retreating more and more lately." He said with a concerned face and I had to brace myself not the burst into snide laughter. This sentence came out so innocent that he nearly made me believe it.

"I don't blame him." I only answered. I was driving the road of provocation and I knew hell well that I wasn't quite in the position for doing so. On the other hand, I didn't know how else to make anyone see that everything was getting out of hand.

"How do I have to understand this?" Again this innocence. Sometimes I felt the need to slap his face.

"He found his Mom passed out on the couch in the living room, a glass of vodka still in her hand." I answered him in the same innocent way.

"Seems as if she had a hard day."

"Yeah, drinking and passing out is such a hard job." I replied. It was disgusting how the man who never turned his back, now turned it towards his own wife – his family. I was disgusted to see how easily he could forget his own maxims, by the only thread of his reputation – their reputation.

"Be careful with what you're saying young man. You're in no position of talking like that to me."His voice was steely, but I got used to it as it had been like that a lot lately.

"Sorry, but I can't pretend as if everything was fine, although nothing is." I responded to him.

"If I was you, I'd stop talking like that or your ass is out on the streets faster than you can say sorry."

"Yeah whatever, you wouldn't be the first one." I replied throwing the kitchen towel onto the kitchen counter. "Dinner's ready."I added and then went to the front door. I had to get out of that mad house.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked me.

"Out."

"We're still a family and that means we're having dinner together."This made the rage inside of me only boil further. If someone had asked me a few months before, I'd said that I could never believe that Sandy was a man of denial, but his behaviour made my anger reach a whole new level of frustration. I was so damn close to exploding. I didn't want to, that was the reason why I had to actually leave the house.

"Nice family: mother an alcoholic, father a workaholic and the child left alone in the centre of the shit." I answered. I had long ago stopped considering myself as part of the family. For Sandy and Kirsten I was nothing more than a housekeeper, cook and punching bag. For Seth? For Seth I was some kind of life buoy: the only thing that kept him afloat in this stream of chaos we got drowned in.

"Ryan, you're not going anywhere…"

"Then stop me." I couldn't hide the exhaustion in my voice. I was sick and tired of all of this. I wanted to get some peace. In fact I had been in the need of someone to talk to. Who had thought that I'd feel like that? Actually this wasn't such a rare thing. When things in Chino got too much I had the feeling too, and I went to Theresa. She usually listened to the few words I said and she could make up the rest in her mind. Where to go when you desperately need someone to talk to and a shoulder to lean onto? I was stupid enough to think that my girlfriend – Marissa – was the right place to go. At least we went already through enough. She would understand. That's what I thought.

I rang the bell of the house and waited for the door to open. I should've called before.

"Hey Ryan, what are you doing here?" She asked astonished to see me.

"Uh…I wanted to see you…" I was taken aback by her reaction.

"Uh…yes, sure…but…you should've called before. It's kinda bad right now." She answered. It felt like a slap directly into my face.

"Oh…okay…how about later? I…really need to talk to you…live at the Cohen's isn't really peachy right now…it's…really crap now…I…"

"Ryan, I can't. My Dad is here and he'll leave in a few days again and you know how much he means to me. Who knows when I'll see him again?" I knew what he meant to her, but I wasn't quite sure about my status.

""Oh…okay. Then, have a nice evening. Enjoy the time with your Dad." Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I should have given her a piece of my mind, maybe she had understood, maybe not.

"Thanks, I'll call you." She said and gave me a quick kiss and then closed the door. This kiss was definitely a lie. The whole Cohen household was a lie. I stood there for a while, not sure whether I wanted to break into tears, because of the pain the forlornness of the situation caused, or whether I wanted to batter the next tree into pieces. That night I decided to go to a bar in one of the dark and obscure areas at the end of Newport. The bar was a dark and dirty hole, but nobody wanted to see my ID when I ordered a beer. The bar smelled like sweat and blood, and it was loud from people screaming and stomping. I watched the two men fighting in the cage in the middle of the bar. I felt a twitch. I tried to ignore it, but it felt like a good idea. I had to vent my anger and pain, if I wanted to stay in service for Seth and his not-family.

"You're interested?" The bartender asked.

"Sort of." I answered. He nodded.

"Hey Jack, this kid is interested." Another man came towards me and looked down on me.

"When you're up to it you could be the next. This guy there is waiting for a match." He said and pointed into the direction of a bull of a man.

"Deal." And then I stood in the centre of the cage. Blood and sweat running down my body, muscles aching, breath and pulse pacing up speed, and my heart pounding hard against me chest as if it wanted to break out of my ribcage. Every punch I landed at the other man's face relieved the anger. Every punch I took, every cut released some of the pain. It was some kind of therapy and I even got paid.

When I got back to the pool house Seth sat on the bed waiting for me.

"Where…Ryan, what happened to your face? Where have you been?"

"Just…out…nothing."

"This doesn't look like nothing."

"Seth, I have my methods to deal with things, okay?" He understood and only nodded. "Have you been waiting here for me the whole evening?"

"Yes, I wanted…not that you get this wrong or something…I'm in no way interested in you…well I am, but not in a sexual meaning of being interested. I'm not feeling attracted by you, although you don't look bad, beside the bruises of course…"

"Seth, what do you want?"

"Can I sleep here? I…can't stand it inside of there anymore." He answered.

"No problem. Take the bed." I said and then went to the bathroom. That night I made it myself comfortable on the floor, as I did so many ongoing nights from then. I waited for her call or a text, in vain. I waited a few days. Nothing. My visits in the bar became more frequent.

"Why are you here?" I ask her.

"Answers. Where have you been? Why are you back? Why didn't you say a word to me?"

"I've been in Boston. I transferred from Harvard to Berkley. You didn't have time for me when I needed you the most." I answer every of her questions.

"And that's it. That was reason enough for just pissing off?"

K.

I'm hurt by the way she's talking to Ryan. I shouldn't eavesdrop. Is she really that ignorant? She's more alike her mother than she ever wants to admit: ignorant and self-absorbed, thinking everything is only turning around her. Otherwise she'd see that Ryan's sick; otherwise she'd been there when he had needed her. She never was. She demanded, but never gave anything back. Ryan had been her anchor, she had mooched on his kindness.

"If you've had a second for me then, you'd know the real reason for my leaving. But you never had time, you never asked. Shit…even Summer had been there for Seth…but…you've been…I actually don't know where you've been during all the time."

I'm astonished how calm he can stay, talking like this to his former girlfriend he had loved unconditionally and who in reward had let him down on one of his low points.

"But I've been there Ryan…you…only because I've been occupied the one time you decided to come to me and talk, doesn't mean I wasn't there. You could have come again."

"You said you'd call, you didn't."

"Hell Ryan, I forgot to. I'm only a human being as anyone else is, and human beings forget things. Don't tell me you never forgot something."

"This leads to nothing. Thanks for your visit."

"Now you throw me out? Just like that?"

"Marissa, I don't even know what you want from me."

"I…I dunno, I…it's just not fair that you blame me for everything. You were the one who pissed off just like that without a word. Did you even consider how I felt when I came here one day and Seth had to tell me that you ran? Did you ever consider how it might hurt me? No you didn't, because otherwise you would have stayed. So, don't blame me for not being there for you when you're not the slightest inch better than me."

"Yeah, you're right. It's all my fault."

"You're an asshole. You've changed and I don't think I like this new asshole attitude of yours." She replies frustrated and storms out of the room. I watched her and her harsh words made me flinch. She paces by. No, she's no different from Julie.

"Marissa?" I ask her in a quite tone. She turns around. Her face is drawn in fury.

"I let you out." I say. When we both stay outside I turn back to her. "You recognised that Ryan's sick and probably not in any shape for girly drama, did you?" I ask her.

"He…I mean he's…changed…though…I…"

"And the reason why he left was that the situation at our home had become unbearable for him and we didn't leave him another option than departing from here." I let her know. I won't allow her to blame Ryan for anything that had happened in that period of time. Without him, who knows whether I had gotten the help that I needed then.

"Don't blame him for anything. If there's someone to be blamed for, then it's us – me and Sandy. We are the ones to be blamed and even though I think that it's you who's to blame for him running without giving you a word. Summer was there for Seth, I know that. I might not have been myself during that time, but I recognised that Summer was there for Seth, but you weren't for Ryan. All the time while you've been a couple, Ryan was only occupied with rescuing you out of your own mess, being the bumper between you and your mother and sweeping up the pieces that you produced. You should be glad that he held on for so long with you." I see that tears are welling up in her eyes. She didn't change a bit.

"That's not true." She answers me and then runs away. Oh yes, it is true. Ryan always blamed himself for having brought so much trouble in our lives, but eventually it had been us causing him so much pain.

I go back into the house. I watch my father bringing a plate to where Ryan has been sitting, but he now comes towards us.

"Ryan?" I ask him. He has to eat something. He's already thin. He needs to try to keep his weight, at least.

"Sorry, I…I just wanna lie down. I don't feel too well." He says and then disappears upstairs.