Author's Note: Okay so I'm officially home with much more stable internet access. I'll try to be consistent and update every Wednesday from now on. Hopefully. Thanks again for all the follows and reviews!
"How's your knee doing?"
Ryan didn't want to answer. He didn't want to listen. He was still trying to calm his emotions. He had too many running at once. Embarrassed to be talking about his childhood and punishments, anger that this stranger was judging his father's parenting, so many others he chose not to focus on.
He heard the car door close. Was he supposed to follow Sandy in to the pharmacy? The car was still on. He stayed. Did he just have a new dad now? A new family? No. That was stupid.
Sandy didn't understand. Soon he would see. But then what? Sandy really didn't seem like the type of guy who would beat him. He was weaker than his real father. So what would he do instead?
Sandy walked out of the pharmacy, relieved to find his car and son right where he had left them. He smiled to himself. He was a good kid. This would be good for him. A real family, a real home, not having to worry about getting hurt. He drove his son home.
"Why don't you go sit on the couch and watch some TV? I'll bring you your pills and something to eat?" Ryan assumed he didn't have a choice. He didn't really care.
He hobbled into the living room and sat. What would he have been doing if he was at home? It was almost noon. His mother would still be in bed, his father would be at work, Trey would be out. Ryan probably would just be sitting on the couch watching TV. After cleaning the house, of course. There were five different remotes sitting on the end table. Ryan decided it was best not to touch any of them.
Instead, he watched Sandy's daughter walk across the floor and into the living room. What was her name? It didn't really matter. Well, it did a little. He was going to be living here now. And she was his sister.
He had a sister. And a new brother.
She walked over to him. No, not him. The remotes next to him. She grabbed one and pointed it at the TV. It turned on. She changed the input and grabbed another remote and pointed it below the DVD player. He watched her walk over to large cabinet and open it. Hundreds of DVDs were inside. She walked behind and ottoman sitting near a chair and pushed it with all her weight to the cabinet, climbed up on it, and plucked a movie down from the top shelf. She walked back over to the TV, opened the case, and put it in the DVD player. She grabbed the smaller remote from next to Ryan and climbed up next to him on the couch.
Ryan wasn't sure he'd be able to work the TV like that even if he'd lived here his whole life. She had lived here for four years, had been on the planet for four years, and knew exactly how to get what she wanted.
She solidified her control over the situation by telling him, without even looking over at him, "We're going to watch Frozen."
Her voice was so tiny. Her body was so tiny. Ryan had never spent time around children. She looked so fragile. He would most definitely break her if he ever touched her. He added her to his mental notes of things to stay away from. Unfortunately, she was sitting very close to him. He tried to subtly scooch away from her, but he was blocked in by the armrest. Why hadn't she picked another place to sit?
Why didn't he ask Ryan what he wanted for lunch? He had no idea what he liked, what he didn't like, what he was allergic to. He had to make lunch for Rosie too. He made her a peanut butter sandwich and threw a handful of grapes on the plate. That was done. What if Ryan was allergic to peanut butter? And what person over the age of ten desired to eat a plain peanut butter sandwich?
He had to make lunch for himself, too. He decided to just make two sandwiches covered in meat and cheese. He could just pick off what he didn't want, right? He put everything on a tray and walked it to the living room.
His heart gave a slight panic when he saw Rosie sitting so close to a stranger, unsupervised. His panic settled, though, when he realized how uncomfortable Ryan looked before he even saw Sandy. He felt awful for even thinking his own son would be capable of hurting a four year old, but he really didn't fully know him yet. He would have to be more careful.
He recognized the previews from a movie he had put back in the case and onto the shelf at least a dozen times. He put the tray on the coffee table and fixed the small mess Rosie had made rescuing her favorite movie.
"Rosie, maybe Ryan doesn't want to watch Frozen."
"Everybody wants to watch Frozen." It was a fact. But did Ryan really not want to? How was he supposed to handle the situation? Seth would have either had some desire to watch whatever Rosie put on the TV, left the room to do something else, or grabbed the remote and changed the channel. Ryan was sitting prisoner in between her and an armrest. Should he move her away? Would that make it look like he didn't trust Ryan around his daughter? Or would he be saving him?
He looked at Ryan searching for an answer in his face. He liked being able to stare at his son after all these years of not knowing he existed. His facial expression was completely neutral, but Sandy watched his eyes follow the characters in the preview around with a quiet intensity. He noticed Sandy staring at him and seemed startled. He figured out what Sandy was trying to get at and nodded awkwardly.
"Whatever. It's fine."