A/N: Some light google researching informs me that nausea isn't actually a common symptom of leukemia, but sorry to say that Seth is in that tiny percentage of people who do have it.

Also, probably already specified, but just saying again, this takes place in S1, and I'm going with my S1 interpretations of the characters. I decidedly don't love Seth's arc after that and what they do with his character.

Updated February 2024.

Chapter 8

"Why do I, like, always kick your ass at this game?" Seth paused his fervent tapping on the controller buttons long enough to throw Ryan a dazzling smile.

"Don't say ass," Ryan replied, watching his ninja die for what seemed like the thousandth time.

With some of their games it was essentially a level playing field, but Seth was something of a prodigy with the ninja game, a thing which Seth had declared to be the World's Most Useless Talent.

Still, he did seem to enjoy reveling in it.

"Hey, at least you're better than Dad," Seth offered. "If there is some way of slicing your own head off in this game, that man will find it."

"You had enough to eat?" Ryan glanced at Seth's plate nestled next to him on the couch.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"And you're feeling okay?" Ryan gave him a pointed look as he peered out from underneath his thick bangs.

Seth threw up his hands in disgust. "God, puke up a lung once and you never hear the end of it." He shook his head. "I'd hate to see what might've happened if Mom and Dad weren't around. Though I must commend you...you can yell really loudly."

Shortly before Sandy and Kirsten had left for their dinner date, Ryan had walked into the kitchen to find Seth on his hands and knees on the kitchen floor, coughing and hacking and gagging.

He'd called for Sandy and Kirsten and they did what they did best, swooping in and taking care of things, probably relieved to see that the problem was only throwing up, having managed to imagine far worse between the time they'd heard Ryan yelling and the time they'd reached the kitchen.

After Seth's stomach had settled and Sandy had cheerfully regaled them- over Seth's weak protestations-with the surprisingly high number of Seth Vomit Stories, it had taken considerable cajoling from Ryan and Seth before Sandy and Kirsten willingly left the house.

Seth yawned, stretching his arms over his head

"You know, with me sick and all, you'll probably have to see a lot of really gross stuff. I mean, it's not like some mucus-ed up alien is gonna pop out of my chest or anything, but it's probably not going to be pretty." He paused. "Are you gonna be cool with it, like seeing me like that?"

"Yeah, of course. Sure. No, it's cool." Ryan faltered a little. "I mean, I just have a thing about stuff that comes out of the body."

That wasn't entirely true. He didn't like bodily functions, but when he was prepared for it, like when he knew his mom or her boyfriend or Trey were going to be hungover, he was able to play the caregiver role pretty seamlessly.

There was just something about that moment he walked into the kitchen, something about knowing that it wasn't a hangover or a temporary problem or something that could be fixed with a pot of coffee and a greasy breakfast that felt overwhelming.

Instead of knowing what to do, he'd just felt helpless.

He knew how to tend to a hangover; he didn't know how to tend to this, and grilled cheese and video games felt like a pathetic attempt at helping, at easing the burden on any of the Cohens.

"Ah." Seth nodded knowingly. "A little squeamish about projectile vomit. I see." He shrugged. "Sorry to traumatize you like that. And just, you know, you don't need to come to the hospital all the time if it's weird for you." He sniffed a little, eyes glued to the screen. "What's say I beat you again, Atwood?"

Ryan swallowed thickly. "Sure." He tapped the start button. "And I can handle it. No problem," he added. "Just try not to projectile vomit on me, huh?" He snuck a glance at Seth, who was sneaking a glance at him.

They both smiled.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sandy took a sip of wine as he perused the menu. Nothing sounded particularly appealing to him, but then he hadn't eaten much of a full meal in the past few days. He smiled faintly at Kirsten, who stared at her menu with all the intensity of a doctor performing open heart surgery.

Kirsten felt Sandy's steady gaze and met his eyes briefly. She let out the breath she hadn't even been aware she'd been holding and closed the menu.

Sandy took her hand from across the table and squeezed it.

"You know, this was really nice of the boys to plan this, but we don't have to stay here," Sandy suggested, voice low.

"Wha-what do you mean?" Kirsten asked, forehead wrinkling. "You want to go home?"

"No, no, not that," Sandy insisted. "But I don't know..." He sighed in frustration, unable to voice his feelings coherently.

Kirsten looked down at herself, her fancy black dress, her shoes that were designed far more for vanity than practically. She looked at Sandy, his suit slightly wrinkled, his face worn and his hair unruly. Kirsten looked around them, at the candlelight, the stark white tablecloths, and all of the different forks that lay beside her plate.

"This does feel like a bit much right now," she said. "We could always find a burger joint," Kirsten suggested, biting her lip. "Relive the college days." She arched an eyebrow.

oooooooooooooooooo

Fifteen minutes later, they were giggling in a booth at a nearly deserted burger joint, eating hamburgers, splitting an order of fries, and reminiscing on days past. They sat on the same side of the booth, holding onto each other, as if their happiness only existed when they touched.

"The roof leaked, there was mold in the walls, it smelled like skunk all the time, there was no air conditioning." Sandy nibbled on a fry. "We had the epitome of a couple's first house."

Kirsten snuggled her head into Sandy's chest. "You loved that house."

"I did," Sandy agreed, smiling fondly.

"You loved the creaky old porch swing. You loved watching the guests accidentally pull off the broken doorknob and frantically try and replace it before anyone noticed. And you love that bed." Kirsten smiled. "You remember that bed, don't you?"

While living in Berkeley with no financial support from Kirsten's estranged father or Sandy's mostly estranged mother, they struggled to make ends meet.

The house and their junker car constantly needed repairs, and there were the basic necessities of raising a kid. Their one truly nice piece of furniture was a king-sized bed with an ornate wooden bed frame. It was so heavy and unwieldy to move that the house's previous owners had left it behind for them.

When Seth had grown out of his crib, the twin bed they'd gotten at a thrift store didn't impress him nearly as much as his parents' accommodations did. He spent practically every night for the next year and a half sleeping snuggled between them.

"It made sex pretty damn difficult," Sandy reminded her. "We had to hire a baby-sitter and find some place to spend the evening."

"You mean find somewhere to park," Kirsten corrected him, a playful twinkle in her eye.

"And I might've kept Seth in diapers at night just a little bit longer." Sandy chuckled.

Kirsten laughed. "Hey, diapers are expensive."

"So's laundry detergent," Sandy countered. He smiled wistfully, kissing the top of Kirsten's head. "I loved that bed," he added.

And they had, despite all of the drawbacks. They loved the cozy family they had had in Berkeley. They loved cuddling together on the bed, Seth dozing off with his head on Sandy's chest. When there were nightmares, they were both by Seth's side to soothe his fears and tears. They were a close-knit family.

Even when Seth got his own bed in his own room, they still shared meals every day and went for long walks on the weekends.

When they moved to Newport, things had slowly come undone in their once close family. Seth had struggled with the move and with fitting in at his new school and with Kirsten starting a job that brought more stress and demands on her than the tiny art gallery she'd worked in when they lived in Berkeley. He'd gradually drifted away and into his own world, a little bit at a time, retreating into himself and his comic books and his video games and moving away from his parents.

At first he'd seemed angry with all the changes, and then just more sad, and then finally just more resigned to the way things were and to his own unhappiness.

It was nice to remember a time when they had all had time for each other, when work and bills and charity events hadn't prevented them from being together all the time.

And it was nice to step back and realize that they felt close again, that since Ryan had joined their family they'd gradually started to come together for more meals and more movie nights and more moments of connection. They knew more about what was going on in Seth's life than they had in years.

"How do you think they're doing?" Kirsten asked suddenly. "Should I call and check up on them?"

"I'm sure they're fine," Sandy reassured her. "Ryan will watch out for Seth. He's a good baby-sitter." His expression turned solemn. "He's a good brother."

"He is," Kirsten agreed quietly, snatching a stray fry that had fallen onto their tray. "He's a lot like you."

"No." Sandy shook his head. "Seth is like me. Ryan...his situation is a lot like mine was, but he's more like you."

"They're good boys," Kirsten said.

"The best," Sandy agreed. "Even if I still don't buy that IMAX parking lot story."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ryan heaved a frustrated sigh. His head was swimming.

If there weren't enough going on already, he had a pre-calc test the next day, and he couldn't seem to make sense of the equations in front of him.

Despite his high score on the placement exam, Ryan found himself floundering a little in some of his classes. His teachers seemed to expect him to know a lot of things already, stuff he'd never been taught at his old school. Ryan felt like was playing a frantic game of catch-up in most of his classes.

Seth had advised him to play the old my brother had cancer card with his teachers-his exact words had been We should really be trying to milk this cancer thing for all it's worth here, Ryan-but Ryan wasn't sure that Sandy or Kirsten would approve, that it would fly that well with his teachers, or that it would set him up for much success when he took Calculus the next school year.

To be fair though, it was hard to focus on pre-calc with everything going on with Seth.

Ryan was mostly preoccupied with worrying about Seth and Sandy and Kirsten, but he found a small amount of mental bandwidth was capable of thinking about how uncomfortable it was going to be, the Cohen house without Seth's chatter and Seth's energy and Seth drawing all of the Cohens and Ryan out in conversation, and Seth being the intermediary between him and Sandy and Kirsten.

Ryan cared for both Sandy and Kirsten deeply and in different ways, but he still wasn't quite comfortable having parents. Their attention and their affection and their interest in his life and the way they set limits and rules in places he'd never experienced limits and rules before could be...a lot.

Having a brother though, that was okay.

Trey and Seth were very different-as people and as brothers.

Trey had always been pushing Ryan away, trying to put him in his place, calling him squirt and telling embarrassing stories about him in front of his friends. He was loyal and protective in his own way, but he also seemed to take the older brother's edict seriously that it was his job to knock Ryan down a peg.

Ryan hadn't really stopped to define what Seth was to him before he got sick. Now though, he recognized that, in a lot of ways, Seth was the opposite of Trey. He was always trying to include Ryan, to convince him that he belonged where he was, trying to tell Ryan in that blunt funny occasionally infuriating way that he was being stupid for rejecting the trappings of the Cohen household, or feeling like he wasn't good enough for them.

Sandy and Kirsten tried to deliver the same messages sometime-or at least he thought they did-but they did so in a more earnest and intense and distinctly parental way that made him squirm.

It's okay to trust us, sweetie.

We want to pay for your ludicrously expensive private school.

$200 isn't that expensive for a pair of jeans, and it's important to get something that will last.

Sometimes with Seth it felt like he was smacking Ryan upside the head, but not in the older brother Beat it, wuss way, and more in the Quit being ridiculous and take the lunch money, dude. If you don't, I will go all haunted doll movie on your ass, and you'll put the twenty back in my mom's wallet but later you'll find it tucked in your math book, and then you'll throw it into the ocean, but then a soggy twenty dollar bill will be waiting for you on your pillow, so let's cut all the creepy stuff in the middle there and you just take the money, huh?

Yes, Seth and Trey were very different.

Ryan also kept thinking back to a few weeks ago, before the diagnosis and before the upheaval in the Cohen household had thrown everything into disarray.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Seth and Ryan were tapping buttons feverishly, calling out instructions to each other as they traversed the video game landscape.

Kirsten appeared in the doorway.

"Boys, can you please set the table? Your dad will be home soon with dinner." She walked away without waiting for a response.

Ryan hit 'pause' and immediately rose to stand.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Seth demanded. "We're like two minutes from the end of the level."

"We have to set the table."

"She's fine waiting a few minutes." Seeing Ryan's skeptical look, Seth rolled his eyes. "Trust me, Ryan. The first ask is an early one. We've got a solid eight to ten minute window before we're actually needed."

"We can pick up where we left off after dinner."

"And lose our momentum?" Seth looked incredulous. Then he looked thoughtful. "Do you want to finish the level now?"

Ryan shrugged.

"Of course you do," Seth supplied. "No more of this Ryan Atwood house guest routine, okay? We need Ryan Atwood, brother and ally."

"What?"

"C'mon man. You were supposed to even out our ranks, but instead you're on their side. You do everything before you're even asked, you won't even leave a dish in the sink for five minutes." Seth narrowed his eyes at Ryan. "You're making me look bad in my own home." He made a face. "And making it three-on-one here."

"So?"

"So, were you always this neat and obedient in Chino?"

Ryan frowned, thinking about the giant mess that was his bedroom in Chino. He and Trey were also supposed to trade off nights with doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, but sometimes he'd blown it off or would fight with Trey, insisting it was Trey's night even when he knew it wasn't.

"Dude, I knew it," Seth crowed triumphantly.

"So what if my room was messier?" Ryan demanded. Seth just didn't understand. "I don't want to be ungrateful, okay?"

"Oh trust me, Ryan, we all know you're grateful. We are all super well-acquainted with The Ryan Atwood Gratitude. We'd like to meet more of the real Ryan Atwood sometime, The Ryan Atwood Spontaneity, okay? We'd all prefer that to you getting up at dawn to buff the silverware once a week or whatever. My parents would probably cry from joy if you got lazy on a single chore one time."

"You know, in the time it took to have this conversation, we could've set the table already," Ryan pointed out.

Seth waved a dismissive hand. "It's not about the table or the video games, Ryan. It's the principle of the thing."

"Whatever, I'm going to set the table."

"Trust me, man. You're on a dangerous path." Seth shook his head sadly.

Kirsten reappeared in the doorway.

"Hey boys—-"

"Dammit woman, get off our backs!" Seth half-shouted.

Kirsten took a step back, blinking in confusion.

"Sorry Mom, didn't mean for you to be in the line of fire. You know I'm something of a character actor." Seth gestured towards Ryan. "Now you try."

Ryan's eyebrows shot up.

To his surprise, Kirsten turned and looked at Ryan expectantly, an amused glint in her eye.

"Well?" She asked.

"Uh, could we have two more minutes?" Ryan asked hesitantly. "We're almost at a good save point."

"Five more minutes, but that's it." Kirsten looked like it was taking everything in her to keep a straight face.

"Thanks." Ryan smiled shyly.

He turned to look back at the screen, but glanced back at Kirsten when he saw her mouth moving.

"Thank you," she mouthed at Seth.

Seth flashed her a discreet thumbs up.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ryan slammed his pre-calc book shut, finally coming to terms with the fact that no effective studying was going to take place. He decided to go check on Seth.

He hadn't really wanted to leave him, but he really did have to study and Seth had said he was about to head to bed anyway.

He closed the door to the guest bedroom behind him.

Sandy and Kirsten seemed to like it when he slept there, and Ryan was happy to do anything that made any of the Cohens happy. He was slowly moving his things from the pool house to the guest bedroom. He couldn't seem to do it all at once, part of him wanting to hang on to what Seth had dubbed his Fortress of Solitude.

Ryan smiled upon entering the living room, finding Seth sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep. Half of his body was hanging precariously over the edge of the couch.

The tv was still on, bright graphics flashing across the screen and making Seth's face glow ten different colors.

Ryan quickly packed up the video game console, shoving all the loose wires behind the television and fishing Seth's controller out from underneath the couch.

"Seth..hey..Seth.." Ryan shook his friend's shoulder gently. He frowned slightly at the dark purple rings that hugged Seth's eyes, and the unnaturally pale pallor of Seth's skin.

Seth stirred slightly, a tiny groan escaping his lips. He swallowed, and his body twisted a little.

"No," he mumbled. "Don't wanna move." He smacked his lips. "Can't make me."

"C'mon, Seth. Gotta get to your room, then you can sleep," Ryan offered, wrapping his arms around Seth's mid-section and helping him off of the couch.

"Carry me, Chino," Seth grumbled, a tiny smile making its way to his lips.

"Shut up, Cohen." Ryan returned the smile.

The boys made their progress to the stairs, Ryan holding Seth up slightly, while Seth's head leaned heavily on Ryan's shoulder. Seth could hardly keep his eyes open so, resigned, he kept them closed.

"A lot of things are gonna change when I'm gone." Seth's voice was thick and slow-sounding and practically breathless as they reached the top of the stairs.

"You're not going anywhere," Ryan answered with a grim determination, surprised that Seth would talk so freely about his own uncertain mortality.

"I meant when I go to the hospital," Seth corrected him, chuckling softly.

The laughter poured into Ryan's ears and he felt an inexplicable surge of affection for his foster brother. The kid was sick, confused, and exhausted, and still managed to make Ryan look stupid.

"What's going to change?" Ryan asked, pushing Seth's door open, thankful Seth had left it half-open.

"Stuff," Seth said, slurring the word slightly. "My mom and dad. Summer."

Ryan gently lowered Seth onto his bed. He pulled Seth's covers over his slender body.

"Thanks, man," he said quietly. "Sorry this is all so weird."

It felt both weird and not weird to Ryan, taking care of Seth, taking care of family.

"How..how are things going to change?" Ryan asked, shivering at how noticeably sick Seth looked in the dim lighting.

"Summer, she'll be kind of bitchy to others. Allow this to happen, as it's her one true release." Seth's voice cracked a little. "She'll shop a lot. Tag along every now and then, if you can stand it. Her mall commentary is top shelf stuff. Talk her out of going to any parties; she'll get wasted and do things we'll all regret." He winced. "Those rage blackouts are no joke."

"Mom...she drinks a lot when things are bad. You remember Thanksgiving. She's got too much pride to risk being seen getting hammered out in public, so she'll only do it around the house." Seth swallowed thickly. "When she drinks, Mom and Dad fight a lot. Things get ugly." His eyes shone a little. "It hasn't been bad in awhile, but...Just like, keep her occupied if you can. When things are at their worst, ice cream and a truly horrible chick flick seem to go a long way."

"O-okay." Ryan stuttered, thinking how open Seth could be when he was too tired to remember that he was supposed to be self-centered.

"Be really careful around Dad if he starts speaking rapid-fire Hebrew under his breath. That's when you'll know he's on the edge of a meltdown," Seth continued, his voice shaky. "Let him hug you and tell you he loves you, if you don't have a problem with that." Seth sighed, nuzzling his head deeper into his pillow. "He'll want to like, go through old photo albums and watch home movies. Try and keep him company so he doesn't go into some huge nostalgia spiral he'll never recover from. And keep up the joking. He likes that. You know it's bad when Dad stops even trying to be funny." Seth coughed. "No one's expecting Seth Cohen level humor out of you, but you've shown some promise lately in the banter department, Atwood."

Ryan snickered. "Got it," he said indulgently. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Seth said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. "There's this guy, Ryan, who carries the world around on his shoulders. He's got this hero complex going on, which is why I'm giving him the intel on the parental units and the girlfriend. None of this shit is actually his responsibility; I just know he's gonna try to fix it. But make sure you tell him to cut loose sometimes, okay? Don't blame himself for everything, like if Mom gets drunk or Dad has a breakdown or Summer murders a barista or I don't get any better and he can't do anything to stop it. Tell him to keep those grades up, play his soccer, and that there's no luck with pot." Seth yawned, smacking his lips lightly as it petered out. He let out a little groan. "And uh, tell him he's a good brother, huh?"

Ryan nodded, feeling his heart catch in his throat. "I'll uh, I'll do that."

"I knew you would," Seth said quietly. "Night, Ryan."

"Goodnight, Seth."

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Ryan burst into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him, his heart pounding in his chest.

He hadn't cried since he'd gotten the news of Seth's cancer, at least not really, and he hadn't cried when Seth came home from the hospital after his bone marrow aspirations, tired and forlorn.

He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd cried about anything.

But now he couldn't seem to stop himself.

An angry sob burst from his lips. He grabbed his math book from the desk and threw it against the wall with every ounce of strength in his body.

The damage was minimal.

The damage wasn't enough to soothe Ryan's rage.

Ryan leaned heavily on the door, his body sliding to the ground. He buried his head in his hands and cried.