Kirsten's eyes fluttered open.
It took her a few moments to orient to where she was, and to remember why it was that she'd fallen asleep, semi-upright and on the couch.
Looking down at the throw pillow on her lap, she traced her fingers along the indentation in the fabric, her mouth forming a sad, tired smile.
When Sandy had first brought Ryan home, she never would've imagined that he'd feel like her son, and she certainly never would've imagined that he'd one day lay on the couch with his head resting on her lap, crying as she stroked his hair.
Kirsten yawned, hearing something sizzling from the direction of the kitchen.
She could picture Ryan, standing in front of the stove, jaw tight, spatula clenched in his fist as he eyed breakfast in the pan.
He wouldn't look at her when she walked in, hoping that she wouldn't acknowledge what had happened between them, hoping that she'd quietly accept the breakfast he'd made her, accept the apology for a thing he never should've needed to apologize for, being a kid who needed a mom.
When Ryan had come to live with them, he'd had his sharp edges. He'd always been unfailingly polite, always looking for ways to show his gratitude, but there'd also been something lurking right beneath the surface with him,noticeable if you knew what to look for, came to understand his tells, the subtle shifts in his body language. He could be set off.
Since Seth's diagnosis though, those edges had dulled, and Ryan had leaned into the other part of him: the dutiful son, the one who identified ways to help before being asked, the one who went to school and did his homework and played on the soccer team and visited Seth in the hospital and spent nights comforting Summer on the phone, doing everything in that quiet and composed way of his.
It had been easy to imagine that he was holding up okay, that he didn't need more from her or from Sandy, as if Kirsten hadn't been well-aware that Ryan had the ability to push his feelings and needs down until they were barely perceptible to even himself, to tuck them away where no one could see them.
As if Kirsten didn't know exactly what that was like, as if she didn't know exactly what Ryan wanted in that moment because she would've been the same way, wanting desperately for everyone to ignore her emotional outburst, wanting desperately for everyone to carry on as if nothing had happened.
Things were easier that way.
While her life had been nothing like Ryan's, Kirsten knew what it was like to play the dutiful child. That had been her life until Sandy. She did as she was told, she got good grades, she interned at The Newport Group every summer, she charmed her parents' friends at parties,she fit in everywhere she went by being exactly what the occasion and the circumstances and the people most in need of impressing called for.
Maybe that was why Seth had scared and confused her in equal measure for so much of his life, born as he seemed to be without that instinct or that drive to mold himself to the moment or to what anyone else wanted him to be. She wondered what that felt like, to be your actual self at sixteen, to seem to know who that was, for better or worse.
It used to frustrate her, especially when Seth was younger. It felt something like defiance somehow, this refusal to construct any protection around himself, so that Kirsten had to watch him get hurt over and over again. But over time, she started to wonder if he was better off that way, if there wouldn't be so much of himself that he'd have to dismantle one day, the way it felt like she had to take herself apart and figure out who she actually was when she met Sandy and started to live a very different kind of life and finally felt safe to come out of hiding.
She wondered sometimes who Ryan would become if he ever felt truly safe like that.
She wondered just as often what he was protecting in himself by playing the dutiful child.
Because there was the other side to the life she'd lived so successfully in her parents' house. There were the cracks in the facade, the dark underbelly of being so perfectly controlled and so perfectly dutiful, the drive to party and to numb herself, to relieve the pressure from those other perfectly controlled hours of her life.
She should've seen it with Ryan, that his seeming resilience, his remarkable ability to cope and manage and do the right thing, be the best friend and brother to Seth, be the listening ear for Summer, was hiding something else, that he was still boiling over, that the pressure was building inside of him with nowhere to go.
ooo
"Good morning, Ryan."
Ryan was grateful for the pan of bacon and eggs, for something to look at as Kirsten made her way into the kitchen.
"Morning," he said, unable to help the way the word came out in a wary mumble, breath hitching in his chest.
He continued to stare at the bacon and eggs, tracking the grease bubbles as they appeared and disappeared, rippling across the pan. His shoulders tensed as Kirsten started to brush past him on her way to the coffee pot.
There was no good reason to, but he nudged at the bacon with his spatula, darting a glance at Kirsten's back as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
Kirsten turned and caught his eye before he could look away. She gave him a smile as she leaned back against the counter.
"You know Ryan, you didn't need to make breakfast." Her voice was soft and knowing, her eye contact gently pointed.
Ryan looked back down at the pan, swallowing around something tight in his throat. He nudged at the bacon again, his mouth starting to twitch into a little smile.
"Why, were you about to?" He made his eyes wide, his face the picture of innocence.
Kirsten burst out into a surprised little laugh. "Seth has been a terrible influence on you, hasn't he?"
Ryan shrugged,grinning down at the bacon and eggs, feeling himself relax a little. "And here you probably thought it'd be the other way around, huh?"
ooo
Sandy stood up when Kirsten and Ryan entered the waiting room.
"What are you doing out here?" Kirsten gave Sandy a quick hug and kiss.
"I just got done meeting with the doctor. I was uh, taking a minute before I went back in." Sandy clapped Ryan on the shoulder and smiled at the younger boy.
"You had a meeting with the doctor?" Ryan glanced between Sandy and Kirsten.
Sandy's brow furrowed, feeling tension behind Ryan's question, feeling like they'd somehow gotten into tricky territory without him realizing it.
"I asked Sandy to do the meeting without me so I could sleep in," Kirsten explained.
Ryan nodded, eyes downcast, looking wary.
Kirsten flashed her eyes at Sandy in a way that clearly communicated I'll tell you later.
It was handy sometimes, having been together so long, and it was a relief that they were friends again, that something had eased between them the night before.
Medical emergencies could do that, Sandy supposed. He vaguely recalled Seth's appendix bursting helping them resolve some kind of conflict they'd been having at the time.
"Divide and conquer, that's the Cohen way," Sandy said brightly, squeezing Ryan's shoulder.
"Ryan, why don't you go ahead in and keep Seth company while I talk to Sandy for a few minutes?" Kirsten handed Ryan a bulging tote bag, no doubt filled with new books and CDs that Kirsten had picked out for Seth.
"Okay." Ryan started to head towards Seth's room.
"Wait, Ryan-" Sandy's breath caught in his throat as Ryan looked back at him quizzically, as he felt the events of the evening and then the morning come rushing back at him in a wave of exhaustion.
He felt Kirsten's hand fumble and find his own, and he smiled a little at that.
It really was good that they were friends again.
"I-I just wanted to give you a heads-up," Sandy said. "Seth's onoxygen right now."
"Oxygen?" Kirsten's hand tightened its grip on his.
"He's okay-I mean, it's a thing they have to do sometimes, but they said it's not so bad, it'll probably be okay," Sandy felt himself stumble over his words, aware he wasn't making very much sense. "I just...I didn't want you to be surprised when you went in there," he explained to Ryan. "He's got the mask on right now, but they said they can probably switch him to the nose tubes after awhile, if things seem to be going okay." He blinked heavily, feeling a little heat behind his eyes and hoping he didn't look as much like a mess as he felt.
"Dad...Dad?"
Sandy hadbeen woken from a dead sleep by Seth, calling for him as best he could between choked gasps for air, his eyes wide and panicked when Sandy bolted up from the couch and rushed to his bedside.
At first Sandy had thought it was just a panic attack, but then the coughing had started, and if Sandy had thought it was hard to hear that his son had been coughing up blood, witnessing it and trying to comfort him through it, to remain calm through his own rising panic, was a whole other nightmare.
He'd held Seth's hand and talked him through it as best he could, his words of encouragement feeling feeble and inadequate as the doctors gave him meds to stop the bleeding and performed some kind of test where they inserted a thin tube into his mouth and down his throat, Sandy having to avert his eyes as it went in, and then they set up on oxygen.
After his initial panic, it felt like Seth slipped out of the room, was a million miles away the whole time, his body limp and his eyes dull and vacant as they put him through everything, and Sandy thought that that was probably a good thing if he'd found a way to not really have to be there for everything.
But then they'd fastened the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, and Sandy saw something else in his eyes, anguish and resignation and something else he couldn't name, and Sandy wondered but was too afraid to ask if it was triggering some of Seth's claustrophobia, breathing out into that little plastic mask.
The recurrence of the bleeding had at least seemed to clarify things, because after the tests, the doctor had pulled Sandy into the nearby conference room and let him know that Seth had a pulmonary hemorrhage, that although it was terrifying-sounding and terrifying-looking, Seth's was in the moderate and manageable territory, and he outlined treatments, discussing more frequent monitoring of his vitals, as well as chest x-rays, blood tests, and the possibility of blood transfusions.
Sandy had let it all wash over him numbly, having learned to take whatever small comfort he could from the doctors at least seeming to know what was going on and having some idea of what to do about it, harkening back as it did to the days of Seth's burst appendix, of one thing being wrong and one way that it was quickly dealt with.
Kirsten's hand squeezed Sandy's, bringing him back to the present, to Ryan still standing there, like he was waiting for express permission to move.
"And uh, he's not supposed to be taking the mask off right now, but if I know my son, he's not going to be able to resist talking to you, so uh..." Sandy forced a strained smile. "Permission to kick his ass if he doesn't keep it on, huh?"
"Don't say ass, Sandy." Ryan managed a strained smile of his own before turning and walking away.
ooo
Seth pointed to a thin stack of graphic novels on his bedside, using his other hand to fiddle with the oxygen mask secured over his face.
Ryan flipped through the top volume on the stack, noting the liquid-stained pages curling at the edges, a few of the pages also looking like they'd been dog-eared. He held it up to Seth, eyebrows raised.
Seth's face scrunched into a look of disgust, and he lowered the oxygen mask.
"Lucas," he explained bitterly. "One of the kids here. He said he wanted to get into comic books." He reaffixed the mask, rolling his eyes as he did so.
"It looks like you've let him borrow a few." Ryan looked through the other volumes in the stack,noting varying levels of dishevelment. "Gotta say I'm surprised he hasn't been shut out of the collection yet."
Seth groaned, the sound muddled through the mask. He lowered the mask again.
"Youtry saying no to a Cancer Kid, with their big moon heads and their sunken little horror movie kid eyes." He paused,frowning, mask poised in front of his face. "Wait, I don't look like that, do I, Ryan?"
"Of course not," Ryan said. "On you, it looks good."
"That's what I thought," Seth said with a little grin. He started to position the mask back over his face, then paused, shooting Ryan a Who am I kidding? look before letting it rest under his chin.
"I'm pretty sure your dad said you're supposed to keep that on," Ryan pointed out, eyeing the door.
"I barely need this anymore," Seth claimed.
"So I should just ignore that you're breathing and talking like you're running laps right now?"
"Yes, Ryan, yes. I would like you to ignore that." Seth took a few breaths into the mask before lowering it again. "It's a vast improvement over this morning, seriously." He paused, seeing that Ryan was still hesitant.
Ryan really didn't look to go against the parental units when they gave an order, and Seth was sure they all used that to their advantage against him.
"Are you gonna narc on me, Ryan?" Seth paused. "Look, I'll hold it up to my face and use it while you're talking, okay?"
"Okay," Ryan said, seeming satisfied with the negotiations. He held up the bedraggled comic. "And I take it you'll remember this moment the next time you think I scuffed one of your covers?"
Seth scoffed into his mask before lowering it. "You want the Cancer Kid treatment, there's only one way to earn it, and I do not recommend it."
"How old is this kid anyway?" Ryan squinted down at some decidedly violent imagery. "This stuff seems a little dark."
"Hey, once you've gone through the horrors of childhood cancer, the zombies and Hitler of it all barely register." Seth waved a hand. "He'll already have enough nightmares to last a lifetime."
"Well, uh, thanks for this," Ryan said, gesturing with the comic. "We can talk about it tomorrow. Hopefully without the Darth Vader get-up."
"Nice Star Wars reference there, Atwood." Seth yawned, and Ryan noticed his eyelids starting to droop. "Hospital Seth-Ryan time isn't quite the same, is it?" he asked bitterly.
"Nah, it's better," Ryan said. "I think I saw a few of the nurses checking me out."
Seth made a rude noise into his mask before lowering it again. "Sorry dude, they were definitely looking at me, Cancer Kid or no. They got a look at the whole package the other night and now they can't stay away."
"Oh yeah?" Ryan laughed.
"Oh yeah." Seth gave a little nod. "They were all ready for a menage-a-" -his face screwed up in concentration-"however many of them there were. To be honest, I lost count, perhaps on account ofthe whole fountain of blood thing I was going."
"Bet that got 'em hot too."
"You know it." Seth yawned again, blinking long stuttering blinks as it tapered off. He pulled back the elastic bands on the oxygen mask and pulled it over his head, adjusting the mask and his knit cap until they were presumably as comfortably situated as was possible, probably knowing as well as Ryan did the signs that he was about to be passed out and snoring in a few minutes tops.
Ryan grabbed the stack of Preachers from the nightstand and settled back into his chair.
ooo
"Hey kid."
Ryan looked up and accepted the white paper cup of coffee that Sandy held out to him.
"Thanks," he said, as Sandy settled into the chair next to him.
Sandy jutted his chin at the sleeping Seth.
"He keep that mask on the whole time?" he asked.
Ryan gave him a look.
"You're a good brother," Sandy said, a hint of a chuckle in his voice as he patted Ryan's knee.
Ryan gave him a thin smile, never quite sure what to say to that sentiment.
"Kirsten told me what happened," Sandy said, "but it didn't take her to tell me that you've got a lot going on right now, and I'm sorry that wehaven't been so available for you."
"I'm okay, Sandy, really." Ryan stared down at the comic in his hands, feeling a stab of guilt. "You guys need to be worrying about Seth right now-"
"Oh don't worry, we've got that covered, worrying about Seth." Sandy's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Turns out though, you become a parent, and you really learn how to multitask. I can worry about Seth while doing all kinds of things." He paused. "I can worry about you too, kid."
"I'm really okay."
"You know, the thing about having a sick kid..." Sandy started, then broke off, wincing just slightly, like he thought he could say 'sick kid' easily and with his whole chest,like he was used to it by now, but realized too late that it still drove something sharp through his side. He cleared his throat. "The thing with having a sick kid is that you get all these neat, straightforward ways you get to take care of him. It's a little harder with what Seth's got going on right now, but you know, you clean up some vomit, you hand out the Tylenol, you put on their favorite movies-for Seth it'll forever beMrs. Doubtfire,but when things are really dire, and don't tell him I told you,101 Dalmatians, and you reassure them that they're going to feel better soon."
Ryan smiledweakly, unsure of where Sandy was going with all that.
"And that's nice in its own way, as a parent, when everything is clear, when you know exactly what to do." Sandy sighed. "Too many times things just aren't like is though, it can get a little dull." He gave Ryan an appraising look. "You might think you're looking out for me, keeping the things you've got going on to yourself, but I'm over here dying for some variety in my parental duties right now, to maybe get to exercise a different skill set every now and then." He smiled. "You get me?"
"I'm just...not sure I know how to talk about any of this," Ryan admitted. "Even if I wanted to. I don't really know what to say."
He didn't know what to say about Seth or his mom or the future or what it felt like to live in the Cohen house without Seth or anything else.
"That's okay. You don't have to know how, but I'm here if you ever want to give it a try, okay?"
"Okay." Ryan forced another tight smile.
"And kid..." Sandy rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not going to wait for you to come to me, okay? I hate to break it to you, but expect more check-ins like this, ya got me?"
"Okay."
Sandy started to stand up, but paused halfway up, leaning forward and kissing the top of Ryan's head.
"I love you, kid," he said. "And before you say thank you, know that an unfortunate part of that deal for you is that I'll never leave you alone and you'll never be rid of me, no matter how hard you try." He patted Ryan's shoulder. "Just ask Seth on that one."
He headed for the door, slipping out before Ryan could even think of how to respond to any of that.
ooo
"Ryan? Hey, Ryan?"
Ryan felt someone nudged his shoulder and he opened his eyes to find Sandy's face hovering in front of him, smiling sympathetically.
"Hey, sorry to wake you, but-"
"They're kickin' me out soon?" Ryan finished for him.
"You know the drill."
"I'm just gonna pack up." Ryan looked over at Seth, whose eyes were closed. "Tell him I said goodnight?"
There was a garbled bit of speech through plastic from the direction of Seth's bed, sounding something like: "Tell him yourself, huh?" spoken through an oxygen of Seth's eyelids popped open.
"I'll leave you guys to it," Sandy said, smiling at them both before leaving the room.
There were a few moments of quiet as Ryan started to pack up his books and the stack of Preachers that Seth had given him.
He'd made something of a dent in both the stack and his required reading for English Lit in between Seth napping and him apparently falling asleep himself at some point.
"Hey Ryan, you okay?"
Ryan looked up at Seth, brow wrinkling.
"You're asking me?"
"You mean because of the cancer thing or..."
Ryan gave him a look.
"You just seem a little grim lately," Seth said, resting his oxygen mask under his chin, practically daringRyan to give him a hard time about it again.
"You shouldn't worry about me," Ryan said, shoving another book into his bag.
"C'mon, Ryan, I've got nothing to do all day," Seth complained. "Worrying about you is like, my only hobby here. It's like the celebrity gossip of my world right now."
Ryan wondered if it would be cruel to take that opportunity to point out that Sandy and Seth were like, exactly the same person sometimes.
"I just...I figured it might be weird at home," Seth continued. "I know you like having a buffer with the parental units sometimes."
Ryan frowned, certain he'd never said as much, but he guessed it must've been a little obvious how awkward he felt with Sandy and Kirsten sometimes.
He wondered if one of them had told Seth about last night. He'd be mad if it weren't so predictable.
The Cohens didn't really do the whole privacy thing when they were worried about you.
"Is it going okay?" Seth asked.
"Why wouldn't it be?" Ryan asked with a shrug. "We're barely even all home at the same time anyway."
Seth nodded, looking down as he held the mask over his mouth for a few breaths.
Ryan zipped up his backpack.
"I read this thing once about people who convert to Judaism," Seth said.
Ryan looked at him, eyebrows raised, half-wishing for a nurse to come in and rescue him by kicking him out, and half-interested to hear where Seth was going with that.
"It said that converts aren't really converts; they're just lost members of The Tribe, and the whole process of converting is your soul finding its way home." Seth paused to take a hit of oxygen. "Like, it's not like you're one thing and then you become another thing. You were always that thing; it just took some time to figure that out and find your way home or whatever."
"Okay?" Ryan blinked at him.
"You were always one of us, Ryan." Seth looked at Ryan solemnly. "It just took us a while to find each other."
Ryan looked away, toying with the zipper on his backpack. He glanced back up at Seth, swallowing thickly.
"So what, I'm a part of your tribe or something?" He asked, snickering, inwardly bristling at himself and the way he was treating Seth like he'd often seen people treat Seth, acting like he was some big weirdo dork saying things that were stupid or made no sense.
"If you'll have us," Seth said, gaze steady, not seeming remotely fazed by Ryan's response to him. "Not the other way around, you know what I mean?"
Ryan nodded, looking down at his backpack, trying to blink away an annoyingprickle behind his eyes.
"Good. I'm glad we understand each other," Seth said.
Ryan slung his backpack over his shoulders. He looked up at Seth.
"So 101 Dalmatians, huh?" Ryan smirked
Seth's eyes narrowed, all solemn gravitas fleeing the scene immediately.
"Who told you that?"
"No one had to tell me," Ryan said. "You just really look like a guy who'd get really into a movie about cartoon dogs falling in love."
"Which one was it?" Seth demanded.
"I believe the phrase 'wore out the VHS tape' was uttered," Ryan said, having gathered more intel from both Sandy and Kirsten during one of Seth's naps.
"I'll kill him," Seth muttered, shaking his head. "And look, it was never about the cartoon dogs and their love story, okay?"
"Oh yeah?" Ryan looked skeptical.
"What really resonated with me was the cautionary tale about the tragic epidemic of animal hoarding," Seth claimed.
Ryan laughed.
"So how old were you the last time you watched it? Your dad guessed fourteen, but your mom thought it was maybe just a few months before I moved in." Ryan paused. "Something about being home with the flu, and only the puppies would bring you comfort?"
"Is that what they said?" Seth asked. "If that's what they said, they're greatly exaggerating." There was a smile tugging at the corner of Seth's mouth. "And can you believe this-my own parents having just no interest in helping me maintain my reputation for rugged masculinity."
There was a knock on the door, and a nurse poked her head in, apologetically letting Ryan know that it was time to hit the bricks.
"Night, man," Ryan said, knocking his fist against Seth's.
"Night, Ryan," Seth said. "And Ryan?
"Yeah?"
"I had Theresa send me those Snoopy pictures." Seth pointed a threatening finger at him. "You breathe a word of the puppies to Summer, and it's mutually assured destruction for you, my friend."
"I gotcha, buddy," Ryan said, mouth falling into an easy smile. "Your secret's safe with me."