fic: five things ryan atwood will never say to summer roberts.
title. five things ryan atwood will never say to summer roberts.
fandom. the oc.
pairing/character. ryan. summer. | ryan/summer. (seth/summer. ryan/marissa.)
spoilers/warnings. season three; not in chronological order.
disclaimer. not mine.
word count. 1239.
rating. g.
summary. five things ryan would never say to summer - he’s not good with words, you know.
notes. first oc fic and hopefully not the last. :) it’s probably not noticeable as to what he’d never say to summer, but hopefully you can ‘read between the lines’. this is what happens when I write the oc fic for three days straight, try to settle my love triangle and dig into summer’s brain - well, this is ryan’s :p. feedback is ♥.
one.
“So, you think I did well on my SATs? That really wasn’t a bad mark?” Summer asks, Seth sighs and seems to lose at his video game as some guy with a knife rips out his spine.
“Yeah, Summer,” Seth says a little aggravated, and he re-tries the level for the fourth time. Usually Summer’s his lucky charm - Seth’s feeling the heat and the irritation and obviously he’s been too stressed out to bother sleeping, the bags under his eyes are puffy proof of this.
“Oh,” Summer says, and she shifts back a little on the couch beside Ryan. There’s a small smile on her face. She tries to hide her pride; she’s finally accomplished something that people always thought she would never reach to succeed - she’s jumped to the highest shelf in the pantry or closet, whichever you prefer, and she’s grabbed the mysterious shoebox without even pulling a muscle.
She looks down and wrings her hands, and he really thinks she’s cute.
two.
“I so called it,” Summer says, eyes closed as she meditates on his bed. Her hair is in plats, just like the early days when he came back to Newport after Theresa, and the positive vibrations were Summer’s goal in life; a way to rid herself of the pain Seth Cohen had caused her. “I’m really sorry, Ryan,” she opens her eyes, traps him for a moment before she returns to meditating as the sound of Seth’s voice echoes through the pool house.
“Man, Ryan, this sucks,” he rubs his hands together and Ryan, standing by the window, tears his gaze away from a relaxed Summer. Johnny this, Johnny that - it’s really getting tiresome, a boring plotline used in an after-school special. “Maybe you should talk to her?”
“You should try to fix it,” Summer pipes up from the bed, he hears her shift on his sheets, “You and Marissa are perfect for each other.”
“Romeo and Juliet, man.”
“Cohen!” He hears something thud against Seth, an “ow” from his friend and a “that hurts”. He figures Summer’s thrown his pillow at Seth, it’s predicted, really - she’s gone this long without physically abusing him - and Seth’s kind of lacking in the bruises lately. Seth complains, Summer ignores and she speaks to Ryan softly, “You two need to work things out.”
“Maybe,” Ryan mumbles, eyes focused on the pool outside. He doesn’t know how to tell her that, maybe, he really doesn’t have the strength to hold onto Marissa Cooper anymore.
three.
“Save Marissa Cooper!” Summer yells in the halls, hand held high as she pushes her way, aggressively, through the throng of people he’d never be able to pinpoint who was Rhianna and who was Jon. “Ryan,” she says, voice firm and her forehead is creased with lines, “Where are your pamphlets?”
He looks at the posters, black with Marissa’s face printed on them, in her hands, “Don’t have any.”
“And why is that?”
“Didn’t take any,” he shrugs it off, and she kind of glares at him. Seth’s told him about her rage blackouts - “Could happen anytime, man. We’ve had so many warnings, you know; kind of like earthquakes. The weatherman says they’re gonna come - but they never come.” - and he takes a step back, not literally, of course, and he looks at the tiny girl in front of him, “I thought I’d go get them at lunch?”
“Of course you will,” Summer glares at him, she knows he never planned to do that and she’s going to bully him into it. This is his girlfriend they’re talking about, after all, the girl he left school because of - and Summer’s not happy, either, because without Marissa she’s stuck with him and Seth, and that’s like being stuck between a boulder and piece of grass.
She slaps a poster of Marissa on his neighbour’s locker and stomps away in her brown boots.
four.
Summer’s dad really isn’t creepy. Dr Roberts isn’t at all like Seth described; he’s more like Sandy, perhaps not as generous and fatherly like him, but he’s pretty decent for a man of Newport.
The petition for Marissa Cooper - now this is a blast. Summer’s done her homework and she’s mumbling to herself, a mantra of “she’s coming back, she’s coming back” and she’s pacing back and forth in front of the lockers.
“Man, what is taking Marissa so long?” Seth mumbles, hands in pockets and he’s finally stopped talking about Dr Roberts. To Ryan, the man doesn’t hate him - just possibly doesn’t understand him, like Ryan doesn’t understand the term ‘newpsie’. It’s a language barrier thing. No big deal. “Is it a little hot in here?”
“It’s cold,” Ryan offers, and Seth tugs at the collar of his shirt, makes a comment that he feels hot and he needs some water - feels like he’s going to pass out - but he doesn’t move from his spot, eyes on Summer and hand at his collar. “Everything will be fine, Summer,” he offers again, and she looks up for the first time, as if noticing that the hallway isn’t empty.
“Yeah, I know,” Summer grins, “I’m just so excited! There’s no way they’ll say no to Marissa coming back.” Seth offers her a smile, his lips pulled up in something insincere and Ryan’s scratching his neck. “Aren’t you excited, Atwood?”
He pushes a smile, wishes this wasn’t a lie as it sits at the bottom of his stomach, something swells and he’s pushing out air through his nose, “Yeah.”
five.
So, he’s going to be a fisherman.
Never really saw that one coming.
Summer, though, says she did, says something that her step-mother is somewhat psychic when she takes a certain dose of combined medication - something that she likes to call ‘home-made-passing-out-and-drool-forming-at-the-mouth’ and with a grin she says it’s a miracle worker - at a particular time with water. “She was saying some things, you know, deranged out of her mind. I had to drag her sorry ass up to bed and she kicked me, bruised my hip for a month. But she said that a boy, you, Atwood,” she looks at him, eyes sort of narrowed in intimidation, “that you’d do something stupid, ‘swim with the Nemos.’”
“I -”
“’Must keep swimming’, she said, and, Ryan, you’ve got to keep swimming,” she’s stepping forward, pokes her finger in his chest and punctuates, “Just keep swimming! Don’t give up. If you go on that boat, you’re giving up!”
“Sum -”
“Atwood,” she’s frustrated, eyes close as she says his name and he immediately stops thinking about talking. Talking is bad around Summer. Rage blackouts, remember? “Think, okay? Think! Stop being such a -” she bunches her hands into fists and she takes a couple of breaths, looks to the side and then she’s looking at him, eyes wide and she’s sad, her lips turned down at the edges and her posture is no longer stiff and straight. “We need you here, Atwood.”
She pouts, looks down at his feet and she kind of does something she’s never really done before - a first step into a physical relationship, he guesses - because she wraps her hands around his middle and hugs him, mumbles against his shirt, “I need you.”
And, he guesses, a couple of hours later, after he’s gathered his stuff from the boat and Marissa’s stomped away from him, furious and upset and in The Bait Shop, that maybe he needs her too.
fandom. the oc.
pairing/character. ryan. summer. | ryan/summer. (seth/summer. ryan/marissa.)
spoilers/warnings. season three; not in chronological order.
disclaimer. not mine.
word count. 1239.
rating. g.
summary. five things ryan would never say to summer - he’s not good with words, you know.
notes. first oc fic and hopefully not the last. :) it’s probably not noticeable as to what he’d never say to summer, but hopefully you can ‘read between the lines’. this is what happens when I write the oc fic for three days straight, try to settle my love triangle and dig into summer’s brain - well, this is ryan’s :p. feedback is ♥.
one.
“So, you think I did well on my SATs? That really wasn’t a bad mark?” Summer asks, Seth sighs and seems to lose at his video game as some guy with a knife rips out his spine.
“Yeah, Summer,” Seth says a little aggravated, and he re-tries the level for the fourth time. Usually Summer’s his lucky charm - Seth’s feeling the heat and the irritation and obviously he’s been too stressed out to bother sleeping, the bags under his eyes are puffy proof of this.
“Oh,” Summer says, and she shifts back a little on the couch beside Ryan. There’s a small smile on her face. She tries to hide her pride; she’s finally accomplished something that people always thought she would never reach to succeed - she’s jumped to the highest shelf in the pantry or closet, whichever you prefer, and she’s grabbed the mysterious shoebox without even pulling a muscle.
She looks down and wrings her hands, and he really thinks she’s cute.
two.
“I so called it,” Summer says, eyes closed as she meditates on his bed. Her hair is in plats, just like the early days when he came back to Newport after Theresa, and the positive vibrations were Summer’s goal in life; a way to rid herself of the pain Seth Cohen had caused her. “I’m really sorry, Ryan,” she opens her eyes, traps him for a moment before she returns to meditating as the sound of Seth’s voice echoes through the pool house.
“Man, Ryan, this sucks,” he rubs his hands together and Ryan, standing by the window, tears his gaze away from a relaxed Summer. Johnny this, Johnny that - it’s really getting tiresome, a boring plotline used in an after-school special. “Maybe you should talk to her?”
“You should try to fix it,” Summer pipes up from the bed, he hears her shift on his sheets, “You and Marissa are perfect for each other.”
“Romeo and Juliet, man.”
“Cohen!” He hears something thud against Seth, an “ow” from his friend and a “that hurts”. He figures Summer’s thrown his pillow at Seth, it’s predicted, really - she’s gone this long without physically abusing him - and Seth’s kind of lacking in the bruises lately. Seth complains, Summer ignores and she speaks to Ryan softly, “You two need to work things out.”
“Maybe,” Ryan mumbles, eyes focused on the pool outside. He doesn’t know how to tell her that, maybe, he really doesn’t have the strength to hold onto Marissa Cooper anymore.
three.
“Save Marissa Cooper!” Summer yells in the halls, hand held high as she pushes her way, aggressively, through the throng of people he’d never be able to pinpoint who was Rhianna and who was Jon. “Ryan,” she says, voice firm and her forehead is creased with lines, “Where are your pamphlets?”
He looks at the posters, black with Marissa’s face printed on them, in her hands, “Don’t have any.”
“And why is that?”
“Didn’t take any,” he shrugs it off, and she kind of glares at him. Seth’s told him about her rage blackouts - “Could happen anytime, man. We’ve had so many warnings, you know; kind of like earthquakes. The weatherman says they’re gonna come - but they never come.” - and he takes a step back, not literally, of course, and he looks at the tiny girl in front of him, “I thought I’d go get them at lunch?”
“Of course you will,” Summer glares at him, she knows he never planned to do that and she’s going to bully him into it. This is his girlfriend they’re talking about, after all, the girl he left school because of - and Summer’s not happy, either, because without Marissa she’s stuck with him and Seth, and that’s like being stuck between a boulder and piece of grass.
She slaps a poster of Marissa on his neighbour’s locker and stomps away in her brown boots.
four.
Summer’s dad really isn’t creepy. Dr Roberts isn’t at all like Seth described; he’s more like Sandy, perhaps not as generous and fatherly like him, but he’s pretty decent for a man of Newport.
The petition for Marissa Cooper - now this is a blast. Summer’s done her homework and she’s mumbling to herself, a mantra of “she’s coming back, she’s coming back” and she’s pacing back and forth in front of the lockers.
“Man, what is taking Marissa so long?” Seth mumbles, hands in pockets and he’s finally stopped talking about Dr Roberts. To Ryan, the man doesn’t hate him - just possibly doesn’t understand him, like Ryan doesn’t understand the term ‘newpsie’. It’s a language barrier thing. No big deal. “Is it a little hot in here?”
“It’s cold,” Ryan offers, and Seth tugs at the collar of his shirt, makes a comment that he feels hot and he needs some water - feels like he’s going to pass out - but he doesn’t move from his spot, eyes on Summer and hand at his collar. “Everything will be fine, Summer,” he offers again, and she looks up for the first time, as if noticing that the hallway isn’t empty.
“Yeah, I know,” Summer grins, “I’m just so excited! There’s no way they’ll say no to Marissa coming back.” Seth offers her a smile, his lips pulled up in something insincere and Ryan’s scratching his neck. “Aren’t you excited, Atwood?”
He pushes a smile, wishes this wasn’t a lie as it sits at the bottom of his stomach, something swells and he’s pushing out air through his nose, “Yeah.”
five.
So, he’s going to be a fisherman.
Never really saw that one coming.
Summer, though, says she did, says something that her step-mother is somewhat psychic when she takes a certain dose of combined medication - something that she likes to call ‘home-made-passing-out-and-drool-forming-at-the-mouth’ and with a grin she says it’s a miracle worker - at a particular time with water. “She was saying some things, you know, deranged out of her mind. I had to drag her sorry ass up to bed and she kicked me, bruised my hip for a month. But she said that a boy, you, Atwood,” she looks at him, eyes sort of narrowed in intimidation, “that you’d do something stupid, ‘swim with the Nemos.’”
“I -”
“’Must keep swimming’, she said, and, Ryan, you’ve got to keep swimming,” she’s stepping forward, pokes her finger in his chest and punctuates, “Just keep swimming! Don’t give up. If you go on that boat, you’re giving up!”
“Sum -”
“Atwood,” she’s frustrated, eyes close as she says his name and he immediately stops thinking about talking. Talking is bad around Summer. Rage blackouts, remember? “Think, okay? Think! Stop being such a -” she bunches her hands into fists and she takes a couple of breaths, looks to the side and then she’s looking at him, eyes wide and she’s sad, her lips turned down at the edges and her posture is no longer stiff and straight. “We need you here, Atwood.”
She pouts, looks down at his feet and she kind of does something she’s never really done before - a first step into a physical relationship, he guesses - because she wraps her hands around his middle and hugs him, mumbles against his shirt, “I need you.”
And, he guesses, a couple of hours later, after he’s gathered his stuff from the boat and Marissa’s stomped away from him, furious and upset and in The Bait Shop, that maybe he needs her too.