OC Fic : Twelve Things That Never Happened to Ryan Atwood, 10
Title : Twelve Things That Never Happened to Ryan Atwood
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Twelve things that never happened to Ryan. D'uh.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Huge thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this.
AN2. I usually like happy ending, but in this case, the story just didn't want to end on a happy note. Forewarned is forearmed; this doesn't end well (though no one dies) and I have no intention of fixing things in a sequel.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Square One
Helen C.
I.
One some level, Ryan spent three years expecting things with the Cohens to take a turn for the worst, bracing for it to happen. He knew from day one that eventually, it would end-the safe harbor in an otherwise messy life, the feelings of belonging, of security, of being loved, were always too good to be true.
As the good intentions and the enthusiasm of his first year in Newport made way for the slowly growing disappointment and drifting apart that followed, Ryan waited for something to happen-something that would definitely sever the bonds between him and the Cohens.
He always thought that it would be his fault, that one of his mistakes would cost him everything. Sooner or later, Sandy would grow tired of cleaning up his messes. Sooner or later, Kirsten would grow scared of him again, would decide it wasn't safe to keep him around.
Sooner or later, the Atwood in him would become too much for them to handle-like he had been too much for Dawn.
He was wrong about that, at least.
It's not Ryan who screws things up.
***
When it happens, it happens fast.
The family survives the intervention, Trey, Juvie again, Dean Hess, even Johnny. Every time, Ryan wonders whether or not this is it.
It never is.
Until one night, Ryan comes home to find Kirsten drunk on the couch, staring at the empty TV screen with a bottle in her hands.
He makes a noise-surprise? Disappointment?-and she turns to face him.
"Great," she sighs, going back to staring at the screen.
Ryan battles his instincts, the ones that are screaming at him to step out and leave her to deal with it.
He has learned early on never to bother a drunk adult.
But this is Kirsten, not Dawn.
This is Newport, not Chino.
He can speak up here and not end up injured, not end up beaten.
He takes a deep breath, then takes a chance.
He owes Kirsten, he owes all the Cohens, that much.
"Kirsten, maybe you should-"
"Maybe I should what?" she snaps.
He swallows nervously. "Maybe you should try to get some sleep." It ends up sounding more like a question than a suggestion.
She chuckles, and it's not her nice, easy-going, motherly chuckle. "Whatever."
He can stop here and now.
He can cut his losses, let Sandy find her drunk, let Sandy deal with it.
You don't have to be the parent anymore, Sandy told him a long time ago.
But this isn't about being a parent, it's about taking care of family.
This is Kirsten, and she and Sandy have done a lot for him, and he should at least try to help.
So, he walks over to her and tries to take the bottle away from her.
He doesn't expect her to slap him and he's surprised when she does-though really, surprised barely begins to cover it. It's more like his brain, like everything in him, freezes with shock.
He doesn't expect her to start yelling about how self righteous he is, about how he should mind his own damn business, about how he should keep his fucking place.
"Look, Dawn-" he starts. Her eyes widen and he closes his eyes, wishing he could take it back.
She slaps him again and he raises a hand to his cheek, ears ringing.
"I am not like your mother. I'm just…" She shakes her head. "Get the hell out of here," she says at last, her tone venomous.
"What?"
"You heard me!" she yells. "I can't deal with this from you right now, so go."
For a second, Dawn's voice superimposes on Kirsten. "I can't deal with this anymore. Just leave."
For a second, he's standing in front of Dawn again, being told he's not worth the trouble. "Kirsten-"
She raises a hand as if to hit him again and he takes a step back.
"Get out. I don't want to see you anymore."
He swallows again and nods.
Fifteen years trying to be a good son to Dawn.
Two and a half years trying to be a good son to Kirsten.
Funny how both his lives end the same way.
She follows him to the door and he can feel her eyes on him as he sidesteps the pool house and walks down the driveway.
He never turns back.
***
"Sandy, it's Ryan. Can you call me back, please?"
"Seth, it's me. Look, I kind of need... Fuck, can you just call me back?"
"Yeah, Marissa? It's me. Can you… Uh, never mind, I'll just…"
"Hey, Sandy, it's me again. Call me back, please?"
As he's leaving messages, he tries not to think about that other evening, years ago, where he found himself on another street corner, making other desperate phone calls.
The clothes he was wearing back then weren’t as nice.
He didn't own a cell phone then.
The feelings haven't changed much, though.
Fear, betrayal and disappointment still taste bitter in his mouth.
"Seth? Where are you? I really need to talk to you."
And this time, there's no nice lawyer around to give him his card.
***
Ryan waits all night on a bench for his phone to ring.
It never does.
When morning comes, he gets up and starts walking.
As he passes by a garbage bin, he throws his phone away.
The sun is starting to shine, but he's chilled to the bone.
***
He makes his way down south.
His probation is long over.
He's eighteen, so Social Services shouldn't bother looking for him. Neither should the police.
At least, he has options, ones he didn't have three years ago.
He doesn't need to hide, doesn't have to escape the authorities.
Good thing, because he's a lot more tired than he was three years ago-three years of pretending to be a good kid, three years working so hard to make a new life for himself.
In light of what happened, three wasted years.
***
Twenty hours after he found Kirsten on the couch, Ryan crosses the Mexican border, and disappears.
II.
Ten months go by before Ryan comes back to California.
He's more tanned, thinner, and his clothes are definitely not as nice as the ones he wore when he was living with the Cohens.
He barely earns enough to scrape by, but all in all, for a high school dropout, he's not doing too bad.
Trey called to tell him he'd learned that Marissa had died in a car accident. Ryan didn't go to the funeral, not wanting to see Julie (or the Cohens) again. But as weeks passed, he started feeling obligated to come and at least say goodbye.
He knows what's going to happen now that he's here.
He's ready for it.
***
"Ryan?"
He keeps staring at the headstone. "Hey, Sandy." His tone is level, giving nothing away.
"God, kid," Sandy whispers.
He turns to face the man, then. "How's everyone?" he asks.
Sandy swallows, looks down. "Fine. We're… all doing well. Kirsten… she never quite forgave herself."
Ryan nods, waits, not inclined to say anything more.
"Can we talk?" Sandy asks, hesitantly.
"Not here." Ryan looks down at the grave again. "What… Trey didn't tell me how it happened."
"She drank. Took the wheel. Crashed her car."
Ryan swallows and nods; that makes sense, in a twisted way.
Marissa always seemed to live on borrowed time; he can't say her demise is a huge surprise.
He's just sorry she had to die so young, sorry no one was around to save her.
***
"Kirsten is so very sorry for what happened," Sandy repeats as they take place in the diner-the place bringing back bittersweet memories of long discussions between Ryan and Seth, Summer and Marissa.
"Yeah?" Ryan looks around, trying to look indifferent, trying to feel indifferent.
"Of course, she does."
Ryan shrugs. Being sorry doesn't make a difference. He learned that much from Dawn.
"Ryan… I know she let you down. We all did. But can't you consider coming back?"
Ryan closes his eyes. It's so tempting sometimes to just come back and let the Cohens fuss over him, accept what little love they're ready to give him.
But then, he always remembers how it felt to be let down by people he trusted.
Again.
"Did you even try to give them a chance?" Trey asked him once, the first time Ryan called him to tell him what happened.
Ryan had to admit that no, he didn't.
He could have waited until Kirsten had sobered up, waited for Sandy to come home, waited for things to calm down.
What would have been the point?
What was the point of even trying so hard to make a better life for himself, only to find himself back at square one?
Three years of working his ass off in school, three years of swallowing the insults the Newpsies said when they thought he couldn't hear them, three years investing time and energy and love into a family, only to find himself back where it all started-alone.
He'll never have the strength to go through it again.
"I'm fine on my own," he says.
"You're part of the family," Sandy tries again.
Ryan doesn't doubt that the man is sincere.
That doesn't make things any better, or any easier.
Ryan isn't a Cohen, not even an adopted one.
He isn't the nice kid Sandy thought he was-the flower that managed to grow in a field of bad seeds.
He's a lot more like Trey and his mother than the Cohens would ever admit, and he was wrong to try and pretend otherwise.
He spent three years trying to become someone else, but he never really believed he would actually manage it.
"I won't go back with you," he says, his tone final.
"After all your hard work," Sandy tries to plead.
Ryan cuts him off. "Yeah, all my hard work. And what did it get me? Another drunk mother yelling at me. Other people who didn't have time for me and my problems. Another house to get thrown out of."
Sandy looks at him, tears in his eyes. "If you give us another chance-"
Ryan is already shaking his head, rising to his feet.
There have been too many other chances already.
He's done with other chances.
Sandy catches his wrist. "I made sure you'd graduate from Harbor," he rushes to say. "Your grades were more than enough and… please, at least don't let that go to waste. You could do a lot more with a high school diploma."
Ryan bites his lower lip, nods abruptly, and shakes himself free. "Thanks," he says. "For everything."
He steps out of the diner into the bright sun, squints his eyes and turns right.
He starts to walk.
***
He stays in touch with Trey over the years.
He sends a few cards to the Cohens, for Christmas, but never tells them where he is.
He never goes to see them again.
Some days, he isn't far from thinking that it's better this way.
end
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Twelve things that never happened to Ryan. D'uh.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Huge thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this.
AN2. I usually like happy ending, but in this case, the story just didn't want to end on a happy note. Forewarned is forearmed; this doesn't end well (though no one dies) and I have no intention of fixing things in a sequel.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Square One
Helen C.
I.
One some level, Ryan spent three years expecting things with the Cohens to take a turn for the worst, bracing for it to happen. He knew from day one that eventually, it would end-the safe harbor in an otherwise messy life, the feelings of belonging, of security, of being loved, were always too good to be true.
As the good intentions and the enthusiasm of his first year in Newport made way for the slowly growing disappointment and drifting apart that followed, Ryan waited for something to happen-something that would definitely sever the bonds between him and the Cohens.
He always thought that it would be his fault, that one of his mistakes would cost him everything. Sooner or later, Sandy would grow tired of cleaning up his messes. Sooner or later, Kirsten would grow scared of him again, would decide it wasn't safe to keep him around.
Sooner or later, the Atwood in him would become too much for them to handle-like he had been too much for Dawn.
He was wrong about that, at least.
It's not Ryan who screws things up.
***
When it happens, it happens fast.
The family survives the intervention, Trey, Juvie again, Dean Hess, even Johnny. Every time, Ryan wonders whether or not this is it.
It never is.
Until one night, Ryan comes home to find Kirsten drunk on the couch, staring at the empty TV screen with a bottle in her hands.
He makes a noise-surprise? Disappointment?-and she turns to face him.
"Great," she sighs, going back to staring at the screen.
Ryan battles his instincts, the ones that are screaming at him to step out and leave her to deal with it.
He has learned early on never to bother a drunk adult.
But this is Kirsten, not Dawn.
This is Newport, not Chino.
He can speak up here and not end up injured, not end up beaten.
He takes a deep breath, then takes a chance.
He owes Kirsten, he owes all the Cohens, that much.
"Kirsten, maybe you should-"
"Maybe I should what?" she snaps.
He swallows nervously. "Maybe you should try to get some sleep." It ends up sounding more like a question than a suggestion.
She chuckles, and it's not her nice, easy-going, motherly chuckle. "Whatever."
He can stop here and now.
He can cut his losses, let Sandy find her drunk, let Sandy deal with it.
You don't have to be the parent anymore, Sandy told him a long time ago.
But this isn't about being a parent, it's about taking care of family.
This is Kirsten, and she and Sandy have done a lot for him, and he should at least try to help.
So, he walks over to her and tries to take the bottle away from her.
He doesn't expect her to slap him and he's surprised when she does-though really, surprised barely begins to cover it. It's more like his brain, like everything in him, freezes with shock.
He doesn't expect her to start yelling about how self righteous he is, about how he should mind his own damn business, about how he should keep his fucking place.
"Look, Dawn-" he starts. Her eyes widen and he closes his eyes, wishing he could take it back.
She slaps him again and he raises a hand to his cheek, ears ringing.
"I am not like your mother. I'm just…" She shakes her head. "Get the hell out of here," she says at last, her tone venomous.
"What?"
"You heard me!" she yells. "I can't deal with this from you right now, so go."
For a second, Dawn's voice superimposes on Kirsten. "I can't deal with this anymore. Just leave."
For a second, he's standing in front of Dawn again, being told he's not worth the trouble. "Kirsten-"
She raises a hand as if to hit him again and he takes a step back.
"Get out. I don't want to see you anymore."
He swallows again and nods.
Fifteen years trying to be a good son to Dawn.
Two and a half years trying to be a good son to Kirsten.
Funny how both his lives end the same way.
She follows him to the door and he can feel her eyes on him as he sidesteps the pool house and walks down the driveway.
He never turns back.
***
"Sandy, it's Ryan. Can you call me back, please?"
"Seth, it's me. Look, I kind of need... Fuck, can you just call me back?"
"Yeah, Marissa? It's me. Can you… Uh, never mind, I'll just…"
"Hey, Sandy, it's me again. Call me back, please?"
As he's leaving messages, he tries not to think about that other evening, years ago, where he found himself on another street corner, making other desperate phone calls.
The clothes he was wearing back then weren’t as nice.
He didn't own a cell phone then.
The feelings haven't changed much, though.
Fear, betrayal and disappointment still taste bitter in his mouth.
"Seth? Where are you? I really need to talk to you."
And this time, there's no nice lawyer around to give him his card.
***
Ryan waits all night on a bench for his phone to ring.
It never does.
When morning comes, he gets up and starts walking.
As he passes by a garbage bin, he throws his phone away.
The sun is starting to shine, but he's chilled to the bone.
***
He makes his way down south.
His probation is long over.
He's eighteen, so Social Services shouldn't bother looking for him. Neither should the police.
At least, he has options, ones he didn't have three years ago.
He doesn't need to hide, doesn't have to escape the authorities.
Good thing, because he's a lot more tired than he was three years ago-three years of pretending to be a good kid, three years working so hard to make a new life for himself.
In light of what happened, three wasted years.
***
Twenty hours after he found Kirsten on the couch, Ryan crosses the Mexican border, and disappears.
II.
Ten months go by before Ryan comes back to California.
He's more tanned, thinner, and his clothes are definitely not as nice as the ones he wore when he was living with the Cohens.
He barely earns enough to scrape by, but all in all, for a high school dropout, he's not doing too bad.
Trey called to tell him he'd learned that Marissa had died in a car accident. Ryan didn't go to the funeral, not wanting to see Julie (or the Cohens) again. But as weeks passed, he started feeling obligated to come and at least say goodbye.
He knows what's going to happen now that he's here.
He's ready for it.
***
"Ryan?"
He keeps staring at the headstone. "Hey, Sandy." His tone is level, giving nothing away.
"God, kid," Sandy whispers.
He turns to face the man, then. "How's everyone?" he asks.
Sandy swallows, looks down. "Fine. We're… all doing well. Kirsten… she never quite forgave herself."
Ryan nods, waits, not inclined to say anything more.
"Can we talk?" Sandy asks, hesitantly.
"Not here." Ryan looks down at the grave again. "What… Trey didn't tell me how it happened."
"She drank. Took the wheel. Crashed her car."
Ryan swallows and nods; that makes sense, in a twisted way.
Marissa always seemed to live on borrowed time; he can't say her demise is a huge surprise.
He's just sorry she had to die so young, sorry no one was around to save her.
***
"Kirsten is so very sorry for what happened," Sandy repeats as they take place in the diner-the place bringing back bittersweet memories of long discussions between Ryan and Seth, Summer and Marissa.
"Yeah?" Ryan looks around, trying to look indifferent, trying to feel indifferent.
"Of course, she does."
Ryan shrugs. Being sorry doesn't make a difference. He learned that much from Dawn.
"Ryan… I know she let you down. We all did. But can't you consider coming back?"
Ryan closes his eyes. It's so tempting sometimes to just come back and let the Cohens fuss over him, accept what little love they're ready to give him.
But then, he always remembers how it felt to be let down by people he trusted.
Again.
"Did you even try to give them a chance?" Trey asked him once, the first time Ryan called him to tell him what happened.
Ryan had to admit that no, he didn't.
He could have waited until Kirsten had sobered up, waited for Sandy to come home, waited for things to calm down.
What would have been the point?
What was the point of even trying so hard to make a better life for himself, only to find himself back at square one?
Three years of working his ass off in school, three years of swallowing the insults the Newpsies said when they thought he couldn't hear them, three years investing time and energy and love into a family, only to find himself back where it all started-alone.
He'll never have the strength to go through it again.
"I'm fine on my own," he says.
"You're part of the family," Sandy tries again.
Ryan doesn't doubt that the man is sincere.
That doesn't make things any better, or any easier.
Ryan isn't a Cohen, not even an adopted one.
He isn't the nice kid Sandy thought he was-the flower that managed to grow in a field of bad seeds.
He's a lot more like Trey and his mother than the Cohens would ever admit, and he was wrong to try and pretend otherwise.
He spent three years trying to become someone else, but he never really believed he would actually manage it.
"I won't go back with you," he says, his tone final.
"After all your hard work," Sandy tries to plead.
Ryan cuts him off. "Yeah, all my hard work. And what did it get me? Another drunk mother yelling at me. Other people who didn't have time for me and my problems. Another house to get thrown out of."
Sandy looks at him, tears in his eyes. "If you give us another chance-"
Ryan is already shaking his head, rising to his feet.
There have been too many other chances already.
He's done with other chances.
Sandy catches his wrist. "I made sure you'd graduate from Harbor," he rushes to say. "Your grades were more than enough and… please, at least don't let that go to waste. You could do a lot more with a high school diploma."
Ryan bites his lower lip, nods abruptly, and shakes himself free. "Thanks," he says. "For everything."
He steps out of the diner into the bright sun, squints his eyes and turns right.
He starts to walk.
***
He stays in touch with Trey over the years.
He sends a few cards to the Cohens, for Christmas, but never tells them where he is.
He never goes to see them again.
Some days, he isn't far from thinking that it's better this way.
end