Four in the morning (Ryan) Rated T
Title: Four in the morning
Author: Aleesha
Character / Pairing: Ryan, Trey, Mentions of Dawn and Aj.
Rating: T (Trey swears a little)
Chapter: 1/1
Word Count: 945
Disclaimer: I don't own the O.C.
Spoilers: '1x01 The Pilot.'
Summary: The events that occur prior to the pilot, which culminate in the stealing of that car.
Author's Notes: Written for http://community.livejournal.com/ocficchallenge.
The prompt was
Stay up till four in the morning & the tears are pouring
& I want to make it worth the fight
What have we been doing for all this time?
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Stay up till four in the morning
Trey still isn’t home.
You know she’s worried too.You can hear it in how the floorboards creak, as if the weight of the world is crushing down on her shoulders while she paces the hall outside your bedroom door.
It’s been an hour since the police left.
Two hours since the gunshot.
Two hours since the broken glass, slammed doors, running feet and garbled phone calls.
And two hours since you’ve seen your brother.
You wonder if you’ll ever see him again.
The rain pounds against your window, as you rest a cheek against the cool glass.Your tears are warm and salty, unlike the rain.
But, like the rain, they’re heavy.They hold the very real possibility
‘Your brother’s gone, Your brother’s gone.And he isn’t coming back.’
And the tears are pouring
She’s still crying.You know it, and Trey damn well knows it.
And, no, you can’t hear her sobs, but it doesn’t make it any less real.Because, if you know anything, you know facades.
Hell, you’ve been living one your entire life.And frankly? You’re more than a little over it.
You glance quickly over at your brother.His face is purple where Aj’s fist connected with flesh and bone.
The cheek is cut, the wound barely healing, even now, in the absence of rain.He’s propped up against the wall, knee’s drawn towards his chest, the heel of one hand smacking one knee, as his other clenches and unclenches by his side.
‘We’re leaving Ry, you and me, just like we always said we would.’You know it will break her.
You know ‘You’re the good one, Ryan-honey.’But your brother’s face is a palette of colours and feelings.
And you just can’t seem to focus on anything other than that.‘Okay Trey, we’ll leave, but not tonight.’ You say, voice thick from hours of choking back silent sobs lack of use.
‘Tomorrow?’ It’s not a question, it’s not even a statement.
It’s a plea.
And you nod your head in agreement.‘Tomorrow.’
And I want to make it worth the fight
You hate Aj.
You hate tears and fights and blood.
You hate water stains and moth eaten blankets and empty cupboards.You hate the hidden alcohol, brought with much-needed money.
And, if you look closely enough, you hate yourself.
But most of all, you hate Aj, you hate how he is breaking up your family.And it wasn’t even that whole to begin with.
You hate Aj, but you really don’t.You hate guys like him.
You hate how he isn’t just a person; he’s a state of mind.And your Mum seems to be in a never ending cycle of guys, just like him.
Pick-up, Break-up, Make-up.Rinse, and repeat.
It never ends.
What have we been doing for all this time?
‘What are you doing Trey?’
‘Getting out, Ry, that’s what we’re doin.’
‘I know that; I mean, why aren’t we taking any stuff?’
‘We’ll go back and get it later, come on.’
‘Where are we even going to go?
‘I dunno, get out, go somewhere, the coast maybe.’
‘How are we goin to get there, huh?’
‘Steal a car, hitch-hike, walk, I dunno Ryan, we’ll get there somehow.’
You scuff your feet against the broken concrete of the street you’re walking on, And pretend to brood.You think that, if something as strong as concrete still breaks, then there’s no hope for the rest of you.
You read somewhere once; Concrete cracks because of tensional forces that develop within the slab as it sets.You think that, maybe, that means it snaps under too much tension, just like Aj does, or your Mum does, or Trey does.
Well, hell, if anyone knows anything about internal tension, it’s you.You think that, maybe, this is a sign, that the broken sidewalk is a message.
That if something as strong as concrete breaks under tension, there’s no way your family will last.You know You don’t know why.
Trey twirls the crowbar around in his hands.‘What’s that for?’ You ask.
He shrugs, and continues to walk, his skin yellowing under the street lights.It makes his bruise seem to almost fade, and for a second you imagine a life without Abusive lovers, and Distant mothers and Messed-up brothers.
You imagine a life where you and Trey are happy.And you like it.
You see the brown car before he does.He’s still staring at the word, ‘Chino’, graffitited on the side of the abandoned building, when it comes into view.
His whisper is so quiet that you almost don’t hear it.But you do.
‘I’ll get you out of here Ry.’But then he notices the car too, and everything goes to hell.
He’s saying ‘I’m your big brother, if I don’t teach you this, who will?’And the crowbar is swinging, and the glass is shattering, and your family’s breaking.
And you’re thinking, I can’t do this, I can’t just leave.‘I don’t know, Trey.’
And Trey’s shouting, ‘Quit being a little bitch, and get in.’And glass is breaking right under your feet, and your family’s breaking right under your nose, but you’re running to the passenger door anyway.
You need Trey Trey needs you.
You pause at the door.‘…Get in.’
Police cars and broken promises are swirling through your mind in a symphony of blue lights and blonde hair.‘…Come on, let’s go Ryan.’
The squad car is coming, but your brother is going, and your mind is screaming, ‘pick one, Ryan, pick one.’He’s your brother
And you really, really, hope he's also the right choice.