Seldom Second Chances (9b/13)
Title: Seldom Second Chances
Author: Clay
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: When a freak accident drops an impossible opportunity in Ryan's lap, it's up to him to decide whether to squander it, or to change his fate by going after the one thing he's always wanted.
Word Count: ~1600
Prompt & Author's Notes: End of chapter 9. Much smaller. I'm sorry for not posting before going to bed last night. I meant to, but I guess I fell asleep before I could. :P Again, for the Thon Prompt 33: Strangled by the red string. As always, betaed by asuka14.
Chapter 9b
Back at the cabin, Ryan took it upon himself to clean and gut the fish at their cabin's picnic table while Colin stowed the gear. The freshly sharpened blade of his swiss army knife slid cleanly through the belly of the first trout. Ryan assumed there was a filleting knife or some such in the kitchen, but for some reason using it would have felt like cheating. A swiss army knife had a number of uses, whereas a filleting knife had just one, and it was the former that came along on his childhood family fishing trips for just that reason. It wasn’t ideal, but experience gave him a deft hand, and besides, doing it the way his father had taught him turned what was an otherwise unappealing task into a nostalgic jaunt.
He felt Colin’s eyes on him as he finished gutting the fish, then moved to scaling and finally filleting them. He was sure that Colin was appalled at Ryan’s choice of equipment, but he didn’t speak-just watched.
Ryan, meanwhile, didn't really need to think as he made quick work of all three fish. His hands moved through rote memory, his mind wandering to days long past and memories of those family fishing trips and his time in the plant.
“Done,” he said, laying the last perfectly cut filet on a plate with the others.
Colin gave an approving nod. “I’m impressed,” he said. He scooted the plate over to the other side of the table and gave Ryan a cheeky smile. “And now it’s my turn to impress you.”
Ryan was a passable cook, but Colin was brilliant in the kitchen. He didn’t have the training to technically be called a chef, but that’s how Ryan thought of him anyway, and he felt a rush of pride for his friend as he watched Colin turn the weather-worn picnic table into a work station. While Ryan had been making sure they had everything they needed for camp, Colin had been more interested in making sure they had the right staples to accompany a fish dinner-or to be dinner had they neglected to catch any fish. In addition to the pasta they’d had for lunch, Colin had purchased a number of canned and fresh vegetables, herbs, rice, two thick steaks, and a few other odds and ends. Ryan’s ideal vacation didn’t include cooking, but it definitely included tasting one of Colin’s delicious creations.
He sat back and lit a cigarette, watching as Colin cleaned and fired up the grill. The fish would be going straight on the grate, but first Colin set a small skillet down, where he made a quick and absolutely divine smelling sauce with butter, lemon, capers, and fresh herbs. He used half of this on the fish, then returned the skillet to the grill, where he added in large white beans and spinach.
By the time the fish was going on the grill, Ryan’s mouth was watering.
He pushed himself up from his seat, shaking his head as he stubbed out his cigarette.
“I have to get out of here before I eat my own arm off.”
Colin laughed. “It’ll be done in two minutes.”
The fire popped and cracked as oil from the fish skin dripped onto the hot coals. In that moment, Ryan could think of nothing more delicious than a fatty, crispy bit of trout skin. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “That’s two minutes two long.”
Colin rolled his eyes, turning to give Ryan a smirk over his shoulder. “Well why don’t you grab the wine and a couple of glasses? It should be done by the time you get back.
“And don’t you go in there and start eating everything,” he continued, brandishing a spatula at Ryan as he started toward the cabin. “You’ll ruin your appetite.”
“Yes, mom,” Ryan quipped. He jogged up the stairs, chuckling softly, and disappeared inside, where Colin had a dry Reisling chilling in the refrigerator.
He popped the cork, grabbed two glasses, and was just heading back out when something caught his eye.
He’d left the iPhone in his overnight bag while they’d gone fishing for fear of dropping it in the lake. It was the first time he’d been away from it since heading back to 2001, and surprisingly, he'd hardly missed it. He’d gotten so caught up in living in the moment that he hadn’t been thinking about the future.
Now, however, as he crossed past his and Colin's bags, the darkened screen caught the overhead light, and it flashed, drawing Ryan’s attention. He paused, bottle and glasses in hand, to look down at it. He was sure he'd left it in the bag, not on it for fear of Colin seeing it and questioning him again, but then, he'd been so tired that afternoon that he'd probably forgotten. Luckily, Colin hadn't mentioned it, and now he had the chance to stow it away before it was noticed.
But something else occurred to him as he looked down at the phone. He hadn’t checked the videos since that morning. Then, there had been nothing there; his future had been in flux. Could things have changed?
A glance out the window told him that Colin was just starting to plate the fish. Ryan looked down at the phone again, feeling one more moment of indecision before he gave in. He hurriedly put the glass wear down on the counter, then grabbed the phone, turned it on, and headed straight to the video screen. For a moment he was simply pleased at the ease with which he was now able to navigate the phone's menus, barely noting the buttons he pushed as he quickly made his way to the desired screen, but that was immediately forgotten the moment he got there.
It was back.
There, sitting atop the list was a file from April 2013.
Ryan took one last quick glance out the window to make sure Colin was still occupied, then hesitated. Colin looked so happy, playing the domestic role as he set the picnic table. Was there really any reason to check what the future currently held? He could just as easily head back outside, continue on with their evening, and be perfectly happy.
But the idea of not checking struck a chord of fear in him, and, taking a deep, steadying breath, Ryan looked back at the phone and selected the video.
The spinning color wheel came up as the video loaded, and Ryan moved back to take a seat on the futon. The memory of his arrest was almost non existent, so he was fairly positive that he wouldn't find the news clip when the video finally started to play. It was a mild reassurance, but he still felt apprehensive. His memory of the original game of Party Quirks had also nearly faded from his mind, so he had no idea what to expect.
Finally the video started, and Ryan leaned in close to the screen as he tried to make out what was going on. He had been correct in his assumption, and it wasn't the police report or the original Whose Line clip. This video started with a shakily held camera being carried down an unfamiliar hallway. Ryan could hear voices in the background, and the unknown camera man kept shushing them, which then led to more talking and stifled laughter.
“Ready?” the person holding the camera whispered. Ryan noted that it was definitely masculine, though it had been too quiet for him to be able to identify the camera man from that word alone. On camera, he saw a hand curl around a silver doorknob attached to an expensive looking wooden door. “One...two...three!”
The hand pushed the door open, and Ryan only got enough of a view to see they were in a bedroom before the video suddenly stopped.
Startled, Ryan pulled back, blinking at the suddenly black screen. The colored wheel popped up again and spun around for a few seconds before that, too, faded away, only to be replaced by the message, “File corrupt. Unknown error,” before he was unceremoniously kicked back to the main menu.
“Huh,” Ryan said, slumping back against the futon. “What the hell does that mean?”
He went back to the video list and tried again, but it wouldn't even load now. Dejected, Ryan considered just tossing the phone in his bag and worrying about it later. He was taking too long, and Colin would come looking for him soon. But just as he was about to stand, something else grabbed his attention.
The video, as it always had been, was just labeled by the date. But the date he was looking at now wasn't the all too familiar April 28th, 2013 one. He'd seen “April” and “2013” and had been too excited to really study it before, but now he saw that this video was from April 22nd, 2013. Ryan frowned. He supposed it didn't matter what the exact date was. It was still from the future, but somehow, something didn't feel right. And as he stared at the phone, other things started to look wrong. The screen seemed a little more scratched than usual, though luckily the scratches were just on the screen protector. Wait. Had he had a screen protector before? Sam could have put it on, but he'd never noticed it before now. And, going back to the main menu once more, he started to notice other oddities. Some icons had changed places or were missing altogether. It was like-
Ryan frowned. There was an obvious answer staring him right in the face, but it couldn't be. It was impossible. But at the same time, Ryan couldn't think of any other explanation.
It wasn't his phone.
To be continued...
Author: Clay
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: When a freak accident drops an impossible opportunity in Ryan's lap, it's up to him to decide whether to squander it, or to change his fate by going after the one thing he's always wanted.
Word Count: ~1600
Prompt & Author's Notes: End of chapter 9. Much smaller. I'm sorry for not posting before going to bed last night. I meant to, but I guess I fell asleep before I could. :P Again, for the Thon Prompt 33: Strangled by the red string. As always, betaed by asuka14.
Chapter 9b
Back at the cabin, Ryan took it upon himself to clean and gut the fish at their cabin's picnic table while Colin stowed the gear. The freshly sharpened blade of his swiss army knife slid cleanly through the belly of the first trout. Ryan assumed there was a filleting knife or some such in the kitchen, but for some reason using it would have felt like cheating. A swiss army knife had a number of uses, whereas a filleting knife had just one, and it was the former that came along on his childhood family fishing trips for just that reason. It wasn’t ideal, but experience gave him a deft hand, and besides, doing it the way his father had taught him turned what was an otherwise unappealing task into a nostalgic jaunt.
He felt Colin’s eyes on him as he finished gutting the fish, then moved to scaling and finally filleting them. He was sure that Colin was appalled at Ryan’s choice of equipment, but he didn’t speak-just watched.
Ryan, meanwhile, didn't really need to think as he made quick work of all three fish. His hands moved through rote memory, his mind wandering to days long past and memories of those family fishing trips and his time in the plant.
“Done,” he said, laying the last perfectly cut filet on a plate with the others.
Colin gave an approving nod. “I’m impressed,” he said. He scooted the plate over to the other side of the table and gave Ryan a cheeky smile. “And now it’s my turn to impress you.”
Ryan was a passable cook, but Colin was brilliant in the kitchen. He didn’t have the training to technically be called a chef, but that’s how Ryan thought of him anyway, and he felt a rush of pride for his friend as he watched Colin turn the weather-worn picnic table into a work station. While Ryan had been making sure they had everything they needed for camp, Colin had been more interested in making sure they had the right staples to accompany a fish dinner-or to be dinner had they neglected to catch any fish. In addition to the pasta they’d had for lunch, Colin had purchased a number of canned and fresh vegetables, herbs, rice, two thick steaks, and a few other odds and ends. Ryan’s ideal vacation didn’t include cooking, but it definitely included tasting one of Colin’s delicious creations.
He sat back and lit a cigarette, watching as Colin cleaned and fired up the grill. The fish would be going straight on the grate, but first Colin set a small skillet down, where he made a quick and absolutely divine smelling sauce with butter, lemon, capers, and fresh herbs. He used half of this on the fish, then returned the skillet to the grill, where he added in large white beans and spinach.
By the time the fish was going on the grill, Ryan’s mouth was watering.
He pushed himself up from his seat, shaking his head as he stubbed out his cigarette.
“I have to get out of here before I eat my own arm off.”
Colin laughed. “It’ll be done in two minutes.”
The fire popped and cracked as oil from the fish skin dripped onto the hot coals. In that moment, Ryan could think of nothing more delicious than a fatty, crispy bit of trout skin. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “That’s two minutes two long.”
Colin rolled his eyes, turning to give Ryan a smirk over his shoulder. “Well why don’t you grab the wine and a couple of glasses? It should be done by the time you get back.
“And don’t you go in there and start eating everything,” he continued, brandishing a spatula at Ryan as he started toward the cabin. “You’ll ruin your appetite.”
“Yes, mom,” Ryan quipped. He jogged up the stairs, chuckling softly, and disappeared inside, where Colin had a dry Reisling chilling in the refrigerator.
He popped the cork, grabbed two glasses, and was just heading back out when something caught his eye.
He’d left the iPhone in his overnight bag while they’d gone fishing for fear of dropping it in the lake. It was the first time he’d been away from it since heading back to 2001, and surprisingly, he'd hardly missed it. He’d gotten so caught up in living in the moment that he hadn’t been thinking about the future.
Now, however, as he crossed past his and Colin's bags, the darkened screen caught the overhead light, and it flashed, drawing Ryan’s attention. He paused, bottle and glasses in hand, to look down at it. He was sure he'd left it in the bag, not on it for fear of Colin seeing it and questioning him again, but then, he'd been so tired that afternoon that he'd probably forgotten. Luckily, Colin hadn't mentioned it, and now he had the chance to stow it away before it was noticed.
But something else occurred to him as he looked down at the phone. He hadn’t checked the videos since that morning. Then, there had been nothing there; his future had been in flux. Could things have changed?
A glance out the window told him that Colin was just starting to plate the fish. Ryan looked down at the phone again, feeling one more moment of indecision before he gave in. He hurriedly put the glass wear down on the counter, then grabbed the phone, turned it on, and headed straight to the video screen. For a moment he was simply pleased at the ease with which he was now able to navigate the phone's menus, barely noting the buttons he pushed as he quickly made his way to the desired screen, but that was immediately forgotten the moment he got there.
It was back.
There, sitting atop the list was a file from April 2013.
Ryan took one last quick glance out the window to make sure Colin was still occupied, then hesitated. Colin looked so happy, playing the domestic role as he set the picnic table. Was there really any reason to check what the future currently held? He could just as easily head back outside, continue on with their evening, and be perfectly happy.
But the idea of not checking struck a chord of fear in him, and, taking a deep, steadying breath, Ryan looked back at the phone and selected the video.
The spinning color wheel came up as the video loaded, and Ryan moved back to take a seat on the futon. The memory of his arrest was almost non existent, so he was fairly positive that he wouldn't find the news clip when the video finally started to play. It was a mild reassurance, but he still felt apprehensive. His memory of the original game of Party Quirks had also nearly faded from his mind, so he had no idea what to expect.
Finally the video started, and Ryan leaned in close to the screen as he tried to make out what was going on. He had been correct in his assumption, and it wasn't the police report or the original Whose Line clip. This video started with a shakily held camera being carried down an unfamiliar hallway. Ryan could hear voices in the background, and the unknown camera man kept shushing them, which then led to more talking and stifled laughter.
“Ready?” the person holding the camera whispered. Ryan noted that it was definitely masculine, though it had been too quiet for him to be able to identify the camera man from that word alone. On camera, he saw a hand curl around a silver doorknob attached to an expensive looking wooden door. “One...two...three!”
The hand pushed the door open, and Ryan only got enough of a view to see they were in a bedroom before the video suddenly stopped.
Startled, Ryan pulled back, blinking at the suddenly black screen. The colored wheel popped up again and spun around for a few seconds before that, too, faded away, only to be replaced by the message, “File corrupt. Unknown error,” before he was unceremoniously kicked back to the main menu.
“Huh,” Ryan said, slumping back against the futon. “What the hell does that mean?”
He went back to the video list and tried again, but it wouldn't even load now. Dejected, Ryan considered just tossing the phone in his bag and worrying about it later. He was taking too long, and Colin would come looking for him soon. But just as he was about to stand, something else grabbed his attention.
The video, as it always had been, was just labeled by the date. But the date he was looking at now wasn't the all too familiar April 28th, 2013 one. He'd seen “April” and “2013” and had been too excited to really study it before, but now he saw that this video was from April 22nd, 2013. Ryan frowned. He supposed it didn't matter what the exact date was. It was still from the future, but somehow, something didn't feel right. And as he stared at the phone, other things started to look wrong. The screen seemed a little more scratched than usual, though luckily the scratches were just on the screen protector. Wait. Had he had a screen protector before? Sam could have put it on, but he'd never noticed it before now. And, going back to the main menu once more, he started to notice other oddities. Some icons had changed places or were missing altogether. It was like-
Ryan frowned. There was an obvious answer staring him right in the face, but it couldn't be. It was impossible. But at the same time, Ryan couldn't think of any other explanation.
It wasn't his phone.
To be continued...