fic - instinct
fandom: the oc
title: instinct
rating: NC17 eventually
warnings: violence, sex and total crack. AU. AU. AU. AU. AU. AU.
author's note: somebody please make me stop with the crack. just when i think i can't go any more au, this happens.
Frank figured out that Ryan could do what he could when his son was three.
Trey had never shown any hint of talent at, well, anything other than breaking stuff.
But Ryan had the Atwood instinct.
Dawn was a shitty wife but a worse mom and when he saw the highchair tip over, he thought he was going to have to kill her.
But little toddler Ryan, fucking he saved himself. He twisted out of the chair and caught himself on the tablecloth before swinging down to his feet safely.
Dawn and Trey hadn't seen it, but Frank knew he had to take charge of his youngest son.
He hadn't been able to train Trey but he could still pass on his legacy to one of his sons.
--------------
Ryan learned hand to hand combat, jujitsu and several other martial arts before he was ten. He could shoot a rifle from over a mile away and hit his target square on. He could throw a knife and slice birds' heads off.
When his father got arrested, he was more relieved than upset.
His mom and brother didn't know about his special 'instincts'.
That's the only thing he could call them. They weren't powers as much as instincts.
He couldn't be snuck up on. He could scan a room in under three seconds. He could memorize pin numbers from across the street from an ATM.
And when his father was gone, he thought he might actually have a chance to be a normal kid.
Sixteen.
But his mother's alcoholism and his brother's mean streak almost made him miss the steady instruction and support of his father.
It was the stealing and violence that made him hate his father. And it would turn out to be the same reasons he hated the other Atwoods.
--------------
His social worker's name was Dennis and he was almost too fat to fit in the chair.
They should've got him one without arms considering his width.
Ryan half expected his ass to beep when he backed up.
"So, Mr. Atwood, turns out all our group homes are full and you're a little old for foster care in our current homes. But you've lucked out. There's a school that takes in orphans and unwanted kids of your mental caliber."
Unwanted. Nice. He counted the threads in the spider web in the corner while the fat man talked.
"Are you listening to me?"
"You're sending me to a school for smart worthless kids, got it," he said. "When do we leave?"
"The car's outside, they've already sent your things ahead. I'm telling the truth when I say you've lucked out. I've never had a kid on my watch go there, it's a...interesting opportunity."
Ryan didn't care.
If it was out of Chino and away from Dawn and Trey, it was fine with him.
"I'll walk you out," Dennis said, the chair tipping as he stood up.
--------------
Caleb watched as the limo pulled up into the circle driveway.
The boy didn't have many belongings but he'd made sure to bring everything.
Kirsten had already filled his room with the things he'd need for his life here. Thousand dollar suits and state of the art technology.
Most of the kids at the school were from well-to-do families that could recognize the lineage in their children.
But Ryan's father had been an aberration.
Caleb had known him as a teenager when he first found out what he could do. He'd tried to teach him how to use his gifts to blend in and reap the benefits but Frank had decided to use his instincts for a different direction. He learned just enough to make his life of crime viable.
Caleb had kept an eye on his lost protege and he knew that Ryan was special as soon as he started school.
He hoped that if he could bring Ryan into the school that he'd choose a different path from his father.
"Grandpa?"
Caleb turned to greet Seth. "Yes?"
"Are you coming to see the new kid? Is he cool?" Seth asked, bouncing on his ankles.
He smiled. "I hope so, Seth. And your father's meeting him downstairs, he's good with the new ones."
His daughters hadn't been talented the same way he was but Seth's gifts manifested the first time he sat down at a computer. He had some way of seeing and hearing code in a way that could trace any signal and decode series of numbers without blinking.
And even if he hated to admit it, Sandy Cohen was a feral talent. Caleb still hadn't pinpointed the fringe science (hee) behind it, but the man had something that made him able to read a room in a totally different way.
He could smell a liar from three blocks away. He could sense fear and rage and greed with a moment to skim faces.
He was great with the kids simply because he couldn't help but understand their feelings when he could read them like books.
"Go on down and check him out for me," Caleb said. "You've got class at two, don't you?"
"Don't remind me," Seth muttered, hurrying out of the room.
--------------
Ryan wasn't sure what was going on here.
Sandy seemed like a nice guy, keeping all his internal alarms completely silent in terms of pervert or asshole.
But he was lying on a bed with brand new sheets and electronics he couldn't even identify.
He'd gotten here in a limo. A limo that let him out at a mansion.
A fucking mansion.
He was in a wing of a fucking MANSION.
It was insane.
He heard the footsteps approaching the room and sat up an instant before the ball flew at his head.
He couldn't forget his father's training even if he wanted to and ducked the tennis ball, catching it in his hand and slinging it back.
"Nice, Chino," the short brunette said, the ball not even touching her hand before it shifted again and arced back at him.
"Fuck," he said, catching the ball and dropping it to the floor.
What the hell just happened? Did he just do his 'thing' in front of her?
And she did...oh.
"You get it now? There's a reason you got a free ticket to a mansion. Come on, I'll show you around," she said.
She was hot. And spicy.
"I'm Summer. And you totally passed your first pop quiz," she said.
"How'd you do that? You didn't even touch it," Ryan said.
She smiled. "Everybody's gift is different. Like, I can do things with energy, like the force of the ball flying at my hand, I can redirect it and turn it around. I can't explain it, I don't have the science gift."
"Oh. So the other kids..."
"Hey, Summer, you were supposed to wait for me," a curly haired kid said. "Hey, I'm Seth, are you Ryan?"
"Yeah," he said, nodding at him. "She was showing me around."
"He passed the tennis ball test," Summer said.
"Dude, that's cool, I fail that shit every time, and I bruise easily," Seth said.
"So you do something, too?" Ryan asked.
"I'm a technogeek. And not like ecstasy and rave techno, but like...computers and gadgets. Anything with numbers and code or signals, I can figure it out and how to make it do what I want," Seth said.
"Oh. That's cool," Ryan said honestly.
His instincts were still buzzing at a low level.
Ryan still wasn't sure what was going on here.
--------------
Anna saw the new boy sitting dazed in the corner of the patio.
She looked in the mirror and checked her hair, making sure the heart tattoo on her left breast was visible. She'd done it herself and was damned proud of it.
She had him sized up when he stepped out of the limo. Rugged and hard core, and with a lot more knowledge about defense than anybody else in this school.
She had missed having someone to throw knives with.
Her father had raised her in Philly and she'd hid her penchant for fast moves and danger until he had to bail her out of jail with a shank still shoved into her thigh.
She'd made friends here, but she missed the taste of blood in her mouth from a fistfight and the ache in her bones from a marathon fuck on a cement rooftop.
He glanced up at her through hooded eyes, stripping her down to the soul with his blue gaze.
She pulled her arm back and punched him in the face, knocking him off the bench.
"What the fuck..."
She crouched on his chest and hit him again.
"Bitch!" he said. But he didn't hit her.
"Fucker - hit me!" she said.
"Get off me," he said, but she punched him again.
His knuckles connected with her chin and she bit her tongue.
She threw back her head and laughed, taking a deep breath before grabbing his head and pushing her lips against his.
"You passed your second pop quiz," Anna panted into his ear when she had to pull away.
"Thank god. You definitely don't hit like a girl," the guy said.
--------------
"So, shiny new boy, what's your thing?" the next cute girl asked him when he was trying to hide in the dining room after his assault on the patio.
"Oh. I'm Ryan."
"Taylor Townsend, nice to meet you," she smiled. "I'm a language freak. I understand everything, like, I can read a book or watch a subtitled movie and just get it. And now it's your turn."
"I don't know. I haven't even been here three hours yet," Ryan replied honestly.
"But you do something or you wouldn't be here," she said.
"I just have...instincts. Like, I remember stuff. And sense movement, sometimes before it even happens and I hear everything."
"Like what?"
"Your watch is losing 0.03 seconds every time it ticks. You have a band aid on your left heel under your sock and you had hazelnut coffee for breakfast with a slice of grapefruit with no sugar," Ryan said.
"Wow. You...smell me?"
"As much as I can through my busted nose. Anna, I think? She kicked my ass," Ryan said.
"She's cool. Toughest girl I've ever met. But everybody's got layers," she shrugged. "She's cool. And you should find Che, he can fix your nose, or at least make it not hurt as much."
"Who's Che?"
"Oh, he's our healer guy. Sort of. He knows pressure points and stuff. Like, he can get your heart beat and blood pressure with a single touch, your temperature and health in general. And he can find those spots, you know, those Bruce Lee kung fu spots that can kill you with a single strike."
Ryan wasn't sure about that.
"Oh, don't worry, he's a sweetie, he doesn't even eat meat. He'll knock you unconscious or put you to sleep, or just make you feel better. He always helps out after Anna gets horny," Taylor said.
"Horny?"
"Yeah, that's what me and Summer call it," Taylor said. "She's high octane. And if she roughed you up, well, that means she likes you."
"Hell, I don't know if I want to be liked if this is the result," Ryan said.
But he couldn't fight the memory of the blonde's tongue in his mouth.
--------------
title: instinct
rating: NC17 eventually
warnings: violence, sex and total crack. AU. AU. AU. AU. AU. AU.
author's note: somebody please make me stop with the crack. just when i think i can't go any more au, this happens.
Frank figured out that Ryan could do what he could when his son was three.
Trey had never shown any hint of talent at, well, anything other than breaking stuff.
But Ryan had the Atwood instinct.
Dawn was a shitty wife but a worse mom and when he saw the highchair tip over, he thought he was going to have to kill her.
But little toddler Ryan, fucking he saved himself. He twisted out of the chair and caught himself on the tablecloth before swinging down to his feet safely.
Dawn and Trey hadn't seen it, but Frank knew he had to take charge of his youngest son.
He hadn't been able to train Trey but he could still pass on his legacy to one of his sons.
--------------
Ryan learned hand to hand combat, jujitsu and several other martial arts before he was ten. He could shoot a rifle from over a mile away and hit his target square on. He could throw a knife and slice birds' heads off.
When his father got arrested, he was more relieved than upset.
His mom and brother didn't know about his special 'instincts'.
That's the only thing he could call them. They weren't powers as much as instincts.
He couldn't be snuck up on. He could scan a room in under three seconds. He could memorize pin numbers from across the street from an ATM.
And when his father was gone, he thought he might actually have a chance to be a normal kid.
Sixteen.
But his mother's alcoholism and his brother's mean streak almost made him miss the steady instruction and support of his father.
It was the stealing and violence that made him hate his father. And it would turn out to be the same reasons he hated the other Atwoods.
--------------
His social worker's name was Dennis and he was almost too fat to fit in the chair.
They should've got him one without arms considering his width.
Ryan half expected his ass to beep when he backed up.
"So, Mr. Atwood, turns out all our group homes are full and you're a little old for foster care in our current homes. But you've lucked out. There's a school that takes in orphans and unwanted kids of your mental caliber."
Unwanted. Nice. He counted the threads in the spider web in the corner while the fat man talked.
"Are you listening to me?"
"You're sending me to a school for smart worthless kids, got it," he said. "When do we leave?"
"The car's outside, they've already sent your things ahead. I'm telling the truth when I say you've lucked out. I've never had a kid on my watch go there, it's a...interesting opportunity."
Ryan didn't care.
If it was out of Chino and away from Dawn and Trey, it was fine with him.
"I'll walk you out," Dennis said, the chair tipping as he stood up.
--------------
Caleb watched as the limo pulled up into the circle driveway.
The boy didn't have many belongings but he'd made sure to bring everything.
Kirsten had already filled his room with the things he'd need for his life here. Thousand dollar suits and state of the art technology.
Most of the kids at the school were from well-to-do families that could recognize the lineage in their children.
But Ryan's father had been an aberration.
Caleb had known him as a teenager when he first found out what he could do. He'd tried to teach him how to use his gifts to blend in and reap the benefits but Frank had decided to use his instincts for a different direction. He learned just enough to make his life of crime viable.
Caleb had kept an eye on his lost protege and he knew that Ryan was special as soon as he started school.
He hoped that if he could bring Ryan into the school that he'd choose a different path from his father.
"Grandpa?"
Caleb turned to greet Seth. "Yes?"
"Are you coming to see the new kid? Is he cool?" Seth asked, bouncing on his ankles.
He smiled. "I hope so, Seth. And your father's meeting him downstairs, he's good with the new ones."
His daughters hadn't been talented the same way he was but Seth's gifts manifested the first time he sat down at a computer. He had some way of seeing and hearing code in a way that could trace any signal and decode series of numbers without blinking.
And even if he hated to admit it, Sandy Cohen was a feral talent. Caleb still hadn't pinpointed the fringe science (hee) behind it, but the man had something that made him able to read a room in a totally different way.
He could smell a liar from three blocks away. He could sense fear and rage and greed with a moment to skim faces.
He was great with the kids simply because he couldn't help but understand their feelings when he could read them like books.
"Go on down and check him out for me," Caleb said. "You've got class at two, don't you?"
"Don't remind me," Seth muttered, hurrying out of the room.
--------------
Ryan wasn't sure what was going on here.
Sandy seemed like a nice guy, keeping all his internal alarms completely silent in terms of pervert or asshole.
But he was lying on a bed with brand new sheets and electronics he couldn't even identify.
He'd gotten here in a limo. A limo that let him out at a mansion.
A fucking mansion.
He was in a wing of a fucking MANSION.
It was insane.
He heard the footsteps approaching the room and sat up an instant before the ball flew at his head.
He couldn't forget his father's training even if he wanted to and ducked the tennis ball, catching it in his hand and slinging it back.
"Nice, Chino," the short brunette said, the ball not even touching her hand before it shifted again and arced back at him.
"Fuck," he said, catching the ball and dropping it to the floor.
What the hell just happened? Did he just do his 'thing' in front of her?
And she did...oh.
"You get it now? There's a reason you got a free ticket to a mansion. Come on, I'll show you around," she said.
She was hot. And spicy.
"I'm Summer. And you totally passed your first pop quiz," she said.
"How'd you do that? You didn't even touch it," Ryan said.
She smiled. "Everybody's gift is different. Like, I can do things with energy, like the force of the ball flying at my hand, I can redirect it and turn it around. I can't explain it, I don't have the science gift."
"Oh. So the other kids..."
"Hey, Summer, you were supposed to wait for me," a curly haired kid said. "Hey, I'm Seth, are you Ryan?"
"Yeah," he said, nodding at him. "She was showing me around."
"He passed the tennis ball test," Summer said.
"Dude, that's cool, I fail that shit every time, and I bruise easily," Seth said.
"So you do something, too?" Ryan asked.
"I'm a technogeek. And not like ecstasy and rave techno, but like...computers and gadgets. Anything with numbers and code or signals, I can figure it out and how to make it do what I want," Seth said.
"Oh. That's cool," Ryan said honestly.
His instincts were still buzzing at a low level.
Ryan still wasn't sure what was going on here.
--------------
Anna saw the new boy sitting dazed in the corner of the patio.
She looked in the mirror and checked her hair, making sure the heart tattoo on her left breast was visible. She'd done it herself and was damned proud of it.
She had him sized up when he stepped out of the limo. Rugged and hard core, and with a lot more knowledge about defense than anybody else in this school.
She had missed having someone to throw knives with.
Her father had raised her in Philly and she'd hid her penchant for fast moves and danger until he had to bail her out of jail with a shank still shoved into her thigh.
She'd made friends here, but she missed the taste of blood in her mouth from a fistfight and the ache in her bones from a marathon fuck on a cement rooftop.
He glanced up at her through hooded eyes, stripping her down to the soul with his blue gaze.
She pulled her arm back and punched him in the face, knocking him off the bench.
"What the fuck..."
She crouched on his chest and hit him again.
"Bitch!" he said. But he didn't hit her.
"Fucker - hit me!" she said.
"Get off me," he said, but she punched him again.
His knuckles connected with her chin and she bit her tongue.
She threw back her head and laughed, taking a deep breath before grabbing his head and pushing her lips against his.
"You passed your second pop quiz," Anna panted into his ear when she had to pull away.
"Thank god. You definitely don't hit like a girl," the guy said.
--------------
"So, shiny new boy, what's your thing?" the next cute girl asked him when he was trying to hide in the dining room after his assault on the patio.
"Oh. I'm Ryan."
"Taylor Townsend, nice to meet you," she smiled. "I'm a language freak. I understand everything, like, I can read a book or watch a subtitled movie and just get it. And now it's your turn."
"I don't know. I haven't even been here three hours yet," Ryan replied honestly.
"But you do something or you wouldn't be here," she said.
"I just have...instincts. Like, I remember stuff. And sense movement, sometimes before it even happens and I hear everything."
"Like what?"
"Your watch is losing 0.03 seconds every time it ticks. You have a band aid on your left heel under your sock and you had hazelnut coffee for breakfast with a slice of grapefruit with no sugar," Ryan said.
"Wow. You...smell me?"
"As much as I can through my busted nose. Anna, I think? She kicked my ass," Ryan said.
"She's cool. Toughest girl I've ever met. But everybody's got layers," she shrugged. "She's cool. And you should find Che, he can fix your nose, or at least make it not hurt as much."
"Who's Che?"
"Oh, he's our healer guy. Sort of. He knows pressure points and stuff. Like, he can get your heart beat and blood pressure with a single touch, your temperature and health in general. And he can find those spots, you know, those Bruce Lee kung fu spots that can kill you with a single strike."
Ryan wasn't sure about that.
"Oh, don't worry, he's a sweetie, he doesn't even eat meat. He'll knock you unconscious or put you to sleep, or just make you feel better. He always helps out after Anna gets horny," Taylor said.
"Horny?"
"Yeah, that's what me and Summer call it," Taylor said. "She's high octane. And if she roughed you up, well, that means she likes you."
"Hell, I don't know if I want to be liked if this is the result," Ryan said.
But he couldn't fight the memory of the blonde's tongue in his mouth.
--------------