Ficlet - The O.C. - Guilty Conscience - Chapter 2 (Trey/Seth)
Title: Guilty Conscience
Author: Jewel21
Rating: Hard R for sexual situations
Show: The O.C.
Genre: Angst/Slash
Pairing: Seth/Trey
Type: WIP
Summary: An unforeseeable event sends Trey and Seth back to Orange County.
A/N: This story contains slash. If you are offended by such pairings, please don't read. This story also follows after my series ‘Guilty Pleasures.’ I would suggest reading that first to better understand this story. That fic is as follows: Guilty Pleasures, Seth Knows, Stolen Moments, Risky Games, Confrontations and The Commencement
Special thanks goes out to my betas, scarlet and black_london.
Oh, and reviews are very much appreciated. Seriously, they are like crack to me. Please don’t deny me my fix ;)
________________________________________________________________________
Disclaimer: I don't own The OC. It belongs to a bunch of people I don't know and Fox.
Chapter 2
The phone call had lasted about twenty minutes and by the time Trey re-entered the apartment Seth had tidied up and was waiting for him on the newly made bed. Still dazed from the phone call, he slowly placed the cordless back onto its base before facing Seth.
“My parents called while you were outside,” Seth said and Trey looked down to see Seth holding his cell phone in the palm of his hand. “My dad was the one who initially got the call about…” Seth continued before trailing off. “My mom booked us flights for later tonight and my parents want to help with the funeral and stuff.”
“Yeah,” Trey nodded because Ryan had already mentioned that on the phone and he didn’t know what else to say. “Um, look I gotta go open the garage and I’m late,” he said after an awkward pause. He grabbed his keys and boots, ignoring the look of surprise and concern on Seth’s face.
“Dude, you’re going to work?” Seth asked incredulously, rising from the bed and walking towards him. Trey tensed at his tone.
“My boss isn’t coming in until 10:00 AM and I’m the only other person with the keys, so yeah Seth, I’m going in,” Trey said slowly, his tone sharper than he had intended. “I’ll be back around 11:00 AM and then we’ll pack and stuff alright?” he asked, consciously softening his tone because he didn’t want to fight with Seth. He was just on edge and his head hurt and his mom had just fuckin’ died and god the whole situation was crazy. One minute he and Seth were having amazing morning sex and a split second later his whole world had been tipped on its axis. And he still couldn’t wrap his head around what Ryan had told him, even with the words replaying themselves over and over in his mind.
“Yeah, okay. Okay,” Seth said gently as he hovered in front of Trey, looking uncertain.
“Okay, I’ll see you later,” Trey said simply, bending down to put on his boots. He checked his pockets one last time to make sure he had everything he needed before he turned and walked out the door, closing it firmly behind him.
***
The plane ride to Orange County was quiet and tense. Trey spent the majority of the flight either fidgeting or lost in thought. Seth was silent beside him the whole flight, with the exception of when the flight attendant asked him what he’d like to drink. On the one hand, it was unnerving having Seth be so still when normally Seth was so full of energy, bouncing, neurotic and constantly babbling. But, on the other hand, Trey was grateful for the silence. He needed time to think and sort through his feelings. He didn’t know what to think or how to feel since Ryan’s phone call and there was a pressure in his head, right behind his eyes that had been getting progressively worse since this morning and the plane ride wasn’t helping any. He kept rubbing at this eyes, his fingers pressing to his temples, hoping that the pressure of his fingers would help alleviate the pressure building up in his skull but nothing seemed to be helping and he really needed to find some aspirin or Tylenol or something.
He’d taken longer than he had said he would getting home from the garage. After explaining the situation to his boss, he’d decided to stay awhile despite his boss’s concern. The thought of going back to the small apartment he shared with Seth and having to deal with Seth’s worried looks was something that he didn’t think he could handle. So he’d stayed to work on an old Ford Mustang that someone brought in. It had been a relief to focus on something that he could actual fix. And for a little while, at least, he’d even been able to forget about his mom and Ryan and the upcoming funeral. When he finally couldn’t avoid Seth any longer without missing their flight he’d come home, surprised to find all their bags already packed and waiting by the door. Seth hadn’t said anything more than hi and after standing around awkwardly aware of each other’s presence but unsure of how to proceed, they’d decided to head to the airport a little earlier than planned.
The sound of the pilot’s voice over the loudspeaker as he announced their descent startled Trey from his thoughts, and his stomach did that churning thing it had been doing since this morning.
“My dad’s picking us up,” Seth said, breaking up the silence, and Trey found himself actually relieved to hear his voice. “Ryan is driving up from Berkeley but he had a test this morning and he needed to pack up some stuff so he couldn’t drive up right away. He should be arriving the around the same time we are. My mom’s going to pick up some take-out or something. My dad’s supposed to call her from the car to let her know what we want to eat.”
“Okay,” he said, forcing himself to look Seth in the eye, something he hadn’t done since this morning. He knew he was being a dick, pushing Seth away, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to stop and he didn’t know what that said about himself.
Seth looked relieved that Trey was actually speaking to him and he tried to smile reassuringly, but he was pretty sure it came out more of a grimace given the worried look Seth directed at him.
“Are you okay?” Seth asked, and he looked hesitant, almost unsure as to whether he should have even asked the question.
“I’m fine,” Trey reassured Seth, his voice steady, and he almost fooled himself into believing it was true. Keeping eye contact, he reached over and gave Seth’s hand a firm squeeze before letting go. Turning his head he stared out the window, silently watching the ground rush up to meet them as the plane started its descent.
***
Sandy met them at the baggage claim, he and Seth exchanging a long hug. Trey nodded hello and didn’t protest when Seth’s father pulled him into a hug of his own and offered condolences. It was strange for a number of reasons, and he tried not to tense up as Sandy wrapped his arms around him, Seth silently watching the exchange. Once all their luggage was collected, he herded them toward the parking area. Trey settled into the backseat of the black Range Rover as Seth sat up front with his father.
Trey was content to let Sandy and Seth talk, preferring to stare out the window at the palm trees and sparkling ocean whizzing by him as they neared the Cohen house. It felt weird to be back in California. He’d gotten used to Rhode Island and cold weather and four seasons. The sky was bright and it made his eyes hurt and his head throb and he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window instead.
Trey wasn’t sure how much time had passed but suddenly the car was slowing down, taking winding turns and he knew they were nearing their destination. Minutes later, Sandy pulled into the driveway, and a feeling of anxiety washed over Trey as he slowly unhooked his seatbelt. He took his time, his movements slow, and when he couldn’t stall any longer without drawing attention to himself he got out of the car and joined Sandy who was removing their luggage from the trunk. Seth had gone a little overboard with the packing but he didn’t say anything, just picked up the heavier bags and followed Seth and Sandy to the imposing front door.
Sandy didn’t even get the key in the lock before the door swung open and Kirsten stepped outside. Trey watched as she greeted her husband, and then Seth, drawing her son into a big hug before turning to him. “I’m so sorry,” she said, staring straight into his eyes and Trey found the eye contact unnerving. He nodded, unsure of what to do or say, allowing Kirsten to gather him in a hug before stepping back. She was still staring at him, her eyes sad and her smile kind, and he felt a lump starting to form in his throat.
“Where’s Ryan?” he heard Seth ask. Relieved by the distraction, Trey tore his eyes away from Kirsten just as the sound of a car coming up the street caught their attention. They all watched as Ryan turned into the driveway and parked behind the Range Rover before shutting off the car and stepping out. Trey watched silently as first Seth, and then Sandy and Kirsten offered condolences and platitudes before each enveloping his brother in a hug. Trey worked his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched the exchange. He hadn’t seen Ryan in almost two years, and it was weird standing before him now given all that had happened between them. Not to mention the circumstances that were now bringing them together.
“Hey,” Ryan said, once Sandy went to the car to get his bags and Kirsten and Seth had given him some breathing room.
“Ryan,” Trey said simply as he took in his brother’s appearance. Ryan looked tired, his eyes a little red, and they both hesitated momentarily before Ryan reached over and drew him into a hug.
Trey honestly couldn’t remember the last time he and Ryan had hugged. He wasn’t sure they ever had. It was weird, and he guessed it was weird for Ryan too, judging by how quickly Ryan released him.
“I picked up Chinese food on the way home,” Kirsten said, her voice breaking up the uncomfortable silence that had descended upon them all. “It’s probably getting cold so maybe we should all head inside and eat? And after you boys get settled we can go over the arrangements,” she continued and Trey found himself nodding along with Ryan. He took a deep breath mentally steeling himself, before he reached down to gather his bags and followed everyone inside.
***
Dinner had been awkward, filled with polite conversation and pitying stares and while the food had helped to settle his stomach a little it had done absolutely nothing to alleviate the constant pressure in his head.
The headache had gone from constant, but bearable pounding, to feeling like someone was taking a jackhammer to his head. Pain stretched from the front of his head all the way to the top and back. The pain made it impossible to focus on anything Kirsten had told them after the dishes were cleaned, and he and Ryan were sitting before her. He vaguely recalled Kirsten asking about flowers and burial vs. cremation and a whole bunch of other stuff but he’d been in too much pain to focus and Ryan didn’t seem to know the answers either. It didn’t help that he also kept wondering where the hell Seth and Sandy had wondered off to. He’d been kind of hoping Seth would stick around, needed to see a familiar and friendly face, but it seemed he was straight out of luck today. Finally, seeing that she wasn’t getting anywhere, Kirsten had suggested they get some rest and sleep on it, and she’d see them in the morning when after breakfast she would drive them to the funeral home. Trey had never been in one before, had always been blessed that no one he knew had ever died before now, and he wasn’t sure what to expect but the thought of being in a building with a bunch of corpses in the basement freaked him out a little.
His headache had receded a little after he’d left the kitchen. Passing Seth’s bedroom door on the way to his own, he had thought about knocking to see if he was in there, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. Instead he’d gone into his own room, and somehow managed to fall asleep, despite the early hour.
Now though, he could feel a sharp throbbing pain behind his right eye, and it woke him from his dreamless sleep. Wincing, he got up, tripping a little over his suitcase before weaving his way into the adjoining bathroom. The light made his head feel like it would explode and he shut his eyes before slowly re-opening them. Looking into the mirror above the sink he saw that his right eye was completely bloodshot, red and angry looking, hardly a trace of white left. He rummaged through the drawers and medicine cabinet, hoping to find some Tylenol, but came back empty-handed. Annoyed, he shut the cabinet and closed the light, before opening the bedroom door and stepping into the hallway.
He paused briefly by Seth’s door but the light was off and he didn’t want to wake him. Instead, he continued down the hallway and managed to find his way to the kitchen without knocking anything over on the way.
Turning on the light, he started rummaging through cabinets and drawers, trying not to make too much noise. Seriously, who the fuck doesn’t have Tylenol? He thought to himself, as he closed a drawer in frustration before opening another one.
The knock on the glass door scared the shit out of him and he whirled around to see Ryan standing outside wearing sweat pants and a wife beater. He found himself hesitating for the briefest of seconds before crossing the kitchen. Unlatching the door, he stepped back as Ryan let himself in.
“Hey,” Ryan said, his voice suspicious and Trey bristled at the tone. Ryan’s voice was clear and he looked wide awake, despite the microwave reading 3:00 AM, and Trey wondered if he had managed to fall asleep at all.
“Hi,” Trey said and went back to the drawer he was currently searching.
“Can’t sleep?” Ryan asked, closing the door behind him and coming to stand beside Trey.
“Headache,” he said simply, before closing the drawer shut. He was about to reach for another drawer handle when Ryan reached over his head, opened a cabinet, and dropped a bottle of Tylenol in his hands.
Trey had never been more relieved to see a bottle of Tylenol in his entire life. Wrestling the bottle open, his fingers fumbling a little, he managed to pour three pills in his hand and then popped them in his mouth. Dry swallowing them, he then washed them down with the glass of water Ryan handed to him.
“Thanks,” he said before pouring himself another glass and taking a long swallow. Ryan nodded before pulling up a chair and sitting down at the breakfast table and Trey guessed it was too much to hope that Ryan would just leave and they wouldn’t have to actually talk. Reluctantly, he brought his glass to the table and sat down across from Ryan, forcing himself to look his brother in the eye.
Ryan’s expression seemed to soften a little when he looked at him, and Ryan’s forehead started to do that creasing thing it did whenever he was concerned or worried about something. He figured it probably had something to do with his eye, which had kind of reminded him of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s eye from the end of Terminator 2.
“You used to get those a lot when you were a kid, remember?” Ryan asked, voice low so as to not wake up the Cohens and Trey frowned a little because he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember a lot of his past, truth be told. Sure, he remembered key stuff, mostly bad. Remembered being unhappy a lot, yelling, screaming, the sound of stuff breaking and cop cars pulling into the driveway more times that he could count. But a lot of stuff was also fuzzy and tended to bleed together in his mind.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, which he quickly regretted when it felt like his head was going to burst.
“I don’t remember a lot, I was small, but you used to stay in your room sometimes and mom would tell me not to make a lot of noise or to put the TV on too loud because your head hurt,” Ryan pressed and Trey frowned. Ryan’s words triggered something from his memory, and he thought he vaguely recalled wet wash towels on his forehead, and his mother’s soothing voice and hands as she stroked his hair. That was before the drinking, before his mother was more concerned in finding out what was at the bottom of a wine bottle than what was going on with her sons.
“Yeah, I think maybe you’re right,” he said slowly before looking away.
“Seth sleeping?” Ryan asked and Trey looked up, stared at him suspiciously, before shrugging his shoulders.
“I guess. I haven’t seen him since dinner,” he said and now it was Ryan’s turn to frown.
“What?” Trey asked warily.
“Nothing,” Ryan said but it looked like he wanted to say something else and Trey waited. But whatever was on Ryan’s mind, he chose not to express it and they continued to sit in awkward silence.
He wasn’t sure how long they just sat there, ten minutes, fifteen? But the Tylenol was finally kicking in, the pain in his head starting to miraculously subside, and Trey could feel his body subconsciously start to relax.
“It‘s getting late. I should probably try and get some sleep. You too,” Ryan said, his voice breaking up the silence and Trey nodded in relief.
Ryan was almost out the door when something triggered Trey’s memory. “Mom liked orchids,” he said, remembering the question Kirsten had asked them earlier, the one neither he nor Ryan had been able to answer.
Ryan turned and Trey stared at his brother before continuing. “She told me her wedding bouquet was made of white orchids. She showed me the album once,” Trey said, wondering what had ever happened to it. If his mother had thrown it out, or if it was sitting in her apartment somewhere waiting for someone to claim it. “She said they were her favorites,” he continued when Ryan failed to respond.
“I didn’t know that,” Ryan said quietly after a pause, his forehead doing that little creasing thing again.
“And she told me that she wanted to be cremated,” Trey said, surprised at the rush of memory. They’d been watching a TV show once, when he was just a kid. He couldn’t remember the name of the show, but he did remember there was a funeral, big and elaborate, a black coffin gleaming in the sunlight. He remembered his mother turning to him and telling him that if she ever died, she wanted to be cremated, her ashes scattered somewhere beautiful and peaceful. He remembered asking what cremation meant, and she explained it to him, the process of being burnt. He remembered it had terrified him. He didn’t understand why someone would want to be set on fire, and burnt beyond recognition until nothing remained but ash and dust. It had upset him so much that his mother had quickly changed both the topic and the channel.
“She did?” Ryan asked, surprise coloring his voice.
“Yeah, she said she wanted to be cremated, and her ashes scattered,” Trey said slowly, still lost in long forgotten childhood memories.
It was the silence that caused Trey to look up. Ryan was staring off into the distance, his face unreadable but his jaw was clenched. “Ry?” Trey asked and the sound of his voice seemed to jolt Ryan from his thoughts.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ryan said simply but his voice was strained. He looked like he wanted to say something more, seemed to almost hesitate for the briefest of seconds but then he turned around and walked out the door in the direction of the pool house.
Locking the door behind Ryan, Trey put his glass in the sink before closing the lights and making his way to his room. Exhausted, he collapsed into bed, asleep almost instantly.
Author: Jewel21
Rating: Hard R for sexual situations
Show: The O.C.
Genre: Angst/Slash
Pairing: Seth/Trey
Type: WIP
Summary: An unforeseeable event sends Trey and Seth back to Orange County.
A/N: This story contains slash. If you are offended by such pairings, please don't read. This story also follows after my series ‘Guilty Pleasures.’ I would suggest reading that first to better understand this story. That fic is as follows: Guilty Pleasures, Seth Knows, Stolen Moments, Risky Games, Confrontations and The Commencement
Special thanks goes out to my betas, scarlet and black_london.
Oh, and reviews are very much appreciated. Seriously, they are like crack to me. Please don’t deny me my fix ;)
________________________________________________________________________
Disclaimer: I don't own The OC. It belongs to a bunch of people I don't know and Fox.
Chapter 2
The phone call had lasted about twenty minutes and by the time Trey re-entered the apartment Seth had tidied up and was waiting for him on the newly made bed. Still dazed from the phone call, he slowly placed the cordless back onto its base before facing Seth.
“My parents called while you were outside,” Seth said and Trey looked down to see Seth holding his cell phone in the palm of his hand. “My dad was the one who initially got the call about…” Seth continued before trailing off. “My mom booked us flights for later tonight and my parents want to help with the funeral and stuff.”
“Yeah,” Trey nodded because Ryan had already mentioned that on the phone and he didn’t know what else to say. “Um, look I gotta go open the garage and I’m late,” he said after an awkward pause. He grabbed his keys and boots, ignoring the look of surprise and concern on Seth’s face.
“Dude, you’re going to work?” Seth asked incredulously, rising from the bed and walking towards him. Trey tensed at his tone.
“My boss isn’t coming in until 10:00 AM and I’m the only other person with the keys, so yeah Seth, I’m going in,” Trey said slowly, his tone sharper than he had intended. “I’ll be back around 11:00 AM and then we’ll pack and stuff alright?” he asked, consciously softening his tone because he didn’t want to fight with Seth. He was just on edge and his head hurt and his mom had just fuckin’ died and god the whole situation was crazy. One minute he and Seth were having amazing morning sex and a split second later his whole world had been tipped on its axis. And he still couldn’t wrap his head around what Ryan had told him, even with the words replaying themselves over and over in his mind.
“Yeah, okay. Okay,” Seth said gently as he hovered in front of Trey, looking uncertain.
“Okay, I’ll see you later,” Trey said simply, bending down to put on his boots. He checked his pockets one last time to make sure he had everything he needed before he turned and walked out the door, closing it firmly behind him.
***
The plane ride to Orange County was quiet and tense. Trey spent the majority of the flight either fidgeting or lost in thought. Seth was silent beside him the whole flight, with the exception of when the flight attendant asked him what he’d like to drink. On the one hand, it was unnerving having Seth be so still when normally Seth was so full of energy, bouncing, neurotic and constantly babbling. But, on the other hand, Trey was grateful for the silence. He needed time to think and sort through his feelings. He didn’t know what to think or how to feel since Ryan’s phone call and there was a pressure in his head, right behind his eyes that had been getting progressively worse since this morning and the plane ride wasn’t helping any. He kept rubbing at this eyes, his fingers pressing to his temples, hoping that the pressure of his fingers would help alleviate the pressure building up in his skull but nothing seemed to be helping and he really needed to find some aspirin or Tylenol or something.
He’d taken longer than he had said he would getting home from the garage. After explaining the situation to his boss, he’d decided to stay awhile despite his boss’s concern. The thought of going back to the small apartment he shared with Seth and having to deal with Seth’s worried looks was something that he didn’t think he could handle. So he’d stayed to work on an old Ford Mustang that someone brought in. It had been a relief to focus on something that he could actual fix. And for a little while, at least, he’d even been able to forget about his mom and Ryan and the upcoming funeral. When he finally couldn’t avoid Seth any longer without missing their flight he’d come home, surprised to find all their bags already packed and waiting by the door. Seth hadn’t said anything more than hi and after standing around awkwardly aware of each other’s presence but unsure of how to proceed, they’d decided to head to the airport a little earlier than planned.
The sound of the pilot’s voice over the loudspeaker as he announced their descent startled Trey from his thoughts, and his stomach did that churning thing it had been doing since this morning.
“My dad’s picking us up,” Seth said, breaking up the silence, and Trey found himself actually relieved to hear his voice. “Ryan is driving up from Berkeley but he had a test this morning and he needed to pack up some stuff so he couldn’t drive up right away. He should be arriving the around the same time we are. My mom’s going to pick up some take-out or something. My dad’s supposed to call her from the car to let her know what we want to eat.”
“Okay,” he said, forcing himself to look Seth in the eye, something he hadn’t done since this morning. He knew he was being a dick, pushing Seth away, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to stop and he didn’t know what that said about himself.
Seth looked relieved that Trey was actually speaking to him and he tried to smile reassuringly, but he was pretty sure it came out more of a grimace given the worried look Seth directed at him.
“Are you okay?” Seth asked, and he looked hesitant, almost unsure as to whether he should have even asked the question.
“I’m fine,” Trey reassured Seth, his voice steady, and he almost fooled himself into believing it was true. Keeping eye contact, he reached over and gave Seth’s hand a firm squeeze before letting go. Turning his head he stared out the window, silently watching the ground rush up to meet them as the plane started its descent.
***
Sandy met them at the baggage claim, he and Seth exchanging a long hug. Trey nodded hello and didn’t protest when Seth’s father pulled him into a hug of his own and offered condolences. It was strange for a number of reasons, and he tried not to tense up as Sandy wrapped his arms around him, Seth silently watching the exchange. Once all their luggage was collected, he herded them toward the parking area. Trey settled into the backseat of the black Range Rover as Seth sat up front with his father.
Trey was content to let Sandy and Seth talk, preferring to stare out the window at the palm trees and sparkling ocean whizzing by him as they neared the Cohen house. It felt weird to be back in California. He’d gotten used to Rhode Island and cold weather and four seasons. The sky was bright and it made his eyes hurt and his head throb and he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window instead.
Trey wasn’t sure how much time had passed but suddenly the car was slowing down, taking winding turns and he knew they were nearing their destination. Minutes later, Sandy pulled into the driveway, and a feeling of anxiety washed over Trey as he slowly unhooked his seatbelt. He took his time, his movements slow, and when he couldn’t stall any longer without drawing attention to himself he got out of the car and joined Sandy who was removing their luggage from the trunk. Seth had gone a little overboard with the packing but he didn’t say anything, just picked up the heavier bags and followed Seth and Sandy to the imposing front door.
Sandy didn’t even get the key in the lock before the door swung open and Kirsten stepped outside. Trey watched as she greeted her husband, and then Seth, drawing her son into a big hug before turning to him. “I’m so sorry,” she said, staring straight into his eyes and Trey found the eye contact unnerving. He nodded, unsure of what to do or say, allowing Kirsten to gather him in a hug before stepping back. She was still staring at him, her eyes sad and her smile kind, and he felt a lump starting to form in his throat.
“Where’s Ryan?” he heard Seth ask. Relieved by the distraction, Trey tore his eyes away from Kirsten just as the sound of a car coming up the street caught their attention. They all watched as Ryan turned into the driveway and parked behind the Range Rover before shutting off the car and stepping out. Trey watched silently as first Seth, and then Sandy and Kirsten offered condolences and platitudes before each enveloping his brother in a hug. Trey worked his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched the exchange. He hadn’t seen Ryan in almost two years, and it was weird standing before him now given all that had happened between them. Not to mention the circumstances that were now bringing them together.
“Hey,” Ryan said, once Sandy went to the car to get his bags and Kirsten and Seth had given him some breathing room.
“Ryan,” Trey said simply as he took in his brother’s appearance. Ryan looked tired, his eyes a little red, and they both hesitated momentarily before Ryan reached over and drew him into a hug.
Trey honestly couldn’t remember the last time he and Ryan had hugged. He wasn’t sure they ever had. It was weird, and he guessed it was weird for Ryan too, judging by how quickly Ryan released him.
“I picked up Chinese food on the way home,” Kirsten said, her voice breaking up the uncomfortable silence that had descended upon them all. “It’s probably getting cold so maybe we should all head inside and eat? And after you boys get settled we can go over the arrangements,” she continued and Trey found himself nodding along with Ryan. He took a deep breath mentally steeling himself, before he reached down to gather his bags and followed everyone inside.
***
Dinner had been awkward, filled with polite conversation and pitying stares and while the food had helped to settle his stomach a little it had done absolutely nothing to alleviate the constant pressure in his head.
The headache had gone from constant, but bearable pounding, to feeling like someone was taking a jackhammer to his head. Pain stretched from the front of his head all the way to the top and back. The pain made it impossible to focus on anything Kirsten had told them after the dishes were cleaned, and he and Ryan were sitting before her. He vaguely recalled Kirsten asking about flowers and burial vs. cremation and a whole bunch of other stuff but he’d been in too much pain to focus and Ryan didn’t seem to know the answers either. It didn’t help that he also kept wondering where the hell Seth and Sandy had wondered off to. He’d been kind of hoping Seth would stick around, needed to see a familiar and friendly face, but it seemed he was straight out of luck today. Finally, seeing that she wasn’t getting anywhere, Kirsten had suggested they get some rest and sleep on it, and she’d see them in the morning when after breakfast she would drive them to the funeral home. Trey had never been in one before, had always been blessed that no one he knew had ever died before now, and he wasn’t sure what to expect but the thought of being in a building with a bunch of corpses in the basement freaked him out a little.
His headache had receded a little after he’d left the kitchen. Passing Seth’s bedroom door on the way to his own, he had thought about knocking to see if he was in there, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. Instead he’d gone into his own room, and somehow managed to fall asleep, despite the early hour.
Now though, he could feel a sharp throbbing pain behind his right eye, and it woke him from his dreamless sleep. Wincing, he got up, tripping a little over his suitcase before weaving his way into the adjoining bathroom. The light made his head feel like it would explode and he shut his eyes before slowly re-opening them. Looking into the mirror above the sink he saw that his right eye was completely bloodshot, red and angry looking, hardly a trace of white left. He rummaged through the drawers and medicine cabinet, hoping to find some Tylenol, but came back empty-handed. Annoyed, he shut the cabinet and closed the light, before opening the bedroom door and stepping into the hallway.
He paused briefly by Seth’s door but the light was off and he didn’t want to wake him. Instead, he continued down the hallway and managed to find his way to the kitchen without knocking anything over on the way.
Turning on the light, he started rummaging through cabinets and drawers, trying not to make too much noise. Seriously, who the fuck doesn’t have Tylenol? He thought to himself, as he closed a drawer in frustration before opening another one.
The knock on the glass door scared the shit out of him and he whirled around to see Ryan standing outside wearing sweat pants and a wife beater. He found himself hesitating for the briefest of seconds before crossing the kitchen. Unlatching the door, he stepped back as Ryan let himself in.
“Hey,” Ryan said, his voice suspicious and Trey bristled at the tone. Ryan’s voice was clear and he looked wide awake, despite the microwave reading 3:00 AM, and Trey wondered if he had managed to fall asleep at all.
“Hi,” Trey said and went back to the drawer he was currently searching.
“Can’t sleep?” Ryan asked, closing the door behind him and coming to stand beside Trey.
“Headache,” he said simply, before closing the drawer shut. He was about to reach for another drawer handle when Ryan reached over his head, opened a cabinet, and dropped a bottle of Tylenol in his hands.
Trey had never been more relieved to see a bottle of Tylenol in his entire life. Wrestling the bottle open, his fingers fumbling a little, he managed to pour three pills in his hand and then popped them in his mouth. Dry swallowing them, he then washed them down with the glass of water Ryan handed to him.
“Thanks,” he said before pouring himself another glass and taking a long swallow. Ryan nodded before pulling up a chair and sitting down at the breakfast table and Trey guessed it was too much to hope that Ryan would just leave and they wouldn’t have to actually talk. Reluctantly, he brought his glass to the table and sat down across from Ryan, forcing himself to look his brother in the eye.
Ryan’s expression seemed to soften a little when he looked at him, and Ryan’s forehead started to do that creasing thing it did whenever he was concerned or worried about something. He figured it probably had something to do with his eye, which had kind of reminded him of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s eye from the end of Terminator 2.
“You used to get those a lot when you were a kid, remember?” Ryan asked, voice low so as to not wake up the Cohens and Trey frowned a little because he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember a lot of his past, truth be told. Sure, he remembered key stuff, mostly bad. Remembered being unhappy a lot, yelling, screaming, the sound of stuff breaking and cop cars pulling into the driveway more times that he could count. But a lot of stuff was also fuzzy and tended to bleed together in his mind.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, which he quickly regretted when it felt like his head was going to burst.
“I don’t remember a lot, I was small, but you used to stay in your room sometimes and mom would tell me not to make a lot of noise or to put the TV on too loud because your head hurt,” Ryan pressed and Trey frowned. Ryan’s words triggered something from his memory, and he thought he vaguely recalled wet wash towels on his forehead, and his mother’s soothing voice and hands as she stroked his hair. That was before the drinking, before his mother was more concerned in finding out what was at the bottom of a wine bottle than what was going on with her sons.
“Yeah, I think maybe you’re right,” he said slowly before looking away.
“Seth sleeping?” Ryan asked and Trey looked up, stared at him suspiciously, before shrugging his shoulders.
“I guess. I haven’t seen him since dinner,” he said and now it was Ryan’s turn to frown.
“What?” Trey asked warily.
“Nothing,” Ryan said but it looked like he wanted to say something else and Trey waited. But whatever was on Ryan’s mind, he chose not to express it and they continued to sit in awkward silence.
He wasn’t sure how long they just sat there, ten minutes, fifteen? But the Tylenol was finally kicking in, the pain in his head starting to miraculously subside, and Trey could feel his body subconsciously start to relax.
“It‘s getting late. I should probably try and get some sleep. You too,” Ryan said, his voice breaking up the silence and Trey nodded in relief.
Ryan was almost out the door when something triggered Trey’s memory. “Mom liked orchids,” he said, remembering the question Kirsten had asked them earlier, the one neither he nor Ryan had been able to answer.
Ryan turned and Trey stared at his brother before continuing. “She told me her wedding bouquet was made of white orchids. She showed me the album once,” Trey said, wondering what had ever happened to it. If his mother had thrown it out, or if it was sitting in her apartment somewhere waiting for someone to claim it. “She said they were her favorites,” he continued when Ryan failed to respond.
“I didn’t know that,” Ryan said quietly after a pause, his forehead doing that little creasing thing again.
“And she told me that she wanted to be cremated,” Trey said, surprised at the rush of memory. They’d been watching a TV show once, when he was just a kid. He couldn’t remember the name of the show, but he did remember there was a funeral, big and elaborate, a black coffin gleaming in the sunlight. He remembered his mother turning to him and telling him that if she ever died, she wanted to be cremated, her ashes scattered somewhere beautiful and peaceful. He remembered asking what cremation meant, and she explained it to him, the process of being burnt. He remembered it had terrified him. He didn’t understand why someone would want to be set on fire, and burnt beyond recognition until nothing remained but ash and dust. It had upset him so much that his mother had quickly changed both the topic and the channel.
“She did?” Ryan asked, surprise coloring his voice.
“Yeah, she said she wanted to be cremated, and her ashes scattered,” Trey said slowly, still lost in long forgotten childhood memories.
It was the silence that caused Trey to look up. Ryan was staring off into the distance, his face unreadable but his jaw was clenched. “Ry?” Trey asked and the sound of his voice seemed to jolt Ryan from his thoughts.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ryan said simply but his voice was strained. He looked like he wanted to say something more, seemed to almost hesitate for the briefest of seconds but then he turned around and walked out the door in the direction of the pool house.
Locking the door behind Ryan, Trey put his glass in the sink before closing the lights and making his way to his room. Exhausted, he collapsed into bed, asleep almost instantly.