[oc] The sound of waves (2/2)
Look over here (1/1) | The sound of waves (1/2) (2/2) | The space between dream and reality (1/4) (2/4) (3/4) (4/4)
"Mr. Atwood?"
He blinks, looking up at her. Her head is tilted and she's frowning.
"Maybe it'd be best if you cut your visit short today."
Ryan shakes his head, his jaw set, hand clenched into a fist inside his pocket. "No," he grits through this teeth. "No, I'm fine."
"I'm sorry, but you don't--"
"I came here to see him, ok? I'm not leaving until I talk with him."
She seems to think about it before nodding.
Ryan doesn't say anything, just turns around and makes his way to the door. He leans forward, face almost pressed against the small square glass on the door. He crams his neck to the right as far as it can go, but he can't see Seth. He swallows thickly, hand pressed tightly against the metal door. Metal. For Seth's own protection, or so they were told. For Seth's own protection.
After the incident (Ryan was never able to refer to it as suicide attempt, no matter what the psychologist in group therapy for the Cohens and him told him), Seth was hospitalized. Three months, at most, they said. Three months Ryan could deal with, especially after the heart attack he almost had at walking in on Seth lying down in the bathroom. Even now, almost a year and a half after the incident, Ryan has nightmares about it. About red water choking him, about hands slipping through his fingers, about brown eyes closing and never again opening.
Seth got better, Ryan has to admit, after he was hospitalized in this place that smells like chlorine and looks like a prison. Seth started counseling when his psychiatrist suggested it, along with group meetings, and family counseling, and everything there could be out there to counsel. Seth didn't like it at first, neither did Ryan, but it was something they needed to do, so they did.
Midterms of senior year came and went, Ryan doing his best to study, to pretend to study, to not think about Seth lying down on the small bed in his hospital room, white walls around him instead of the bedroom next to Ryan's.
Seth was getting better, week by week, as three months became six. Seth had to drop out of school, having already missed one third of the grading papers and exams. Personal reasons, the Cohens told the Dean. Personal reasons was the explanation behind the incident, which never found its way to Seth's college records.
And ,as things seemed to fall back into a routine, when Ryan was certain it would only be another week, two at the most for the doctor to announce that Seth was good to go, go back home and to the life he had almost forgotten, when there was another incident.
Ryan wasn't there to find him this time, but one of the orderlies was. Seth was sitting hunched in a corner of his small room, face hiding between his knees, shaking like a leaf. He was drenched in sweat and afraid of even the slightest sound. He kept saying, as the doctor had told him and Kirsten and Sandy, that Seth kept repeating that they had come to take him, finally, they had come to take him.
Hallucinations due to the medication. A new dosage, a new treatment. Everything starting, once again, almost from scratch.
May rolled around and Ryan graduated in the top five of his class, though he doesn't know how considering the last months he was barely going to class, let alone paying attention. And, as he walked onto the stage to receive his diploma and glanced to the crowd, there was a seat empty by the side of Sandy and Kirsten’s that made Ryan's heart seem shallow.
Two more months there turned into three and then, by this time, as the end of the year came and went, they had gone through so many drugs, Ryan had lost count. Leaving the hospital was out of the question and Seth seemed to fall into a depression, medication not helping, it seemed.
And it was only two months ago that the shit hit the fan. Seth started cutting through the already healed scars a second time. Ryan didn't see Seth sitting down on the bathroom floor, but it was almost as though he did. He remembers. He can imagine Seth in sweat pants doing just that, and the following year was plagued with nightmares that gave backup to the ones he already had.
Ryan bites down on his lower lip, takes a deep breath through flaring nostrils and hopes for the best, for the smallest best, for a small miracle perhaps, as he nods and Nurse Soplin places her key inside the lock of the door.
Again, for Seth's own protection. No more rooms with wood doors and a small bed and a nightstand and three chairs. No more comics or magazines or books. No more anything, for Seth's protection. Nothing but a bare room and a cot with no sharp edges. The key has to be turned around twice before the woman nods and the door is pushed open. Ryan closes his eyes briefly before taking a step inside.
Nothing has changed, Ryan notices, since the last time he was here, three days ago. He would have come two days ago, or yesterday, if he didn’t have to stay up late working on a new project. Office building, seventeen stores high, glass panels and concrete of 380, a structure Ryan thought was too much and went over it with pencil and HP calculator with the Structural in change of the design.
It's just the same, and at the same time, when Ryan turns around and finally sees Seth, lying down on the white floor, hands holding tightly at the opposite forearms, head tilted back, watching the ceiling and at the same not watching it, it feels entirely different.
This is not Seth, Ryan thinks, bitterly and achingly. This is not Seth. This can't be--
But he can't fool himself. He can't lie to himself like two years ago, when each time they changed medication, each time Ryan threw away the blue post-it on the fridge door and put up a new one with new words and new schedules.
"Hey," Ryan says, his voice hoarse with pain and tears he tells himself he won't shed, not there, not where Seth can see him.
Seth doesn't turn around, barely even moves his head to the side, and he's mumbling some tune in the back of his throat as he closes his eyes. Ryan strains himself to hear it, to recognize it and maybe have that as proof that this is his friend, the person he's been missing and aching for, but he doesn't, and Ryan wonders where in the world Seth learned it.
"Hey," Ryan says again, waiting for a reaction from Seth that will not come. He sighs after a moment, closing the distance between the two of them.
With heavy heart, he kneels before his friend, not really sure what's he's expecting of Seth. Nothing new, nothing different than three days ago, at least. When Seth opens his eyes, big brown eyes looking right at him, not through him like on past visits, but at him, Ryan gasps, his lower lip trembling.
"Am I dead?"
Ryan grimaces, shaking his head as he does so. No, no, oh god, no.
"Am I dead? Am I dead? I am dead. Am I dead?" Seth asks, his voice normal and simple, like it's the easiest question in the world.
Ryan can't stop shaking his head, can't stop his lips from trembling and something inside his chest from breaking. "No, no, no. God, Seth, you're not dead."
"I am dead," Seth says, convinced, barely nodding, barely even moving at all.
"Oh, god." Ryan's hand moves to his face, touching his lips and then covering his mouth as he feels like crying out in pain and fear and frustration. "Oh, god, baby you're not dead. You're not dead."
And even as the words leave his mouth, as he knows it's stupid of him to even say this, he wonders in the back of his mind. Something inside Seth seems to have died and Ryan wants to will it back to life.
Seth tilts his head to the side, frowning, looking at Ryan with confusion in his eyes that Ryan knows doesn't belong there. "Who are you?"
The question is too much for Ryan, physically forcing him to turn around, to place his arms around himself and press his chin to his chest. I can't do this, he thinks out of a sudden. I can't. I can't stay here and watch him slip away. I can't.
"Don't, please."
It's the voice that makes him turn around once again. It's the voice of the person who would tease him until Ryan wanted to slap him or hit him on the arm. It's the voice, not the words, and when Ryan turns around he half expects to see Seth standing there, not this person with hollow eyes, but his friend. Ryan lets out a soft sigh against brown eyes that don't seem to recognize him.
"Don't go."
Ryan bites down at the corner of his lower lip, shaking his head as he does so. "Why shouldn't I?"
"You came here." Seth says, tone normal and familiar but eyes vacant, forcing Ryan to move forward.
Ryan nods. "Yes, yes, I did, but I don't know why. I don't know...." He's babbling, saying anything and everything that comes to mind at this moment.
With a sigh, Ryan runs his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath before looking at Seth. He moves forward once again, closer to Seth than he has been in a long time, and looks down into brown eyes.
"Who am I?" Ryan ask, his voice soft. "Who am I?"
Seth tilts his head, frowns and then shrugs like he doesn't care. "I don't know."
"No, no, you know me." Ryan's teeth are clenched together, his hands balled up into fists to keep himself from holding Seth by the shoulder and shaking him until he wakes up. "You know me, Seth, fuck. You. Know. Me."
Seth blinks. Once. Twice. "I don't."
The words are said without emotion and it's that, it's the toneless voice of a friend Ryan can't recognize anymore, that force Ryan to reach out and grab Seth by the shoulders. Fingers tightly holding onto flesh, digging in until Ryan wonders if he'll make Seth bleed.
"You know me!"
The Seth Ryan knew wouldn't have stood there, taken it, but would have pushed Ryan back and shaken his head and asked what the hell was wrong with Ryan. But this Seth doesn't. This Seth looks at him, head tilted and stares. Ryan lets go of Seth's shoulders with a sigh and a slight push. His heart his hammering in his chest, loud and clear, like it wants out and to give up on him. Ryan places one hand above the thumping and takes a deep breath.
"I'm worried," Seth had told him a long time ago, when the medication had first started to take effect, or not take effect, actually.
"About what?" Ryan's heart had been hammering in his chest back then, too, thinking and trying to memorize the right colors at the right times, the right dosage for Seth to get better.
Seth had ducked his head, folded the lower corner of the page of the book he had been reading at the time, something about composition probably, and shrugged. But Ryan had seen through that shrug and known that Seth needed to talk.
So Ryan had nudged Seth on the shoulder and Seth had looked up. "About what?" he had asked again and only waited for a moment for Seth's response.
"I'm afraid I won't be me anymore."
Ryan's heart had done a funny thing in his chest at that moment. He had to swallow twice before being able to breath past the knot in his chest, in his throat, inside him. Ryan had scooted closer to Seth on the couch, looked up at him and bit on his lower lip to keep it from trembling.
"You'll always be you," Ryan had said, the back of his eyes stinging and the pain on his forehead doubling as he bit harder. "You'll always be you, Seth. You'll always love Comics and think about writing and play video games." He had given Seth a small smile. "You'll always bug me until I give in and borrow my notes and wait for me to wake up for class. Okay? You'll always be you."
And on top of that list, Ryan had known that Seth would be the same guy who sat in front of the TV and asked him, very nicely, if he wanted to play. Seth had nodded, stiffly, Ryan noticing that he, too, was biting down on his lower lip and they had both let the matter drop. Until now.
Ryan blinks, turning around to see Seth start pacing the room. Seth walks to the corner, slowly, looking down at his feet as he does so. The moment his forehead touches the white pad, he turns around and makes his way to the other side of the room. He sighs, shaking his head and closing his eyes. How did we get to this point? That's the question that has no answer, probably, because so far, Ryan has found none.
He opens his eyes to look at Seth, who's standing in the corner, head tilted to the side. His heart catches in his throat.
At some point, the medicine stopped working and Seth started losing himself inside his mind. He started babbling about everything and nothing, like the few times he would mix Dr. Pepper and coffee. He would blink and fall quiet in the middle of a sentence. He would turn around and look at Ryan, or Sandy or Kirsten, and wonder aloud who they were.
And now...
Now Seth is deep in there, somewhere, hidden behind the neurosis and schizophrenia. Ryan's afraid he won't ever find him again.
Slowly, as not to startle him, Ryan stands up and closes the distance between the two of them. But it's Seth who startles Ryan as he flops down on the floor, sitting down with his legs folded underneath him.
Ryan takes a deep breath, gaze following Seth. What do you see? Tell me. What do you see so intensely and I can't see?
He remembers words, names with no meaning, with no explanation between them. Words that would come out of Seth's mouth during the worst of times, in his delusional times, when the medication seemed to be working against him more than in his favor.
Christopher. Molly. Murray. The fear that there were people with Seth, in his room, looking at him with black eyes and black mouths, disintegrating into sand that would float above the air. Black eyes and pink dresses that would mutter words in Seth's ear. Threats that would be fulfilled if Seth didn't stop taking the medicine, if Seth didn't pick up the razor and cut his veins.
But there was nothing in the room, ever. There were no people in the closet or under the bed. Seth had made Ryan look on more than one occasion during his time in the hospital. And even though Seth saw them, and the psychiatrist told him that it was a product of Seth's psyche, that schizophrenia offend presented itself with hallucinations, Ryan wondered. It was absolutely normal, understandable, and the medication, the antipsychotics would help, but they haven't done much help so far, have they?
Ryan swallows, watching Seth push himself to his knees, lowering his head forward and staring at something on the ground that Ryan could not see.
Each time Seth had mentioned one of those names, Christopher, the same name Seth had been afraid of after the first incident, the day with the lights out, Ryan had felt something inside him. Something around him, more like it, chilling the room and making Ryan shudder. His imagination, Ryan had told himself that first night as he arrived home after visiting Seth. Entirely his imagination, right?
Only Seth would never lie to Ryan. Seth would rather sell his Batman collection than lie to Ryan so blatantly, about something as important as this.
But this isn't Seth anymore, is it? This isn't the same boy who spent the best part of three years with you at school, who joined you for lunch during college and the same person you were sure you'd end up spending your life with, in some manner or another.
Ryan swallows past the tightness in his throat and takes shaky breaths as the back of his head aches and stings and everything combines into one.
This isn't the same boy you fell in love with so long ago, is it? His mind asks him, whispers into his ear and seems to mock him. The Seth you fell in love with would make you laugh with a look alone, with his smile. The Seth you longed for during high school would nudge you and bug you until you gave up and paid attention to him. The fucking person you would have done anything for, even condemned yourself to spend four more years in the same apartment with for the sole purpose of having some kind of daily contact with would look at you and make you feel alive, right?
Ryan nods, his hand hovering over his mouth and then he shakes his head as his eyes fall on Seth, following invisible prints on the white padding of the room, face furrowed with confusion.
This person is not that person. This person is barely a shell of the man you fell in love with. And maybe that's what's killing you, his mind challenges. What's killing you, is that this isn't that man anymore.
Ryan takes a tentative step forward, shaking on his legs and in his conviction. I miss you, He wants to whisper. I miss you. Please, come back. Please. Wake up. Open your eyes, see me and really see me. Please.
And then Seth speaks, and the moment is gone.
"Can you hear it?" Seth's voice is suddenly the same too chipper voice Ryan used to wave off and try to tune out in the morning, when he had just woken up.
Ryan blinks, turning around to look at Seth still looking at the floor. "What?"
But Seth doesn't answer, because lately, Seth doesn't really answer when a question is asked. Seth babbles, and he does. "There's so much, so much, so much. There's so much going on." Seth chuckles, shaking his head, almost happy to hear his own voice. "So much. So much. So much."
Ryan nods, not certain what else to do. He can listen to Seth and nod and try to grasp at straws, as if understanding, but that's all he can do.
"He's here," Seth says, suddenly, sitting down with a flop and turning to look around, over his shoulder and to his back, and then back around, eyes not focusing on one point for more than a second. "He's here. He's always here. He won't leave me alone. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. He won't leave me." Seth looks up, brown eyes big and trembling and Ryan fears Seth might cry and then Ryan might not make it out of the room at all. "Why won't he leave me?"
"Oh, baby," Ryan says, his voice dropping to a tender tone he hadn't known he possessed, not until a few months ago when Seth got really bad, and it seemed to be the only tone to actually get through to Seth. The word of endearment was a shock, too, at that time, and then it became so very easy for Ryan to say.
He closes the space and kneels down by Seth's form and takes Seth’s hand in his. He pets it, lovingly, looking into brown eyes that used to haunt his dreams and now haunt his every waking hour.
"He's not here," He breathes out, softly, leaning forward as telling Seth a secret.
Seth shakes his head, forcefully, pulling back his hand. "No, no, no. You don't know him. You haven't seen him. But he's here." He makes a hushing sound, looking over his shoulder once again. "I can't see him. I can see him, not now, but I can see him."
"Seth--"
"He's always here. You don't get it." Seth shakes his head, throwing himself onto the floor, face down.
There are more words coming out of Seth's mouth, muffled by the padding and Ryan sighs, not being able to hear them, let alone follow Seth's train of thought. It's too much, to try and understand. God, so fucking much.
"He's already here." Ryan looks down at Seth as he turns his head around, looking straight head, at some point by Ryan's knees. "They are all here."
Ryan fears to ask. "Who are they?"
"She likes pink. She's always liked pink. I don't know why. I never asked. I should have asked."
And then Seth goes off again, on a tangent, for a reason Ryan can't quite describe.
"She likes dresses, too." Seth's not moving, only talking, like someone has pressed the play button and they don't know how to turn off the TV, how to play mute again. There's no explanation, just words, coming out of Seth's mouth a mile per hour. "I never saw her with something that wasn't a dress. She likes dresses. And pony tails. And playing with me. She always plays with me."
"Who?" But the question goes unnoticed.
"I didn't use to be afraid of them. I didn't. They were my friends. My friends, my friend, my friends. I liked them." He's nodding, biting down on his lower lip, almost trembling. "I really liked them. They were my friends. Yes, yes, they were my friends, but then..."
Ryan tilts his head. This is the longest this particular tale has ever gotten. "Then what?"
"They were my friends," Seth repeats, eyes closing. "He doesn't like me anymore. They don't like me. I don't like them either, but they didn't like me first. I don't know. They don't like me. I like me. I like me and I like them and I like us and I like me. They don't like me."
Ryan sighs. That was the most rational explanation he had ever gotten, and then it was gone, lost, and Seth's memory can't seem to grasp the thought any longer.
"Can you hear that?"
Ryan blinks, trying to follow Seth’s train of thought. He's certain Seth asked that before. "What?" He asks, leaning forward, shaky smile on his lips but a smile nonetheless. "What, sweetie, what can you hear?"
Seth turns around, looks at him, straight at him, eye to eye, for one brief moment. "The sound of waves."
Ryan closes his eyes in pain, shut so tight his head actually starts hurting. His hand goes over his mouth to stop himself from crying out loud, from screaming and demanding that the man he walked into this center is returned to him because this person right fucking here is not him.
"I can hear it," Seth says as he tilts his head before dropping it back to the floor, ear against the white padding, palms open on either side of his face. "I can hear it. The sound of waves. They are here. The waves. They are here, with them. They are all here. I like them. I like them and they like me. I used to be them. I used to be the waves."
Ryan nods, slowly, idly, trying to make sense of what Seth's saying. The waves? The water. He used to love the water. He probably got that from Sandy, though Sandy surfs. Seth, well, Seth is more of a sailing kind of guy.
"Yes, you like them." Ryan smiles at Seth, his hand reaching forward to run his fingers through Seth's curls. They are all in a tangle, have been lately. Seth doesn't comb his hair anymore. "You always liked the water."
"I miss them."
Ryan nods, the smile quivering inside him. "Yes, and I'm sure they miss you." He takes a leap forward and dares to say what he thought would never be spoken. "I miss you, sweetie, you know? I miss you so much. I miss having you at the house, I miss having breakfast with you." His voice lowers to barely a whisper and there are tears in his voice along with his eyes. "I miss you and I think maybe--"
"I like the waves, the sound of the waves and the water and the... and the other thing and I like it and..." When Seth turns around to look at Ryan, he frowns, tilts his head and speaks, "Who are you?"
Ryan lets out shaky sigh, reaches out and touches Seth's cheek with his fingertips. Seth doesn't oppose, doesn't say anything, probably barely even feels the touch or knows what it means.
"I miss you," Ryan whispers once again and Seth nods.
"Yes, yes, I like the waves and you do too, right?"
Ryan nods. "Of course, sweetie. Of course. I like you." His smile falls down off his lips. "You used to like me."
"They don't like me," Seth says, starting his tirade once again, sitting down with a jump and Ryan retreats his hand from Seth's cheek. "They are here. All of them. He brought more. Why did he bring more? They’re here, all of them. Here. Here. Here. Here. I don't... he promised. I promised and he promised. He promised he wouldn't hurt him. He promised and I thought..."
"Who promised what, sweetie?" Ryan leans forward, eyes catching Seth's for a moment before they start darting from one point to another.
Seth shakes his head, trembling, arms around himself as he crawls away, pushing himself with his feet, until his back touches the wall. He hides his face in between his raised knees and starts whimpering.
Oh, god.
"Seth," Ryan says, following him and placing one hand delicately on Seth's shoulder, afraid to startle him. But the touch doesn't seem to get through the maze in Seth's brain, around it and clouding him. "It's okay, sweetie. It's okay. Everything is fine. I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you. Nothing will happen to you."
"Nothing?"
Ryan smiles more calmly and nods once again. He scoots closer and Seth seems to understand him, understand at least this much from Ryan. Seth relaxes against Ryan's chest, sighing softly and hiding his face in the crook of Ryan's neck. Ryan places his arms around him, tightly, and bites down on his lower lip. Not the moment for tears. Not now.
"I love you," Ryan whispers, his hand touching Seth's hair. "I've loved you for so long."
"I love you too," Seth says, sighing and closing his eyes.
Ryan's heart does a leap inside his chest before he tells himself Seth doesn't know what he's saying half the time. This is probably one of those times, as much as Ryan wishes it wasn't.
Minutes tick by and as Ryan becomes certain that Seth has fallen asleep, Seth stirs, looking up and around him, pressing himself tighter against Ryan's shoulder. Ryan understands and tightens his arms around Seth.
"It's ok."
"They are all here."
"Who?" Ryan doesn't expect an answer, and he's more surprised when he gets one.
"Christopher."
Ryan blinks, surprised that the name has reappeared once again. At times, Ryan wonders if he isn't someone Seth used to know, maybe even dated, and it's the mark that guy has left behind that makes Seth behave like this.
"He's here." Seth closes his eyes, forehead against Ryan's collarbone. "And he's not alone."
Out of impulse, Ryan turns around, looking over shoulder and all around the room. It's empty, as he suspected. It's completely empty. There's nothing but white padding and a silence that makes Ryan long for Seth's voice.
"We're alone. Seth, there's no one--"
Seth shakes his head. "That's what he wants you to believe. He... he's here. They all are."
Ryan bites down on his lower lip again, trying to come up with a question that might get an answer in Seth's foggy brain. "Who... who are they?"
"I don't know them," Seth says, slowly, looking up at Ryan with a frown on his face. "Never met them. But they are here. All of them."
Ryan frowns. "Who’s them? And how many?"
"Too many." Seth sighs, lowering his gaze. "Seventeen. I don't know them. Only know two of them."
Go on, Seth. Please. Just... "Who?" Ryan asks, with a tilt of his head and a raised eyebrow.
Seth blinks, pauses and takes a deep breath. Ryan's heart seems to stop as Seth says, "Molly. And Murray."
Ryan's breath catches in his throat. He's heard those names before. He's heard them, from Seth's lips, in one of his many nightmares in the months before the incident. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to remember Seth's almost feverish dreams, the words he used to mutter.
"Don't do that, Molly."
Ryan nods to himself. Yes, yes, that was Seth. That's what he said.
"Don't do that. I like you Molly. I thought you liked me."
Ryan thought Seth had been dreaming about a girl he used to know, or someone he met in his classes. Ryan never asked, would forget to by the next morning. He'd forget the moment he'd get back to his bed from having a glass of water and passing through Seth's bedroom in the process, hearing the muttered words.
"Go, Murray. Go. Go and don't tell Christopher."
"Who else is here?"
Seth turns around, looks over Ryan's shoulder and presses his face to Ryan's neck, tightly, his quick breath hot against Ryan's collarbone. Ryan shudders involuntarily.
"I don't know them," Seth says again, shaking his head. "God, I don't know them. I never met them. They are friends of Christopher. He's... he's..."
"What, Seth?" Ryan can't remember the last time Seth made this much sense, was able to lace words together into sentences that could actually be understood. "What?"
"He wants to scare me," Seth whispers before shaking his head.
Ryan rocks the two of them, back and forth until Seth stops trembling in his arms and he feels cold and damp against his throat. He sighs, tightens his hold on Seth and places a kiss on Seth's head. "It's okay. It's okay sweetie. I'm here. I'll protect you," Ryan says, though he's not certain exactly what he's supposed to protect Seth from.
When Seth's breathing becomes regular and Ryan thinks he might have calmed down, finally, Seth looks up and takes a peak over Ryan's shoulder once again. There's a quiet scream coming from his lips before his hands hold on tightly to Ryan's forearms, making him hurt, and he starts crying once again. "Stop it. Stop it."
Seth's voice is barely a whisper and Ryan looks over his shoulder to the other side of the room. There's nothing. There's always nothing.
"Make it stop. Please, make it stop. Oh, god, Ryan, please. Make them stop. They are--"
Ryan's hand on Seth's chin, Ryan forces him to look up, to meet his eyes even as his brown eyes are brimming with tears and his lower lip trembles. "What did you say?" Ryan takes a deep breath. "What did you call me?"
Seth frowns, confused, then rests his forehead against Ryan's chin. "Please, Ryan, please. Make them stop. I can hear them. They are... make them stop."
Ryan sighs, the back of his forehead, somewhere inside him, his mind is giving up, giving in, and he sighs once again. His eyes sting and he lowers his face, cheek against Seth's damp hair, and he nods. "Yes, everything you want, sweetie. I'll keep you safe."
"Don't go."
"I’ll never go."
"Don't leave me."
"I couldn't."
Seth looks up, his voice childlike and his lower lip trembling and his eyes bright red from the tears he isn't shedding. "You promise?"
Ryan bites down on his lower lip, letting go of Seth's shoulder long enough to wipe his cheek with the back of his hand, and he nods. Brown eyes look at him, really look at him, recognizing him and that's enough to make Ryan's heart stop and beat again a moment later. God, this is what he had been missing: recognition.
"I love you," Ryan says before his resolution wavers. If he can't protect Seth from himself, then at least he can protect Seth from the outer world. "I promise, yes," he says, his voice trembling as his cheeks heat up. "I won't leave you."
Seth nods, seeming not to have heard Ryan, or if he has, the words only calm him down. He sighs, finds a comfortable place with his cheek against Ryan's collarbone, his lips against Ryan's pulse and in a moment, Ryan can feel him relaxing. Sleeping.
Ryan sighs, shifts only enough to rest his back against one white wall and relaxes as well. He'll keep Seth safe, for as long as Seth needs him to. That much Ryan can do. Closing his eyes, in between the place of awake and asleep, Ryan thinks he hears muttered words and soft sighs.
After a moment, not certain how long, Ryan blinks himself awake. He yawns, looking down at Seth asleep on his chest. Ryan sighs, shifting his hand from Seth's shoulder to touch the back of his neck, up through his curls, and caresses his cheek. The story, the brief words and sentences he was able to coax out of Seth, return to the forefront of Ryan's mind and he lifts his gaze from Seth's bent head. There's no one around them, not one of the seventeen people -- are those even people? -- Seth had thought he had seen in the room.
Ryan sighs, shifting as he realizes he can't feel his leg, and that’s enough to let him know they might have been there for more than the moment he was certain he had closed his eyes. He shakes his head, telling himself once again that it is the schizophrenia, it has nothing to do with real people, because as far as Ryan knows, there was never anyone called either Christopher or Molly or Murray in their old apartment.
God, he misses that old place. After graduation, after starting to work at the Newport Group full time, there was no point in keeping that two-bedroom apartment three minutes away from campus and forty from work. Ryan put everything in boxes and moved both his and Seth's things from that place to another one, barely bigger if only in a better neighborhood. Seth's new room looks exactly like the old one, the window on the left side of the room now only on the right.
And then, of course, he remembers. Not that he'd ever forget.
Ryan
How long has it been since Ryan last heard his name from Seth's lips? A week? A month? He sighs, leaning back until his head touches the padding. Sixty-three days, actually. Since the last time he asked about the new Legion and if Ryan could bring it in the next time he came to visit. That was the last time Seth's thoughts, if put together in a ramble, made some sense. After that Sunday, the next Tuesday afternoon, Seth would barely give him a second glance, let alone speak more than ten words before pausing and turning to look out the window. Seven days before the last incident, and then Seth was moved to this bare room.
And maybe, Ryan thinks, looking down at the top of Seth's head, maybe the fact that he finally remembered, maybe this means Seth is getting better. Maybe his brain has gotten tired of the cloud over and around him, and has decided to let itself be seen.
Oh, God, please. Please let it be that. His hand trembles slightly as he brushes his fingers against Seth's cheek. I love you, Ryan thinks, his lips barely parting though no word are able to leave the tightness of his throat. I love you so much.
Minutes tick by, Ryan's not certain how many, but he enjoys each and every one of them while he watches Seth sleep, something he hasn't done in almost two years. He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and remembers the last time they went to see a horror movie and Seth ended up bunking with him. He starts to wonder how long they can stay like this, with no cares in the world, like there's no one else but each other, when Seth stirs. Ryan hears him yawn and shift in his seat before looking up at Ryan.
His breath catches in his throat, his chest tightens and the corners of his lips curl upward against his better judgment as he looks down at big brown eyes, making him remember that there is only one thing -- one person -- that matters to him in this world. "Would you like to go home?"
The words leave Ryan's lips before he realizes what he's saying, and it takes him a moment to understand the meaning of his words. That moment gone, he knows that's exactly what he wants. To take Seth back home, to their new apartment, and find a way to make theirs, Seth's, life work around the schizophrenia, because there has to be a way.
If there's not, Ryan's decided mind offers, probably the side that's not quite logical, but very much in love, I'll find a way. If there isn’t, I'll make one. I'll break rock with my bare hands to form a way.
Seth blinks, confused Ryan notices, and Ryan smiles, nodding as he does so.
"Do you wanna go home?" Ryan asks, again, his breath almost catching in his throat. For a moment, he wonders if Seth even remembers what happened only minutes ago, if he remembers the words the promises, if he remembers the na--
And then Seth smiles, and his eyes brim with tears threatening to fall. "Yes," Seth answers, nodding and sniffing, "God, yes, Ryan. Please. I don't want to be here anymore."
That's enough for Ryan, no more encouragement needed. "Okay. I just need a minute."
Against his better judgment, Ryan places his hands on Seth's shoulders and shifts slightly, giving him enough room to stand up. Seth stands up after him, hands gripping Ryan's forearm. "Where are you going?"
There's more than a touch of fear in Seth's tone and it makes Ryan want to embrace him once again. Instead, Ryan smiles and touches Seth's shoulder. His hand pauses as it reaches Seth's collarbone. "I have to make arrangements," he says, softly, taking a deep breath. "But we're going home Seth, I promise you."
Seth nods and with a trembling hand, he lets go of Ryan's arm. "I know. You've always kept your promises."
Ryan pauses for a second as he's turning around, hearing Seth's statement, before catching his step and making his way to the door. He knocks on it twice before it's opened by Nurse Soplin. She gives him a sad glance and Ryan turns around with a snort under his breath.
You don't know us. You don't know a damn thing, he thinks bitterly as he decides not to listen to the logical side of his brain telling him this has nothing to do with the woman.
"My cell phone."
The nurse looks at him as she makes her way past to the nurse’s station. She seems to be deciding what to say, if to say anything at all, before sighing and opening the right drawer.
Ryan waits, not as patiently as he would have in any other given situation, trying to come up with a plausible explanation.
He wants to go. He's better now. You should have seen him. He recognizes me. He knows my name.
Each more pathetic than the other, but all true. Seth asked to leave, and he's not there against his will. It was nothing like that. And he's better now, if only for moments at a time. Maybe it's all the medication, Ryan thinks. All those pills Seth has to take. Three with each meal and two more at midmorning. Different colors and different specifications, but all clouding Seth's mind.
Ryan practically snatches the cell phone from the nurse's hands and turns away, making his way down the hallway to find some privacy. He hits speed dial and it’s on the second ring that she answers.
"Hello?"
"Kirsten, I--"
"Ryan, sweetie. I was going to call you. There's a problem with--"
"Seth wants to come home."
That makes Kirsten pause. There's no sound on her end of the line. No breathing, no whispering, no nothing. Ryan's heart seems to wait for her permission to beat.
"What?"
Ryan lets out a soft sigh. "I talked with him."
"Ryan, honey--"
"And he talked, and he said--"
"You know him. He's not making any sense."
"No, no, Kirsten, you don't understand. He heard me and he answered--"
"At times, it seems like it." Her voice is entirely patronizing, and if she was here, with him, Ryan knows she'd be patting his shoulder. k
"No, you don't get it."
"I know what you're feeling."
"No, you don't!" Ryan's voice breaks, shaking his head, pausing for a moment. He closes his eyes shut, leaning his forehead against the wall, hand gripping the phone tightly. "You don't. You weren't there, Kirsten. You didn't find him in the bathroom. You didn't see him bleed and you haven't heard him." He takes a deep breath that turns into a sob. "God, Kirsten... He said my name."
And it might be pathetic, and simplistic, and not a valuable reason at all, but it's a reason. It's a word Ryan hasn’t heard Seth say in over two months, and that's more than enough for him to want to have Seth back.
"He said my name."
Ryan hears something on the other end of the line that might be a sigh. "He did?"
"Yeah," Ryan whispers back, and the awe and pain in his own voice takes him by surprise.
He doesn't know why, but he can almost see her, in his mind's eye. Her hand over her lips, pausing, thinking, remembering how her son used to look at her and how much she misses that recognition in his brown eyes.
"Look, I know it sounds stupid, but I know Seth, ok? I know how he looks, I know how he speaks and I very well know how he looks at me. And he..." he shakes his head, trying to put his thoughts into words. "He looked at me, a minute ago, and asked me to go home. He hates it here. I knew that, we both knew that since the beginning, but it was for the best. We thought that. But that's not true anymore."
And he has more words to tell her. He wants out. Seth wants to leave this and go back. We can make it. I can help him. We can find a dosage that won't kill him, even if it kills me. He has promises and vows to give her, and he's willing to, but she speaks before he can say anything else.
"He needs more help than last time." There's a pause, but her voice doesn't shake. "Constant vigilance, for a while, at least. Until he finds some sort of normality."
"I know."
"He'll need you."
Ryan knows. "I know."
Another deep breath. "Will you--?"
"I'll stay home. I'll be with him. I won't go back to work until he's fine, until I know he's fine and his doctor says he's fine. I'll be with him. I won't let him out of my sight."
Seth is first and foremost. Seth needs him, and Ryan won't let him get lost, not again, not like last time. Ryan takes a deep breath.
I miss him, Ryan thinks. I miss him and he's back. And Ryan will keep him safe and sound, just like he promised.
A shaky breath from Kirsten's end. "Okay. If you... if you think you can do it."
"I will. I can."
"Good."
And just like that, it's done. They'll take him home. Ryan will take him home.
Kirsten still has to tell Sandy, and she calls him back about fifteen minutes after Ryan hangs up with her. They've talked about it and Sandy wants Seth home as much as Ryan, and it's done. It's settled. There are papers to be signed, and every second of it seems like a year for Ryan. Every moment Seth's still in there, sitting, waiting for Ryan to come back and maybe fearing he won't, Ryan wonders about Seth's mental health.
Soon, though not soon enough, Ryan stands before the metal door and this time, when it opens, Seth's standing on the other side, hands gripping his forearms tightly, waiting. Ryan nods and Seth throws himself at Ryan, hugging as tight as he can. Ryan hugs Seth even tighter.
Within the next half an hour, Seth sits by Ryan's side in his Range Rover, a graduation present from Sandy and Kirsten, hands gripping the dashboard, almost in fear. Ryan extends his right hand and Seth takes it, gripping it just as tightly. Seth gives Ryan a small smile, and Ryan returns it, beaming, because Seth's here, with him, going home.
They can do this, Ryan thinks. They can do this. They are here, both of them, and Seth's here, and they can do this.
Ryan has enough faith for the both of them. And as he turns around the corner, both hands on the wheel, he doesn't see Seth looking at the back seat through the rearview mirror and sinking deeper into the seat, almost in fear.
The space between dream and reality
I think this is it. God. It has taken me so long to get this far in the story and I still have another piece to get done. *shakes head* Oh, God.
Anyway, it's here. And yes, I hurt Seth, but only slightly. *bounces* storydivagirl didn't like it. *giggles* Then again, she only likes it when I hurt Ryan.
Me going now. It's late and I really wanna go to bed. Take care. *s*
"Mr. Atwood?"
He blinks, looking up at her. Her head is tilted and she's frowning.
"Maybe it'd be best if you cut your visit short today."
Ryan shakes his head, his jaw set, hand clenched into a fist inside his pocket. "No," he grits through this teeth. "No, I'm fine."
"I'm sorry, but you don't--"
"I came here to see him, ok? I'm not leaving until I talk with him."
She seems to think about it before nodding.
Ryan doesn't say anything, just turns around and makes his way to the door. He leans forward, face almost pressed against the small square glass on the door. He crams his neck to the right as far as it can go, but he can't see Seth. He swallows thickly, hand pressed tightly against the metal door. Metal. For Seth's own protection, or so they were told. For Seth's own protection.
After the incident (Ryan was never able to refer to it as suicide attempt, no matter what the psychologist in group therapy for the Cohens and him told him), Seth was hospitalized. Three months, at most, they said. Three months Ryan could deal with, especially after the heart attack he almost had at walking in on Seth lying down in the bathroom. Even now, almost a year and a half after the incident, Ryan has nightmares about it. About red water choking him, about hands slipping through his fingers, about brown eyes closing and never again opening.
Seth got better, Ryan has to admit, after he was hospitalized in this place that smells like chlorine and looks like a prison. Seth started counseling when his psychiatrist suggested it, along with group meetings, and family counseling, and everything there could be out there to counsel. Seth didn't like it at first, neither did Ryan, but it was something they needed to do, so they did.
Midterms of senior year came and went, Ryan doing his best to study, to pretend to study, to not think about Seth lying down on the small bed in his hospital room, white walls around him instead of the bedroom next to Ryan's.
Seth was getting better, week by week, as three months became six. Seth had to drop out of school, having already missed one third of the grading papers and exams. Personal reasons, the Cohens told the Dean. Personal reasons was the explanation behind the incident, which never found its way to Seth's college records.
And ,as things seemed to fall back into a routine, when Ryan was certain it would only be another week, two at the most for the doctor to announce that Seth was good to go, go back home and to the life he had almost forgotten, when there was another incident.
Ryan wasn't there to find him this time, but one of the orderlies was. Seth was sitting hunched in a corner of his small room, face hiding between his knees, shaking like a leaf. He was drenched in sweat and afraid of even the slightest sound. He kept saying, as the doctor had told him and Kirsten and Sandy, that Seth kept repeating that they had come to take him, finally, they had come to take him.
Hallucinations due to the medication. A new dosage, a new treatment. Everything starting, once again, almost from scratch.
May rolled around and Ryan graduated in the top five of his class, though he doesn't know how considering the last months he was barely going to class, let alone paying attention. And, as he walked onto the stage to receive his diploma and glanced to the crowd, there was a seat empty by the side of Sandy and Kirsten’s that made Ryan's heart seem shallow.
Two more months there turned into three and then, by this time, as the end of the year came and went, they had gone through so many drugs, Ryan had lost count. Leaving the hospital was out of the question and Seth seemed to fall into a depression, medication not helping, it seemed.
And it was only two months ago that the shit hit the fan. Seth started cutting through the already healed scars a second time. Ryan didn't see Seth sitting down on the bathroom floor, but it was almost as though he did. He remembers. He can imagine Seth in sweat pants doing just that, and the following year was plagued with nightmares that gave backup to the ones he already had.
Ryan bites down on his lower lip, takes a deep breath through flaring nostrils and hopes for the best, for the smallest best, for a small miracle perhaps, as he nods and Nurse Soplin places her key inside the lock of the door.
Again, for Seth's own protection. No more rooms with wood doors and a small bed and a nightstand and three chairs. No more comics or magazines or books. No more anything, for Seth's protection. Nothing but a bare room and a cot with no sharp edges. The key has to be turned around twice before the woman nods and the door is pushed open. Ryan closes his eyes briefly before taking a step inside.
Nothing has changed, Ryan notices, since the last time he was here, three days ago. He would have come two days ago, or yesterday, if he didn’t have to stay up late working on a new project. Office building, seventeen stores high, glass panels and concrete of 380, a structure Ryan thought was too much and went over it with pencil and HP calculator with the Structural in change of the design.
It's just the same, and at the same time, when Ryan turns around and finally sees Seth, lying down on the white floor, hands holding tightly at the opposite forearms, head tilted back, watching the ceiling and at the same not watching it, it feels entirely different.
This is not Seth, Ryan thinks, bitterly and achingly. This is not Seth. This can't be--
But he can't fool himself. He can't lie to himself like two years ago, when each time they changed medication, each time Ryan threw away the blue post-it on the fridge door and put up a new one with new words and new schedules.
"Hey," Ryan says, his voice hoarse with pain and tears he tells himself he won't shed, not there, not where Seth can see him.
Seth doesn't turn around, barely even moves his head to the side, and he's mumbling some tune in the back of his throat as he closes his eyes. Ryan strains himself to hear it, to recognize it and maybe have that as proof that this is his friend, the person he's been missing and aching for, but he doesn't, and Ryan wonders where in the world Seth learned it.
"Hey," Ryan says again, waiting for a reaction from Seth that will not come. He sighs after a moment, closing the distance between the two of them.
With heavy heart, he kneels before his friend, not really sure what's he's expecting of Seth. Nothing new, nothing different than three days ago, at least. When Seth opens his eyes, big brown eyes looking right at him, not through him like on past visits, but at him, Ryan gasps, his lower lip trembling.
"Am I dead?"
Ryan grimaces, shaking his head as he does so. No, no, oh god, no.
"Am I dead? Am I dead? I am dead. Am I dead?" Seth asks, his voice normal and simple, like it's the easiest question in the world.
Ryan can't stop shaking his head, can't stop his lips from trembling and something inside his chest from breaking. "No, no, no. God, Seth, you're not dead."
"I am dead," Seth says, convinced, barely nodding, barely even moving at all.
"Oh, god." Ryan's hand moves to his face, touching his lips and then covering his mouth as he feels like crying out in pain and fear and frustration. "Oh, god, baby you're not dead. You're not dead."
And even as the words leave his mouth, as he knows it's stupid of him to even say this, he wonders in the back of his mind. Something inside Seth seems to have died and Ryan wants to will it back to life.
Seth tilts his head to the side, frowning, looking at Ryan with confusion in his eyes that Ryan knows doesn't belong there. "Who are you?"
The question is too much for Ryan, physically forcing him to turn around, to place his arms around himself and press his chin to his chest. I can't do this, he thinks out of a sudden. I can't. I can't stay here and watch him slip away. I can't.
"Don't, please."
It's the voice that makes him turn around once again. It's the voice of the person who would tease him until Ryan wanted to slap him or hit him on the arm. It's the voice, not the words, and when Ryan turns around he half expects to see Seth standing there, not this person with hollow eyes, but his friend. Ryan lets out a soft sigh against brown eyes that don't seem to recognize him.
"Don't go."
Ryan bites down at the corner of his lower lip, shaking his head as he does so. "Why shouldn't I?"
"You came here." Seth says, tone normal and familiar but eyes vacant, forcing Ryan to move forward.
Ryan nods. "Yes, yes, I did, but I don't know why. I don't know...." He's babbling, saying anything and everything that comes to mind at this moment.
With a sigh, Ryan runs his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath before looking at Seth. He moves forward once again, closer to Seth than he has been in a long time, and looks down into brown eyes.
"Who am I?" Ryan ask, his voice soft. "Who am I?"
Seth tilts his head, frowns and then shrugs like he doesn't care. "I don't know."
"No, no, you know me." Ryan's teeth are clenched together, his hands balled up into fists to keep himself from holding Seth by the shoulder and shaking him until he wakes up. "You know me, Seth, fuck. You. Know. Me."
Seth blinks. Once. Twice. "I don't."
The words are said without emotion and it's that, it's the toneless voice of a friend Ryan can't recognize anymore, that force Ryan to reach out and grab Seth by the shoulders. Fingers tightly holding onto flesh, digging in until Ryan wonders if he'll make Seth bleed.
"You know me!"
The Seth Ryan knew wouldn't have stood there, taken it, but would have pushed Ryan back and shaken his head and asked what the hell was wrong with Ryan. But this Seth doesn't. This Seth looks at him, head tilted and stares. Ryan lets go of Seth's shoulders with a sigh and a slight push. His heart his hammering in his chest, loud and clear, like it wants out and to give up on him. Ryan places one hand above the thumping and takes a deep breath.
"I'm worried," Seth had told him a long time ago, when the medication had first started to take effect, or not take effect, actually.
"About what?" Ryan's heart had been hammering in his chest back then, too, thinking and trying to memorize the right colors at the right times, the right dosage for Seth to get better.
Seth had ducked his head, folded the lower corner of the page of the book he had been reading at the time, something about composition probably, and shrugged. But Ryan had seen through that shrug and known that Seth needed to talk.
So Ryan had nudged Seth on the shoulder and Seth had looked up. "About what?" he had asked again and only waited for a moment for Seth's response.
"I'm afraid I won't be me anymore."
Ryan's heart had done a funny thing in his chest at that moment. He had to swallow twice before being able to breath past the knot in his chest, in his throat, inside him. Ryan had scooted closer to Seth on the couch, looked up at him and bit on his lower lip to keep it from trembling.
"You'll always be you," Ryan had said, the back of his eyes stinging and the pain on his forehead doubling as he bit harder. "You'll always be you, Seth. You'll always love Comics and think about writing and play video games." He had given Seth a small smile. "You'll always bug me until I give in and borrow my notes and wait for me to wake up for class. Okay? You'll always be you."
And on top of that list, Ryan had known that Seth would be the same guy who sat in front of the TV and asked him, very nicely, if he wanted to play. Seth had nodded, stiffly, Ryan noticing that he, too, was biting down on his lower lip and they had both let the matter drop. Until now.
Ryan blinks, turning around to see Seth start pacing the room. Seth walks to the corner, slowly, looking down at his feet as he does so. The moment his forehead touches the white pad, he turns around and makes his way to the other side of the room. He sighs, shaking his head and closing his eyes. How did we get to this point? That's the question that has no answer, probably, because so far, Ryan has found none.
He opens his eyes to look at Seth, who's standing in the corner, head tilted to the side. His heart catches in his throat.
At some point, the medicine stopped working and Seth started losing himself inside his mind. He started babbling about everything and nothing, like the few times he would mix Dr. Pepper and coffee. He would blink and fall quiet in the middle of a sentence. He would turn around and look at Ryan, or Sandy or Kirsten, and wonder aloud who they were.
And now...
Now Seth is deep in there, somewhere, hidden behind the neurosis and schizophrenia. Ryan's afraid he won't ever find him again.
Slowly, as not to startle him, Ryan stands up and closes the distance between the two of them. But it's Seth who startles Ryan as he flops down on the floor, sitting down with his legs folded underneath him.
Ryan takes a deep breath, gaze following Seth. What do you see? Tell me. What do you see so intensely and I can't see?
He remembers words, names with no meaning, with no explanation between them. Words that would come out of Seth's mouth during the worst of times, in his delusional times, when the medication seemed to be working against him more than in his favor.
Christopher. Molly. Murray. The fear that there were people with Seth, in his room, looking at him with black eyes and black mouths, disintegrating into sand that would float above the air. Black eyes and pink dresses that would mutter words in Seth's ear. Threats that would be fulfilled if Seth didn't stop taking the medicine, if Seth didn't pick up the razor and cut his veins.
But there was nothing in the room, ever. There were no people in the closet or under the bed. Seth had made Ryan look on more than one occasion during his time in the hospital. And even though Seth saw them, and the psychiatrist told him that it was a product of Seth's psyche, that schizophrenia offend presented itself with hallucinations, Ryan wondered. It was absolutely normal, understandable, and the medication, the antipsychotics would help, but they haven't done much help so far, have they?
Ryan swallows, watching Seth push himself to his knees, lowering his head forward and staring at something on the ground that Ryan could not see.
Each time Seth had mentioned one of those names, Christopher, the same name Seth had been afraid of after the first incident, the day with the lights out, Ryan had felt something inside him. Something around him, more like it, chilling the room and making Ryan shudder. His imagination, Ryan had told himself that first night as he arrived home after visiting Seth. Entirely his imagination, right?
Only Seth would never lie to Ryan. Seth would rather sell his Batman collection than lie to Ryan so blatantly, about something as important as this.
But this isn't Seth anymore, is it? This isn't the same boy who spent the best part of three years with you at school, who joined you for lunch during college and the same person you were sure you'd end up spending your life with, in some manner or another.
Ryan swallows past the tightness in his throat and takes shaky breaths as the back of his head aches and stings and everything combines into one.
This isn't the same boy you fell in love with so long ago, is it? His mind asks him, whispers into his ear and seems to mock him. The Seth you fell in love with would make you laugh with a look alone, with his smile. The Seth you longed for during high school would nudge you and bug you until you gave up and paid attention to him. The fucking person you would have done anything for, even condemned yourself to spend four more years in the same apartment with for the sole purpose of having some kind of daily contact with would look at you and make you feel alive, right?
Ryan nods, his hand hovering over his mouth and then he shakes his head as his eyes fall on Seth, following invisible prints on the white padding of the room, face furrowed with confusion.
This person is not that person. This person is barely a shell of the man you fell in love with. And maybe that's what's killing you, his mind challenges. What's killing you, is that this isn't that man anymore.
Ryan takes a tentative step forward, shaking on his legs and in his conviction. I miss you, He wants to whisper. I miss you. Please, come back. Please. Wake up. Open your eyes, see me and really see me. Please.
And then Seth speaks, and the moment is gone.
"Can you hear it?" Seth's voice is suddenly the same too chipper voice Ryan used to wave off and try to tune out in the morning, when he had just woken up.
Ryan blinks, turning around to look at Seth still looking at the floor. "What?"
But Seth doesn't answer, because lately, Seth doesn't really answer when a question is asked. Seth babbles, and he does. "There's so much, so much, so much. There's so much going on." Seth chuckles, shaking his head, almost happy to hear his own voice. "So much. So much. So much."
Ryan nods, not certain what else to do. He can listen to Seth and nod and try to grasp at straws, as if understanding, but that's all he can do.
"He's here," Seth says, suddenly, sitting down with a flop and turning to look around, over his shoulder and to his back, and then back around, eyes not focusing on one point for more than a second. "He's here. He's always here. He won't leave me alone. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. He won't leave me." Seth looks up, brown eyes big and trembling and Ryan fears Seth might cry and then Ryan might not make it out of the room at all. "Why won't he leave me?"
"Oh, baby," Ryan says, his voice dropping to a tender tone he hadn't known he possessed, not until a few months ago when Seth got really bad, and it seemed to be the only tone to actually get through to Seth. The word of endearment was a shock, too, at that time, and then it became so very easy for Ryan to say.
He closes the space and kneels down by Seth's form and takes Seth’s hand in his. He pets it, lovingly, looking into brown eyes that used to haunt his dreams and now haunt his every waking hour.
"He's not here," He breathes out, softly, leaning forward as telling Seth a secret.
Seth shakes his head, forcefully, pulling back his hand. "No, no, no. You don't know him. You haven't seen him. But he's here." He makes a hushing sound, looking over his shoulder once again. "I can't see him. I can see him, not now, but I can see him."
"Seth--"
"He's always here. You don't get it." Seth shakes his head, throwing himself onto the floor, face down.
There are more words coming out of Seth's mouth, muffled by the padding and Ryan sighs, not being able to hear them, let alone follow Seth's train of thought. It's too much, to try and understand. God, so fucking much.
"He's already here." Ryan looks down at Seth as he turns his head around, looking straight head, at some point by Ryan's knees. "They are all here."
Ryan fears to ask. "Who are they?"
"She likes pink. She's always liked pink. I don't know why. I never asked. I should have asked."
And then Seth goes off again, on a tangent, for a reason Ryan can't quite describe.
"She likes dresses, too." Seth's not moving, only talking, like someone has pressed the play button and they don't know how to turn off the TV, how to play mute again. There's no explanation, just words, coming out of Seth's mouth a mile per hour. "I never saw her with something that wasn't a dress. She likes dresses. And pony tails. And playing with me. She always plays with me."
"Who?" But the question goes unnoticed.
"I didn't use to be afraid of them. I didn't. They were my friends. My friends, my friend, my friends. I liked them." He's nodding, biting down on his lower lip, almost trembling. "I really liked them. They were my friends. Yes, yes, they were my friends, but then..."
Ryan tilts his head. This is the longest this particular tale has ever gotten. "Then what?"
"They were my friends," Seth repeats, eyes closing. "He doesn't like me anymore. They don't like me. I don't like them either, but they didn't like me first. I don't know. They don't like me. I like me. I like me and I like them and I like us and I like me. They don't like me."
Ryan sighs. That was the most rational explanation he had ever gotten, and then it was gone, lost, and Seth's memory can't seem to grasp the thought any longer.
"Can you hear that?"
Ryan blinks, trying to follow Seth’s train of thought. He's certain Seth asked that before. "What?" He asks, leaning forward, shaky smile on his lips but a smile nonetheless. "What, sweetie, what can you hear?"
Seth turns around, looks at him, straight at him, eye to eye, for one brief moment. "The sound of waves."
Ryan closes his eyes in pain, shut so tight his head actually starts hurting. His hand goes over his mouth to stop himself from crying out loud, from screaming and demanding that the man he walked into this center is returned to him because this person right fucking here is not him.
"I can hear it," Seth says as he tilts his head before dropping it back to the floor, ear against the white padding, palms open on either side of his face. "I can hear it. The sound of waves. They are here. The waves. They are here, with them. They are all here. I like them. I like them and they like me. I used to be them. I used to be the waves."
Ryan nods, slowly, idly, trying to make sense of what Seth's saying. The waves? The water. He used to love the water. He probably got that from Sandy, though Sandy surfs. Seth, well, Seth is more of a sailing kind of guy.
"Yes, you like them." Ryan smiles at Seth, his hand reaching forward to run his fingers through Seth's curls. They are all in a tangle, have been lately. Seth doesn't comb his hair anymore. "You always liked the water."
"I miss them."
Ryan nods, the smile quivering inside him. "Yes, and I'm sure they miss you." He takes a leap forward and dares to say what he thought would never be spoken. "I miss you, sweetie, you know? I miss you so much. I miss having you at the house, I miss having breakfast with you." His voice lowers to barely a whisper and there are tears in his voice along with his eyes. "I miss you and I think maybe--"
"I like the waves, the sound of the waves and the water and the... and the other thing and I like it and..." When Seth turns around to look at Ryan, he frowns, tilts his head and speaks, "Who are you?"
Ryan lets out shaky sigh, reaches out and touches Seth's cheek with his fingertips. Seth doesn't oppose, doesn't say anything, probably barely even feels the touch or knows what it means.
"I miss you," Ryan whispers once again and Seth nods.
"Yes, yes, I like the waves and you do too, right?"
Ryan nods. "Of course, sweetie. Of course. I like you." His smile falls down off his lips. "You used to like me."
"They don't like me," Seth says, starting his tirade once again, sitting down with a jump and Ryan retreats his hand from Seth's cheek. "They are here. All of them. He brought more. Why did he bring more? They’re here, all of them. Here. Here. Here. Here. I don't... he promised. I promised and he promised. He promised he wouldn't hurt him. He promised and I thought..."
"Who promised what, sweetie?" Ryan leans forward, eyes catching Seth's for a moment before they start darting from one point to another.
Seth shakes his head, trembling, arms around himself as he crawls away, pushing himself with his feet, until his back touches the wall. He hides his face in between his raised knees and starts whimpering.
Oh, god.
"Seth," Ryan says, following him and placing one hand delicately on Seth's shoulder, afraid to startle him. But the touch doesn't seem to get through the maze in Seth's brain, around it and clouding him. "It's okay, sweetie. It's okay. Everything is fine. I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you. Nothing will happen to you."
"Nothing?"
Ryan smiles more calmly and nods once again. He scoots closer and Seth seems to understand him, understand at least this much from Ryan. Seth relaxes against Ryan's chest, sighing softly and hiding his face in the crook of Ryan's neck. Ryan places his arms around him, tightly, and bites down on his lower lip. Not the moment for tears. Not now.
"I love you," Ryan whispers, his hand touching Seth's hair. "I've loved you for so long."
"I love you too," Seth says, sighing and closing his eyes.
Ryan's heart does a leap inside his chest before he tells himself Seth doesn't know what he's saying half the time. This is probably one of those times, as much as Ryan wishes it wasn't.
Minutes tick by and as Ryan becomes certain that Seth has fallen asleep, Seth stirs, looking up and around him, pressing himself tighter against Ryan's shoulder. Ryan understands and tightens his arms around Seth.
"It's ok."
"They are all here."
"Who?" Ryan doesn't expect an answer, and he's more surprised when he gets one.
"Christopher."
Ryan blinks, surprised that the name has reappeared once again. At times, Ryan wonders if he isn't someone Seth used to know, maybe even dated, and it's the mark that guy has left behind that makes Seth behave like this.
"He's here." Seth closes his eyes, forehead against Ryan's collarbone. "And he's not alone."
Out of impulse, Ryan turns around, looking over shoulder and all around the room. It's empty, as he suspected. It's completely empty. There's nothing but white padding and a silence that makes Ryan long for Seth's voice.
"We're alone. Seth, there's no one--"
Seth shakes his head. "That's what he wants you to believe. He... he's here. They all are."
Ryan bites down on his lower lip again, trying to come up with a question that might get an answer in Seth's foggy brain. "Who... who are they?"
"I don't know them," Seth says, slowly, looking up at Ryan with a frown on his face. "Never met them. But they are here. All of them."
Ryan frowns. "Who’s them? And how many?"
"Too many." Seth sighs, lowering his gaze. "Seventeen. I don't know them. Only know two of them."
Go on, Seth. Please. Just... "Who?" Ryan asks, with a tilt of his head and a raised eyebrow.
Seth blinks, pauses and takes a deep breath. Ryan's heart seems to stop as Seth says, "Molly. And Murray."
Ryan's breath catches in his throat. He's heard those names before. He's heard them, from Seth's lips, in one of his many nightmares in the months before the incident. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to remember Seth's almost feverish dreams, the words he used to mutter.
"Don't do that, Molly."
Ryan nods to himself. Yes, yes, that was Seth. That's what he said.
"Don't do that. I like you Molly. I thought you liked me."
Ryan thought Seth had been dreaming about a girl he used to know, or someone he met in his classes. Ryan never asked, would forget to by the next morning. He'd forget the moment he'd get back to his bed from having a glass of water and passing through Seth's bedroom in the process, hearing the muttered words.
"Go, Murray. Go. Go and don't tell Christopher."
"Who else is here?"
Seth turns around, looks over Ryan's shoulder and presses his face to Ryan's neck, tightly, his quick breath hot against Ryan's collarbone. Ryan shudders involuntarily.
"I don't know them," Seth says again, shaking his head. "God, I don't know them. I never met them. They are friends of Christopher. He's... he's..."
"What, Seth?" Ryan can't remember the last time Seth made this much sense, was able to lace words together into sentences that could actually be understood. "What?"
"He wants to scare me," Seth whispers before shaking his head.
Ryan rocks the two of them, back and forth until Seth stops trembling in his arms and he feels cold and damp against his throat. He sighs, tightens his hold on Seth and places a kiss on Seth's head. "It's okay. It's okay sweetie. I'm here. I'll protect you," Ryan says, though he's not certain exactly what he's supposed to protect Seth from.
When Seth's breathing becomes regular and Ryan thinks he might have calmed down, finally, Seth looks up and takes a peak over Ryan's shoulder once again. There's a quiet scream coming from his lips before his hands hold on tightly to Ryan's forearms, making him hurt, and he starts crying once again. "Stop it. Stop it."
Seth's voice is barely a whisper and Ryan looks over his shoulder to the other side of the room. There's nothing. There's always nothing.
"Make it stop. Please, make it stop. Oh, god, Ryan, please. Make them stop. They are--"
Ryan's hand on Seth's chin, Ryan forces him to look up, to meet his eyes even as his brown eyes are brimming with tears and his lower lip trembles. "What did you say?" Ryan takes a deep breath. "What did you call me?"
Seth frowns, confused, then rests his forehead against Ryan's chin. "Please, Ryan, please. Make them stop. I can hear them. They are... make them stop."
Ryan sighs, the back of his forehead, somewhere inside him, his mind is giving up, giving in, and he sighs once again. His eyes sting and he lowers his face, cheek against Seth's damp hair, and he nods. "Yes, everything you want, sweetie. I'll keep you safe."
"Don't go."
"I’ll never go."
"Don't leave me."
"I couldn't."
Seth looks up, his voice childlike and his lower lip trembling and his eyes bright red from the tears he isn't shedding. "You promise?"
Ryan bites down on his lower lip, letting go of Seth's shoulder long enough to wipe his cheek with the back of his hand, and he nods. Brown eyes look at him, really look at him, recognizing him and that's enough to make Ryan's heart stop and beat again a moment later. God, this is what he had been missing: recognition.
"I love you," Ryan says before his resolution wavers. If he can't protect Seth from himself, then at least he can protect Seth from the outer world. "I promise, yes," he says, his voice trembling as his cheeks heat up. "I won't leave you."
Seth nods, seeming not to have heard Ryan, or if he has, the words only calm him down. He sighs, finds a comfortable place with his cheek against Ryan's collarbone, his lips against Ryan's pulse and in a moment, Ryan can feel him relaxing. Sleeping.
Ryan sighs, shifts only enough to rest his back against one white wall and relaxes as well. He'll keep Seth safe, for as long as Seth needs him to. That much Ryan can do. Closing his eyes, in between the place of awake and asleep, Ryan thinks he hears muttered words and soft sighs.
After a moment, not certain how long, Ryan blinks himself awake. He yawns, looking down at Seth asleep on his chest. Ryan sighs, shifting his hand from Seth's shoulder to touch the back of his neck, up through his curls, and caresses his cheek. The story, the brief words and sentences he was able to coax out of Seth, return to the forefront of Ryan's mind and he lifts his gaze from Seth's bent head. There's no one around them, not one of the seventeen people -- are those even people? -- Seth had thought he had seen in the room.
Ryan sighs, shifting as he realizes he can't feel his leg, and that’s enough to let him know they might have been there for more than the moment he was certain he had closed his eyes. He shakes his head, telling himself once again that it is the schizophrenia, it has nothing to do with real people, because as far as Ryan knows, there was never anyone called either Christopher or Molly or Murray in their old apartment.
God, he misses that old place. After graduation, after starting to work at the Newport Group full time, there was no point in keeping that two-bedroom apartment three minutes away from campus and forty from work. Ryan put everything in boxes and moved both his and Seth's things from that place to another one, barely bigger if only in a better neighborhood. Seth's new room looks exactly like the old one, the window on the left side of the room now only on the right.
And then, of course, he remembers. Not that he'd ever forget.
Ryan
How long has it been since Ryan last heard his name from Seth's lips? A week? A month? He sighs, leaning back until his head touches the padding. Sixty-three days, actually. Since the last time he asked about the new Legion and if Ryan could bring it in the next time he came to visit. That was the last time Seth's thoughts, if put together in a ramble, made some sense. After that Sunday, the next Tuesday afternoon, Seth would barely give him a second glance, let alone speak more than ten words before pausing and turning to look out the window. Seven days before the last incident, and then Seth was moved to this bare room.
And maybe, Ryan thinks, looking down at the top of Seth's head, maybe the fact that he finally remembered, maybe this means Seth is getting better. Maybe his brain has gotten tired of the cloud over and around him, and has decided to let itself be seen.
Oh, God, please. Please let it be that. His hand trembles slightly as he brushes his fingers against Seth's cheek. I love you, Ryan thinks, his lips barely parting though no word are able to leave the tightness of his throat. I love you so much.
Minutes tick by, Ryan's not certain how many, but he enjoys each and every one of them while he watches Seth sleep, something he hasn't done in almost two years. He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and remembers the last time they went to see a horror movie and Seth ended up bunking with him. He starts to wonder how long they can stay like this, with no cares in the world, like there's no one else but each other, when Seth stirs. Ryan hears him yawn and shift in his seat before looking up at Ryan.
His breath catches in his throat, his chest tightens and the corners of his lips curl upward against his better judgment as he looks down at big brown eyes, making him remember that there is only one thing -- one person -- that matters to him in this world. "Would you like to go home?"
The words leave Ryan's lips before he realizes what he's saying, and it takes him a moment to understand the meaning of his words. That moment gone, he knows that's exactly what he wants. To take Seth back home, to their new apartment, and find a way to make theirs, Seth's, life work around the schizophrenia, because there has to be a way.
If there's not, Ryan's decided mind offers, probably the side that's not quite logical, but very much in love, I'll find a way. If there isn’t, I'll make one. I'll break rock with my bare hands to form a way.
Seth blinks, confused Ryan notices, and Ryan smiles, nodding as he does so.
"Do you wanna go home?" Ryan asks, again, his breath almost catching in his throat. For a moment, he wonders if Seth even remembers what happened only minutes ago, if he remembers the words the promises, if he remembers the na--
And then Seth smiles, and his eyes brim with tears threatening to fall. "Yes," Seth answers, nodding and sniffing, "God, yes, Ryan. Please. I don't want to be here anymore."
That's enough for Ryan, no more encouragement needed. "Okay. I just need a minute."
Against his better judgment, Ryan places his hands on Seth's shoulders and shifts slightly, giving him enough room to stand up. Seth stands up after him, hands gripping Ryan's forearm. "Where are you going?"
There's more than a touch of fear in Seth's tone and it makes Ryan want to embrace him once again. Instead, Ryan smiles and touches Seth's shoulder. His hand pauses as it reaches Seth's collarbone. "I have to make arrangements," he says, softly, taking a deep breath. "But we're going home Seth, I promise you."
Seth nods and with a trembling hand, he lets go of Ryan's arm. "I know. You've always kept your promises."
Ryan pauses for a second as he's turning around, hearing Seth's statement, before catching his step and making his way to the door. He knocks on it twice before it's opened by Nurse Soplin. She gives him a sad glance and Ryan turns around with a snort under his breath.
You don't know us. You don't know a damn thing, he thinks bitterly as he decides not to listen to the logical side of his brain telling him this has nothing to do with the woman.
"My cell phone."
The nurse looks at him as she makes her way past to the nurse’s station. She seems to be deciding what to say, if to say anything at all, before sighing and opening the right drawer.
Ryan waits, not as patiently as he would have in any other given situation, trying to come up with a plausible explanation.
He wants to go. He's better now. You should have seen him. He recognizes me. He knows my name.
Each more pathetic than the other, but all true. Seth asked to leave, and he's not there against his will. It was nothing like that. And he's better now, if only for moments at a time. Maybe it's all the medication, Ryan thinks. All those pills Seth has to take. Three with each meal and two more at midmorning. Different colors and different specifications, but all clouding Seth's mind.
Ryan practically snatches the cell phone from the nurse's hands and turns away, making his way down the hallway to find some privacy. He hits speed dial and it’s on the second ring that she answers.
"Hello?"
"Kirsten, I--"
"Ryan, sweetie. I was going to call you. There's a problem with--"
"Seth wants to come home."
That makes Kirsten pause. There's no sound on her end of the line. No breathing, no whispering, no nothing. Ryan's heart seems to wait for her permission to beat.
"What?"
Ryan lets out a soft sigh. "I talked with him."
"Ryan, honey--"
"And he talked, and he said--"
"You know him. He's not making any sense."
"No, no, Kirsten, you don't understand. He heard me and he answered--"
"At times, it seems like it." Her voice is entirely patronizing, and if she was here, with him, Ryan knows she'd be patting his shoulder. k
"No, you don't get it."
"I know what you're feeling."
"No, you don't!" Ryan's voice breaks, shaking his head, pausing for a moment. He closes his eyes shut, leaning his forehead against the wall, hand gripping the phone tightly. "You don't. You weren't there, Kirsten. You didn't find him in the bathroom. You didn't see him bleed and you haven't heard him." He takes a deep breath that turns into a sob. "God, Kirsten... He said my name."
And it might be pathetic, and simplistic, and not a valuable reason at all, but it's a reason. It's a word Ryan hasn’t heard Seth say in over two months, and that's more than enough for him to want to have Seth back.
"He said my name."
Ryan hears something on the other end of the line that might be a sigh. "He did?"
"Yeah," Ryan whispers back, and the awe and pain in his own voice takes him by surprise.
He doesn't know why, but he can almost see her, in his mind's eye. Her hand over her lips, pausing, thinking, remembering how her son used to look at her and how much she misses that recognition in his brown eyes.
"Look, I know it sounds stupid, but I know Seth, ok? I know how he looks, I know how he speaks and I very well know how he looks at me. And he..." he shakes his head, trying to put his thoughts into words. "He looked at me, a minute ago, and asked me to go home. He hates it here. I knew that, we both knew that since the beginning, but it was for the best. We thought that. But that's not true anymore."
And he has more words to tell her. He wants out. Seth wants to leave this and go back. We can make it. I can help him. We can find a dosage that won't kill him, even if it kills me. He has promises and vows to give her, and he's willing to, but she speaks before he can say anything else.
"He needs more help than last time." There's a pause, but her voice doesn't shake. "Constant vigilance, for a while, at least. Until he finds some sort of normality."
"I know."
"He'll need you."
Ryan knows. "I know."
Another deep breath. "Will you--?"
"I'll stay home. I'll be with him. I won't go back to work until he's fine, until I know he's fine and his doctor says he's fine. I'll be with him. I won't let him out of my sight."
Seth is first and foremost. Seth needs him, and Ryan won't let him get lost, not again, not like last time. Ryan takes a deep breath.
I miss him, Ryan thinks. I miss him and he's back. And Ryan will keep him safe and sound, just like he promised.
A shaky breath from Kirsten's end. "Okay. If you... if you think you can do it."
"I will. I can."
"Good."
And just like that, it's done. They'll take him home. Ryan will take him home.
Kirsten still has to tell Sandy, and she calls him back about fifteen minutes after Ryan hangs up with her. They've talked about it and Sandy wants Seth home as much as Ryan, and it's done. It's settled. There are papers to be signed, and every second of it seems like a year for Ryan. Every moment Seth's still in there, sitting, waiting for Ryan to come back and maybe fearing he won't, Ryan wonders about Seth's mental health.
Soon, though not soon enough, Ryan stands before the metal door and this time, when it opens, Seth's standing on the other side, hands gripping his forearms tightly, waiting. Ryan nods and Seth throws himself at Ryan, hugging as tight as he can. Ryan hugs Seth even tighter.
Within the next half an hour, Seth sits by Ryan's side in his Range Rover, a graduation present from Sandy and Kirsten, hands gripping the dashboard, almost in fear. Ryan extends his right hand and Seth takes it, gripping it just as tightly. Seth gives Ryan a small smile, and Ryan returns it, beaming, because Seth's here, with him, going home.
They can do this, Ryan thinks. They can do this. They are here, both of them, and Seth's here, and they can do this.
Ryan has enough faith for the both of them. And as he turns around the corner, both hands on the wheel, he doesn't see Seth looking at the back seat through the rearview mirror and sinking deeper into the seat, almost in fear.
The space between dream and reality
I think this is it. God. It has taken me so long to get this far in the story and I still have another piece to get done. *shakes head* Oh, God.
Anyway, it's here. And yes, I hurt Seth, but only slightly. *bounces* storydivagirl didn't like it. *giggles* Then again, she only likes it when I hurt Ryan.
Me going now. It's late and I really wanna go to bed. Take care. *s*