[oc] The things I already know (1/3)
I can't believe the day is already here (okay, I'm about one hour early, but right now I don't care *g*). I finished this story with plenty of time to spare. It was the wait that was killing me! *nods* Okay, that said, here it is!
Title: The things I already know
Author: M. F. Luder
Pairing: Ryan/Seth.
Rating: PG-13.
Word count: 26'000 words.
Category: Future fic. Pre-slash. Sophie fic. *g*
Challenge: For the Fourth Annual Sentence Fiction Challenge and everything that entitles. *nods*
Author's note: Betad by popmusicjunkie, who thinks I'm writing fluff now. *giggles* I love you, babe!
Written for 60schic: Sandy and Kirsten need to attend to 'an emergency', and drop 2 year old Sophie off with Ryan in his dorm room. It turns into an overnight event - - how will Ryan cope with a toddler?
Only, it's not overnight. And Sophie is way much younger, and Seth's there. So, hmm, not really what you asked for? *g*
Part one | Part two | Part three
The things I already know
I.
Ryan pinches the bridge of his nose, in between his eyes, feeling the back of his eyes start to hurt. He'd say it's the change of season if winter hadn't started almost a month ago. Stupid sinuses acting up and all that, he thinks, squeezing in between his eyes for another second before looking up at the professor, at the PowerPoint presentation.
He writes down the equation of the Finesse Model down on the stack of printed PowerPoint slides that the professor left at the student center earlier today. He tells himself that he really needs to get the book the teacher suggested, the book the teacher himself wrote, "Topics on Technology of Concrete." He remembers hearing Charlie say that Pasquel, the teacher, has a thing about asking questions that can only be answered by reading his book. He'll have to get copies of old exams, make sure he knows what the man can ask on the midterm.
Pasquel starts talking about the ratio between water, cement and sand when his cell phone starts vibrating. Ryan takes out his cell from his pocket, looking at the caller ID.
Kirsten's cell, it says, and he blinks at the liquid screen for a second. Kirsten knows better than to call him during the day, considering he has classes up until almost six almost every day. She usually calls him at night, hoping to not disrupt him in case he's at the library. He frowns even as Tatiana nudges him on the side.
"Who is it?" She asks, leaning to his side, reaching for the cell phone and turning it around so she can see the screen. "Kirsten? Is that the girl who gave you her number during Resistance? I know she was hitting on you. She was like a four by four, she was so fucking obvious."
Ryan rolls his eyes. "Her name was Paola, and no, that's not her. This is..." He trails off, as he tends to know when having to explain his family situation. Like Seth once said, they have a rather fucked up family. "She's..."
"Kirsten?" Tatiana says after a moment, a frown on her face. "Wait, your mom's name is Kirsten, right?"
He bites the inside of his cheek, thinks about Dawn for a passing second before nodding. He's grateful Tatiana has a knack for talking too much. He seems to draw in people like that.
She lets go of his arm, leaning back on her seat, looking at him. "You gonna answer it?"
He shakes his head, finishing the call with a click. He can't exactly leave the class. He's in the second row, Pasquel will notice if he leaves. "No, I'll call her back after this."
He places his cell on the table this time around, and tries copying what Tatiana wrote down. Her penmanship is like chicken scratches, and it takes half a miracle to actually understand what she wrote. She writes like Seth, and one would think three years of being in school with him would have taught Ryan how to decipher that kind of handwriting, and yet--
The cell phone starts to vibrate again, making a knocking sound against the table, and Ryan snatches it before the whole classroom turns around to look at him. Pasquel pauses for a second, glancing over his shoulder, then clicks on the next slide to show the consequences of a poor cement and water proportion, cracks all along the corner of a wall.
He looks at the liquid screen and isn't surprise to see Kirsten's cell clear on the screen. He sighs, glances at Pasquel, showing what looks almost like mold on the concrete, before pushing his chair back and standing up quickly.
"Ryan!" Tatiana hisses loudly, and Ryan jerks his head to his right, where the classroom collides with the hallway.
He glances at Pasquel as he makes his way to the back of the classroom, to take the door furthest from the teacher. He walks out, and answers the call even as he's closing the door behind him as quiet as he can manage.
"Kirsten?"
"Hey, Ryan. I'm so sorry to call you right now. Are you in class?"
He smiles indulgently, turning around and looking at the door that leads to the very back of the classroom. He can almost hear Pasquel inside. "No, not anymore. What is it?"
Oh, God. I'm sorry, really. You know I'd never call at this time--"
"Unless something was wrong, yes. What happened?" And for a second all Ryan can think about is what must have happened for Kirsten to call at. He checks his watch, ten seventeen on a Wednesday morning. "Is everyone okay, did something--?"
"It's not much, really. Just." He can hear her pause, and only now realizes that her breathing is ragged, as if she's been running. "Where are you exactly?"
Ryan frowns. "At Davis Hall."
"Yes, I remember the name of your department. Just, where--?"
"First floor, on the east side of the building. Classroom B-103." Ryan turns around, glancing at the corner of the building. The sun hits his face and he has to cover his eyes with his hand. "Kirsten, what--?"
"Okay, okay. B... Just give me one second--"
"Kirsten--"
Ryan pauses, eyes narrowed at the corner of the building, and a second later Kirsten's turning around it, Sophie in her arms and a diaper bag thrown over one shoulder, car seat in her other hand. He can't help but blink, and close the cell phone as Kirsten does the same.
He makes his way toward her, and Kirsten shifts to cradle Sophie against her chest before leaning forward and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He's too surprised to even complain about it.
"Ryan, I'm so sorry to spring this on you--" She says, placing the car seat on the floor.
"No, no, it's okay," he says, glancing between Kristen and Sophie, who's sitting in the crook of Kirsten's arm, turning around as if trying to see the whole building from that one small spot. "What happened, I mean--"
Kirsten waves it off with one hand, a mannerism he has seen Seth do before, and knows he got that from her. "Sandy. Remember how I told he went up to Miami on Monday, to visit Sophie for a while." The Nana, she means, and he knows. She sighs, running a hand through her hair, juggling Sophie as she does so. Ryan has it in his mind to actually reach for the baby. "He went to the beach, to surf for a while."
Ryan nods, and he can imagine. Sandy wouldn't be Sandy if he didn't surf in any of the beaches he comes across. "Yeah?"
"He had a bad fall. No, no, he's okay," Kirsten hurries to reassure him when his breath catches in his throat, and can almost feel himself paling. "Just a bad fall, bruised his back. He's still in the hospital, was when Sophie called me an hour ago. I just," she says, shifting baby Sophie from one arm to the other. "I need to go over there, make sure he's fine. I can't possibly leave Sandy under his mother's care. He'd kill me if I did that," she says with a small smile.
"Sure, yeah. I get it. I just don't know where I--?"
"Oh," Kirsten smiles at him, apologetically, and he has seen this smile before. It's the very same smile Seth has given him whenever he wanted something he knew Ryan would refuse. He's always had a weakness for that smile. "I can't take Sophie with me. She's only eight months old, and she could get sick on the plane. I'd rather she wouldn't travel so young."
Ryan nods, slowly, and the way Kirsten looks up from Sophie and then at him, he gets it. In that second, he gets it. This is where he comes in. He gazes down at the hallway, to where his class is still in progress, at least for another half an hour. "I can take care of her today, I think." He thinks about his Technology of Concrete lab this afternoon, and figures he'll manage, one way or the other. "I mean, if it's just for today--"
"Yes, yes, only today." Kirsten sighs in relief, leaning close and giving him a one arm hug, Sophie pressed against his shoulder for a second. She squeals in delight, her hands reaching to grab a hold of Ryan's hair. Kirsten leans back before Sophie can get manage to hold on to his short hair. "We'll be back late tonight, but tonight. I've booked us on the 8pm flight back, and I should be picking her up around nine probably? You sure you can? I'd leave her with the babysitter, but she has chicken pox of all things. Dora still has a good three weeks before she's past the contagious zone, and I wouldn't want to risk Sophie."
"It's okay," Ryan says, nodding, smiling down at Sophie. She opens and closes her hands at him, and he takes her from Kirsten. Kirsten slides down the diaper bag from her shoulder, handing it to him. It takes him a moment to figure out the mechanics of having a baby in one arm and the bag on the other. "Don't worry." He shifts Sophie a little on his arm, and she giggles, starting to drool. He can't help but smile at her. "We'll be fine, right kiddo? We'll be just fine until Kirsten gets back."
Kirsten smiles at him, then kisses Sophie on the cheek and Ryan as well, picking up the car seat and handing it to him. He looks down at Sophie in one arm, baby bag over the other, and Kirsten smiles and places the car seat back on the floor. "Thought you might need it," she says as an explanation. "I'll call you as soon as I land, and then when I know more about Sandy."
He nods, lets her kiss him one more time before turning around to make her way back down where she came from. He sighs, looks down at Sophie, who scrunches up her face and reaches over his shoulder, toward where Kirsten was only a second ago. She makes grabby motions with her hands, and then scrunches up her face even more. Please don't cry. Please don't cry.
She doesn't, by some sort of miracle, instead turns around and looks at him. He's been going home almost every week since classes began, almost five months ago. She knows him. He plays with her sometimes, picks her up when she looks bored. She's a quiet child, and he really likes her, and can almost imagine her liking him as well, she just isn't used to being with him that much.
"Okay, so, what do we do now?"
She looks back at him as if wanting to snort but not being able to just yet. He smiles at her, shifts her as she starts sliding down his arm, and then tries to come up with a way to pick up the car seat without dropping her. He can't. He sighs and settles for sitting on the floor on the step that leads down to the gardens around the building. It can't be more than twenty minutes until the end of class. He can wait for Tatiana here, then ask her to pick up his things and find a way to either get to his dorm and hide there until Kirsten comes back for Sophie, or talk with Mark, the TA in his lab, and find a way to do his laboratory with a baby in his arms.
He sits her on his leg, placing the bag on the floor next to him. He didn't get around to ask Kirsten if Sophie had eaten, or been changed, but assumes that she has, to both accounts. He wonders if he could do the laboratory with Sophie, if she's really quiet and allows him to actually measure cement, water, sand and rock to make the ratio needed for the concrete in his lab, and then put it in probes to test for resistance to traction and compression.
He looks down at her, and she scrunches up her face and wails.
Turns out, Sophie? Not really a quiet child. At all. And she apparently has entire hidroneumatic bombs instead of lungs, the way she just keeps crying and screaming without even pausing for a breath.
Five hours later, he's locked himself up in his single dorm room, Sophie in his arms, walking down the small space in between the bed, the dresser and the mini-fridge Kirsten got him when he moved in here. She hasn't stop crying. At all. In four hours. Three people have already come to his room to knock on the door and demand that whatever it is he has inside, he shuts it up. The first time, Ryan opened the door, showed the screaming baby to the guy on the other side -- someone from down the hallway, Ryan recognized -- who still has her cheeks damp from all the crying, the shirt she's wearing soaked from tears and spit and drool. When unceremoniously shown to the stunned guy, it felt as if Sophie was screeching loud enough to crack the small window in his room.
The guy had lifted his hands in peace offering and left without a word. That had been three hours ago. She hadn't stopped, not even long enough to take the bottle of milk, or water, or juice that Ryan offered. Nor to sleep, no matter how many times Ryan had tried to put her down on his bed.
One guy and one girl came after that stupid guy. And all Ryan had to do was show the baby to them for them to leave without a word. But right now? Ryan's ready to kill himself if Sophie doesn't stop crying. His right arm's numb, because Ryan can't put her down without her seeming to raise the decibel level that humans can hear, let alone produce. His left arm is way beyond numb, he could lose it and not notice. It has started to hurt, from the shoulder down to his fingers, and now his shoulder blades are joining in on the pain. And Sophie. Will. Not. Stop. Crying.
"Please, please, Sophie. Just..." He sighs, shifts Sophie from his left arm to his right, and runs one hand over his face. His left hand shakes from the strain, and the pain and everything in between. "God, Sophie. Just another couple of hours and I swear, I swear your mommy will be back and I'll make sure I don't ever reproduce, okay?"
She doesn't listen to him, only seems to pause for a second to look at him. He wonders if maybe, just maybe, she has found herself tired, but then she opens her mouth wide and continues wailing, not matter how Ryan tries to rock her on his feet.
"I'm sure she'll calm down in an hour or so," Kirsten had said when she called after she had landed in Miami and he told her that Sophie would not stop crying.
Back then, early afternoon, he had still believed in happiness and fairness and a child that would be silent come the next hour. Hell, he had even believed that maybe if Sophie cried then, come three in the afternoon and his three hour lab, he might manage to put Sophie in her car seat and sleep though his lab, so he wouldn't miss it and end up having to talk to the teacher about doing the lab with the Friday class. Now, lab long gone, as long as Sophie doesn't cry for ten minutes, he'd be happy. And maybe even sane.
He sighs, sits down on the bed and Sophie doesn't change decibels this time around, just continues the unstoppable crying, so he figures he's safe. He places a pillow against his back and leans back, closes his eyes and tries to find his happy place. He shifts Sophie until she's resting against his chest, comfortable as he can manage. Sophie cries straight through his shirt.
Ryan starts shoving piece of clothing after piece of clothing inside his backpack until he knows he can't fit even another t-shirt and then zips it up. He didn't even take the time to take out the papers he photocopied before going to Technology of Concrete, but he doesn't care. Sophie keeps on screaming. He glances at the clock, and a little after five. Six hours and counting, then. He sighs, runs a hand over his damp forehead and can feel the back of his neck starting to ache.
He picks up his backpack, sliding it over his right shoulder, along with the diaper bag. He picks up Sophie with his left and walks out of the dorm room. People start looking at him funny -- mostly at the squealing baby in his arms -- as he makes his way down the hallway and he hurries his pace. He shifts Sophie, tries to coo to her but she doesn't pay attention, it's almost as if she can't hear him.
He places her blanket over her, covering the back of her head, one arm curled around her back, the other hand holding her face against his chest. Berkeley's nights get chilly and the last thing he needs is her catching a cold.
He's not really in the mood to wait for the elevator, so he goes down the three flights of stairs, thinking it'll be good exercise for his legs, considering his arms have been doing nothing but lifting weight -- sixteen pounds, last time he heard -- all day long. He walks out of the dorm building, toward the parking lot.
He reaches his car, and it takes him a moment to handle opening the backseat without actually dropping Sophie. He throws the baby bag and his backpack on the backseat and glares at the car seat. Okay, he has to set it. Now. He can't drive home with Sophie on his lap. He runs his free hand through his hair, but hurries to place it on Sophie's back as she starts wiggling in his arms, as if trying to get away from him.
"Just give me a minute and I'll have you settled in your seat, okay?" Ryan says to her, trying to shift her onto his hip without losing hold of her.
She keeps on wiggling, her little arms flailing around, hitting him on his chest. He pulls her away from him for a second, looking down at her, his eyes narrowed. "You have one hell of a right hook, you know?"
She drools at him. He sighs, feeling tired of all sudden. God, one eight month baby and it feels like he's run a freaking marathon. He shifts her again, and this time she incorporates feet kicking to her repertoire.
He groans, loud, his eyes closing, and tightens his hold on her for a second. She stops crying, and starts whimpering instead, and Ryan loosens his hands around her, looking right at her. Her eyes are red and puffy, her cheeks blotchy from all the crying. He should really to get her into something else, considering her shirt is really wet now. And God, she looks so miserable, even after everything she's put him through in the last six hours, his heart breaks for her.
He lets go of her blanket and instead places her against his chest, and she hides her face in the crook of his neck. For a moment, she stops crying and whimpering and hitting him. For a moment, she just breathes in and out. Ryan hadn't even noticed how her crying was giving him a headache until she stopped.
With her settled, at least for now, he can get the car seat settled in the backseat of his sedan, and her on it in under ten minutes. He secures the seatbelts, makes sure they are fastened right, and stands straight by the side of the car. She starts crying with renewed passion.
"Sophie, Sophie," he says, leaning inside the car, cradling her face in his hands, touching her soft hair. "Sophie, baby, please, what's wrong with you? Kirsten says you're fine but I swear to God it's not natural for a baby to cry this much."
She closes her hands into tiny fists and flails so much, she catches him on the cheek, hard. He stands back, rubbing his cheekbone with the palm of his hand, his eyes beginning to sting. Fuck, she certainly has a right hook.
"Not nice, Sophie," he says under his breath, closing the door with his elbow as he does so. "Not nice."
Ten minutes later he's already on his way to the Cohen house, and when he pauses at a red light, he can't help but close his eyes and lean his head forward, forehead against the steering wheel.
A couple more days, Kirsten had said when she had called, almost half an hour ago. Sandy's fine, and Ryan's grateful for that, but he isn't fit to travel. So they have to stay there. For a couple more days. And they can't possibly take Sophie to Miami so someone has to take care of her. He groans again, and Sophie quiets down for a second before continuing to cry.
A couple more days. How the hell is he going to take care of Sophie, alone, for days? And a second later he thinks about his classes, everything he'll miss.
He flips open his cell phone even as he hits the gas and glances at Sophie through the rearview mirror. Her mouth is wide open, and Ryan fears for the windows in the car.
"Hello."
"Hey, Tatiana." He takes the phone with his left hand, trying to get it as far away from Sophie as possible, to actually hear Tatiana.
"Wait, wait. Is that your sister? Oh my God. Is she still screaming? Like, still? It's been like ten hours."
Six, but who's counting. "Look, I need to ask you a favor." He grimaces as he turns right, and Sophie seems to complain about his lack of focus on the road. "I need you to--"
He can hear her laughing on the other end of the line, even through Sophie's crying. "Oh, God. I need to call Eve. Oh, and Claire just lost ten bucks, my God she's gonna love that."
"Ten bucks? What are you--?"
"Eve bet Claire that your sister would scream her head off most of the day. Claire said she wouldn't. Then again, Claire's an only child. Poor thing. Even I know better."
Ryan snorts. Right. These are his friends. "Tatiana, I swear to God--"
"My God, are you killing her, is that why she's screaming like that? Have you kidnapped her? What the fuck are you doing to that kid, Ryan, and how come the police haven't pulled you over? Are they fucking deaf?"
"Tatiana, just shut up for one minute!"
Sophie does not take to the raise of his voice. Actually, she complains in the only way she knows how. He grimaces, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his holding the phone. He can hear Tatiana laughing.
Sophie hates his guts, plain and simple. She knows the Cohens have written him up in their will and she hates that she'll get one third instead of half. That has to be it. Or she has been possessed or something, because by God, Ryan's certain someone is killing her in the back seat even if he can't see anyone else but her.
"She doesn't have lungs!" Tatiana says in between bouts of laughter. "She's not human! She isn't, she isn't!"
He can almost imagine her falling down to the floor, the way she's laughing. He's seen it only once before. He had thought she was crazy back then, but then he'd remembered Seth's unstoppable ramblings and figured maybe he just attracts weird people like that.
"Look, I need you to actually write everything the teacher says tomorrow, okay? And maybe a couple of days after that too."
That makes her stop in mid laughter. "What? Ryan, did something--?"
"No, everything's fine." He sighs, glancing at Sophie once again. Except for the child screaming her head off in his back seat, of course. "It's just... it's Sandy, he--"
"Your dad, right?"
His brow furrows before nodding, even though she can't see him. "Yeah, him. He had a bit of an accident and Kristen had to go to Miami and now I have to take care of Sophie."
"Oh, crap. Ryan. So very sorry. I hope your dad's okay. Yeah, don't worry. I'll talk to the professors. I'll talk to Mark, tell him you'll send him an email? To explain? I'm sure you can make up for your lost lab."
"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks." He pauses at the next corner before taking the interstate, and sighs. "Look, I gotta go. Call me on my cell if you need me."
"Cool. Don't worry. Oh, and do try to spray holy water on her. I've been told that possessed people kinda shy away from it."
He can hear her laughing even as he hangs up the phone. He runs the back of his hand over his damp forehead, glances at Sophie one last time before clicking five in the speed dial.
Ryan doesn't think about how he hasn't seen Seth since Christmas, and before that, since Thanksgiving. He doesn't think about how they don't talk on the phone, about how they are almost strangers. It takes four whole rings before the line is picked up.
"Yeah?"
Ryan snorts. Apparently Seth doesn't check his caller ID, the asshole. "Seth, you better get your ass down here, or I'll swear to God I'll find a way to get to Providence to kick it for you."
Ryan finally hears the sound of a key being turned in the lock and the front door opening after midnight. He has Sophie in his arms, and though she's not screeching half out of her mind, she's not really sleeping either. She can't seem to decide between whimpering or crying at a decent volume.
"Ryan?"
Seth's whispered words only manage to make Ryan grind his teeth, making his way to the doorway that leads to the hallway and the front door. Seth closes the door silently behind him, backpack over one shoulder, hand holding a bag of take out on the other.
"Oh, thank God," Ryan breathes out, snatching the take out with the one hand that isn't cradling Sophie to his chest.
Seth blinks, taken back probably, but right now Ryan doesn't give a rat's ass. The last thing he ate was a pack of crackers he found in one of his jackets in his dorm room, almost seven hours ago, and before that, a lousy coffee and a bagel for breakfast. Right now, the two things he cares in the world are getting Sophie to sleep and food. And not even in that order at this point.
"Is she asleep?"
Ryan snorts as he makes his way to the kitchen, to place the boxes on the kitchen island. He turns around so as to let Seth see that Sophie is wide awake. "I wish."
He shifts her, and with thirteen hours and counting of him having her in his arms, he's starting to become a bit of an expert on this. He picks up a fork with one hand and tries rummaging into the bag and opening one of the boxes, any of the boxes, at the same time. He almost succeeds before Seth snatches one of the boxes and opens it, giving to Ryan.
Ryan has one arm around Sophie and the other hand is holding the fork. He glares at Seth and Seth smiles back at him sheepishly before placing the box on the counter. Ryan takes a seat on one of the stools -- and it reminds him the house in Newport, making something in his chest catch -- before pulling the box toward him with his fork. He plunges in even as he settles Sophie on his lap, her head resting comfortably on his collarbone.
She's settled for whimpering softly, almost under her breath. Now, looking at her, he wouldn't believe she can scream nonstop for almost seven hours if he hadn't seen it, and heard it himself. He finishes half the box of Chicken Teriyaki before he notices that Seth's sitting next to him, facing him, eating from the other box.
For a moment, he can see the den just behind Seth, the sun hitting his back through the French doors, smell the ocean in the air. And then blinks and the den and the sun and the ocean are long gone, and he has Sophie rubbing her face against his not quite dry t-shirt. He's suddenly not so hungry anymore.
"So, what happened? I mean, Mom told me you were staying with Sophie and all that--"
Ryan snorts, standing up, unable to stay sitting down. He shifts her to his right arm, which at least isn't numb anymore, glancing at his drooled left shoulder. "She told you Sandy can't travel?"
"Yeah, she called around five. She said she'd called you and told you already."
Ryan nods, pinching the bridge of his nose once again. His brain has long succumbed to the pain of his sinuses acting up, and it feels like his head is filled with cotton, along with his eyes. He doesn't know if that's just his sinuses or Sophie's doing.
"She did." He looks down at Sophie, her cheeks a bit damp but her eyes are closed this time around, and she's holding onto his shirt like it's the one thing keeping her awake. He'd take it off, if it were to do the trick. "She can't get back for a couple of days. And someone has to stay back and take of the baby."
He looks up at Seth, who looks back at him as if he's speaking Sanskrit or some weird shit like that. As if Seth doesn't know that Sophie is his sister too.
"I mean, she's calm enough. I can't believe she's that much work--"
Ryan sputters because he doesn't know how to reach for a plate and throw it at Seth's face without shifting Sophie too much. "That much work?" He hisses under his breath, glancing down at Sophie blabbering something under her breath. "She has been bawling nonstop since Kirsten left her with me--"
"I mean, I had to leave left Pancakes with Jen so--"
"Pancakes? Jen? What the fuck--?" He clams his mouth shut when he feels Sophie shifting on his chest.
"Jennifer's a friend from school. You don't know her."
He can't help but narrow his eyes and glare at Seth. Of course I don't know her, Seth. I don't even know who you are anymore.
"Dude, I left the comfort of my dorm room for this, so you better--"
His left hand closes down to a fist. "You left? I've missed class! Labs! I've missed a lab that actually has a fucking grade, Seth! I've been taking care of miss little two sets of lungs and another one to spare for the past twelve hours so don't you dare tell me--"
He forgot about Sophie on the verge of sleep and she reminds that she doesn't like her beauty sleep interrupted. She starts screeching at the top of her very tiny lungs and yet with enormous capacity, and after ten minutes of Ryan pacing around the living room and Sophie not letting up, Seth looks as surprised as Ryan felt ten hours ago. He can't help but give Seth a smug grin. "See what I'm talking about?"
Ryan lies Sophie down on the changing table, lifting her small shirt, pulling down her pants. He glares at the straps of the diaper on mere principal. He can't quite smell it yet, but he knows that if he leaves it on much longer, she'll get a rash and then he'll smell her and she won't let him forget it, at all. She's still crying, not quite bawling but letting tears run down her cheeks, kicking her feet on the air, punching her closed fists almost like she wishes she could reach him. Like this is Ryan's fault.
I'm not enjoying this anymore than you are, kiddo, he thinks, before grumbling under his breath. He pulls at the sticky parts of the straps, pulling down her diaper.
He hears Seth groan somewhere behind him. "My God, what did you feed her, Ryan? Mexican?"
Ryan glares at Seth over his shoulder, his jaw tight and his teeth clenched. He really doesn't mind the smell -- he doesn't even ask himself why. He holds one leg in each hand, pulling them apart, making sure he's not hurting her. He's more worried about how getting that diaper from under her before she ends up smearing that almost greenish stuff all over her bottom and legs and God knows where else.
He's seen Kirsten do this a million times, he's done it himself a couple, with Kirsten by his elbow, supervising, a comforting presence. He takes both of her ankles in his right hand, lifts her slowly, carefully, then pulls the diaper from under her with his left. He lets out a long sigh of relief when he doesn't make a mess out of it. He stretches his left hand to his side, and hears Seth groan and bitch under his breath.
"Hell, no. I'm not touching that thing. That's hazard, that's what it is."
Ryan rolls his eyes, wondering how he can roll the diaper into a ball without letting go of her legs. "Can you at least--?" He sighs, turning to look at Seth, who looks back at him with a grin that says he won't move a fucking finger. "Damn it, Seth. Just hold her legs like this, okay?" Seth seems to think about it before Ryan growls, "Seth."
Seth blinks, nods, takes a step forward and covers Ryan's hand with his own. Ryan swallows tightly, past the anger and everything he feels but doesn't, before sliding his fingers from underneath Seth's grasp.
He rolls the diaper, shoves it in the diaper genie and then turns around in the middle of the nursery. He should have looked for the diapers first, damn it. He finds them after a minute, and the baby wipes and the power he has to sprinkle on her bottom and he's pretty sure that's all there is.
Ryan place his hand over Seth's, and Seth lets go of Sophie like she's burning him. Ryan snorts, leaning forward to look at Sophie. She looks back at him with blue eyes tinged with red, face in a grimace, discomfort plainly written on her lips and scrunched up nose. Tears still leak from the corners of her eyes. The picture pulls something inside him, hard.
He cleans Sophie with the baby wipes, getting his fingers dirty but yet not caring, not squeamish about this for some reason. He checks she's clean twice, then runs a clean baby wipe over her bottom, just in case. He uses another clean one to wipe his own fingers. He sprinkles the talcum powder, a little more than necessary, and it doesn't turn into this gooey mass on her skin (unlike the first time), so he think he's done okay. Putting on the second diaper is a bit trickier, and it takes him two tries to do so (the first diaper, ripped at the sides, already in the diaper genie). When he's done, his neck hurts like he's sat eight hours in front of the computer, and his lower back seems to throb in time with his pulse, but he doesn't care because she's clean and only sniffling instead of crying. He'll take what he can get.
He hefts her to his arms, one hand on her back. He noses her hair, and she sniffles against the collar of his shirt, and he can't help but whisper, "It's okay, I've got you. I've got you."
Ryan shifts his hold on Sophie, right hand big enough to cover most of her back, and he rubs the back of his neck with his left one. The pain in his head has lowered to nothing but a dull throb, and though his eyes still feel as if they are filled with lead, at least his temples aren't being drummed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
He keeps on his slow pace of the nursery. It's only five steps long, and he's walked them so much tonight that half the time he doesn't even notice he's doing it. He glances down at Sophie, who isn't quite asleep but at least has her eyes closed. For a moment he considers trying to put her down in the crib, but the last four times he tried that, she started crying and almost screaming her head off, and it keeps taking Ryan longer and longer to calm her down.
He turns around one more time, and the clock says that it's after two and Sophie has probably been awake since six in the morning and if he's dying right now, how in the world is Sophie not entirely comatose? He sighs, and can't help but lean close to Sophie's face, his nose almost touching hers, feeling her breathing in and out slowly, in tandem.
The night is silent around him, only Sophie's soft sighs and Seth's quiet snores. He glances at Seth, sitting on the rocking chair because Sophie doesn't like it when he sits down. Seth, with his head thrown back, throat exposed and breathing in through his opened mouth as if his nose has clotted. He smiles, stupidly in a way, and remembers Seth falling asleep very much like that only, on the futon instead of the rocking chair. For a second it feels like he has been rushing to this point, through school today and then down the road, until now he can finally stand still and breathe.
He looks around him, around the house that now he calls home, if only because the Cohens live here instead of Newport. Newport will always hold a special place in him, the house he loved, the pool house he was able to call his. But now this is home, no matter where Dawn is, or how sporadic Frank's calls become. This is his home, and this is his family, the little girl in his arms and the stupid boy on that chair, and a couple clear across the country.
He takes in a deep breath, holds it in for a second, then lets it out slowly. Sophie seems to sigh with him, and Seth to shift on the chair. He smiles, rubbing his nose against Sophie's soft hair, blonde and so clear it's almost silver under the right light, and then turns to look at Seth. He smiles again, and it feels bittersweet inside him in a way. How long has it been since he last saw Seth? Not long, but it feels longer. It feels as if they haven't seen since they both left for college. Does it even matter?
Ryan sighs, and with one hand on Sophie's back, he crosses the distance to the rocking chair, and touches the toe of his boot to Seth's shin. Seth jumps back, a surprise gasp caught in his throat, and looks around. Ryan can't help but grin at the reaction.
"W'a--? Wh--?"
Ryan snorts, shaking his head before taking a step toward the nursery's doorway, maintaining the slow pace he has held so far. "Come on," he whispers under his breath, and can hear Seth standing up from the chair and joining him as he walks into their bedroom.
The Berkeley house has three rooms, and considering neither of them were actually going to spend much time in theirs, it was understandable they had to share. After all, Sophie being the girl, deserved to have her own bedroom. Ryan continues his pacing in the space between the two beds, and Seth makes his way to the one on the right straight away, only toeing off his shoes before getting under the covers.
Seth chose his bed the moment they walked into the bedroom, after the house was bought. Mine, Seth declared it, letting one of his boxes fall on top of the then stripped bed. Ryan had shrugged, taking the one on the left. It hadn't mattered to him anyway.
Ryan can see the corner of his backpack against the side of his bed, and Sophie gurgles something under her breath.
"Are you actually going to get some sleep?"
Ryan glances at Seth, glares at him and Seth raises his hands in the international sign for I didn't really mean what I said I was just trying to start conversation and I'm tired so it can't be my fault I'm ass. Or something. He rolls his eyes, shifts Sophie and looks longingly at the bed that has his name on it, his soft sheets and thick covers.
"Oh, to hell with it," he says under his breath, even as Seth turns around on the bed to look at him.
"What are you gonna--?"
And Seth kinda pauses there when Ryan makes his way to his own bed, toeing off his shoes and realizing there's no way in hell he's going to manage to take off his pants with one hand. And giving Seth the baby isn't going to work, because last time he went to the bathroom it really did sound like Sophie was being murdered.
"She's gonna scream, dude. You know--" Seth says in between a yawn.
And yeah, she might, but Ryan's been awake since a little before seven and it's now after two and his head it's not pounding but still hurts, and he wants nothing more than to lie down on his bed and get even an hour of shut eye. So he sits down on the bed, the pillows behind his back, and Sophie shifts and gurgles and opens her eyes at him.
"Shh," Ryan croons, his voice tired and nothing but a whisper, and Sophie scrunches up her face. Here it comes, he thinks, only she doesn't scream bloody murder, at least not this time around. She shifts again and he places both hands on her back, pulling her closer to him. He shimmies down on the bed, the pillow still on his back. She shifts with him but doesn't cry, doesn't even whimper.
They seem to hold their breath, waiting for Sophie's cries that don't come, and when Ryan sighs, he realizes he'd really been holding his breath. He pulls the pillow from behind his back, slowly, trying his best not to move her too much. He lies down on the bed, finally, and fears to try to pull the covers from under him. He's okay for now, anyway.
"She asleep?"
The words are barely even a breath, and Ryan turns around to look at Seth, his eyes wide in the dim light coming through the windows. He nods. "Yeah, I think so."
Seth nods, then shifts again and in within a minute, Ryan can hear the steadiness of Seth's breathing and know he's sleeping. About half an hour later, Sophie's down for the count too. He breathes out again, even more relieved than before, and manages to pull the sides of the covers over the two of them, enough that he won't be shivering within the hour.
His hands over her, keeping her close to his chest, he falls asleep as he feels her breathing against his chin.
No, I'm not ending it there. The story is just too long. *g* The two more parts coming up soon.
It's posted! And I know it's not all done yet, so wait for it. The other two parts are still at the beta, so, tomorrow night? *g* In the meantime, let me know what you think. *bounces*
Title: The things I already know
Author: M. F. Luder
Pairing: Ryan/Seth.
Rating: PG-13.
Word count: 26'000 words.
Category: Future fic. Pre-slash. Sophie fic. *g*
Challenge: For the Fourth Annual Sentence Fiction Challenge and everything that entitles. *nods*
Author's note: Betad by popmusicjunkie, who thinks I'm writing fluff now. *giggles* I love you, babe!
Written for 60schic: Sandy and Kirsten need to attend to 'an emergency', and drop 2 year old Sophie off with Ryan in his dorm room. It turns into an overnight event - - how will Ryan cope with a toddler?
Only, it's not overnight. And Sophie is way much younger, and Seth's there. So, hmm, not really what you asked for? *g*
Part one | Part two | Part three
The things I already know
I.
Ryan pinches the bridge of his nose, in between his eyes, feeling the back of his eyes start to hurt. He'd say it's the change of season if winter hadn't started almost a month ago. Stupid sinuses acting up and all that, he thinks, squeezing in between his eyes for another second before looking up at the professor, at the PowerPoint presentation.
He writes down the equation of the Finesse Model down on the stack of printed PowerPoint slides that the professor left at the student center earlier today. He tells himself that he really needs to get the book the teacher suggested, the book the teacher himself wrote, "Topics on Technology of Concrete." He remembers hearing Charlie say that Pasquel, the teacher, has a thing about asking questions that can only be answered by reading his book. He'll have to get copies of old exams, make sure he knows what the man can ask on the midterm.
Pasquel starts talking about the ratio between water, cement and sand when his cell phone starts vibrating. Ryan takes out his cell from his pocket, looking at the caller ID.
Kirsten's cell, it says, and he blinks at the liquid screen for a second. Kirsten knows better than to call him during the day, considering he has classes up until almost six almost every day. She usually calls him at night, hoping to not disrupt him in case he's at the library. He frowns even as Tatiana nudges him on the side.
"Who is it?" She asks, leaning to his side, reaching for the cell phone and turning it around so she can see the screen. "Kirsten? Is that the girl who gave you her number during Resistance? I know she was hitting on you. She was like a four by four, she was so fucking obvious."
Ryan rolls his eyes. "Her name was Paola, and no, that's not her. This is..." He trails off, as he tends to know when having to explain his family situation. Like Seth once said, they have a rather fucked up family. "She's..."
"Kirsten?" Tatiana says after a moment, a frown on her face. "Wait, your mom's name is Kirsten, right?"
He bites the inside of his cheek, thinks about Dawn for a passing second before nodding. He's grateful Tatiana has a knack for talking too much. He seems to draw in people like that.
She lets go of his arm, leaning back on her seat, looking at him. "You gonna answer it?"
He shakes his head, finishing the call with a click. He can't exactly leave the class. He's in the second row, Pasquel will notice if he leaves. "No, I'll call her back after this."
He places his cell on the table this time around, and tries copying what Tatiana wrote down. Her penmanship is like chicken scratches, and it takes half a miracle to actually understand what she wrote. She writes like Seth, and one would think three years of being in school with him would have taught Ryan how to decipher that kind of handwriting, and yet--
The cell phone starts to vibrate again, making a knocking sound against the table, and Ryan snatches it before the whole classroom turns around to look at him. Pasquel pauses for a second, glancing over his shoulder, then clicks on the next slide to show the consequences of a poor cement and water proportion, cracks all along the corner of a wall.
He looks at the liquid screen and isn't surprise to see Kirsten's cell clear on the screen. He sighs, glances at Pasquel, showing what looks almost like mold on the concrete, before pushing his chair back and standing up quickly.
"Ryan!" Tatiana hisses loudly, and Ryan jerks his head to his right, where the classroom collides with the hallway.
He glances at Pasquel as he makes his way to the back of the classroom, to take the door furthest from the teacher. He walks out, and answers the call even as he's closing the door behind him as quiet as he can manage.
"Kirsten?"
"Hey, Ryan. I'm so sorry to call you right now. Are you in class?"
He smiles indulgently, turning around and looking at the door that leads to the very back of the classroom. He can almost hear Pasquel inside. "No, not anymore. What is it?"
Oh, God. I'm sorry, really. You know I'd never call at this time--"
"Unless something was wrong, yes. What happened?" And for a second all Ryan can think about is what must have happened for Kirsten to call at. He checks his watch, ten seventeen on a Wednesday morning. "Is everyone okay, did something--?"
"It's not much, really. Just." He can hear her pause, and only now realizes that her breathing is ragged, as if she's been running. "Where are you exactly?"
Ryan frowns. "At Davis Hall."
"Yes, I remember the name of your department. Just, where--?"
"First floor, on the east side of the building. Classroom B-103." Ryan turns around, glancing at the corner of the building. The sun hits his face and he has to cover his eyes with his hand. "Kirsten, what--?"
"Okay, okay. B... Just give me one second--"
"Kirsten--"
Ryan pauses, eyes narrowed at the corner of the building, and a second later Kirsten's turning around it, Sophie in her arms and a diaper bag thrown over one shoulder, car seat in her other hand. He can't help but blink, and close the cell phone as Kirsten does the same.
He makes his way toward her, and Kirsten shifts to cradle Sophie against her chest before leaning forward and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He's too surprised to even complain about it.
"Ryan, I'm so sorry to spring this on you--" She says, placing the car seat on the floor.
"No, no, it's okay," he says, glancing between Kristen and Sophie, who's sitting in the crook of Kirsten's arm, turning around as if trying to see the whole building from that one small spot. "What happened, I mean--"
Kirsten waves it off with one hand, a mannerism he has seen Seth do before, and knows he got that from her. "Sandy. Remember how I told he went up to Miami on Monday, to visit Sophie for a while." The Nana, she means, and he knows. She sighs, running a hand through her hair, juggling Sophie as she does so. Ryan has it in his mind to actually reach for the baby. "He went to the beach, to surf for a while."
Ryan nods, and he can imagine. Sandy wouldn't be Sandy if he didn't surf in any of the beaches he comes across. "Yeah?"
"He had a bad fall. No, no, he's okay," Kirsten hurries to reassure him when his breath catches in his throat, and can almost feel himself paling. "Just a bad fall, bruised his back. He's still in the hospital, was when Sophie called me an hour ago. I just," she says, shifting baby Sophie from one arm to the other. "I need to go over there, make sure he's fine. I can't possibly leave Sandy under his mother's care. He'd kill me if I did that," she says with a small smile.
"Sure, yeah. I get it. I just don't know where I--?"
"Oh," Kirsten smiles at him, apologetically, and he has seen this smile before. It's the very same smile Seth has given him whenever he wanted something he knew Ryan would refuse. He's always had a weakness for that smile. "I can't take Sophie with me. She's only eight months old, and she could get sick on the plane. I'd rather she wouldn't travel so young."
Ryan nods, slowly, and the way Kirsten looks up from Sophie and then at him, he gets it. In that second, he gets it. This is where he comes in. He gazes down at the hallway, to where his class is still in progress, at least for another half an hour. "I can take care of her today, I think." He thinks about his Technology of Concrete lab this afternoon, and figures he'll manage, one way or the other. "I mean, if it's just for today--"
"Yes, yes, only today." Kirsten sighs in relief, leaning close and giving him a one arm hug, Sophie pressed against his shoulder for a second. She squeals in delight, her hands reaching to grab a hold of Ryan's hair. Kirsten leans back before Sophie can get manage to hold on to his short hair. "We'll be back late tonight, but tonight. I've booked us on the 8pm flight back, and I should be picking her up around nine probably? You sure you can? I'd leave her with the babysitter, but she has chicken pox of all things. Dora still has a good three weeks before she's past the contagious zone, and I wouldn't want to risk Sophie."
"It's okay," Ryan says, nodding, smiling down at Sophie. She opens and closes her hands at him, and he takes her from Kirsten. Kirsten slides down the diaper bag from her shoulder, handing it to him. It takes him a moment to figure out the mechanics of having a baby in one arm and the bag on the other. "Don't worry." He shifts Sophie a little on his arm, and she giggles, starting to drool. He can't help but smile at her. "We'll be fine, right kiddo? We'll be just fine until Kirsten gets back."
Kirsten smiles at him, then kisses Sophie on the cheek and Ryan as well, picking up the car seat and handing it to him. He looks down at Sophie in one arm, baby bag over the other, and Kirsten smiles and places the car seat back on the floor. "Thought you might need it," she says as an explanation. "I'll call you as soon as I land, and then when I know more about Sandy."
He nods, lets her kiss him one more time before turning around to make her way back down where she came from. He sighs, looks down at Sophie, who scrunches up her face and reaches over his shoulder, toward where Kirsten was only a second ago. She makes grabby motions with her hands, and then scrunches up her face even more. Please don't cry. Please don't cry.
She doesn't, by some sort of miracle, instead turns around and looks at him. He's been going home almost every week since classes began, almost five months ago. She knows him. He plays with her sometimes, picks her up when she looks bored. She's a quiet child, and he really likes her, and can almost imagine her liking him as well, she just isn't used to being with him that much.
"Okay, so, what do we do now?"
She looks back at him as if wanting to snort but not being able to just yet. He smiles at her, shifts her as she starts sliding down his arm, and then tries to come up with a way to pick up the car seat without dropping her. He can't. He sighs and settles for sitting on the floor on the step that leads down to the gardens around the building. It can't be more than twenty minutes until the end of class. He can wait for Tatiana here, then ask her to pick up his things and find a way to either get to his dorm and hide there until Kirsten comes back for Sophie, or talk with Mark, the TA in his lab, and find a way to do his laboratory with a baby in his arms.
He sits her on his leg, placing the bag on the floor next to him. He didn't get around to ask Kirsten if Sophie had eaten, or been changed, but assumes that she has, to both accounts. He wonders if he could do the laboratory with Sophie, if she's really quiet and allows him to actually measure cement, water, sand and rock to make the ratio needed for the concrete in his lab, and then put it in probes to test for resistance to traction and compression.
He looks down at her, and she scrunches up her face and wails.
Turns out, Sophie? Not really a quiet child. At all. And she apparently has entire hidroneumatic bombs instead of lungs, the way she just keeps crying and screaming without even pausing for a breath.
Five hours later, he's locked himself up in his single dorm room, Sophie in his arms, walking down the small space in between the bed, the dresser and the mini-fridge Kirsten got him when he moved in here. She hasn't stop crying. At all. In four hours. Three people have already come to his room to knock on the door and demand that whatever it is he has inside, he shuts it up. The first time, Ryan opened the door, showed the screaming baby to the guy on the other side -- someone from down the hallway, Ryan recognized -- who still has her cheeks damp from all the crying, the shirt she's wearing soaked from tears and spit and drool. When unceremoniously shown to the stunned guy, it felt as if Sophie was screeching loud enough to crack the small window in his room.
The guy had lifted his hands in peace offering and left without a word. That had been three hours ago. She hadn't stopped, not even long enough to take the bottle of milk, or water, or juice that Ryan offered. Nor to sleep, no matter how many times Ryan had tried to put her down on his bed.
One guy and one girl came after that stupid guy. And all Ryan had to do was show the baby to them for them to leave without a word. But right now? Ryan's ready to kill himself if Sophie doesn't stop crying. His right arm's numb, because Ryan can't put her down without her seeming to raise the decibel level that humans can hear, let alone produce. His left arm is way beyond numb, he could lose it and not notice. It has started to hurt, from the shoulder down to his fingers, and now his shoulder blades are joining in on the pain. And Sophie. Will. Not. Stop. Crying.
"Please, please, Sophie. Just..." He sighs, shifts Sophie from his left arm to his right, and runs one hand over his face. His left hand shakes from the strain, and the pain and everything in between. "God, Sophie. Just another couple of hours and I swear, I swear your mommy will be back and I'll make sure I don't ever reproduce, okay?"
She doesn't listen to him, only seems to pause for a second to look at him. He wonders if maybe, just maybe, she has found herself tired, but then she opens her mouth wide and continues wailing, not matter how Ryan tries to rock her on his feet.
"I'm sure she'll calm down in an hour or so," Kirsten had said when she called after she had landed in Miami and he told her that Sophie would not stop crying.
Back then, early afternoon, he had still believed in happiness and fairness and a child that would be silent come the next hour. Hell, he had even believed that maybe if Sophie cried then, come three in the afternoon and his three hour lab, he might manage to put Sophie in her car seat and sleep though his lab, so he wouldn't miss it and end up having to talk to the teacher about doing the lab with the Friday class. Now, lab long gone, as long as Sophie doesn't cry for ten minutes, he'd be happy. And maybe even sane.
He sighs, sits down on the bed and Sophie doesn't change decibels this time around, just continues the unstoppable crying, so he figures he's safe. He places a pillow against his back and leans back, closes his eyes and tries to find his happy place. He shifts Sophie until she's resting against his chest, comfortable as he can manage. Sophie cries straight through his shirt.
Ryan starts shoving piece of clothing after piece of clothing inside his backpack until he knows he can't fit even another t-shirt and then zips it up. He didn't even take the time to take out the papers he photocopied before going to Technology of Concrete, but he doesn't care. Sophie keeps on screaming. He glances at the clock, and a little after five. Six hours and counting, then. He sighs, runs a hand over his damp forehead and can feel the back of his neck starting to ache.
He picks up his backpack, sliding it over his right shoulder, along with the diaper bag. He picks up Sophie with his left and walks out of the dorm room. People start looking at him funny -- mostly at the squealing baby in his arms -- as he makes his way down the hallway and he hurries his pace. He shifts Sophie, tries to coo to her but she doesn't pay attention, it's almost as if she can't hear him.
He places her blanket over her, covering the back of her head, one arm curled around her back, the other hand holding her face against his chest. Berkeley's nights get chilly and the last thing he needs is her catching a cold.
He's not really in the mood to wait for the elevator, so he goes down the three flights of stairs, thinking it'll be good exercise for his legs, considering his arms have been doing nothing but lifting weight -- sixteen pounds, last time he heard -- all day long. He walks out of the dorm building, toward the parking lot.
He reaches his car, and it takes him a moment to handle opening the backseat without actually dropping Sophie. He throws the baby bag and his backpack on the backseat and glares at the car seat. Okay, he has to set it. Now. He can't drive home with Sophie on his lap. He runs his free hand through his hair, but hurries to place it on Sophie's back as she starts wiggling in his arms, as if trying to get away from him.
"Just give me a minute and I'll have you settled in your seat, okay?" Ryan says to her, trying to shift her onto his hip without losing hold of her.
She keeps on wiggling, her little arms flailing around, hitting him on his chest. He pulls her away from him for a second, looking down at her, his eyes narrowed. "You have one hell of a right hook, you know?"
She drools at him. He sighs, feeling tired of all sudden. God, one eight month baby and it feels like he's run a freaking marathon. He shifts her again, and this time she incorporates feet kicking to her repertoire.
He groans, loud, his eyes closing, and tightens his hold on her for a second. She stops crying, and starts whimpering instead, and Ryan loosens his hands around her, looking right at her. Her eyes are red and puffy, her cheeks blotchy from all the crying. He should really to get her into something else, considering her shirt is really wet now. And God, she looks so miserable, even after everything she's put him through in the last six hours, his heart breaks for her.
He lets go of her blanket and instead places her against his chest, and she hides her face in the crook of his neck. For a moment, she stops crying and whimpering and hitting him. For a moment, she just breathes in and out. Ryan hadn't even noticed how her crying was giving him a headache until she stopped.
With her settled, at least for now, he can get the car seat settled in the backseat of his sedan, and her on it in under ten minutes. He secures the seatbelts, makes sure they are fastened right, and stands straight by the side of the car. She starts crying with renewed passion.
"Sophie, Sophie," he says, leaning inside the car, cradling her face in his hands, touching her soft hair. "Sophie, baby, please, what's wrong with you? Kirsten says you're fine but I swear to God it's not natural for a baby to cry this much."
She closes her hands into tiny fists and flails so much, she catches him on the cheek, hard. He stands back, rubbing his cheekbone with the palm of his hand, his eyes beginning to sting. Fuck, she certainly has a right hook.
"Not nice, Sophie," he says under his breath, closing the door with his elbow as he does so. "Not nice."
Ten minutes later he's already on his way to the Cohen house, and when he pauses at a red light, he can't help but close his eyes and lean his head forward, forehead against the steering wheel.
A couple more days, Kirsten had said when she had called, almost half an hour ago. Sandy's fine, and Ryan's grateful for that, but he isn't fit to travel. So they have to stay there. For a couple more days. And they can't possibly take Sophie to Miami so someone has to take care of her. He groans again, and Sophie quiets down for a second before continuing to cry.
A couple more days. How the hell is he going to take care of Sophie, alone, for days? And a second later he thinks about his classes, everything he'll miss.
He flips open his cell phone even as he hits the gas and glances at Sophie through the rearview mirror. Her mouth is wide open, and Ryan fears for the windows in the car.
"Hello."
"Hey, Tatiana." He takes the phone with his left hand, trying to get it as far away from Sophie as possible, to actually hear Tatiana.
"Wait, wait. Is that your sister? Oh my God. Is she still screaming? Like, still? It's been like ten hours."
Six, but who's counting. "Look, I need to ask you a favor." He grimaces as he turns right, and Sophie seems to complain about his lack of focus on the road. "I need you to--"
He can hear her laughing on the other end of the line, even through Sophie's crying. "Oh, God. I need to call Eve. Oh, and Claire just lost ten bucks, my God she's gonna love that."
"Ten bucks? What are you--?"
"Eve bet Claire that your sister would scream her head off most of the day. Claire said she wouldn't. Then again, Claire's an only child. Poor thing. Even I know better."
Ryan snorts. Right. These are his friends. "Tatiana, I swear to God--"
"My God, are you killing her, is that why she's screaming like that? Have you kidnapped her? What the fuck are you doing to that kid, Ryan, and how come the police haven't pulled you over? Are they fucking deaf?"
"Tatiana, just shut up for one minute!"
Sophie does not take to the raise of his voice. Actually, she complains in the only way she knows how. He grimaces, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his holding the phone. He can hear Tatiana laughing.
Sophie hates his guts, plain and simple. She knows the Cohens have written him up in their will and she hates that she'll get one third instead of half. That has to be it. Or she has been possessed or something, because by God, Ryan's certain someone is killing her in the back seat even if he can't see anyone else but her.
"She doesn't have lungs!" Tatiana says in between bouts of laughter. "She's not human! She isn't, she isn't!"
He can almost imagine her falling down to the floor, the way she's laughing. He's seen it only once before. He had thought she was crazy back then, but then he'd remembered Seth's unstoppable ramblings and figured maybe he just attracts weird people like that.
"Look, I need you to actually write everything the teacher says tomorrow, okay? And maybe a couple of days after that too."
That makes her stop in mid laughter. "What? Ryan, did something--?"
"No, everything's fine." He sighs, glancing at Sophie once again. Except for the child screaming her head off in his back seat, of course. "It's just... it's Sandy, he--"
"Your dad, right?"
His brow furrows before nodding, even though she can't see him. "Yeah, him. He had a bit of an accident and Kristen had to go to Miami and now I have to take care of Sophie."
"Oh, crap. Ryan. So very sorry. I hope your dad's okay. Yeah, don't worry. I'll talk to the professors. I'll talk to Mark, tell him you'll send him an email? To explain? I'm sure you can make up for your lost lab."
"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks." He pauses at the next corner before taking the interstate, and sighs. "Look, I gotta go. Call me on my cell if you need me."
"Cool. Don't worry. Oh, and do try to spray holy water on her. I've been told that possessed people kinda shy away from it."
He can hear her laughing even as he hangs up the phone. He runs the back of his hand over his damp forehead, glances at Sophie one last time before clicking five in the speed dial.
Ryan doesn't think about how he hasn't seen Seth since Christmas, and before that, since Thanksgiving. He doesn't think about how they don't talk on the phone, about how they are almost strangers. It takes four whole rings before the line is picked up.
"Yeah?"
Ryan snorts. Apparently Seth doesn't check his caller ID, the asshole. "Seth, you better get your ass down here, or I'll swear to God I'll find a way to get to Providence to kick it for you."
Ryan finally hears the sound of a key being turned in the lock and the front door opening after midnight. He has Sophie in his arms, and though she's not screeching half out of her mind, she's not really sleeping either. She can't seem to decide between whimpering or crying at a decent volume.
"Ryan?"
Seth's whispered words only manage to make Ryan grind his teeth, making his way to the doorway that leads to the hallway and the front door. Seth closes the door silently behind him, backpack over one shoulder, hand holding a bag of take out on the other.
"Oh, thank God," Ryan breathes out, snatching the take out with the one hand that isn't cradling Sophie to his chest.
Seth blinks, taken back probably, but right now Ryan doesn't give a rat's ass. The last thing he ate was a pack of crackers he found in one of his jackets in his dorm room, almost seven hours ago, and before that, a lousy coffee and a bagel for breakfast. Right now, the two things he cares in the world are getting Sophie to sleep and food. And not even in that order at this point.
"Is she asleep?"
Ryan snorts as he makes his way to the kitchen, to place the boxes on the kitchen island. He turns around so as to let Seth see that Sophie is wide awake. "I wish."
He shifts her, and with thirteen hours and counting of him having her in his arms, he's starting to become a bit of an expert on this. He picks up a fork with one hand and tries rummaging into the bag and opening one of the boxes, any of the boxes, at the same time. He almost succeeds before Seth snatches one of the boxes and opens it, giving to Ryan.
Ryan has one arm around Sophie and the other hand is holding the fork. He glares at Seth and Seth smiles back at him sheepishly before placing the box on the counter. Ryan takes a seat on one of the stools -- and it reminds him the house in Newport, making something in his chest catch -- before pulling the box toward him with his fork. He plunges in even as he settles Sophie on his lap, her head resting comfortably on his collarbone.
She's settled for whimpering softly, almost under her breath. Now, looking at her, he wouldn't believe she can scream nonstop for almost seven hours if he hadn't seen it, and heard it himself. He finishes half the box of Chicken Teriyaki before he notices that Seth's sitting next to him, facing him, eating from the other box.
For a moment, he can see the den just behind Seth, the sun hitting his back through the French doors, smell the ocean in the air. And then blinks and the den and the sun and the ocean are long gone, and he has Sophie rubbing her face against his not quite dry t-shirt. He's suddenly not so hungry anymore.
"So, what happened? I mean, Mom told me you were staying with Sophie and all that--"
Ryan snorts, standing up, unable to stay sitting down. He shifts her to his right arm, which at least isn't numb anymore, glancing at his drooled left shoulder. "She told you Sandy can't travel?"
"Yeah, she called around five. She said she'd called you and told you already."
Ryan nods, pinching the bridge of his nose once again. His brain has long succumbed to the pain of his sinuses acting up, and it feels like his head is filled with cotton, along with his eyes. He doesn't know if that's just his sinuses or Sophie's doing.
"She did." He looks down at Sophie, her cheeks a bit damp but her eyes are closed this time around, and she's holding onto his shirt like it's the one thing keeping her awake. He'd take it off, if it were to do the trick. "She can't get back for a couple of days. And someone has to stay back and take of the baby."
He looks up at Seth, who looks back at him as if he's speaking Sanskrit or some weird shit like that. As if Seth doesn't know that Sophie is his sister too.
"I mean, she's calm enough. I can't believe she's that much work--"
Ryan sputters because he doesn't know how to reach for a plate and throw it at Seth's face without shifting Sophie too much. "That much work?" He hisses under his breath, glancing down at Sophie blabbering something under her breath. "She has been bawling nonstop since Kirsten left her with me--"
"I mean, I had to leave left Pancakes with Jen so--"
"Pancakes? Jen? What the fuck--?" He clams his mouth shut when he feels Sophie shifting on his chest.
"Jennifer's a friend from school. You don't know her."
He can't help but narrow his eyes and glare at Seth. Of course I don't know her, Seth. I don't even know who you are anymore.
"Dude, I left the comfort of my dorm room for this, so you better--"
His left hand closes down to a fist. "You left? I've missed class! Labs! I've missed a lab that actually has a fucking grade, Seth! I've been taking care of miss little two sets of lungs and another one to spare for the past twelve hours so don't you dare tell me--"
He forgot about Sophie on the verge of sleep and she reminds that she doesn't like her beauty sleep interrupted. She starts screeching at the top of her very tiny lungs and yet with enormous capacity, and after ten minutes of Ryan pacing around the living room and Sophie not letting up, Seth looks as surprised as Ryan felt ten hours ago. He can't help but give Seth a smug grin. "See what I'm talking about?"
Ryan lies Sophie down on the changing table, lifting her small shirt, pulling down her pants. He glares at the straps of the diaper on mere principal. He can't quite smell it yet, but he knows that if he leaves it on much longer, she'll get a rash and then he'll smell her and she won't let him forget it, at all. She's still crying, not quite bawling but letting tears run down her cheeks, kicking her feet on the air, punching her closed fists almost like she wishes she could reach him. Like this is Ryan's fault.
I'm not enjoying this anymore than you are, kiddo, he thinks, before grumbling under his breath. He pulls at the sticky parts of the straps, pulling down her diaper.
He hears Seth groan somewhere behind him. "My God, what did you feed her, Ryan? Mexican?"
Ryan glares at Seth over his shoulder, his jaw tight and his teeth clenched. He really doesn't mind the smell -- he doesn't even ask himself why. He holds one leg in each hand, pulling them apart, making sure he's not hurting her. He's more worried about how getting that diaper from under her before she ends up smearing that almost greenish stuff all over her bottom and legs and God knows where else.
He's seen Kirsten do this a million times, he's done it himself a couple, with Kirsten by his elbow, supervising, a comforting presence. He takes both of her ankles in his right hand, lifts her slowly, carefully, then pulls the diaper from under her with his left. He lets out a long sigh of relief when he doesn't make a mess out of it. He stretches his left hand to his side, and hears Seth groan and bitch under his breath.
"Hell, no. I'm not touching that thing. That's hazard, that's what it is."
Ryan rolls his eyes, wondering how he can roll the diaper into a ball without letting go of her legs. "Can you at least--?" He sighs, turning to look at Seth, who looks back at him with a grin that says he won't move a fucking finger. "Damn it, Seth. Just hold her legs like this, okay?" Seth seems to think about it before Ryan growls, "Seth."
Seth blinks, nods, takes a step forward and covers Ryan's hand with his own. Ryan swallows tightly, past the anger and everything he feels but doesn't, before sliding his fingers from underneath Seth's grasp.
He rolls the diaper, shoves it in the diaper genie and then turns around in the middle of the nursery. He should have looked for the diapers first, damn it. He finds them after a minute, and the baby wipes and the power he has to sprinkle on her bottom and he's pretty sure that's all there is.
Ryan place his hand over Seth's, and Seth lets go of Sophie like she's burning him. Ryan snorts, leaning forward to look at Sophie. She looks back at him with blue eyes tinged with red, face in a grimace, discomfort plainly written on her lips and scrunched up nose. Tears still leak from the corners of her eyes. The picture pulls something inside him, hard.
He cleans Sophie with the baby wipes, getting his fingers dirty but yet not caring, not squeamish about this for some reason. He checks she's clean twice, then runs a clean baby wipe over her bottom, just in case. He uses another clean one to wipe his own fingers. He sprinkles the talcum powder, a little more than necessary, and it doesn't turn into this gooey mass on her skin (unlike the first time), so he think he's done okay. Putting on the second diaper is a bit trickier, and it takes him two tries to do so (the first diaper, ripped at the sides, already in the diaper genie). When he's done, his neck hurts like he's sat eight hours in front of the computer, and his lower back seems to throb in time with his pulse, but he doesn't care because she's clean and only sniffling instead of crying. He'll take what he can get.
He hefts her to his arms, one hand on her back. He noses her hair, and she sniffles against the collar of his shirt, and he can't help but whisper, "It's okay, I've got you. I've got you."
Ryan shifts his hold on Sophie, right hand big enough to cover most of her back, and he rubs the back of his neck with his left one. The pain in his head has lowered to nothing but a dull throb, and though his eyes still feel as if they are filled with lead, at least his temples aren't being drummed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
He keeps on his slow pace of the nursery. It's only five steps long, and he's walked them so much tonight that half the time he doesn't even notice he's doing it. He glances down at Sophie, who isn't quite asleep but at least has her eyes closed. For a moment he considers trying to put her down in the crib, but the last four times he tried that, she started crying and almost screaming her head off, and it keeps taking Ryan longer and longer to calm her down.
He turns around one more time, and the clock says that it's after two and Sophie has probably been awake since six in the morning and if he's dying right now, how in the world is Sophie not entirely comatose? He sighs, and can't help but lean close to Sophie's face, his nose almost touching hers, feeling her breathing in and out slowly, in tandem.
The night is silent around him, only Sophie's soft sighs and Seth's quiet snores. He glances at Seth, sitting on the rocking chair because Sophie doesn't like it when he sits down. Seth, with his head thrown back, throat exposed and breathing in through his opened mouth as if his nose has clotted. He smiles, stupidly in a way, and remembers Seth falling asleep very much like that only, on the futon instead of the rocking chair. For a second it feels like he has been rushing to this point, through school today and then down the road, until now he can finally stand still and breathe.
He looks around him, around the house that now he calls home, if only because the Cohens live here instead of Newport. Newport will always hold a special place in him, the house he loved, the pool house he was able to call his. But now this is home, no matter where Dawn is, or how sporadic Frank's calls become. This is his home, and this is his family, the little girl in his arms and the stupid boy on that chair, and a couple clear across the country.
He takes in a deep breath, holds it in for a second, then lets it out slowly. Sophie seems to sigh with him, and Seth to shift on the chair. He smiles, rubbing his nose against Sophie's soft hair, blonde and so clear it's almost silver under the right light, and then turns to look at Seth. He smiles again, and it feels bittersweet inside him in a way. How long has it been since he last saw Seth? Not long, but it feels longer. It feels as if they haven't seen since they both left for college. Does it even matter?
Ryan sighs, and with one hand on Sophie's back, he crosses the distance to the rocking chair, and touches the toe of his boot to Seth's shin. Seth jumps back, a surprise gasp caught in his throat, and looks around. Ryan can't help but grin at the reaction.
"W'a--? Wh--?"
Ryan snorts, shaking his head before taking a step toward the nursery's doorway, maintaining the slow pace he has held so far. "Come on," he whispers under his breath, and can hear Seth standing up from the chair and joining him as he walks into their bedroom.
The Berkeley house has three rooms, and considering neither of them were actually going to spend much time in theirs, it was understandable they had to share. After all, Sophie being the girl, deserved to have her own bedroom. Ryan continues his pacing in the space between the two beds, and Seth makes his way to the one on the right straight away, only toeing off his shoes before getting under the covers.
Seth chose his bed the moment they walked into the bedroom, after the house was bought. Mine, Seth declared it, letting one of his boxes fall on top of the then stripped bed. Ryan had shrugged, taking the one on the left. It hadn't mattered to him anyway.
Ryan can see the corner of his backpack against the side of his bed, and Sophie gurgles something under her breath.
"Are you actually going to get some sleep?"
Ryan glances at Seth, glares at him and Seth raises his hands in the international sign for I didn't really mean what I said I was just trying to start conversation and I'm tired so it can't be my fault I'm ass. Or something. He rolls his eyes, shifts Sophie and looks longingly at the bed that has his name on it, his soft sheets and thick covers.
"Oh, to hell with it," he says under his breath, even as Seth turns around on the bed to look at him.
"What are you gonna--?"
And Seth kinda pauses there when Ryan makes his way to his own bed, toeing off his shoes and realizing there's no way in hell he's going to manage to take off his pants with one hand. And giving Seth the baby isn't going to work, because last time he went to the bathroom it really did sound like Sophie was being murdered.
"She's gonna scream, dude. You know--" Seth says in between a yawn.
And yeah, she might, but Ryan's been awake since a little before seven and it's now after two and his head it's not pounding but still hurts, and he wants nothing more than to lie down on his bed and get even an hour of shut eye. So he sits down on the bed, the pillows behind his back, and Sophie shifts and gurgles and opens her eyes at him.
"Shh," Ryan croons, his voice tired and nothing but a whisper, and Sophie scrunches up her face. Here it comes, he thinks, only she doesn't scream bloody murder, at least not this time around. She shifts again and he places both hands on her back, pulling her closer to him. He shimmies down on the bed, the pillow still on his back. She shifts with him but doesn't cry, doesn't even whimper.
They seem to hold their breath, waiting for Sophie's cries that don't come, and when Ryan sighs, he realizes he'd really been holding his breath. He pulls the pillow from behind his back, slowly, trying his best not to move her too much. He lies down on the bed, finally, and fears to try to pull the covers from under him. He's okay for now, anyway.
"She asleep?"
The words are barely even a breath, and Ryan turns around to look at Seth, his eyes wide in the dim light coming through the windows. He nods. "Yeah, I think so."
Seth nods, then shifts again and in within a minute, Ryan can hear the steadiness of Seth's breathing and know he's sleeping. About half an hour later, Sophie's down for the count too. He breathes out again, even more relieved than before, and manages to pull the sides of the covers over the two of them, enough that he won't be shivering within the hour.
His hands over her, keeping her close to his chest, he falls asleep as he feels her breathing against his chin.
No, I'm not ending it there. The story is just too long. *g* The two more parts coming up soon.
It's posted! And I know it's not all done yet, so wait for it. The other two parts are still at the beta, so, tomorrow night? *g* In the meantime, let me know what you think. *bounces*