The better version
by M. F. LuderPart two
"Uh, are you running away?"
- Seth Cohen. The Model Home.
32. sunset
Ten minutes before the end of the hour, the Professor is already tired of the bunch of them and just sits at his desk. Ryan sighs, leans back in his chair and opens a book as the class around him starts to talk, so loud at times that Ryan can't quite understand what he's reading.
The bell finally rings, and everyone is pushing their things into their backpacks in the hurry to leave. When Ryan looks up, the Professor is making his way through the door, not looking back, not caring enough. Not that Ryan blames him, of course. The poor guy probably doesn't get paid enough to put with the forty of them.
It's the last class of the day and Ryan, though tired and slightly bored, knows that he has homework and should get started on it. It helps to pass the time because at least being in the library is better than being in the Group Home. Not that it's an awful place, Ryan's certain he could have done worse, he's heard about kids who have done worse, and paid the price. And it's not like Foster Care is going to be calling him anytime soon, but still. It's boring, and Jason can be loud at times when he listens to music, and Jack can be ass when he wants to be. And in only the week and a half that he's been there, there's a new guy in the house. Blair isn't so bad, and Ryan's really glad that Blair's bunking with him. He would have killed himself if he had to share a room with either of the other two.
Backpack over one shoulder, he makes his way down the hallway of Newport Union and out the front door.
"Go back in the house, Seth."
He tells himself he's not half looking down the street, because that's stupid and weak of him, and those are two things he can't be now. But he is, and he might be both stupid and weak, but he'll deal with that when the time comes, and to his surprise, there's no lanky guy with curls standing against one of the walls, skateboard in hand. Ryan snorts to himself. See? Stupid and weak.
"You can't just run away."
It's only the first week, but he has Biology homework for next week, and Intro to Physics to get done for next month. He shouldn't care about this, but he does, and it won't kill him to get a head start on it. He makes his way around the building toward the parking lot and his bike.
"Dude!"
Ryan turns around, blue eyes wide, and he is surprised to see Seth, going as fast as he can on his skateboard, grin on his face.
"Dude. Wait up!"
Ryan tries to fight the grin, he really does, but it's like fighting a tide, in the way that his lips curl upwards against his very own will. He pauses, doesn't so much as move, and only tilts his head to the side.
"Seth-- I can't. I can't go there. Not to Social Services. Not to that place."
Seth's panting by the time he reaches Ryan's side, and Ryan can't help but laugh, head ducked.
"Sorry. Dude. Really." Seth leans forward, hands on his knees, trying to take a deep breath but coughing. Ryan can't help but worry.
"You okay?"
Seth waves it off. "I'm kinda out of breath. Nothing some peace and quiet won't," another cough, "solve."
"What happened?" Which, really, Ryan should not have asked at all because it's not his fucking business whether Seth's on time or not to pick him up. Mostly, because Seth doesn't really comes here to pick him up. Seth likes coming to Newport Union. That's it.
"Ryan. Dude. You can't... you can't just leave." A pause, a breath, brown eyes that had him from the moment Ryan met them. "Please."
"Argh. You would not believe the nerve Mr. Petterson had to keep us ten minutes over the end of the class." Seth straightens, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his palm. "I'm telling you, everyone in there wanted to murder him. It's Thursday, people want to go to the beach. Then again, they always want to go to the beach. Everyone was ready to leave before the guy even finished the sentence. "
"It's okay."
"No, dude. Sorry. You weren't going to leave me behind, were you? I mean. You knew I was gonna come, right?"
Ryan pauses, not sure what he can say. You have no obligation to me. You don't need to come, to see me. You shouldn't want to see me. He shrugs. "I thought you might have something to do."
"Dude, no, no," Seth shakes his head, looking right at Ryan. "You know I'd let you know if I had something to do."
Ryan doesn't point out that he doesn't have a cell phone Seth can call. Seth really has no way of reaching him after he has left the house, which is the only telephone access he has, from seven thirty to nine at night. He sighs, shrugging as he does so. "Whatever you wanna do."
Seth grins, looking so very pleased with himself that Ryan can't help but raise one eyebrow, almost feeling worried about himself.
"Seth?"
"Dude. I so know what we can do."
Ryan tells himself he really disagreed with Seth on this, that he really stood his ground and said no enough times that Seth should have backed off, but that's not exactly how it happened. Ryan did say no, once, and then Seth said that there'd be no problem, that the parents had been working late recently, and either way, his dad had this new job at this very big firm and had been swamped with work and something was going on in his mom's job, so they'd be alone until seven, at the earliest. And Ryan had remembered the feel of the controller in his hand, the foot of the couch against his back. And he can't really deny that he had also remembered the way Seth would open the fridge and it'd be full, getting everything he could think out of there, from coke to ice-cream, bagels if he was hungry, cereal if Ryan wanted that instead.
It's not like Ryan wanted to head back to the group home, or the coldness and draftiness of the library, and Seth is there, by his side, smiling and nudging, and so it only takes Seth saying it once again for Ryan to oblige.
They've been through two Magic the Gathering, one Grand Theft Auto championship -- in which Seth won, because it looks like Ryan never did learn how to pick cars like Trey did -- and two Ninjas in which Ryan won at least one, when there's the distinctive sound of a key in the front door and a voice that Ryan wishes he didn't recognize, "Seth?"
"Shit," Ryan mutters under his breath, looking around him, bowl of chips next to his left leg, propped up cereal box against his right, two empty cans of coke by his elbow, all of which he told himself he'd clean up before leaving.
He tries to get all in one armload, but it's too much, and one can falls down to the floor as he stands up, and Seth's by his side, hand on Ryan's forearm, and Ryan turns away, as if stung. Seth stares at him with wide, shocked and just a tad hurt, brown eyes. Ryan closes his eyes in a grimace.
"It's fine. It's just dad, don't worry."
And he knows Seth's voice, knows what the kid tries to project and Ryan's almost grateful for that, but he's pissed off at himself for being an idiot, for letting himself be talked into this. They could have done anything. They could have gone to the pier, like they've done before. They could have gone sailing, like those few times Ryan got talked into that as well, or share comic books on a bench, fuck, anything but this.
"Really," Seth starts to say, his voice low and calming, "you don't have to--"
"Seth, please. There are more bags out in the car."
Ryan's eyes fly open, and that voice he might never forget, nor the perfect pitch in Mrs. Cohen's voice.
"Oh." Seth groans in the back of his throat. "Oh, crap, no."
When Ryan turns around, Sandy's standing by the kitchen island, bags in his hands, surprise etched in his face for only a second. "Hello, Ryan."
Ryan swallows, throat tight, and a second later, just on cue, there's Mrs. Cohen under the threshold of the kitchen. She blinks, confused, then shifts to look at Seth. Ryan sees from the corner of his eyes Seth picking up the fallen can of Coke, then straightening, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Ryan would bail, right now, this second, excuse himself and just leave, if he didn't want to put away the trash first, which at the moment means going around Mr. Cohen and opening the cupboard next to the sink.
"Seth?"
There's that tone again, very much like the one he heard in the pool house that second night, after the party at the beach. A mixture of contained anger, surprise and disappointment.
"I'm sorry," Ryan says, his voice low, his head ducked, "I shouldn't have... I'm sorry. I'll leave in a moment." He takes a step forward, decided on putting everything in the trash and count his losses.
"No, dude."
Something holds him back and Ryan breathes in, eyes almost closed, and when he looks down at it, fingers curled around his wrist, he wishes there was another way to do this.
"Seth." Ryan's voice's low, almost pleading, nothing but a whisper.
"No, dude. You can't--" Seth's hand tightens on Ryan's wrist and he looks at his dad, brown eyes blinking. "Dad?"
"Sandy--"
Mrs. Cohen's voice's loud and clear. Sandy doesn't deserve this, Ryan thinks, looking at the man, looking back at him before shifting to look at his wife. It's not fair.
"Mr. Cohen, Seth," Ryan says with respect, looking at Seth, and after a moment, after a breath, Seth lets his hand go. "Mrs. Cohen." He pauses as she turns to look at him and he wishes he hadn't agreed to this for Seth's and his own sake. "Thank you, but I better leave."
"Ryan, wait." Sandy gives his wife a meaningful glance before stepping forward, giving the boy a smile. "It's late, so close to dinner, you might as well stay."
Ryan presses his lips into a thin line and he can't help but think that this really is not a time for jokes from Mr. Cohen. "No, thanks. Really. There's no need--"
Sandy smiles, shrugging as he does so. "We've bought enough Chinese for a small army, one more person will barely make a dent on the food. I'm sure." He turns around, smile in place and hopes, really hopes, that Kirsten will get the hint when he needs her to. "Right, honey?"
Kirsten seems to think about it, and Ryan's pretty sure the only reason she's not kicking him out this very second is because it's late, and Sandy's asking and Seth seems to be on the verge of tears if they kick him out again.
Ryan looks at her, blue eyes finding blue, and she sighs, seeming to decide she'd rather fight this battle another day.
"Why don't you stay for dinner?" She asks him, and he can see just how much it costs her to mouth the words. But he's who he is, and the mere idea of going back there, to those walls and those three guys he has barely spoken three kind words to, just makes him shiver, and he'll take what he can get -- even from this woman, he'll take it.
Seth bounces next to him, hand reaching out to touch Ryan's once again, and Ryan can't help but look at him and give him a small smile, nothing but a curl of his lips, but for Seth, it's like the sky has opened.
Dinner's strained and quiet, even though Mr. Cohen tries to bring conversation forward, asking Ryan about what subjects he's taking and if he likes the house. Ryan shrugs and tells him that it's fine, another kid arrived, last week, and there's been rumors about another one arriving, maybe, in a day or two. It'll get crowded, Ryan knows, and either him and Blair will have to share the room, or Jack and Jason, and they've talked about pulling straws to decide, to make it fair, but he doesn't tell that to the Cohens.
Seth wants to ask, once again, why Ryan can't stay here. Ryan can see this, in the way Seth shifts and opens his mouth, but Ryan's quicker, and he can read Seth better that he wishes to admit, even to himself, and he kicks Seth's shin, under the table, before a word is out. Seth frowns, turns to look at Ryan and glares. Ryan shakes his head once, jaw set.
Don't. Fuck, Seth, we're in as much shit as I can deal at the fucking moment, so, please, just don't.
Seth seems to finally get it, staying quiet and the rest of the meal goes quickly, thank God, in something of a blur.
Ryan says his goodbyes, standing in the middle of the kitchen after they have finished putting away the leftovers and throwing out the trash. Seth walks him to the front door, where his bike is parked, and he smiles, if only somewhat shyly.
"I'm sorry," Seth says with a shake of his head. "Dude, really. This was so not how I planned it. They weren't supposed to arrive, they weren't--"
Ryan's hand, on Seth's arm, slightly squeezing shuts him up. He smiles with a sigh. "I know. It's okay." He shrugs. "Next time," if there is a next time, "it'd be safer if we stick to the pier."
Seth nods, a grin on his lips, and Ryan gets on his bike and doesn't look back as he rides out.
When he arrives at the house, Blair's sitting on the second step of the stairs, book in his hands, looking very much like he was avoiding something rather than studying.
"Something wrong?"
Blair looks like he'd rather go to their room and lock himself in, even if that meant Ryan sleeping on the couch. He looks up, swallows and closes his book. "The new kid arrived."
Ryan curses under his breath. Great. Just fucking-- "I thought that was just rumor."
"Well, man, guess what? It turned out to be true. And, hmm. Jack and Jason are bigger than me."
"Fuck." So not only there are five in a house that's designed for three people, now he's fucked up and there'll be another bed in their room. "Bunk beds?" Ryan asks after a thought.
Blair gives him a sad smile. "You want the top or the bottom?"
"What, the idiot also gets the single bed? Why? We've been here longer." Actually, Ryan's been here longer than Blair, but he'd rather Blair takes the single bed and Ryan can do bunk beds with the moron.
"Hmm. Again. Kyle, the new guy, is way, way bigger than me. Hell, he's bigger than you and me combined."
And really, Ryan should have thought about this. Blair's only fourteen, but still, it's not fair. Fuck. Ryan kicks the bottom of the banister.
"It's cool. Like I said, which one you like best? Bottom one, right? I mean, top one looks like fun." Blair shrugs. "Or whatever. I'm cool. I'm small, I'm accommodating."
Ryan chuckles, even in despite of his anger and resentment, and ruffles Blair's curls on his way up to the second floor. "Sure, take the top one. Bottom is fine."
He takes the steps two at a time, and walking into his room, he realizes why Blair didn't so much as put up a fight. Ryan would have thought twice before getting into an argument with this guy over a bed. Kyle reminds Ryan of Eddie, only a little bit wider on the shoulders, and looking way over eighteen, and with a mean spirited look, like Trey on his worse days.
"Hey," Ryan says, hoping the guy, lying down on his back on his very new bed, will at least try to be civil to him.
The guy does look up, black eyes meeting Ryan, narrowing, and looks down at whatever it is he's reading.
Ryan sighs, decides that, whatever, he doesn't care. This's a room he only spends seven hours in a day, as long as it takes him to fall asleep and get up the next morning. If he minds his own business and doesn't get into any shit, he'll be okay. Then again, these kinds of things, minding his own business, was never Ryan's specialty.
The next morning, Kyle pushes his way into the bathroom and kicks Blair out, though Blair looks like he walks out on his own volition, even though he was the first one in there. Kyle eats more than his share of breakfast and on the way to Newport Union, Blair starts rummaging through his backpack and complains that he's sure, freaking certain, that he had his homework inside but now it's gone and where the hell could it have gone?
Ryan sighs, shakes his head, and tells Blair ask the teacher for an extension, please, because a new guy arrived at the home yesterday and they had to move stuff and his homework must have gotten lost in the moving. Ryan hopes the lie will work.
That afternoon, at ten after three, Seth's standing against the outside wall of the school, a smile on his face.
"Dude, you okay?" Seth asks, after only five minutes of them walking side by side.
Ryan sighs, thinks of a simple way to put this, and then says, "there's a new guy at the house. No problem."
The matter is very much dropped after that.
On Saturday afternoon, though Seth tried to talk Ryan into spending it together, Ryan was able to convince Seth that he had tons of stuff to get done for Monday and Tuesday, and staying at the house and finishing the fucking papers would be better for Ryan's grades.
It only takes Ryan two hours to get everything done, and by four in the afternoon, Ryan's already outside. If there's one thing this house has, at least, is a hoop in the back yard. Blair, somehow, found a basketball, and though Ryan's favorite sport is not really basketball, throwing a couple of hoops with Blair does pass the time.
Blair shoots, but it bounces back of the rim of the hoop and rolls over to the house. Ryan trots to pick it up, and to his surprise, Kyle's standing by the back door, leaning against the wall, ball in hand.
"Can you give it back?" Ryan asks, calm and collected, and telling himself they've been doing nothing to bother the fucking prick.
"What if I don't want to?"
"Ryan," Blair says, closing the distance, standing about three feet behind him. "Let it go. Let's go inside."
Ryan waves it off. There's bullshit and then there's bullshit. "Just give it back."
"You wanna pick a fight?" Kyle says, pushing himself away from the wall, smirk on his lips. "You wanna, pretty boy?"
Ryan sighs. "Man, we're not doing anything, we're just--"
"Just let it go, okay?" Blair says, gripping Ryan's forearm tightly and pulling back with as much force as he can. "Just let it go."
"What?" Kyle says, advancing slowly, pausing only when he's right up in Ryan's face. "You gonna let your bitch fight your fights, queer, huh? It's okay. I'll take the little guy first."
Ryan shifts, moving until he's standing between Kyle and Blair. "Leave him alone."
Kyle sneers. "Fuck you."
"Ryan, please--"
"Go into the house, Blair."
"Ryan--"
"Go into the house."
Blair seems to think about it, and that's all the incentive Kyle needs. He moves, trying to push Ryan away, but Ryan holds his ground, and the next thing he knows there's searing pain in his side, and ears seem to ring with silence, and then, Blair screams. Ryan falls back, hand on his side, right under his ribs, and lifting his hand, he can see blood on his finger tips. Blair's crying, somewhere behind him, over him, around him, and fuck if it doesn't hurts. Ryan thinks, he never told Blair to call Seth if something happened, and after that, nothingness.
Ryan blinks, and even the movement is too much for him. He grimaces, groans, and tries to hide his face from the intensity of the light that seems to come from everywhere.
"Hey, hey. Easy there dude, you don't wanna pull out your stitches."
"Wha-?"
"Wait. One second. Don't move."
Ryan wants to snort at the stupid implication and sarcasm in that sentence, though he recognizes Seth's tone and knows there was really no sarcasm in there, but fears that the sole movement might be too much for him.
After a moment, there's something cold and slippery on his tongue, and Ryan lets out sigh as his burning throat, which he only now realizes was burning, cools down. "Thanks," he says through the ice in his mouth, and his voice sounds steadier than before.
It takes Ryan a moment to blink and focus, and even so, there is bleariness around him like a blanket, and numbness in most of his chest and stomach.
He frowns, seeing Seth for the first time since he opened his eyes, and it's easy to see the way Seth's forehead is creased with worry and how his eyes shine just a little too bright. "Seth? What--?" He takes a deep breath that ends up short and tight. "What happened?"
Seth laughs, a nervous sound that does nothing to alleviate Ryan's nerves. "Dude. Really. I thought--" He coughs, rubbing his eyes with his palms, as if trying to clear his head from the fatigue, but Ryan can see through the action.
"Hey," Ryan repeats, his voice hoarse, right hand reaching out for Seth. He notices, as his fingers touch Seth's forearm, that there's a tube coming out of the back of his hand. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here."
Seth nods, letting his hands fall from his face and, instead, taking Ryan's outstretched hand in his. He squeezes lightly, careful of the IV tube. "It's okay. I mean, I'm okay. So are you." He chuckles, an almost desperate sound. "You were in surgery, and God, scare the crap out of me, dude, why don't you?" He closes his eyes for a second. "Sorry, sorry. It wasn't your fault. That whole thing-- It doesn't matter. It wasn't your fault." Seth looks over his shoulder, toward the door, before looking back at Ryan. "The parents are outside, talking to your doctor. They said a minute and it's been longer than that. The Social Services woman should be there, too. They're making "arrangements"."
Ryan frowns, and his next question turns into a cough. He closes his eyes, stinging behind and around them. His chest is tight and it feels like the air is being sucked out of his lungs, through his fucking nose.
There are hands on his hair and chest, pushing him back against the pillows and rolling him over. "Shh, shh," he can hear, in his ear, around him, and he might be able to place the voice if it didn't feel like he was about to cough up bile.
After a moment that lasts longer than it should, Ryan breathes in, the air actually entering his burning lungs, and he opens his eyes. There's a smile on pink lips, blue eyes shining as they see him, and for a second, Ryan thinks it might be his mother, and then, there's a voice, quiet and comforting. "It's okay, sweetie. It's okay," it says and Ryan knows it can't be his mom.
He focuses on the face before him and it's not Seth, because Ryan can see over their shoulder that Seth's standing back, almost against the wall, arms folded over his chest and looking worriedly at him. Ryan's gaze shifts to the face before him, Kirsten's eyes and voice.
"It's okay, can you breathe now? You okay?" She looks behind her at Seth, narrowing her eyes as she did so. "We shouldn't have left Seth alone, Sandy, I told you so."
Sandy sighs, Ryan can hear it, but looking for the source seems like too much work at the moment. "We were right outside, Kirsten. It took us less than two seconds to walk in."
Kirsten turns around, looking at Ryan, and he can't help but wonder who this woman is and why she looks so much like Mrs. Cohen. The last time she looked at him, well, she was nowhere this nice.
She gives him a tentative smile, hand reaching to touch his hair. Ryan freezes, his whole body tensing, and she hesitates for a moment before letting herself touch the line of his hair.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't..." She sighs, her hand pausing before continuing touching, almost caressing the side of his face. "I shouldn't have treated you like that. That was totally uncalled for."
"Mrs. Co--"
"Call me Kirsten, please." She swallows, her eyes shinning, and it reminds him of Seth, a moment ago.
Sandy appears by Kirsten's side, making Ryan blink and shift focus, his whole brain feeling like it's wrapped in cotton and in a box to ship.
"Hey, Ryan. How you feeling?"
"Tired." Ryan says, trying to smile, and he notices the way Kirsten sighs and lowers her head.
"It's okay," Sandy says, patting Ryan's leg over the sheets. "Just rest, okay? Everything will be okay." He smiles, and half turns around. "Come on, Seth. I'm sure there's something edible in the vending machines, why don't you take a look?"
Ryan looks over Kirsten's shoulder to Sandy, hand on Seth's shoulder, pushing him toward the door.
"But dad--"
"Come on. It won't take long."
Seth sighs, and goes with some reluctance. Ryan leans back on his pillow and closes his eyes. His chest hurts, making it difficult for him to take in a breath, the very air stinging as it makes its way into Ryan's lungs.
"Ryan?"
Somewhere in between his eyes and behind them, it aches, and heaviness clings around him like a blanket, making it hard for him to open his eyes. They are narrow, almost sleepy, and that only adds to the lingering feeling of sleep around the edges of his mind.
"Ryan?"
Ryan blinks, looking at Kirsten, who smiles at him. "What happened?"
"You don't remember much, do you?"
Ryan shakes his head, the movement making him grimace, piercing through his right temple. He remembers the back yard, a ball in his hands. Blair. Screams, somewhere in the background. Kyle.
He opens his eyes, wide and fearful, and he looks at Kirsten. She's smiling at him, something sad in the gesture, and her hand falls to his cheek, caressing it with so much kindness it makes him hurt inside.
"Mrs. Langly told us everything." She sighs, her hand still for a moment before resuming her caresses. "Seth called you on Saturday afternoon. That's how we found out. She told him that you were in the hospital, had just been admitted, and we came in."
It's the we in that sentence that surprises him. He blinks, eyes unfocused for a second, trying to remember more. Blair, he remembers. Blair, standing behind him, Kyle before him.
"Kyle Keen tried to hurt Blair, didn't he?"
Sandy's voice catches him by surprise, and Ryan opens his eyes, looking at him. Ryan sighs, and after a moment, the memory eluding him, but the knowledge there, ever-present, he nods. "He wanted to rape him. Kyle said he'd..."
"We know," Sandy stands behind Kirsten, his hand moving rest on Ryan's leg, and he doesn't flinch. Ryan surprise himself at the lack of response. "Blair told Mrs. Langly what happened. They called an ambulance, admitted you to the hospital right away."
"How is he? Blair's only fourteen."
Sandy nods. "We know. They're placing him in another house, with kids his age. He'll be the oldest there."
Ryan sighs, leaning back against the pillow. Thank god. Oldest there, that'll give him an advantage. He's small for his age, won't probably grow much, but being the oldest at least will give him an edge.
"Kyle ran away."
Well, it's not like Ryan expected him to wait there and get arrested, did he? "It's okay."
"They're looking for him," Kirsten says, and Ryan can almost hear the anger in her voice. "He stabbed you, Ryan. He can't just--"
"It doesn't matter."
Kirsten blinks, head tilted to the side, and presses her lips into a thin line. She's upset, Ryan can tell, and pissed off, and for the first time since he's met her, it surprises him that it's not directed at him. "I still hope they catch him."
Due to her tone of voice, and Ryan's own reluctance to make a big deal out of something that can't be helped, they silently decide that that's the end of the matter.
"When can I go back to the house?" Ryan asks, head rolled to his left, away from the Cohens. He might not like it there, sure, but he likes it even less here. And if Kyle is gone and Blair has found a new house, then, well, Jack and Jason aren't really that bad.
They don't answer, not for a moment, a couple of seconds, and Ryan can't help but wonder if maybe there's something wrong with him. It was just a knife, not too deep and certainly not bad enough that he'd need to stay long, but then again, Seth did say he was in surgery, and Ryan's certain that can't mean he's fine.
"You won't be going back to that place," Kirsten says with a hiss, with so much disgust in that last word that Ryan blinks, taken back.
He remembers what they said, what Mr. Cohen said. It's either this or going with his mom. "You found my mom?"
Kirsten takes Ryan's right hand in hers, thoughtfully aware of the IV in the back of his palm. She touches his knuckles with her fingertips. "She felt she couldn't trust herself to take care of you at the moment."
No matter how nicely Mrs. Cohen puts it, Ryan knows that it's as simple as the fact that his mom walked out on him. She left him, again, because she'd rather leave him in the hands of the government than take responsibility herself.
He wonders for a fleeting moment if they maybe found her drunk or high, if she asked them for money, if she offered to blow Sandy as payment. Ryan can't help but feel mortified at the thought alone, of every little thing she could have told them. He knows Dawn, and he knows she can't keep her mouth shut, and it's one thing for them to assume whatever it is they want about him, but fucking different to know, by his mother's own words, about his past. She could have told them everything, anything, about his dad. About Trey. About AJ, the way he used to leave the coke lying around, hit him whenever he fucking wanted and she wouldn't say a damn thing.
Ryan closes his eyes shut, turning his face away.
They could know about all those times in the hospital, everything he has had broken by Trey and his friends, the so called accidents -- everything. He'd rather not see them.
"Oh," he says, the word leaving his lips before he thinks about it. It's okay, better yet. He didn't want to go back to his mom.
Still, that doesn't make sense. If his mom has bailed on him once again, and he can't go back to the house--
"Sandy and I talked to Child Services this morning."
Ryan blinks, confused, looking at Kirsten. She looks back at him and he thinks she looks nervous. You shouldn't have done that, is the first thing that comes to Ryan's mind. He's fine where he is. Sure, Kyle, Ryan did not expect, but Jack and Jason, they are cool, and Ryan can hold his ground. He's fine.
"We want you to stay with us."
If there was one sentence he expected from her mouth, this was not it.
"What?" The word comes out of Ryan's mouth like a breath, barely even audible.
Kirsten smiles at him. "But there's a catch."
Of course there is. There always is.
"Because you're a minor," she continues, "the only way they'll allow that to happen is if we assume all legal responsibility for you."
Ryan shakes his head, looking at Sandy over Kirsten's shoulder. "I can't... I can't ask you guys to do that."
Sandy's grinning, from ear to ear, almost bouncing in place, and Ryan can see where Seth got his exuberance from. "Well, you don't have to. We're asking you."
Kirsten nods, patting his hand, still in her hold. "We've all talked about it, all three of us, and we want to be your legal guardians. We want you to be part of the family. If you want to be."
There's no need, he wants to say. I'm fine. I like it where am I, but he knows he's lying through his teeth, and though there's his pride, Ryan can't help but think about a home and a bed and Seth, with him, playing video games in the den, and it's too sweet a thought to let it go.
"Are you sure?" He can't help but ask, because this is his life they are talking about, and as good as the mere thought of it sounds, he needs to know if they mean it, that they won't back down. "What if you change your minds?"
He looks at Kirsten, and he doesn't do it on purpose, but she lowers her gaze to his bedspread and tightens her hold on his hand.
"We won't," she says, looking up at him, her blue eyes wide and sincere, and they remind him nothing of his mother. "There's only one thing we need to ask you, and it's that you stay out of trouble."
"You're still on probation," Sandy says, head tilted to the side and a serious look on his face. "And Child Services will be up our ass all the time."
"No more trouble." Ryan can't quite believe he's saying this, he's agreeing to this. He'd give them anything, if they asked. "I promise."
Kirsten nods, chuckling, and Ryan notices that her eyes are clear and shining, that there's light in them and she's nice, so nice, and tender and motherly. He has never known someone who radiates motherly concern like her.
She tightens her hold on his hand, so tight he grimaces, but she doesn't seem to notice, instead, she says. "Then, welcome to our family, Ryan."
She opens her arms, tentatively, and he leans forward, wincing as he does so, pulling slightly on his side, but she hugs him, carefully and lovingly, and he sighs, taking in a shaky breath. She smells like roses and lilies, like oranges and perfume he doesn't recognize, but he knows he will.
When she pulls away, Sandy's by the nightstand, hand outstretched, and Ryan takes it, smiling as he does so.
"Okay, Seth." Kirsten looks over her shoulder as she says this, "you can come in now."
Ryan turns to look at the door, and Seth peaks his head inside, grin on his lips, and Ryan rolls his eyes. Seth walks in, looking so very pleased, smug, and happy all in one, and Ryan smiles, biting his lower lip.
A moment later, there's a knock on the door, and a nurse walks. "I'm sorry," the woman says, "Mr. and Mrs. Cohen? There's some paperwork that needs to be filled."
They nod, and Kirsten excuses herself as she stands up. "We'll be right back."
"You knew about this and didn't say anything." Ryan turns to look at Seth, one eyebrow raised.
Seth laughs, shrugging even as he takes the seat Kirsten vacated. "I didn't want to jinx it."
Ryan sighs, looking toward the closed door. Kirsten and Sandy. God. The Cohens. A house. A home.
"You surprised about mom?"
Ryan blinks, surprised, biting his lower lip. Kirsten is, after all, Seth's mom, and whatever his thoughts and feelings about that woman were before, she's taken over raising him now, and he can't very well bad mouth her.
Seth chuckles. "Dude. It's okay. I know she was a little bit hard on you, and whatnot, but I explained. I told her about the beach house thing, how it was totally Luke's fault. And Mrs. Langly told her about Blair and you saving him." He nods, enthusiastically, and Ryan smiles, the action easy on his lips. "Dude, really. You should have seen her yesterday, when we first arrived. She was so pissed off. She yelled at the doctor, did she tell you?"
"What?"
"Yeah! You should have seen her. She thought you weren't being treated, because we couldn't find your room number, and she started yelling and demanding and being pissed off. I'm telling you this right now, the mom, mad? Scary sight." He shrugs. "But she calmed down once they told us where you were."
They fall into silence for a moment, but Seth seems to find more to talk about.
"They talked to Mrs. Langly too."
Ryan smirks, thinking about the woman in charge of the Group Home. "You already said that."
"I did? Oh, well," Seth narrows his eyes, leaning forward, and Ryan's surprised that Seth takes his hand in both of his. "Did I also tell you that the mom yelled at that woman?"
"What?" He asks, head tilted to the side, eyebrow raised.
"Yes! I didn't hear everything, but I heard mom yelling at her, asking her how could she be so careless about all of you, how could she let a guy like that Kyle into the house and all that. God, she was pissed. I don't know what Mrs. Langly answered, but mom wasn't happy with the answer. She kept on yelling at her. It was fun to watch."
Seth swallows, almost nervously, and for a second Ryan wonders what Seth'll say next and if he might not like it.
"They talked to your mom too."
In a second, in a heartbeat, the breath seems to leave Ryan's lungs. Just like he feared. He swallows, nodding as he does so. I thought so, he wants to say, but the words don't quite leave his mouth.
"I mean, I don't know what they said. I didn't go with them." Seth sighs, rubbing his face with one hand before gripping Ryan's hand once again. "They didn't let me. They left yesterday morning, very early. I don't know what they said, but by lunch, they were asking me if I'd mind if you were to stay with us." Seth chuckle, low on his throat. "I mean, I mind? It was my idea in the first place, you'd think they'd remember that. So, hmm. You cool with you staying with us? I mean, you do want it, right? You wanna go home with us, right?"
What can Ryan say to that, really? He'll have a house to stay in. A home, Seth's words running through his head. A home. Ryan smiles, ducking his head. "Yeah, I think so."
Looking up, Ryan can see Seth grinning, bouncing on his seat, and the smile spreads on his lips.
"I heard dad talking to Dr. Kim this morning as well. He explained why I had to miss school and all that--"
Ryan frowns. "Miss school? What day is it?"
Seth grimaces. "It's Monday afternoon. The surgery finished very late on Saturday night. I think you woke up yesterday for a minute, but you just blinked. Do you remember yesterday?"
Ryan shakes his head. He had been sure it was Sunday.
"Oh, it's okay. The doctor said it was the painkillers." He shrugs. "Anyway, like I said, dad also told Dr. Kim about signing you up there. Dude, we could go to school together."
"What, where? Seth, I'm signed up--"
"Yes, but mom said," Seth explains, easily, leaning forward slightly, "that it'd be better if we went together. She could drop us off there every morning and we'd head back together. She has a meeting with Dr. Kim, that's the Dean, tomorrow afternoon. You'll have to catch up on one week of classes, but it wasn't much."
"It's okay. I mean, Newport Union--"
"You know the mom." Seth squeezes Ryan's hand, smile on his lips. "I mean, you haven't seen her mad, but I'm telling you, you do not want to piss her off." He shrugs. "Besides, Harbor is cool. Hmm. Well, there's Luke and all, but it'll be way better with you there."
Ryan nods, blinking, leaning his head back. His eyes start closing, and he can feel himself relaxing, slowly.
"Oh, also? Dude. You are so not lucky. Cotillion got postponed. Something about leaking pipes and it's going to be this weekend." Ryan can hear Seth chuckling, and the sound it's soothing in itself. "I bet mom will want us there. You're gonna wear a tux."
"A tux?" The words are slightly slurred, but Seth doesn't seem to notice.
"Yep. We'll probably get new ones. It could be worse. It could be tails." Ryan can very easily picture Seth shuddering. "Ryan? Oh. Right. The doctor said you should rest."
Ryan chuckles, though the sound is nothing more than a grunt as it leaves his lips.
"Sorry," Seth says, and Ryan hears only sound reaching his ears, his eyes closed, lids heavy. "It's okay. Sleep." Seth squeezes his right hand, and then there's a hand holding on Ryan's forearm, like a lifeline. He doesn't know if it's for Seth or for himself. "The parents are right outside. I'm here. Just rest. When you wake up I'll tell you about mom talking about painting the room next to mine so you can have it."
Ryan nods, hearing more words coming from Seth's lips but not understanding them. He smiles, and a second later, as he's about to fall asleep, he hears the door opening. There are more words, which don't make any sense, but he recognizes Sandy and Kirsten, and finally, he can sleep.
Author's note: Text in italics in the first scene is something of a flashback to what happened after Seth run into Ryan leaving the pool house in the first minutes of "The Model home". Figured, well, I'd make a mention of it, in case it wasn't clear. *g*
Part one
Part three
The better version