OC Fic : Twelve Things That Never Happened to Ryan Atwood
This once was originally going to be part 4 of the 12 Things series. But I don't like it, and I can't quite make it work (maybe because I wrote it before S4 aired and then it got, well, Joshed), so I used The Price We Pay as part 4 instead.
However, since I do like the ending of this one, I'm posting it anyway. Consider it… a bonus track.
Title : Twelve Things That Never Happened to Ryan Atwood
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Twelve things that never happened to Ryan. D'uh.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Many thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this!
Twelve Things That Never Happened to Ryan Atwood
Helen C.
family ties
Part one
Seth has been chattering non stop ever since they left Lindsay's house, and Ryan tries to bite back a yawn. Sometimes, he wonders where his friend gets all this energy. Ryan can party with the best of them, thank you very much, but the day has been draining in more ways than one and all he wants right now is collapse in his bed and sleep for a few days straight. Yet, Seth seems ready for a redo.
"So, this is why Chrismukkah is so much more awesome than all the other holidays combined," Seth finishes. Ryan doesn't point out that Chrismukkah is several holidays combined. At this point, he's just relieved that Seth has stopped talking. He hopes that the long, long, long demonstration on the powers of Chrismukkah is over.
He should have known better. "I'm telling you, man."
Ryan closes his eyes in frustration.
Of course, it's not over.
This is Seth.
It's never over when Seth is around.
"Only good things can happen on Chrismukkah."
Ryan emerges from his daze long enough to shoot him a disbelieving look. "I almost got arrested last year," he reminds Seth. "Twice."
"But you weren't."
Ryan wants to roll his eyes at Seth so. very. much., but he's too tired for that, so he settles for a glare. "Lindsay learned that your grandfather was her father. It was traumatic for, well, pretty much everyone."
"But Summer got an opportunity to save Chrismukkah. And Lindsay seemed better when we left. And I'm sure Mom will love having a younger sister."
Ryan could point out that Seth's mom's foster son really wants to date her newfound young sister.
He could point out that Kirsten just had a big falling out with her dad and that this is a wound that's going to take time to heal.
He could point out that things will not be easy for Lindsay, or for her mom.
There wouldn't be any point, though.
When Seth is out on one of this "convert the world to the delights of Chrismukkah" missions, he's pretty much unstoppable. It would take something big-a storm, a typhoon, maybe even an earthquake-to make Seth stop, and Ryan's only one guy.
Thankfully, they're reaching the Cohen house. Maybe Seth will actually go to bed. And if he doesn't, well, Ryan doesn't want to resort to violence, but considering the day he just had, he won't allow principles to stand in the way.
If knocking Seth's lights out is the only way to get him to shut up, he'll do it.
He's pretty sure Sandy and Kirsten won't even be too mad.
He shakes his head, thinking he must be more tired than he thought if the idea of punching Seth is actually amusing him. And anyway, the Cohens are following them and maybe they'll manage to slip some tranquilizers into Seth's drink before it comes to that.
The headlights hit the door for a few moments before Seth shuts down the car. It lasts long enough for Ryan to see a huddled figure sitting on the front steps and suddenly, he feels very alert again.
Most of the people the Cohens know just enter the house uninvited-this is a gated community, it's not like people lock their doors (much to Ryan's annoyance. Sometimes, he dearly wishes the pool house had a working lock. Or two. Of course, that wouldn't be an issue if Seth had any sense of propriety and of respecting other people's privacy, but that's not the point right now).
Who could be sitting there in the middle of the night, and on Christmas, no less?
Seth, oblivious and still talking a mile a minute, gets out of the car. Ryan hurriedly follows-not that he expects trouble, but he just can't shake the impression that something is about to happen.
This is Newport; things (and not always good ones) usually happen.
The figure sitting on the front porch slowly gets to its feet, and Ryan needs a moment to make out the man's features.
Then, his breath catches in his throat as he recognizes him.
Seth stops talking abruptly. "Huh, who are you?" he asks. Ryan forces himself to breathe in, never taking his eyes from the man.
"Ryan?"
His father makes a move towards him and Ryan reflexively steps back, his whole body suddenly tense. His father stops dead, hesitant.
"Dad?" Ryan doesn't recognize his own voice-shaky and hoarse, not at all like himself.
Seth's mouth drops open. Under other circumstances, maybe Ryan would find it funny.
Ryan's father is frozen, a few feet from him, and Ryan resists the urge to take another step back. What are you doing here? he wants to ask. Why are you here and what do you want and how long have you been waiting and when did you get out of jail and how did you find me and-
Sandy's car drives up to them, putting a stop to Ryan's swirling thoughts.
***
The arrival of the elder Cohens doesn't make things easier, but at least, time starts flowing again.
Sandy gets out of the car and marches to the group, a guarded smile on his lips. "Hello. I'm Sandy Cohen." He gets between Ryan's father and Seth and Ryan, and Ryan feels torn between respect and amusement, and vows again that whatever happens, he'll be just like Sandy when he grows up.
"I'm, er, William. Atwood." Ryan's father nervously offers his hand. Sandy shakes it, no less nervously, shooting a glance at Ryan-who still hasn't moved, still hasn't stopped looking at his father, mesmerized.
How old was he when he last saw him? Six? Seven?
They didn't have many pictures of him in the first place, and most of them got lost in the move to Chino. He tries to remember what his father looked like back then; was he as thin as he is now? Did he seem so unsure of himself? So wary?
Sandy looks at Ryan again, then focuses back on William. "This is my wife, Kirsten," he says, gesturing at Kirsten, who's still standing near the car. At Sandy's words, she starts smiling and approaches, patting Ryan's back softly as she passes him.
"My son Seth," Sandy goes on, gesturing to a still tongue tied Seth. He then turns to Ryan, at a loss.
"Nice to meet you," Ryan's father says. He clears his throat, his gaze settling on Ryan again. "I'm not here to cause trouble," he says. "I just… I just wanted to see you."
Ryan swallows and nods dumbly.
"Are you… I mean, I can go."
He's taking a step back, apparently ready to flee, and Ryan gets himself together long enough to call him back. "No. Wait. I don't…" He glances at Sandy helplessly, but he has the feeling that no matter how good Sandy has always been at guessing what Ryan thinks, he won't be able to read Ryan's mind this time. "It's okay," he says lamely. "I was just surprised."
His father nods. "I know. I should have called. I wasn't so sure you wouldn't hang up on me, though, and I wanted to see you."
"And now you've seen him!" Seth's high-pitched voice makes Ryan wince. "See, buddy, I told you, it's the Chrismukkah-"
Ryan snaps, "Shut up!" at the same time Sandy and Kirsten yell, "Seth!"
For a moment, everything stops again. Seth actually cows back, looking a little offended, and Ryan tries to offer an apologetic smile, hoping it doesn't look too much like a grimace.
"Do you think, maybe, we could talk?" his father asks. His voice is rougher than Ryan remembers-or at least, he thinks so; for the first time, he wishes his memories of Fresno were clearer, wishes he had more to go on than this vague gut-feeling and Trey and Dawn's stories of drinking and yelling and cops showing up.
Ryan nods jerkily, gestures in the direction of the pool house. "My room's over there." Just as he's about to go, Sandy takes his arm.
"You okay, kid?"
His voice is low enough that Ryan's father won't hear him, but clear enough for Ryan.
"Sure. I'm just… I…" He trails off, frustrated.
"Wasn't expecting this?"
"Right."
Sandy gives his arm a small squeeze. "We're here."
"I know."
Ryan tries to smile but the way he feels right now, it must be frightening more than reassuring.
He gently shakes off Sandy's hold and heads to the pool house, hearing his father's footsteps following him.
***
"So…" His father stops, looking around. "Nice room."
"Yeah." Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan sees the kitchen lights coming on in the house. He's sure that at least one of the Cohens must be not-so-discreetly sneaking glances towards the pool house, making sure that things are going well.
"They seem like good people."
"They are."
His father rubs his eyes. "I should have called," he whispers. "I just… I didn't mean to surprise you like that. But when I finally found Dawn, and she told me that Trey was in jail and you weren't living with her anymore, I was worried."
"How are they?" Ryan asks, and fuck, but why does it still matter so much to him? Both Dawn and Trey made it clear he wasn't to contact them again, so why should he bother caring? "Mom and Trey?"
"Trey is… angry." His father smiles humorlessly. "He didn't speak to me very long. Dawn… Dawn isn't doing so well."
Ryan knows what that means-Dawn is either on a bender, or using again. It's not like he expected anything else, but it still hurts.
"How are you?" his father asks, almost pleadingly, as if he needs to hear that Ryan, at least, isn't slowly killing himself, isn't allowing his past to win.
"Good. The Cohens have been very nice." His father seems to expect more, so Ryan adds, "I'm going to school, the guidance counselor tells me I might get into college yet."
His father doesn't say he always knew Ryan was the smart one, and Ryan is grateful for that. He heard it enough from Dawn, and he knows what it meant coming from her-her trusted kid, the one who had the smarts to make everything better, the one who could take charge, the one who could convince the landlord to extend their credit another day, the one who could steal the food when they couldn't pay for it. Her little helper.
He doesn't want his father dropping those kind of expectations on him. The man just got out of jail, he might be heading back there fast for all Ryan knows, and even if he isn't, he lost all right to expect anything from Ryan when he got arrested and left him with Dawn.
"That's great," his father says.
Ryan feels he has to ask. "How about you?"
"Fine. I was released two months ago. I needed some time to get my head together, or I'd have contacted you sooner. I'm… I'm really trying to make a new life for myself, son."
Ryan nods.
He knows how hard that can be.
He knows how much a person's past can cling to him and color the way people look at him.
He knows the kind of hard work that's required to make things work with a record, and it'll be a lot harder for his father than it is for him.
"Okay."
"I'm not going to ask you to live with me." His father lets out a nervous laugh. "I can barely keep myself afloat as it is."
Ryan nods. He never expected his father to ask for that, and he'd refuse if he did.
Would you, bro? Trey's voice asks, taunting. Would you, really?
"But could we, maybe, meet, sometimes?" his father asks.
The unspoken I'd like to get to know you hangs in the air.
"I don't know," Ryan says before he can think about it. His father's face falls. "I'll just… Can you give me a number? I'll think about it, okay?"
His father hastily hands him a piece of paper with his phone number. Ryan accepts it with a nervous nod.
"I should go," his father says. "I'll just… It's good to see you again, Ryan."
Ryan knows his "Yeah" is half-hearted at best but it's all he can manage. He watches as his father steps out of the pool house and disappears in the dark. How fitting.
Predictably, Sandy doesn't wait more than thirty seconds before knocking on the doorframe.
"Everything okay?"
No. Everything's not okay. He may want a relationship with me, but I'm not sure I can give him one. And I sure didn't want to deal with this today.
"Sure."
Sandy doesn't seem convinced but lets it go.
"Come on," he says, gesturing at the kitchen. "There's still eggnog inside."
Part Two
However, since I do like the ending of this one, I'm posting it anyway. Consider it… a bonus track.
Title : Twelve Things That Never Happened to Ryan Atwood
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Twelve things that never happened to Ryan. D'uh.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Many thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this!
Twelve Things That Never Happened to Ryan Atwood
Helen C.
family ties
Part one
Seth has been chattering non stop ever since they left Lindsay's house, and Ryan tries to bite back a yawn. Sometimes, he wonders where his friend gets all this energy. Ryan can party with the best of them, thank you very much, but the day has been draining in more ways than one and all he wants right now is collapse in his bed and sleep for a few days straight. Yet, Seth seems ready for a redo.
"So, this is why Chrismukkah is so much more awesome than all the other holidays combined," Seth finishes. Ryan doesn't point out that Chrismukkah is several holidays combined. At this point, he's just relieved that Seth has stopped talking. He hopes that the long, long, long demonstration on the powers of Chrismukkah is over.
He should have known better. "I'm telling you, man."
Ryan closes his eyes in frustration.
Of course, it's not over.
This is Seth.
It's never over when Seth is around.
"Only good things can happen on Chrismukkah."
Ryan emerges from his daze long enough to shoot him a disbelieving look. "I almost got arrested last year," he reminds Seth. "Twice."
"But you weren't."
Ryan wants to roll his eyes at Seth so. very. much., but he's too tired for that, so he settles for a glare. "Lindsay learned that your grandfather was her father. It was traumatic for, well, pretty much everyone."
"But Summer got an opportunity to save Chrismukkah. And Lindsay seemed better when we left. And I'm sure Mom will love having a younger sister."
Ryan could point out that Seth's mom's foster son really wants to date her newfound young sister.
He could point out that Kirsten just had a big falling out with her dad and that this is a wound that's going to take time to heal.
He could point out that things will not be easy for Lindsay, or for her mom.
There wouldn't be any point, though.
When Seth is out on one of this "convert the world to the delights of Chrismukkah" missions, he's pretty much unstoppable. It would take something big-a storm, a typhoon, maybe even an earthquake-to make Seth stop, and Ryan's only one guy.
Thankfully, they're reaching the Cohen house. Maybe Seth will actually go to bed. And if he doesn't, well, Ryan doesn't want to resort to violence, but considering the day he just had, he won't allow principles to stand in the way.
If knocking Seth's lights out is the only way to get him to shut up, he'll do it.
He's pretty sure Sandy and Kirsten won't even be too mad.
He shakes his head, thinking he must be more tired than he thought if the idea of punching Seth is actually amusing him. And anyway, the Cohens are following them and maybe they'll manage to slip some tranquilizers into Seth's drink before it comes to that.
The headlights hit the door for a few moments before Seth shuts down the car. It lasts long enough for Ryan to see a huddled figure sitting on the front steps and suddenly, he feels very alert again.
Most of the people the Cohens know just enter the house uninvited-this is a gated community, it's not like people lock their doors (much to Ryan's annoyance. Sometimes, he dearly wishes the pool house had a working lock. Or two. Of course, that wouldn't be an issue if Seth had any sense of propriety and of respecting other people's privacy, but that's not the point right now).
Who could be sitting there in the middle of the night, and on Christmas, no less?
Seth, oblivious and still talking a mile a minute, gets out of the car. Ryan hurriedly follows-not that he expects trouble, but he just can't shake the impression that something is about to happen.
This is Newport; things (and not always good ones) usually happen.
The figure sitting on the front porch slowly gets to its feet, and Ryan needs a moment to make out the man's features.
Then, his breath catches in his throat as he recognizes him.
Seth stops talking abruptly. "Huh, who are you?" he asks. Ryan forces himself to breathe in, never taking his eyes from the man.
"Ryan?"
His father makes a move towards him and Ryan reflexively steps back, his whole body suddenly tense. His father stops dead, hesitant.
"Dad?" Ryan doesn't recognize his own voice-shaky and hoarse, not at all like himself.
Seth's mouth drops open. Under other circumstances, maybe Ryan would find it funny.
Ryan's father is frozen, a few feet from him, and Ryan resists the urge to take another step back. What are you doing here? he wants to ask. Why are you here and what do you want and how long have you been waiting and when did you get out of jail and how did you find me and-
Sandy's car drives up to them, putting a stop to Ryan's swirling thoughts.
***
The arrival of the elder Cohens doesn't make things easier, but at least, time starts flowing again.
Sandy gets out of the car and marches to the group, a guarded smile on his lips. "Hello. I'm Sandy Cohen." He gets between Ryan's father and Seth and Ryan, and Ryan feels torn between respect and amusement, and vows again that whatever happens, he'll be just like Sandy when he grows up.
"I'm, er, William. Atwood." Ryan's father nervously offers his hand. Sandy shakes it, no less nervously, shooting a glance at Ryan-who still hasn't moved, still hasn't stopped looking at his father, mesmerized.
How old was he when he last saw him? Six? Seven?
They didn't have many pictures of him in the first place, and most of them got lost in the move to Chino. He tries to remember what his father looked like back then; was he as thin as he is now? Did he seem so unsure of himself? So wary?
Sandy looks at Ryan again, then focuses back on William. "This is my wife, Kirsten," he says, gesturing at Kirsten, who's still standing near the car. At Sandy's words, she starts smiling and approaches, patting Ryan's back softly as she passes him.
"My son Seth," Sandy goes on, gesturing to a still tongue tied Seth. He then turns to Ryan, at a loss.
"Nice to meet you," Ryan's father says. He clears his throat, his gaze settling on Ryan again. "I'm not here to cause trouble," he says. "I just… I just wanted to see you."
Ryan swallows and nods dumbly.
"Are you… I mean, I can go."
He's taking a step back, apparently ready to flee, and Ryan gets himself together long enough to call him back. "No. Wait. I don't…" He glances at Sandy helplessly, but he has the feeling that no matter how good Sandy has always been at guessing what Ryan thinks, he won't be able to read Ryan's mind this time. "It's okay," he says lamely. "I was just surprised."
His father nods. "I know. I should have called. I wasn't so sure you wouldn't hang up on me, though, and I wanted to see you."
"And now you've seen him!" Seth's high-pitched voice makes Ryan wince. "See, buddy, I told you, it's the Chrismukkah-"
Ryan snaps, "Shut up!" at the same time Sandy and Kirsten yell, "Seth!"
For a moment, everything stops again. Seth actually cows back, looking a little offended, and Ryan tries to offer an apologetic smile, hoping it doesn't look too much like a grimace.
"Do you think, maybe, we could talk?" his father asks. His voice is rougher than Ryan remembers-or at least, he thinks so; for the first time, he wishes his memories of Fresno were clearer, wishes he had more to go on than this vague gut-feeling and Trey and Dawn's stories of drinking and yelling and cops showing up.
Ryan nods jerkily, gestures in the direction of the pool house. "My room's over there." Just as he's about to go, Sandy takes his arm.
"You okay, kid?"
His voice is low enough that Ryan's father won't hear him, but clear enough for Ryan.
"Sure. I'm just… I…" He trails off, frustrated.
"Wasn't expecting this?"
"Right."
Sandy gives his arm a small squeeze. "We're here."
"I know."
Ryan tries to smile but the way he feels right now, it must be frightening more than reassuring.
He gently shakes off Sandy's hold and heads to the pool house, hearing his father's footsteps following him.
***
"So…" His father stops, looking around. "Nice room."
"Yeah." Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan sees the kitchen lights coming on in the house. He's sure that at least one of the Cohens must be not-so-discreetly sneaking glances towards the pool house, making sure that things are going well.
"They seem like good people."
"They are."
His father rubs his eyes. "I should have called," he whispers. "I just… I didn't mean to surprise you like that. But when I finally found Dawn, and she told me that Trey was in jail and you weren't living with her anymore, I was worried."
"How are they?" Ryan asks, and fuck, but why does it still matter so much to him? Both Dawn and Trey made it clear he wasn't to contact them again, so why should he bother caring? "Mom and Trey?"
"Trey is… angry." His father smiles humorlessly. "He didn't speak to me very long. Dawn… Dawn isn't doing so well."
Ryan knows what that means-Dawn is either on a bender, or using again. It's not like he expected anything else, but it still hurts.
"How are you?" his father asks, almost pleadingly, as if he needs to hear that Ryan, at least, isn't slowly killing himself, isn't allowing his past to win.
"Good. The Cohens have been very nice." His father seems to expect more, so Ryan adds, "I'm going to school, the guidance counselor tells me I might get into college yet."
His father doesn't say he always knew Ryan was the smart one, and Ryan is grateful for that. He heard it enough from Dawn, and he knows what it meant coming from her-her trusted kid, the one who had the smarts to make everything better, the one who could take charge, the one who could convince the landlord to extend their credit another day, the one who could steal the food when they couldn't pay for it. Her little helper.
He doesn't want his father dropping those kind of expectations on him. The man just got out of jail, he might be heading back there fast for all Ryan knows, and even if he isn't, he lost all right to expect anything from Ryan when he got arrested and left him with Dawn.
"That's great," his father says.
Ryan feels he has to ask. "How about you?"
"Fine. I was released two months ago. I needed some time to get my head together, or I'd have contacted you sooner. I'm… I'm really trying to make a new life for myself, son."
Ryan nods.
He knows how hard that can be.
He knows how much a person's past can cling to him and color the way people look at him.
He knows the kind of hard work that's required to make things work with a record, and it'll be a lot harder for his father than it is for him.
"Okay."
"I'm not going to ask you to live with me." His father lets out a nervous laugh. "I can barely keep myself afloat as it is."
Ryan nods. He never expected his father to ask for that, and he'd refuse if he did.
Would you, bro? Trey's voice asks, taunting. Would you, really?
"But could we, maybe, meet, sometimes?" his father asks.
The unspoken I'd like to get to know you hangs in the air.
"I don't know," Ryan says before he can think about it. His father's face falls. "I'll just… Can you give me a number? I'll think about it, okay?"
His father hastily hands him a piece of paper with his phone number. Ryan accepts it with a nervous nod.
"I should go," his father says. "I'll just… It's good to see you again, Ryan."
Ryan knows his "Yeah" is half-hearted at best but it's all he can manage. He watches as his father steps out of the pool house and disappears in the dark. How fitting.
Predictably, Sandy doesn't wait more than thirty seconds before knocking on the doorframe.
"Everything okay?"
No. Everything's not okay. He may want a relationship with me, but I'm not sure I can give him one. And I sure didn't want to deal with this today.
"Sure."
Sandy doesn't seem convinced but lets it go.
"Come on," he says, gesturing at the kitchen. "There's still eggnog inside."
Part Two