OC Fic : Twelve Things That Never Happened to Ryan Atwood
And here it is...
Epilogue
Four months later
Ryan pretends to sleep, the regular beeping of the monitors the only noise in the room.
In his mind, all he sees are flashes of the fight-Trey's surprise when Ryan rushed him, the noise of broken glass, Trey's face when the bullet hit him.
Trey, with his hands around Ryan's throat.
The pain.
Ryan resists the urge to touch his bruised neck. Sandy thinks he's asleep and he'd like to keep it that way. He doesn't want to deal with the man's words of comfort right now.
He doesn't want to deal with anything right now.
Seems like the Atwood men truly are pathologically unable to keep their temper in check. He should have known it would end like this.
Hell, he did know it would end like this.
From the minute Trey called from prison, asking for a ride, Ryan knew it could only end badly. But he was giving his father another chance, he couldn't refuse to do the same thing for Trey.
A soft rustling sound startles him and he almost opens his eyes.
"Mr. Cohen?"
His father has been contacted, then.
Ryan doesn't know what he fears the most-his father blaming him, or supporting him.
"Mr. Atwood." Sandy sighs. "Call me Sandy."
"Will."
The two men fall silent, and Ryan feels a hand on his forehead. He forces himself to keep still.
"How is he?"
"Nothing that won't heal. Concussion, stitches, bruises. Two broken ribs."
Ryan feels a hand tracing the bruises on his neck, hears a muttered, "God."
"Have you heard anything about Trey?" Sandy asks after a while.
"He's out of surgery. They don't know anything yet."
Ryan wills the voices away.
What the hell happened to them-both of them? All of them?
His father's voice is heavy with self-recrimination. "I failed them. I failed them both."
Sandy's voice doesn't hold blame, anger, or anything at all. "Yes. I've failed Ryan too. And Trey, in some ways. So has my wife. And don't forget that they made their own choices as well. So, you can continue failing them, or you can try to do better." Sandy's voice gets more tired with each word, as if it's taking all his strength to get it out. When he stops talking, a heavy silence falls on the room.
Ryan feels someone hovering over him. He feels a hand on his hair, a warm breath on his skin as his father leans closer and kisses his forehead.
Then the contact vanishes. For a moment Ryan thinks his father is leaving again, leaving his two sons to deal with their mess without him. Then he hears a chair being dragged across the floor, and a hand comes to rest on his arm.
Feeling safe for the first time in hours, Ryan drifts to sleep.
end
how kid chino won over the grinch. kind of. in a way.
Epilogue
Four months later
Ryan pretends to sleep, the regular beeping of the monitors the only noise in the room.
In his mind, all he sees are flashes of the fight-Trey's surprise when Ryan rushed him, the noise of broken glass, Trey's face when the bullet hit him.
Trey, with his hands around Ryan's throat.
The pain.
Ryan resists the urge to touch his bruised neck. Sandy thinks he's asleep and he'd like to keep it that way. He doesn't want to deal with the man's words of comfort right now.
He doesn't want to deal with anything right now.
Seems like the Atwood men truly are pathologically unable to keep their temper in check. He should have known it would end like this.
Hell, he did know it would end like this.
From the minute Trey called from prison, asking for a ride, Ryan knew it could only end badly. But he was giving his father another chance, he couldn't refuse to do the same thing for Trey.
A soft rustling sound startles him and he almost opens his eyes.
"Mr. Cohen?"
His father has been contacted, then.
Ryan doesn't know what he fears the most-his father blaming him, or supporting him.
"Mr. Atwood." Sandy sighs. "Call me Sandy."
"Will."
The two men fall silent, and Ryan feels a hand on his forehead. He forces himself to keep still.
"How is he?"
"Nothing that won't heal. Concussion, stitches, bruises. Two broken ribs."
Ryan feels a hand tracing the bruises on his neck, hears a muttered, "God."
"Have you heard anything about Trey?" Sandy asks after a while.
"He's out of surgery. They don't know anything yet."
Ryan wills the voices away.
What the hell happened to them-both of them? All of them?
His father's voice is heavy with self-recrimination. "I failed them. I failed them both."
Sandy's voice doesn't hold blame, anger, or anything at all. "Yes. I've failed Ryan too. And Trey, in some ways. So has my wife. And don't forget that they made their own choices as well. So, you can continue failing them, or you can try to do better." Sandy's voice gets more tired with each word, as if it's taking all his strength to get it out. When he stops talking, a heavy silence falls on the room.
Ryan feels someone hovering over him. He feels a hand on his hair, a warm breath on his skin as his father leans closer and kisses his forehead.
Then the contact vanishes. For a moment Ryan thinks his father is leaving again, leaving his two sons to deal with their mess without him. Then he hears a chair being dragged across the floor, and a hand comes to rest on his arm.
Feeling safe for the first time in hours, Ryan drifts to sleep.
end
how kid chino won over the grinch. kind of. in a way.