Playing The Hero (2/5)
Here's part 2 of the death fic.
To those of you who wanted a nice deathbed scene, sorry. I wasn't that nice to any of them, I'm afraid...
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.
A/N : A plot-less, angsty, drabbly five-shots. I'm blaming this one on a comment made by mel39. Clearly, this is all her fault… Also, katwoman76, I'm terribly sorry about this; I swear, I won't do it again.
And thanks to the awsome joey51 for beta'ing this.
Part II
"I'm so terribly sorry," the doctor says.
They're all standing in the middle of the corridor; the doctor, a forty-something, greying man, looks like he tells this kind of news a few dozen times a week, to dozens of families, which he probably does, come to think of it.
The first, absurd thought that goes through Sandy's mind is that it would be easier, somehow, if the person to tell them that Ryan had died during the surgery, "despite all our best efforts," had never done that before, and would never do it again.
Perhaps it would make it sound less… insignificant.
Perhaps then, it wouldn't sound like Ryan was just a number on the list of people that couldn't be saved.
The doctor tells them, "I'll be around if you want to talk to me," and leaves.
Then, simultaneously, Kirsten starts crying and Seth runs out of the room.
For a few seconds, all Sandy can do is stand there, arms hanging at his side.
Then, his mother, God bless her caring, hard-ass, no-nonsense ways, rushes after Seth, but not before yelling at Sandy to take care of Kirsten.
So, Sandy wraps his arms around the shaking, crying Kirsten, feels her tears going through the fabric of his shirt, and for the life of him, he can't understand what happened and why he feels so shattered.
***
"He saved that girl's life," the cop is saying.
Seth snorts, his eyes and nose red, his hair unkempt.
Sandy has finally managed to convince Kirsten to go back to the Nana's place and to take a sleeping pill, and Sandy trusts that his mother will make sure that there isn't a drop of alcohol left in the house by the time Kirsten wakes up.
And now Sandy is left here to deal with the "details," and trying very hard not to think about the fact that they're discussing Ryan's death-the death of his son.
"What?" Sandy says.
"There was a girl, she was being attacked, and your son saved her life."
And died in the process, a little part of Sandy's brain starts chanting.
The cop is still standing there, obviously waiting for a reaction, but Sandy doesn't have a reaction.
He stopped feeling when his mother called and said, "Sandy, Ryan's in the hospital, and I'm sorry, but you need to get on the first flight here."
His mother didn't answer any of Sandy's questions, he remembers that now.
She just said to hurry, that the doctors were doing everything they could, that she would stay with Ryan until Sandy and Kirsten arrived.
Sandy and Kirsten rushed to the airport, and when they learned that their flight was delayed, Sandy thought that at least, if Ryan woke up, there'd be someone he knows with him. He remembers feeling grateful that his mother had decided that she didn't like Florida after all and was back in New York.
He spent the flight squeezing Kirsten's hand, and neither of them said a word, until they reached the hospital and took one look at his mother's face.
Sandy has to close his eyes for a moment, as he remembers how… compassionate, his mother had looked.
He saved her life.
Naturally, Ryan had to go and play the hero.
Naturally, he couldn't, for once in his life, call for help before heading into danger.
After all, that's who Ryan is.
Then it dawns on Sandy and he corrects himself.
That's who Ryan was.
Unable to look the other way when people needed his help.
Unable to resist a damsel in distress.
Naturally, he had to try and help the girl.
And die in the process.
***
The cop tells him that the girl will probably want to talk to them at some point, and Sandy nods.
He doesn't know what else to do.
Seth is staring at his hands, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and Sandy puts an arm on his son's shoulder and lets it rest there.
He doesn't know what else to do.
A kind-looking nurse comes to ask him if he wants to see Ryan, and for a brief second, Sandy's heart beats faster-perhaps it was all a horrible mistake, perhaps Ryan is still alive. Then the woman's face softens, still that compassionate look, so Sandy resigns himself and nods: yes, he'd like to see Ryan.
He follows the woman through hallways, elevators, waiting rooms; the journey seems endless, and Sandy wishes it really was, given what awaits him at the end of it.
They enter a room and things get blurry between the moment when Sandy realizes the room is cold and harshly-lit and the moment when he stares down at the face of his son.
He expected Ryan to look cold, or peaceful, or any of those other clichés, but he doesn't.
He just looks dead.
"Did he hurt?" Sandy asks.
"He was unconscious most of the time," the nurse replies.
"Was he…"
Was he scared?
Did he ask for us?
Was he scared?
Did he know what was happening to him?
Was he scared?
Was he in pain?
"He woke up a few times and we kept him as comfortable as we could," the nurse says. "He was under anaesthesia when he…" She trails off then adds with a reassuring smile, "He wasn't in any pain."
She sounds nice and convincing, yet Sandy is far from convinced.
He wants to know the truth, wants to know if Ryan knew what was happening to him, but at the same time, he really doesn't want to know, and he's almost grateful for his ignorance.
It hurts enough already, it hurts too much already, to know that Ryan is dead. Sandy isn't sure he could take it if someone told him that Ryan was scared and hurting when he died.
The nurse leaves with a soft, "I'll be right there if you need me."
Sandy puts a tentative hand on Ryan's forehead, finds it cold and starts crying.
He doesn't know what else to do.
Part Three
To those of you who wanted a nice deathbed scene, sorry. I wasn't that nice to any of them, I'm afraid...
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.
A/N : A plot-less, angsty, drabbly five-shots. I'm blaming this one on a comment made by mel39. Clearly, this is all her fault… Also, katwoman76, I'm terribly sorry about this; I swear, I won't do it again.
And thanks to the awsome joey51 for beta'ing this.
Part II
"I'm so terribly sorry," the doctor says.
They're all standing in the middle of the corridor; the doctor, a forty-something, greying man, looks like he tells this kind of news a few dozen times a week, to dozens of families, which he probably does, come to think of it.
The first, absurd thought that goes through Sandy's mind is that it would be easier, somehow, if the person to tell them that Ryan had died during the surgery, "despite all our best efforts," had never done that before, and would never do it again.
Perhaps it would make it sound less… insignificant.
Perhaps then, it wouldn't sound like Ryan was just a number on the list of people that couldn't be saved.
The doctor tells them, "I'll be around if you want to talk to me," and leaves.
Then, simultaneously, Kirsten starts crying and Seth runs out of the room.
For a few seconds, all Sandy can do is stand there, arms hanging at his side.
Then, his mother, God bless her caring, hard-ass, no-nonsense ways, rushes after Seth, but not before yelling at Sandy to take care of Kirsten.
So, Sandy wraps his arms around the shaking, crying Kirsten, feels her tears going through the fabric of his shirt, and for the life of him, he can't understand what happened and why he feels so shattered.
***
"He saved that girl's life," the cop is saying.
Seth snorts, his eyes and nose red, his hair unkempt.
Sandy has finally managed to convince Kirsten to go back to the Nana's place and to take a sleeping pill, and Sandy trusts that his mother will make sure that there isn't a drop of alcohol left in the house by the time Kirsten wakes up.
And now Sandy is left here to deal with the "details," and trying very hard not to think about the fact that they're discussing Ryan's death-the death of his son.
"What?" Sandy says.
"There was a girl, she was being attacked, and your son saved her life."
And died in the process, a little part of Sandy's brain starts chanting.
The cop is still standing there, obviously waiting for a reaction, but Sandy doesn't have a reaction.
He stopped feeling when his mother called and said, "Sandy, Ryan's in the hospital, and I'm sorry, but you need to get on the first flight here."
His mother didn't answer any of Sandy's questions, he remembers that now.
She just said to hurry, that the doctors were doing everything they could, that she would stay with Ryan until Sandy and Kirsten arrived.
Sandy and Kirsten rushed to the airport, and when they learned that their flight was delayed, Sandy thought that at least, if Ryan woke up, there'd be someone he knows with him. He remembers feeling grateful that his mother had decided that she didn't like Florida after all and was back in New York.
He spent the flight squeezing Kirsten's hand, and neither of them said a word, until they reached the hospital and took one look at his mother's face.
Sandy has to close his eyes for a moment, as he remembers how… compassionate, his mother had looked.
He saved her life.
Naturally, Ryan had to go and play the hero.
Naturally, he couldn't, for once in his life, call for help before heading into danger.
After all, that's who Ryan is.
Then it dawns on Sandy and he corrects himself.
That's who Ryan was.
Unable to look the other way when people needed his help.
Unable to resist a damsel in distress.
Naturally, he had to try and help the girl.
And die in the process.
***
The cop tells him that the girl will probably want to talk to them at some point, and Sandy nods.
He doesn't know what else to do.
Seth is staring at his hands, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and Sandy puts an arm on his son's shoulder and lets it rest there.
He doesn't know what else to do.
A kind-looking nurse comes to ask him if he wants to see Ryan, and for a brief second, Sandy's heart beats faster-perhaps it was all a horrible mistake, perhaps Ryan is still alive. Then the woman's face softens, still that compassionate look, so Sandy resigns himself and nods: yes, he'd like to see Ryan.
He follows the woman through hallways, elevators, waiting rooms; the journey seems endless, and Sandy wishes it really was, given what awaits him at the end of it.
They enter a room and things get blurry between the moment when Sandy realizes the room is cold and harshly-lit and the moment when he stares down at the face of his son.
He expected Ryan to look cold, or peaceful, or any of those other clichés, but he doesn't.
He just looks dead.
"Did he hurt?" Sandy asks.
"He was unconscious most of the time," the nurse replies.
"Was he…"
Was he scared?
Did he ask for us?
Was he scared?
Did he know what was happening to him?
Was he scared?
Was he in pain?
"He woke up a few times and we kept him as comfortable as we could," the nurse says. "He was under anaesthesia when he…" She trails off then adds with a reassuring smile, "He wasn't in any pain."
She sounds nice and convincing, yet Sandy is far from convinced.
He wants to know the truth, wants to know if Ryan knew what was happening to him, but at the same time, he really doesn't want to know, and he's almost grateful for his ignorance.
It hurts enough already, it hurts too much already, to know that Ryan is dead. Sandy isn't sure he could take it if someone told him that Ryan was scared and hurting when he died.
The nurse leaves with a soft, "I'll be right there if you need me."
Sandy puts a tentative hand on Ryan's forehead, finds it cold and starts crying.
He doesn't know what else to do.
Part Three