OC Fic : Chains of Habit (4/5)
Title : Chains of Habit
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Half an hour after the cab had dropped him off down the road, he was still trying to gather the courage to ring the bell. Five 500-words drabbles, because I'm addicted to that format.
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.
Huge thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this. I couldn't avoid some last minute tinkering--all remaining mistakes are mine.
Part Four - Before
Volchok was alone and wasted, snoring on a couch in a room that ranked of alcohol, smoke, and other things Ryan didn't want to think about.
The mere sight of him, sleeping away the day like so many other losers Ryan had met earlier in his life, infuriated him.
He grabbed Volchok's foot and dragged him off the couch, not caring that his fall was accompanied by a loud thump when he landed on the ground.
Then he took a few steps back, crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Volchok to stop spluttering and realize he was there.
*
Predictably, Volchok started out by insulting him.
"Think you're tough?"
Smirking.
"Playing the big guy, trying to look like a fucking bad boy?"
Provoking him.
"What are you gonna do?"
Assigning blame.
"She died because of you."
Echoing words that haunted Ryan in the darkest hours of the night.
"You're the one who wouldn't pull over."
Reminding him that they were both at fault.
"You're the one who kept driving."
Both guilty.
"You're the one who killed her."
Smiling like nothing could touch him.
"What are you gonna do, huh?"
Volchok's smile faded when Ryan pointed the loaded gun at him, hand steady.
"Look, man." Volchok swallowed thickly. "Let's not…"
He looked around nervously, as if help was going to materialize out of nowhere.
Ryan didn't say a word-hadn't said a word since entering the building.
"I'm sorry," Volchok tried again.
Ryan didn't react. He had thought that confronting Volchok would help him find closure.
He was disappointed but not really surprised to realize that it probably wouldn't work.
He didn't have anything to say, and even of he did… Would Volchok care? Would he see that he had destroyed Marissa's life in the name of a stupid pissing contest?
Volchok's voice was starting to shake. "Man, I-"
She was pulling her life together, Ryan wanted to scream.
She was finally moving on.
It was between you and me, and you had to drag her in the middle of it and look at what you've done!
Volchok was getting paler by the minute. "It won't make you feel better."
Ryan suspected that for once in his life, Volchok was right. "It might," he said anyway.
Volchok shook his head frantically. "No. No, look, I'm sorry. I really am, okay?" His eyes were growing brighter, and Ryan stared, fascinated, as the first tear appeared.
"Try it one more time." The safety made a small clicking sound as Ryan pulled it back. He smiled coldly. "With feeling."
Volchok got two syllables in. "I'm so-"
Ryan fired.
Twice.
Walked away.
When he stepped out of the building, Volchok was sobbing loudly, staring at the two holes in the floor.
Ryan walked down the street, heart pounding. He took the remaining bullets out of the gun, cleaned it with his shirt, threw it in a trash can.
Kept walking.
Fuck, but Volchok had been right.
Ryan didn't feel any better.
Part Five
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Half an hour after the cab had dropped him off down the road, he was still trying to gather the courage to ring the bell. Five 500-words drabbles, because I'm addicted to that format.
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.
Huge thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this. I couldn't avoid some last minute tinkering--all remaining mistakes are mine.
Part Four - Before
Volchok was alone and wasted, snoring on a couch in a room that ranked of alcohol, smoke, and other things Ryan didn't want to think about.
The mere sight of him, sleeping away the day like so many other losers Ryan had met earlier in his life, infuriated him.
He grabbed Volchok's foot and dragged him off the couch, not caring that his fall was accompanied by a loud thump when he landed on the ground.
Then he took a few steps back, crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Volchok to stop spluttering and realize he was there.
*
Predictably, Volchok started out by insulting him.
"Think you're tough?"
Smirking.
"Playing the big guy, trying to look like a fucking bad boy?"
Provoking him.
"What are you gonna do?"
Assigning blame.
"She died because of you."
Echoing words that haunted Ryan in the darkest hours of the night.
"You're the one who wouldn't pull over."
Reminding him that they were both at fault.
"You're the one who kept driving."
Both guilty.
"You're the one who killed her."
Smiling like nothing could touch him.
"What are you gonna do, huh?"
Volchok's smile faded when Ryan pointed the loaded gun at him, hand steady.
"Look, man." Volchok swallowed thickly. "Let's not…"
He looked around nervously, as if help was going to materialize out of nowhere.
Ryan didn't say a word-hadn't said a word since entering the building.
"I'm sorry," Volchok tried again.
Ryan didn't react. He had thought that confronting Volchok would help him find closure.
He was disappointed but not really surprised to realize that it probably wouldn't work.
He didn't have anything to say, and even of he did… Would Volchok care? Would he see that he had destroyed Marissa's life in the name of a stupid pissing contest?
Volchok's voice was starting to shake. "Man, I-"
She was pulling her life together, Ryan wanted to scream.
She was finally moving on.
It was between you and me, and you had to drag her in the middle of it and look at what you've done!
Volchok was getting paler by the minute. "It won't make you feel better."
Ryan suspected that for once in his life, Volchok was right. "It might," he said anyway.
Volchok shook his head frantically. "No. No, look, I'm sorry. I really am, okay?" His eyes were growing brighter, and Ryan stared, fascinated, as the first tear appeared.
"Try it one more time." The safety made a small clicking sound as Ryan pulled it back. He smiled coldly. "With feeling."
Volchok got two syllables in. "I'm so-"
Ryan fired.
Twice.
Walked away.
When he stepped out of the building, Volchok was sobbing loudly, staring at the two holes in the floor.
Ryan walked down the street, heart pounding. He took the remaining bullets out of the gun, cleaned it with his shirt, threw it in a trash can.
Kept walking.
Fuck, but Volchok had been right.
Ryan didn't feel any better.
Part Five