OC Fic : What Doesn't Kill Us (2/3)
Title : What doesn't kill us…
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13, I guess.
Summary : What Trey did is the one thing Ryan will never be able to forgive, the one thing he doesn't want to forgive.
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 the beta job.
Warning : nothing graphic, but disturbing subject anyway.
Part Two
School starts again, which at least allows Ryan to think about something other than Trey, Marissa, and the horrible summer they went through.
Seth and Summer, Marissa and Ryan, spend most of their time together outside of classes. At the beginning of the term, there are some whispers whenever they sit down for lunch, and some insistent stares when they pile up in Summer's car at the end of the day, but when none of them reacts to the scrutiny, the rest of the Harbor students find something else to talk about.
Seth and Summer go out sometimes, at Summer's urging. Marissa and Ryan join them a few times, but mostly, they prefer going to a movie or even staying in the pool house.
Ryan knows that the Cohens are concerned about their lack of social life, but he can't bring himself to care about that, can't find it in him to act like he did last year, carefree and happy, as if everything was fine.
The façade has cracked and collapsed and he doesn't want to rebuild it.
Not when the results were so disastrous.
Marissa doesn't seem to regret her former status, and Ryan is more than happy to avoid the crowd.
***
Three months go by, and Ryan enjoys the quiet during the days.
God knows his nights are less than peaceful.
Ryan has nightmares, almost every night.
He didn't see what happened on the beach between Marissa and Trey, but his mind is more than able to fill in the blanks, and more than willing to remind him of other people, in other places, and of himself, young and scared and bewildered by what was happening, and unable to bring himself to talk about it.
Marissa has nightmares.
Ryan knows, because he overheard Julie talking with Kirsten, and because Marissa, sometimes, calls him when she wakes up in the middle of the night, and listens to his voice as he soothes her back to sleep.
They barely even kiss anymore, but they snuggle a lot.
That's safe.
That's comforting.
That doesn't remind either of them of less-safe encounters.
They sleep together sometimes-just sleep, in Ryan's bed, and with all their clothes on. Marissa asks him, just once, if he doesn't mind being close to her, and not doing anything, and he jokes and says that he may be seventeen, and thus "always ready," he's also a gentleman and he does have some self-control.
She smiles, seemingly reassured, and Ryan pats himself on the back for his answer, but he knows very well that it would have been more honest to reply that he had stuff to deal with too, and that sex was about as far from his mind as it was ever likely to get, considering that he's seventeen.
Of course, an honest answer would have made Marissa wonder, and Ryan can't allow that.
Not now.
He's not ready yet.
***
After Thanksgiving, two things come shattering the relative peacefulness of his life.
The first thing is a nightmare Marissa has.
She and Ryan fell asleep in front of the TV, in the Cohens' den, and Ryan wakes up to screams.
Marissa is struggling in his arms, but he doesn't dare to let her go, afraid she'll hurt herself, and he doesn't dare to hang on to her too tightly either, afraid she'll mistake him for Trey, so he doesn't do anything until Kirsten rushes into the room, takes Marissa in her arms and starts to comfort her.
Ryan watches on as Marissa clings to Kirsten, wishing Dawn had…
But Dawn didn't, and that's done, in the past, and there's no need to think about that now.
No need to feel hurt again because his own mother didn't care.
Ryan spots Sandy and Seth, both hovering near the entrance of the room.
Sandy smiles and raises a questioning eyebrow to Ryan, who tries to smile back but can't make his lips move the right way.
Seth looks at Marissa, then at Ryan, looking puzzled, looking like he's about to say something but doesn't know what.
Once Marissa starts calming down, Sandy mumbles something about calling Julie, and Seth leaves, and Ryan keeps watching Kirsten and Marissa, wishing he'd had someone, back then.
He could have it now, he knows.
When he first arrived here, every time he considered bringing it up, the thought sounded laughable, and Ryan felt fine, then. He had other stuff to deal with, he almost always does, and this particular issue had taken a backseat. Besides, he didn't know the Cohens well enough then. Sure, they seemed nice, but Ryan had met people who seemed nice before.
But that was when he first arrived here.
Two years have gone by; he trusts the Cohens now, and when he thinks about telling them, it doesn't feel like the stupidest idea in the world anymore.
And it's not like there haven't been opportunities in the past to tell them, "This happened to me, and most of the time it's not that bad to deal with, but when it's bad, it's fucking unmanageable, and I don't know what to do, and can you help me?"
And the Cohens probably suspect anyway, or at least, Sandy must, a little, and every time Ryan allows his anger to get the better of him, he wants to tell them that he suspects it all comes mostly from what happened.
He couldn't hit the guy who did that, but he can hit Oliver and Trey and Luke when they're being assholes.
And it doesn’t make anything better.
He just has to talk to them, and when he'll be done, Kirsten will hug him, like she's hugging Marissa now, and she won't let go for a long time, and Sandy will pat his back, and perhaps it'll help, in the long run, to have them knowing.
One day, he tells himself.
Not today.
He's not ready yet, the words would catch in his throat, and he couldn't face them.
But one day, he'll be ready for that.
***
The second thing happens just before Chrismukkah.
Dawn calls Ryan.
It's grey outside, and even slightly cold-as cold as it gets in Southern California-and Ryan is curled up in his bed, reading for his English Lit. assignment, feeling as relaxed, as content, as he has since last May.
Then, he picks up the phone, and three seconds later, he's chilled to the bone and he wants to throw up. As Dawn yells at him, her voice makes him wince. He doesn't even understand what she's talking about, the only words that stick with him are, "Just like your fucking brother," and they're still ringing in his mind long after she has hung up, and Ryan just sits there, listening to the dial tone, until the nausea gets too much and he rushes to the bathroom.
Two years without hearing a word from Dawn, two years wondering if she was all right, and all Ryan wants to do, now that he has heard from her, is punch a wall. Or a window. Or someone.
He settles for the wall in the bathroom, and he hurts his hand-not badly but enough so that the Cohens will notice.
Ryan explains it away-unconvincingly, and he can see Sandy and Kirsten holding back their questions, and that's yet another thing making him angry, that they're wary of pushing him, wary of his reactions, wary he'll balk on them if they go too far.
He almost wishes they'd push, but they don't.
***
Ryan has a nightmare that night. It's different than the ones he had before, and it's even worse, and so much more disturbing.
In his nightmare, Ryan sees himself with Marissa-pinning her to the bed, grabbing her wrists roughly as she twists under him and begs him to stop.
He sees himself, ignoring her pleas, pushing into her, hurting her as she cries, feeling angry, for some reason-he spends so much time feeling angry, and not always for any discernable reason.
He sees himself, looking down at her, horrified, wondering if this is what Trey felt like when he realized what he'd tried to do.
He hears himself, apologizing, again and again, as Marissa cries and curls up on the bed, away from him.
Ryan sits up with a strangled "No!" breathing fast, and closes his eyes as light assaults them.
He hears Kirsten's voice, close to his ear, whispering, "It's okay."
Her reassurances make him laugh, because nothing is okay, how could it be, and in his mind, he can still see Marissa, her bruised arms, her pleading eyes.
Can still remember the anger he felt.
He doesn't know how long it takes him to come back to reality, but he knows it's a long time.
Eventually, Ryan realizes that he's chanting, "no, no, no," under his breath and Kirsten is rocking him softly, whispering meaningless words of comfort.
"It's okay," he hears her say again. "It's okay, sweetie, I promise."
Ryan wants to tell her that she doesn't know that, doesn't even know what's wrong with him, and that she shouldn't make promises she won't be able to keep.
"I'm fine. Sorry," he says, pushing away from her.
Kirsten sighs, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. "If that's being fine, I don't want to know what it's like when you're not."
"Sorry," he repeats.
Kirsten frowns at him. "Ryan…"
He cuts her off before she can add anything. "Can you… Please, not tonight."
She keeps frowning, studying him. She finally nods reluctantly. "Fine. But…"
"I'll be fine," Ryan says.
That's not exactly what he wants to tell her-he wants to tell her that he'll confide in her sooner or later, and probably sooner, and that he appreciates her concern, as well as everything else she has done for him.
But if he tells her that, she'll want to know why he can't tell her what's bothering him now, and Ryan will certainly lose it in an even bigger way, and she'll be even more worried, and everything will just be more complicated than it already is.
Later, he thinks.
He'll be ready later.
***
For the next two days, all Ryan can think of is Dawn's words.
Just like your brother.
There's truth in that statement.
Trey tends to resort violence. Trey has a short fuse. Trey doesn't trust people.
Just like Ryan.
And Ryan keeps wondering if it will ever happen to him-if, one day, he'll be pushed far enough, and he'll just give up and become what he always swore he wouldn't be.
Was Trey surprised when he realized what he had tried to do?
Was Trey horrified?
Or was he just worried about Ryan's reaction, worried that Ryan would, well, do exactly what Ryan did?
Did Trey think about Ryan, and himself, and that man? Or did he think that there was no link between these events?
Did he even remember what happened? Or had he forgotten about it?
God knows Ryan himself never thinks much about it-he actually spent years knowing it had happened, but not feeling the weight of it. He had thought, he had hoped, that it meant that he was over it.
Then, Seth's stuttered confession had brought all these memories back to the surface, and Ryan had felt it like a punch to the face.
He doesn't remember exactly what happened, in those few months that jackass spent with the Atwoods. His memories are blurry, they tend to meld into one another, and he just has flashes-flashes that are so much more than enough.
Ryan still can't understand how Trey could do that.
Still can't understand how Trey could even consider forcing another human being to live with that.
Not after what happened.
Part Three
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13, I guess.
Summary : What Trey did is the one thing Ryan will never be able to forgive, the one thing he doesn't want to forgive.
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 the beta job.
Warning : nothing graphic, but disturbing subject anyway.
Part Two
School starts again, which at least allows Ryan to think about something other than Trey, Marissa, and the horrible summer they went through.
Seth and Summer, Marissa and Ryan, spend most of their time together outside of classes. At the beginning of the term, there are some whispers whenever they sit down for lunch, and some insistent stares when they pile up in Summer's car at the end of the day, but when none of them reacts to the scrutiny, the rest of the Harbor students find something else to talk about.
Seth and Summer go out sometimes, at Summer's urging. Marissa and Ryan join them a few times, but mostly, they prefer going to a movie or even staying in the pool house.
Ryan knows that the Cohens are concerned about their lack of social life, but he can't bring himself to care about that, can't find it in him to act like he did last year, carefree and happy, as if everything was fine.
The façade has cracked and collapsed and he doesn't want to rebuild it.
Not when the results were so disastrous.
Marissa doesn't seem to regret her former status, and Ryan is more than happy to avoid the crowd.
***
Three months go by, and Ryan enjoys the quiet during the days.
God knows his nights are less than peaceful.
Ryan has nightmares, almost every night.
He didn't see what happened on the beach between Marissa and Trey, but his mind is more than able to fill in the blanks, and more than willing to remind him of other people, in other places, and of himself, young and scared and bewildered by what was happening, and unable to bring himself to talk about it.
Marissa has nightmares.
Ryan knows, because he overheard Julie talking with Kirsten, and because Marissa, sometimes, calls him when she wakes up in the middle of the night, and listens to his voice as he soothes her back to sleep.
They barely even kiss anymore, but they snuggle a lot.
That's safe.
That's comforting.
That doesn't remind either of them of less-safe encounters.
They sleep together sometimes-just sleep, in Ryan's bed, and with all their clothes on. Marissa asks him, just once, if he doesn't mind being close to her, and not doing anything, and he jokes and says that he may be seventeen, and thus "always ready," he's also a gentleman and he does have some self-control.
She smiles, seemingly reassured, and Ryan pats himself on the back for his answer, but he knows very well that it would have been more honest to reply that he had stuff to deal with too, and that sex was about as far from his mind as it was ever likely to get, considering that he's seventeen.
Of course, an honest answer would have made Marissa wonder, and Ryan can't allow that.
Not now.
He's not ready yet.
***
After Thanksgiving, two things come shattering the relative peacefulness of his life.
The first thing is a nightmare Marissa has.
She and Ryan fell asleep in front of the TV, in the Cohens' den, and Ryan wakes up to screams.
Marissa is struggling in his arms, but he doesn't dare to let her go, afraid she'll hurt herself, and he doesn't dare to hang on to her too tightly either, afraid she'll mistake him for Trey, so he doesn't do anything until Kirsten rushes into the room, takes Marissa in her arms and starts to comfort her.
Ryan watches on as Marissa clings to Kirsten, wishing Dawn had…
But Dawn didn't, and that's done, in the past, and there's no need to think about that now.
No need to feel hurt again because his own mother didn't care.
Ryan spots Sandy and Seth, both hovering near the entrance of the room.
Sandy smiles and raises a questioning eyebrow to Ryan, who tries to smile back but can't make his lips move the right way.
Seth looks at Marissa, then at Ryan, looking puzzled, looking like he's about to say something but doesn't know what.
Once Marissa starts calming down, Sandy mumbles something about calling Julie, and Seth leaves, and Ryan keeps watching Kirsten and Marissa, wishing he'd had someone, back then.
He could have it now, he knows.
When he first arrived here, every time he considered bringing it up, the thought sounded laughable, and Ryan felt fine, then. He had other stuff to deal with, he almost always does, and this particular issue had taken a backseat. Besides, he didn't know the Cohens well enough then. Sure, they seemed nice, but Ryan had met people who seemed nice before.
But that was when he first arrived here.
Two years have gone by; he trusts the Cohens now, and when he thinks about telling them, it doesn't feel like the stupidest idea in the world anymore.
And it's not like there haven't been opportunities in the past to tell them, "This happened to me, and most of the time it's not that bad to deal with, but when it's bad, it's fucking unmanageable, and I don't know what to do, and can you help me?"
And the Cohens probably suspect anyway, or at least, Sandy must, a little, and every time Ryan allows his anger to get the better of him, he wants to tell them that he suspects it all comes mostly from what happened.
He couldn't hit the guy who did that, but he can hit Oliver and Trey and Luke when they're being assholes.
And it doesn’t make anything better.
He just has to talk to them, and when he'll be done, Kirsten will hug him, like she's hugging Marissa now, and she won't let go for a long time, and Sandy will pat his back, and perhaps it'll help, in the long run, to have them knowing.
One day, he tells himself.
Not today.
He's not ready yet, the words would catch in his throat, and he couldn't face them.
But one day, he'll be ready for that.
***
The second thing happens just before Chrismukkah.
Dawn calls Ryan.
It's grey outside, and even slightly cold-as cold as it gets in Southern California-and Ryan is curled up in his bed, reading for his English Lit. assignment, feeling as relaxed, as content, as he has since last May.
Then, he picks up the phone, and three seconds later, he's chilled to the bone and he wants to throw up. As Dawn yells at him, her voice makes him wince. He doesn't even understand what she's talking about, the only words that stick with him are, "Just like your fucking brother," and they're still ringing in his mind long after she has hung up, and Ryan just sits there, listening to the dial tone, until the nausea gets too much and he rushes to the bathroom.
Two years without hearing a word from Dawn, two years wondering if she was all right, and all Ryan wants to do, now that he has heard from her, is punch a wall. Or a window. Or someone.
He settles for the wall in the bathroom, and he hurts his hand-not badly but enough so that the Cohens will notice.
Ryan explains it away-unconvincingly, and he can see Sandy and Kirsten holding back their questions, and that's yet another thing making him angry, that they're wary of pushing him, wary of his reactions, wary he'll balk on them if they go too far.
He almost wishes they'd push, but they don't.
***
Ryan has a nightmare that night. It's different than the ones he had before, and it's even worse, and so much more disturbing.
In his nightmare, Ryan sees himself with Marissa-pinning her to the bed, grabbing her wrists roughly as she twists under him and begs him to stop.
He sees himself, ignoring her pleas, pushing into her, hurting her as she cries, feeling angry, for some reason-he spends so much time feeling angry, and not always for any discernable reason.
He sees himself, looking down at her, horrified, wondering if this is what Trey felt like when he realized what he'd tried to do.
He hears himself, apologizing, again and again, as Marissa cries and curls up on the bed, away from him.
Ryan sits up with a strangled "No!" breathing fast, and closes his eyes as light assaults them.
He hears Kirsten's voice, close to his ear, whispering, "It's okay."
Her reassurances make him laugh, because nothing is okay, how could it be, and in his mind, he can still see Marissa, her bruised arms, her pleading eyes.
Can still remember the anger he felt.
He doesn't know how long it takes him to come back to reality, but he knows it's a long time.
Eventually, Ryan realizes that he's chanting, "no, no, no," under his breath and Kirsten is rocking him softly, whispering meaningless words of comfort.
"It's okay," he hears her say again. "It's okay, sweetie, I promise."
Ryan wants to tell her that she doesn't know that, doesn't even know what's wrong with him, and that she shouldn't make promises she won't be able to keep.
"I'm fine. Sorry," he says, pushing away from her.
Kirsten sighs, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. "If that's being fine, I don't want to know what it's like when you're not."
"Sorry," he repeats.
Kirsten frowns at him. "Ryan…"
He cuts her off before she can add anything. "Can you… Please, not tonight."
She keeps frowning, studying him. She finally nods reluctantly. "Fine. But…"
"I'll be fine," Ryan says.
That's not exactly what he wants to tell her-he wants to tell her that he'll confide in her sooner or later, and probably sooner, and that he appreciates her concern, as well as everything else she has done for him.
But if he tells her that, she'll want to know why he can't tell her what's bothering him now, and Ryan will certainly lose it in an even bigger way, and she'll be even more worried, and everything will just be more complicated than it already is.
Later, he thinks.
He'll be ready later.
***
For the next two days, all Ryan can think of is Dawn's words.
Just like your brother.
There's truth in that statement.
Trey tends to resort violence. Trey has a short fuse. Trey doesn't trust people.
Just like Ryan.
And Ryan keeps wondering if it will ever happen to him-if, one day, he'll be pushed far enough, and he'll just give up and become what he always swore he wouldn't be.
Was Trey surprised when he realized what he had tried to do?
Was Trey horrified?
Or was he just worried about Ryan's reaction, worried that Ryan would, well, do exactly what Ryan did?
Did Trey think about Ryan, and himself, and that man? Or did he think that there was no link between these events?
Did he even remember what happened? Or had he forgotten about it?
God knows Ryan himself never thinks much about it-he actually spent years knowing it had happened, but not feeling the weight of it. He had thought, he had hoped, that it meant that he was over it.
Then, Seth's stuttered confession had brought all these memories back to the surface, and Ryan had felt it like a punch to the face.
He doesn't remember exactly what happened, in those few months that jackass spent with the Atwoods. His memories are blurry, they tend to meld into one another, and he just has flashes-flashes that are so much more than enough.
Ryan still can't understand how Trey could do that.
Still can't understand how Trey could even consider forcing another human being to live with that.
Not after what happened.
Part Three