The O.C. Fic: Night Falls Fast
A one-shot for Maudgonne, picking up after The Outsider. Hope you like it.
Night Falls Fast
~~~
Disclaimer: The O.C. is property of Fox.
Author's Note: For Maudgonne, who knows all about not being able to switch off. This may not help with the sleeping, but it will at least give you something to take your mind off it.
~~~
Even as he slid his weary bones under the sheets and shut off his bedside light, Ryan just knew it was going to be one of those infuriating nights, where he was going to spend more time awake than asleep. Forty minutes later and he wasn't mistaken.
1:13:am: Wake up for the second time. In denial about needing the bathroom. Doze off.
2:21am: Bathroom. Back to bed. Eyes shut. No shut-eye.
2:59am: Still awake. Still bored. Bring on the sheep.
3:10am: 600 sheep, slightly dizzy, not asleep. Switch to supermodels hurdling naked.
3:12am: 102 supermodels later, now more awake than ever.
3:15am: Bathroom again.
3:25am: Back to bed. Less excited, not more tired.
This was ridiculous; he was exhausted and increasingly frustrated that sleep was evading him for no good reason. Sure, tonight had been kind of crazy and despite what he'd told Seth, scary. The out of control feeling he'd had when Donnie had pulled the gun had dredged up more buried memories than he'd care to admit or discuss. But things were different now; he hadn’t been the one without the power, or the focus of aggression, or the one who'd got hurt. The day had been long, the night longer, he was exhausted and all he wanted to do was get some rest, as something told him that tomorrow was going to be a busy day at the Crab Shack now that they were a pair of hands down. He rolled over and took another look at the blinking display of the clock by his bed.
3:30am: Time to give up.
Resigned to his fate, Ryan swung his feet out of bed and fumbled in the dark for the socks he'd dropped to the floor the night before. Turning them the right way out Ryan yanked them on his feet, wrapped his double bedspread around him and shuffled out of the poolhouse. With any luck NickatNite would be showing some classic Cheers, or there might be something decent on Turner Classic Movies. Failing that, he could take his frustration out on some unsuspecting vehicle on Seth's Playstation. Without Seth's running commentary.
Having entered the house as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing the sleeping lions within, Ryan crossed over to the kitchen cupboard where the breakfast cereals lived. As always when he opened the cupboard, he couldn’t help but feel that there should be a beautiful glow of warm golden light and a choir of angels joyfully proclaiming the magnificence within. There was lots of things that Ryan loved about living with the Cohens but when it came to the actual architecture of the main house, screw the high ceilings, the infinity pool, the distinct lack of cockroaches; without question, the kitchen and in particular this cupboard of sugary wonder was far and away the best room in the house. He grabbed three different boxes, smuggled them under the bedspread and headed towards the den.
As Ryan approached the den he heard the unmistakable chirp and crash of the Playstation and he realized with some disappointment and more than a little irritation that somebody, probably Seth had beaten him to it.
"Doesn't anybody sleep around here?" he muttered under his breath.
He stopped, trying to decide whether or not to give up and retreat to the poolhouse with his loot or accept the inevitable and join the late night play for a little one on one and a heart to heart.
So, admittedly, he was not asleep and not likely to be any different in the immediate future, but that did not mean he was in the mood for company. One of the nice things about Chino- and despite the general crappiness of his existence there, there had been many- was that although, like here, he was known as the quiet one, nobody really felt the need to try and coax him out of his shell, engage him in conversation every waking second. Hell, even his mother, a person not exactly celebrated for her subtlety, knew how to correctly distinguish the difference between I'm-quiet-but-fine-Ryan and I'm-quiet-and-intent-on-staying-that-way-thankyou-very-much-Ryan. The Cohens? Not so much.
On the other hand, Seth's torrential verbiage could be oddly soothing sometimes, as it had been earlier at the hospital. And besides, if he'd heard Seth or whoever it was in the den, then who ever it was or Seth had probably heard him. Wrapping his bedspread tightly around himself Ryan gave up and headed into the den. Seth sat cross-legged on the floor, his back against the sofa and similarly cocooned by a bedspread. He looked almost as tired as Ryan felt.
"Hey man," Ryan greeted him as he stumbled over to join him, "Want some company?"
"Hey," said Seth, looking away briefly away from the screen to greet his night-time companion, “You wanna play?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Ryan sat down on the sofa behind Seth, putting the cereal boxes down on the floor next to him. Eenie-meanie-minie-moe. Lucky Charms it was.
"Why are you?…" asked Seth his voice trailing off as he took out a police car on screen with a hail of bullets. Grand Theft Auto. Fantastic. Ryan sighed inwardly. Tonight of all nights, Seth couldn’t have gone for something cartoon-y?
"Couldn't sleep. You?"
"Same here. Too wired."
On screen, Seth's car paused in the pursuit of violence and slowed down to admire some very pursuable ladies of questionable occupation. For a moment, Ryan couldn’t help but wonder about a potential career in video game design, especially if it involved lots and lots of research. There were certainly worse ways to earn a living, although in order to stave off embarrassment he'd probably have to spend a lot of time behind his desk. Ryan pulled the bedspread the round himself a little closer. My god, what was he, thirteen?!
"So how goes it with Summer?" Ryan said hastily, deliberately changing the subject to Seth's favorite topic of discussion, "She seemed almost unembarrassed to be seen with you after Luke…"
"- Got shot?"
"Yeah."
"I think she's warming to my charms," Seth enthused, keeping his gaze on screen, "She was talking to me spontaneously and everything. So she was kind of drunk, but you can't have everything, right?"
"Right."
Ryan continued picking at his cereal. Despite the marshmallowy goodness, he still felt uneasy and restless, with a strong desire to punch something. When Kirsten and Sandy had picked him and Seth up from the hospital late last night, he couldn't help but notice how Kirsten had hung back slightly, how Sandy's tone was a little more cheerful and comforting than was strictly necessary. And the protracted silence in the car on the ride home had been almost as unwelcome as the headboard-banging he used to hear coming from his mother's bedroom back in Chino. It would have been easy to put it down to the late hour and the weirdness of the situation, but in the quietness of the car, Ryan could practically hear the cogs whirring from his guardians sitting up front.
Had they made a mistake? Was Ryan a mistake? Could they take it back? And should they?
And what bugged him most of all, was that he really didn’t blame them for thinking it. No more fights. That was it, that was all they'd asked for. Since then, he'd been involved in a punch up at Cotillion and had let Seth get caught up with a gun-toting sociopath. To say it had not been his smartest move ever, would be like calling Niccoli Machiavelli a bit of a scamp.
"I am so gone," he muttered under his breath.
"What's that?" Seth asked, his eyes still fixated on the screen.
"Nothing."
"Sounded like something."
"It's just… nah, forget it."
"Ryan, we discussed this. You can't expect us to be like the Kavalier and Clay of the Western Seaboard if you keep it locked up. Let it out, man."
"I have no idea who you're talking about."
"Kava- never mind. We'll get to that later. Right now we're talking about you, me and the golden rule."
"Which is…?" Ryan prompted.
"United we're unstoppable, divided people get shot."
"Right. Kinda the problem."
Crashing his car with an uncharacteristic lack of finesse, Seth waited for Ryan to continue. Ignoring the pointed silence, Ryan dumped the cereal box on the floor and lifted his feet up on the sofa and laid down, wishing he'd never got into this. It was too late in the day and too late for him for it to be worth going over old ground now.
"Dude?" Seth asked after a moment, "You still with me?"
Ryan sighed as he pulled his bedspread around him. He should have stayed with the supermodels, "Luke got shot tonight."
"I noticed."
"Because of me."
"Actually, I think it was because of Donnie, but go on."
"But I brought Donnie to the party."
"Actually, I brought Donnie to the party. This is fun, carry on."
"It's not fun Seth. Your parents are probably going to kick me out. And I wouldn't blame them."
"Come on, there's no way-"
"- In the last month I've stolen a car, helped burn down one of your Mom's houses, been at the scene of a shooting, not to mention pissing off just about every socialite in fifty miles. And I haven't even had my probation hearing yet. If I get probation at all, it'll be a miracle. May as well just measure me up for a jumpsuit right now and have done."
"Okay, just shut up right now," said Seth, throwing down his controller and snapping off the television with the remote, "My Mom may be a land tycoon, and my Dad might be a hard-ass lawyer, but they're on our side. And if there's one thing we Cohens excel at it's being morally superior and stubborn."
Ryan frowned, trying to follow the ever-decreasing circles of Seth's unique brand of logic. At least his eyelids were feeling heavier.
"This is a good thing, Ryan, trust me. My Dad is a sucker for an underdog, and you are the classic example."
"You think?" Ryan drawled sarcastically, tossing an extra cushion down to Seth.
"You were there man," Seth rambled on, completely missing Ryan's sardonic tone as he shoved the cushion under his head and settled down on the floor, "Your life, it's like a JoBeth Williams movie, only with better hair."
"Not that much better; you met my Mom, right?"
"A good point, but not as good as this one- my Dad kicks ass. The DA's office hates him almost as much as… I don't know, as much Julie Cooper hates you."
"Wow. That's a lot of hate."
"No kidding. Dad, he always wins, like always. Comes in gloating, eyebrows akimbo, runs through the details, it's kinda boring, really, but trust me, he's good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. If there's one thing we Cohens are good at it's verbal gymnastics, so I say, feel the force, bro. I say, why stop at one car; steal another, my Dad loves a challenge. You're staying."
"'Kay," Ryan mumbled through a yawn.
"Okay. Glad we got that straight."
Side by side in the darkness, the two boys settled in, each comforted by the company of the other. In recent years, Ryan had forgotten the upside of having a brother; Seth on the other hand, was just happy to have one at all.
"Man, I'm bushed," he yawned, "Gang life really takes it out of you."
"Guess so," Ryan replied, his half-smile lost in the darkness. He wasn't worried about not being able to sleep anymore, "Thanks man."
"You're welcome," Seth murmured, his voice becoming soft as he began to drift off, "Besides, if you're going to worry about anything, worry about my grandfather. The guy scares me and I never burnt down one of his houses."
Rolling on to his side, Ryan glanced down at Seth, grateful not for the first time ever for ability to cut through to the crunch of the matter without wanting to delve too deep. Before he met Seth, he'd never really considered talking over something that was bothering him as an option; now only a few weeks later, it was just something he did, even if he did have to time it between poetic odes to Summer. Ryan just didn’t get why more people didn’t appreciate what an amazing gift he had. His eyes closed and unaware of his audience, Seth scratched at his nuts.
Suppressing a laugh, Ryan rolled over to his back and closed his ever more tired eyes. Then again, there was work to be done.
~~~~
Night Falls Fast
~~~
Disclaimer: The O.C. is property of Fox.
Author's Note: For Maudgonne, who knows all about not being able to switch off. This may not help with the sleeping, but it will at least give you something to take your mind off it.
~~~
Even as he slid his weary bones under the sheets and shut off his bedside light, Ryan just knew it was going to be one of those infuriating nights, where he was going to spend more time awake than asleep. Forty minutes later and he wasn't mistaken.
1:13:am: Wake up for the second time. In denial about needing the bathroom. Doze off.
2:21am: Bathroom. Back to bed. Eyes shut. No shut-eye.
2:59am: Still awake. Still bored. Bring on the sheep.
3:10am: 600 sheep, slightly dizzy, not asleep. Switch to supermodels hurdling naked.
3:12am: 102 supermodels later, now more awake than ever.
3:15am: Bathroom again.
3:25am: Back to bed. Less excited, not more tired.
This was ridiculous; he was exhausted and increasingly frustrated that sleep was evading him for no good reason. Sure, tonight had been kind of crazy and despite what he'd told Seth, scary. The out of control feeling he'd had when Donnie had pulled the gun had dredged up more buried memories than he'd care to admit or discuss. But things were different now; he hadn’t been the one without the power, or the focus of aggression, or the one who'd got hurt. The day had been long, the night longer, he was exhausted and all he wanted to do was get some rest, as something told him that tomorrow was going to be a busy day at the Crab Shack now that they were a pair of hands down. He rolled over and took another look at the blinking display of the clock by his bed.
3:30am: Time to give up.
Resigned to his fate, Ryan swung his feet out of bed and fumbled in the dark for the socks he'd dropped to the floor the night before. Turning them the right way out Ryan yanked them on his feet, wrapped his double bedspread around him and shuffled out of the poolhouse. With any luck NickatNite would be showing some classic Cheers, or there might be something decent on Turner Classic Movies. Failing that, he could take his frustration out on some unsuspecting vehicle on Seth's Playstation. Without Seth's running commentary.
Having entered the house as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing the sleeping lions within, Ryan crossed over to the kitchen cupboard where the breakfast cereals lived. As always when he opened the cupboard, he couldn’t help but feel that there should be a beautiful glow of warm golden light and a choir of angels joyfully proclaiming the magnificence within. There was lots of things that Ryan loved about living with the Cohens but when it came to the actual architecture of the main house, screw the high ceilings, the infinity pool, the distinct lack of cockroaches; without question, the kitchen and in particular this cupboard of sugary wonder was far and away the best room in the house. He grabbed three different boxes, smuggled them under the bedspread and headed towards the den.
As Ryan approached the den he heard the unmistakable chirp and crash of the Playstation and he realized with some disappointment and more than a little irritation that somebody, probably Seth had beaten him to it.
"Doesn't anybody sleep around here?" he muttered under his breath.
He stopped, trying to decide whether or not to give up and retreat to the poolhouse with his loot or accept the inevitable and join the late night play for a little one on one and a heart to heart.
So, admittedly, he was not asleep and not likely to be any different in the immediate future, but that did not mean he was in the mood for company. One of the nice things about Chino- and despite the general crappiness of his existence there, there had been many- was that although, like here, he was known as the quiet one, nobody really felt the need to try and coax him out of his shell, engage him in conversation every waking second. Hell, even his mother, a person not exactly celebrated for her subtlety, knew how to correctly distinguish the difference between I'm-quiet-but-fine-Ryan and I'm-quiet-and-intent-on-staying-that-way-thankyou-very-much-Ryan. The Cohens? Not so much.
On the other hand, Seth's torrential verbiage could be oddly soothing sometimes, as it had been earlier at the hospital. And besides, if he'd heard Seth or whoever it was in the den, then who ever it was or Seth had probably heard him. Wrapping his bedspread tightly around himself Ryan gave up and headed into the den. Seth sat cross-legged on the floor, his back against the sofa and similarly cocooned by a bedspread. He looked almost as tired as Ryan felt.
"Hey man," Ryan greeted him as he stumbled over to join him, "Want some company?"
"Hey," said Seth, looking away briefly away from the screen to greet his night-time companion, “You wanna play?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Ryan sat down on the sofa behind Seth, putting the cereal boxes down on the floor next to him. Eenie-meanie-minie-moe. Lucky Charms it was.
"Why are you?…" asked Seth his voice trailing off as he took out a police car on screen with a hail of bullets. Grand Theft Auto. Fantastic. Ryan sighed inwardly. Tonight of all nights, Seth couldn’t have gone for something cartoon-y?
"Couldn't sleep. You?"
"Same here. Too wired."
On screen, Seth's car paused in the pursuit of violence and slowed down to admire some very pursuable ladies of questionable occupation. For a moment, Ryan couldn’t help but wonder about a potential career in video game design, especially if it involved lots and lots of research. There were certainly worse ways to earn a living, although in order to stave off embarrassment he'd probably have to spend a lot of time behind his desk. Ryan pulled the bedspread the round himself a little closer. My god, what was he, thirteen?!
"So how goes it with Summer?" Ryan said hastily, deliberately changing the subject to Seth's favorite topic of discussion, "She seemed almost unembarrassed to be seen with you after Luke…"
"- Got shot?"
"Yeah."
"I think she's warming to my charms," Seth enthused, keeping his gaze on screen, "She was talking to me spontaneously and everything. So she was kind of drunk, but you can't have everything, right?"
"Right."
Ryan continued picking at his cereal. Despite the marshmallowy goodness, he still felt uneasy and restless, with a strong desire to punch something. When Kirsten and Sandy had picked him and Seth up from the hospital late last night, he couldn't help but notice how Kirsten had hung back slightly, how Sandy's tone was a little more cheerful and comforting than was strictly necessary. And the protracted silence in the car on the ride home had been almost as unwelcome as the headboard-banging he used to hear coming from his mother's bedroom back in Chino. It would have been easy to put it down to the late hour and the weirdness of the situation, but in the quietness of the car, Ryan could practically hear the cogs whirring from his guardians sitting up front.
Had they made a mistake? Was Ryan a mistake? Could they take it back? And should they?
And what bugged him most of all, was that he really didn’t blame them for thinking it. No more fights. That was it, that was all they'd asked for. Since then, he'd been involved in a punch up at Cotillion and had let Seth get caught up with a gun-toting sociopath. To say it had not been his smartest move ever, would be like calling Niccoli Machiavelli a bit of a scamp.
"I am so gone," he muttered under his breath.
"What's that?" Seth asked, his eyes still fixated on the screen.
"Nothing."
"Sounded like something."
"It's just… nah, forget it."
"Ryan, we discussed this. You can't expect us to be like the Kavalier and Clay of the Western Seaboard if you keep it locked up. Let it out, man."
"I have no idea who you're talking about."
"Kava- never mind. We'll get to that later. Right now we're talking about you, me and the golden rule."
"Which is…?" Ryan prompted.
"United we're unstoppable, divided people get shot."
"Right. Kinda the problem."
Crashing his car with an uncharacteristic lack of finesse, Seth waited for Ryan to continue. Ignoring the pointed silence, Ryan dumped the cereal box on the floor and lifted his feet up on the sofa and laid down, wishing he'd never got into this. It was too late in the day and too late for him for it to be worth going over old ground now.
"Dude?" Seth asked after a moment, "You still with me?"
Ryan sighed as he pulled his bedspread around him. He should have stayed with the supermodels, "Luke got shot tonight."
"I noticed."
"Because of me."
"Actually, I think it was because of Donnie, but go on."
"But I brought Donnie to the party."
"Actually, I brought Donnie to the party. This is fun, carry on."
"It's not fun Seth. Your parents are probably going to kick me out. And I wouldn't blame them."
"Come on, there's no way-"
"- In the last month I've stolen a car, helped burn down one of your Mom's houses, been at the scene of a shooting, not to mention pissing off just about every socialite in fifty miles. And I haven't even had my probation hearing yet. If I get probation at all, it'll be a miracle. May as well just measure me up for a jumpsuit right now and have done."
"Okay, just shut up right now," said Seth, throwing down his controller and snapping off the television with the remote, "My Mom may be a land tycoon, and my Dad might be a hard-ass lawyer, but they're on our side. And if there's one thing we Cohens excel at it's being morally superior and stubborn."
Ryan frowned, trying to follow the ever-decreasing circles of Seth's unique brand of logic. At least his eyelids were feeling heavier.
"This is a good thing, Ryan, trust me. My Dad is a sucker for an underdog, and you are the classic example."
"You think?" Ryan drawled sarcastically, tossing an extra cushion down to Seth.
"You were there man," Seth rambled on, completely missing Ryan's sardonic tone as he shoved the cushion under his head and settled down on the floor, "Your life, it's like a JoBeth Williams movie, only with better hair."
"Not that much better; you met my Mom, right?"
"A good point, but not as good as this one- my Dad kicks ass. The DA's office hates him almost as much as… I don't know, as much Julie Cooper hates you."
"Wow. That's a lot of hate."
"No kidding. Dad, he always wins, like always. Comes in gloating, eyebrows akimbo, runs through the details, it's kinda boring, really, but trust me, he's good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. If there's one thing we Cohens are good at it's verbal gymnastics, so I say, feel the force, bro. I say, why stop at one car; steal another, my Dad loves a challenge. You're staying."
"'Kay," Ryan mumbled through a yawn.
"Okay. Glad we got that straight."
Side by side in the darkness, the two boys settled in, each comforted by the company of the other. In recent years, Ryan had forgotten the upside of having a brother; Seth on the other hand, was just happy to have one at all.
"Man, I'm bushed," he yawned, "Gang life really takes it out of you."
"Guess so," Ryan replied, his half-smile lost in the darkness. He wasn't worried about not being able to sleep anymore, "Thanks man."
"You're welcome," Seth murmured, his voice becoming soft as he began to drift off, "Besides, if you're going to worry about anything, worry about my grandfather. The guy scares me and I never burnt down one of his houses."
Rolling on to his side, Ryan glanced down at Seth, grateful not for the first time ever for ability to cut through to the crunch of the matter without wanting to delve too deep. Before he met Seth, he'd never really considered talking over something that was bothering him as an option; now only a few weeks later, it was just something he did, even if he did have to time it between poetic odes to Summer. Ryan just didn’t get why more people didn’t appreciate what an amazing gift he had. His eyes closed and unaware of his audience, Seth scratched at his nuts.
Suppressing a laugh, Ryan rolled over to his back and closed his ever more tired eyes. Then again, there was work to be done.
~~~~