The O.C. Fic: Move On: (6/6)
Title: Move On
Fandom: The O.C.
Rating / Genre: PG-13+ / Gen / Hiatus (1-2)
Words: 3429
Spoilers: Season One
Disclaimer: The O.C. is property of Fox.
Schmoopy Dedication: With much gratitude to my beta, translator and friend demonic_cookie.
First Note: Two updates in a month. I'm improving. And I wrote this late, it's unbeta-ed and we all know how I like to mistype. I hope it's okay.
Second Note: This story is, at least for the time being, dormant. Who knows, maybe one day it will be active again. Until that day, it's not completed, but it is concluded.
Summary: Ryan's in Chino, Seth's gone travelling and Kirsten's had just about enough from both of them.
~~~
" And just because you think you're never going home,
Don't mean that you'll never arrive."
Move On, Jet
~~~
Kirsten sat on the hard wooden bench, her eyes closed, lost in her thoughts as she absent-mindedly traced her fingers around the edge of one of the several evenly spaced holes intended to prevent those who found themselves on the wrong side of the law from bolting. This bench, this waiting area, the two interview rooms next door, the cells down the corridor; they were all so alien to her. Despite her own youthful misadventures, it had never really crossed her mind before Ryan that she would ever find herself or her loved ones on the wrong side of the law. It just honestly never occurred to her; they weren't that kind of family. Whatever that was supposed to mean. Now her dad was being investigated by the D.A.'s office, Ryan had been arrested again and in all honesty, she had absolutely no clue what Seth had been up to lately but it wouldn’t be the greatest surprise in the world if some of it was less than one hundred percent legal.
It was different though, now. Ryan had changed them all, without even realizing. Somehow, without even noticing she had become one of those other kind of families; the ones that took life, luck and prosperity for granted. Even despite Seth's unhappiness, and in turn Sandy's and her own, there were just certain baselines that Kirsten had always assumed would be there. Having Ryan had woken her up from that. Her refreshed outlook on her Newport living was just one of a million other reasons that Ryan meant the world to her. The gaping ache of hurt in her heart when he'd left them, first at the beginning of the summer and again last night, just served to reiterate it.
"Mrs. Cohen?"
Kirsten opened her eyes and looked across in the direction of the familiar voice. Sitting down at the other end of the bench was Theresa, her sad eyes circled darkly with recently shed tears.
"Theresa. Are you okay?"
"Me? I'm fine," said Theresa in surprise at the warm reception from Kirsten.
"Really?"
"Well, not really," Theresa said, drawing Kirsten's gaze down to her wrist, cuffed to the bench, "But I don't think I'm in a position to ask for sympathy, right?"
Awkwardly, Kirsten smiled a little, unsure of what to say.
"That's what I thought." Her voice cracking, Theresa started to cry, "I am so sorry."
Kirsten knew she was supposed to be angry with Theresa, for having embroiled Ryan in this mess. But truthfully, she just didn’t have it in her. With her head hung forward, her beautifully dark long hair framing her face, Theresa looked every bit as sad, every bit as lonely and every bit as lost as Ryan had sounded when they'd talked on the phone earlier that morning. Without thinking, Kirsten moved towards her and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders, letting her cry into her own.
Letting her cry her way out, Kirsten tucked a stray strand of Theresa's hair behind her ear and kissed her gently on the head. "It's going to be okay, you know. Sandy's sorted out worse than this."
"He was never supposed to find out, you know?" Theresa said finally, sitting up a little and wiping at her eyes. "Not that it makes it better. Ryan, he's done so much for me, even before this."
Theresa looked at Kirsten, trying to find the right way to explain the unexplainable.
"You ever have one of those friends who are just so much part of your life, you can't imagine ever being without them? They just are, like in every part of you. When you remember growing up, or being at school, they're in every memory, even the ones they shouldn't be and you don't even know why?"
Kirsten nodded.
"It's used to be like that for us. I thought if I could get enough money, we could go back to that. He'd wouldn’t have to work so hard, the only thing we'd have to worry about would be raising our child the right way."
"I understand," Kirsten replied, beginning really to comprehend the full emotional scope of Ryan's quandary for the first time. "I'm not saying I agree with your methods, but I get it."
"Really?" Theresa replied with more than a hint of uncertainty.
"It's different for us," said Kirsten, her gaze resting on Theresa's gentle bump, "When I was pregnant with Seth, I knew that everything I'd felt before then was just a shadow of what I was feeling now. And I was lucky, I had Sandy, we were both more or less out of college, and even though neither of us were exactly getting along with our families, we had enough support between us to know that the money side of things would be okay."
Kirsten stopped, trying to make sure Theresa heard her words in the way they were intended.
"My point is, I know how truly terrifying it is to wake up each morning and worry about if I'm going to be good enough, if I'm going to be strong enough and even if I'm not, if he's going to stay with me."
Theresa looked at Kirsten her eyes wide in surprise that somebody like that understood what it was like to be somebody like her.
Kirsten shrugged off Theresa's surprise and looked back at her levelly, "I know what it's like to say, "I would do anything for my child," and mean it."
Theresa looked down again, and subconsciously touched her hand lightly to her small rounding of her belly.
"Even after everything that's happened, I can't believe I ever thought about not having this baby."
To unsure of her own thoughts and feelings to respond, Kirsten remained silent, her fingers straying once again to one of the holes in the bench.
Watching Kirsten trace patterns next to her, Theresa struggled to process all that had happened in the last few days. Pulling her thoughts together at last, she frowned and looked back up at Kirsten abruptly.
"Why are you being so nice to me? All I've ever done is cause trouble for you and your family."
"Believe me, we can manage that one all by ourselves," Kirsten said with a sigh as her thoughts drifted momentarily to Seth. "We both know I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hurt and angry when Ryan chose you over us this summer. And no matter what your reasons, getting involved in whatever exactly it is you've got yourself into was stupid and selfish, especially given how hard Ryan has worked to put that behind him."
Taking a moment to dull her growing frustration, Kirsten looked at Theresa and saw her determination not to start crying again. She sighed.
"But none of that matters now. For one thing, because if I were in your place, I can't honestly say I wouldn't have considered doing the same. And because for another, whatever else has happened or might happen, I know you love Ryan just as much as we do."
Not seeing the point of disputing the indisputable, Theresa laid herself open, her voice catching. "Yeah. He kind of has that effect on people."
Ignoring the metal chain tethering Theresa to a life she didn't deserve, Kirsten reached out and took the girl's hand in her own. "And your mom's on her way?"
"Yeah. She's coming back from her sister's. It's a drive though, so I don't know when she'll get here."
"We'll wait with you."
"You don't have to do that-"
"- It's okay," Kirsten said with kind firmness. "We've got time."
"Thank you."
Their fund of words almost completely emptied, Kirsten and Theresa sat next to one another, content to let silence take over. Down the corridor, one of the doors opened and a police officer sternly directed a disgruntled Jay towards the heavyset door that led to the cells. Feeling Theresa bristle beside her, Kirsten gave Theresa's hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
"He was trying to blame it all on Ryan, you know. Jay. " Theresa said after a moment, her eyes following Jay's departing figure. "Said Ryan's brother had hooked him up with his connections from inside."
Kirsten frowned, "I didn't know Trey was- I mean, I thought it was just cars-"
"- It is," said Theresa, rescuing Kirsten from her awkwardness. "Jay was just trying to cause trouble. Hijo de puta," she cursed before remembering her company, "Sorry."
"It's okay," Kirsten replied, smiling at the brief flash of the gutsy Theresa she remembered from the spring. "Seems like an accurate description to me."
They smiled at each other. Seeing the police officer who had been escorting Jay return from the cells and head in their direction, Theresa let go of Kirsten's hand. "Looks like my ride's here."
"Wait for Sandy before you tell them anything else."
"It's okay. I know what I've got to say."
"Theresa-"
"- I promise not to sign anything, alright?" Theresa interrupted determinedly as the police officer released her from the bench before taking her hands behind her back once more. "I have to do this."
Seeing that Theresa's mind was made up, Kirsten nodded. "Okay."
"Will you tell him I'm sorry?"
"I'll tell him."
"Thank you."
Allowing the police officer to lead her away again, Theresa looked back at Kirsten, her calm veneer only barely remaining in tact.
"Please don't wait for me. It'll just make things harder for him."
Uncertain of what to say Kirsten nodded again in agreement. Left alone once more, Kirsten sighed and closed her eyes. Despite the circumstances and the undeniable degree of animosity she felt towards Theresa right now, she couldn't bring herself to hate her. Everything they had spoken about was true; there was nothing she wouldn't do for Seth, and now Ryan too. It was just the way of things. Now all she had to do was find a way to get them both home, to stay.
Interrupted from her private machinations by the sound of a heavy door pulling back, Kirsten opened her eyes. Across the hall from the interview room that Jay had vacated, Sandy emerged with Ryan, his hand resting reassuringly on Ryan's shoulder, the teenager's own hands remaining conspicuously behind his back as an officer flanked him in the direction of Kirsten's resting place.
Offering a smile of greeting as she stood to meet them, Kirsten made a deliberate effort to draw Ryan's gaze away from the floor.
"Hey there."
"Hey honey," said Sandy, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek as the officer accompanying Ryan cuffed him to the bench.
Ignoring Ryan's unwillingness to make eye contact with her, Kirsten sat down next to him and turned his head gently towards her. "You okay?"
Feeling the ever-present lump of emotion rise in his chest again, Ryan frowned as he murmured quietly in response, "Not really."
"Yeah, me neither," Kirsten said honestly as she drew Ryan's head towards her and kissed him on the forehead before pulling him into a hug just as she had with Theresa a little earlier. "What's going on?" She asked, turning to Sandy.
"They're debating the obvious," he replied with a sarcastic grunt. "Circumstantial evidence, no motive, hardly any opportunity and the absolute denial of Ryan's involvement from Theresa; it's a stumper."
"Is she okay?" asked Ryan quietly at the mention of Theresa. "They wouldn’t let me see her."
"She's fine," Kirsten told him with a reassuring squeeze of his shoulders. "I'll fill you in in a moment."
"Thanks."
"Sandy?" Kirsten persisted. "Can we take him home?"
"I'm pretty sure they're just going through the motions. I'll go see if I can speed things up a little." Sandy smiled at reassuringly in Ryan's direction. "Okay, kid?"
"Yeah," Ryan nodded, returning Sandy's smile with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Sandy limped back towards the interview rooms, leaving Kirsten alone with Ryan and his self-loathing. Not wanting to invade his traditionally closely-guarded personal space, she let her hand fall from his shoulders and rubbing his back a little in passing, before closing her right hand around his left.
"You look tired," she said as she felt his fist flex gratefully beneath her palm.
"I didn’t get much sleep-" Ryan admitted before looking at her properly. "I'm so sorry, the things I said last night-"
"- Can wait until later," said Kirsten resolutely. Accepting Ryan's small sigh of response as a sign of thanks, she squeezed his hand again.
His head filling again with the desire to sleep, Ryan rubbed at each of his eyes in turn with his thumb, wincing involuntarily a little as he flexed the lightly bruised knuckles.
"What happened to your hand?" Kirsten asked noticing. "And come to that, your face?"
"I got into a fight."
"Oh Ryan," Kirsten sighed, with disappointment. "We can't leave you alone for five minutes, can we?"
"I'm sorry," whispered Ryan quietly, letting his head and gaze drop downwards, reestablishing his relationship with the tile.
"Not with the police, though? Right?" Kirsten asked him directly, prodding his leg when he didn't respond. "Hey. Please tell me you haven't been fighting police officers."
Ryan shook his head, embarrassment preventing him from looking at her, "Just Jay."
"Well, that's something I guess."
Ryan frowned, not entirely convinced it matted. As far as he was concerned, who he'd been fighting didn’t matter, just by doing it he'd let Kirsten and Sandy down again. His first instinct on seeing Jay had been to knock him into next week, screw the consequences; it was a self-destructive and aggressive streak that he hated and worried him in equal measure. Luke, Oliver, Eddie, now Jay. Just how many more times was he going to channel his inner A.J. and disappoint the Cohens?
"So did you win?"
"Not really," the corners of his mouth turning upwards slightly in spite of himself at Kirsten's deliberately jovial tone as he glanced at her momentarily.
"Do me favor, Ryan," Kirsten said leaning her head back against the wall, "When you get home, I want you try and stop fighting, and I don't just mean the normal adolescent male kind of fighting, I mean us, I mean fighting yourself all the time. Fighting your choices."
Feeling himself cracking inside and out, Ryan looked at her sideways again, not even knowing how he felt, let alone what he should say, searching her expression for answers.
Sensing his confusion, Kirsten placed her arm across his shoulders again. "You don't have to say anything now. Just promise you'll try."
His emotional and physical reserves at last exhausted, Ryan leaned back defeatedly, letting his head drop into Kirsten's shoulder. Their mutual understanding insulating them from the harshness of their surroundings, they said nothing as they squeezed each other tight, Kirsten touching the back of his head lightly with her hand even as he butted subconsciously against her shoulder in frustration.
"I don't want to do this anymore. I can't."
"It's okay; we're not going to let you."
Letting his tired eyes close, Ryan felt like that maybe this time, he stood a chance.
~~~
To the relief of all three of them, Sandy was correct in his predictions and the police had released Ryan without charge within the hour, with an embargo on returning to the house until it had been cleared as a crime scene and a strong suggestion that he re-evaluated the company he kept.
Kirsten's smooth driving, the warm late afternoon sun and Sandy's rhythmic snoring up front were kindly conducive to sleep and he'd dozed most of the way back to Newport, only waking up as they pulled in through the main entrance of their gated community. No matter how many times he drove through this way, he couldn't help but wonder when he might start to get used to it.
"You never do," said Sandy, almost eerily reading his mind.
"What?" said Ryan, wondering if he'd heard right.
"Get to used it," Sandy said. "It's been over ten years now and I still can't forget that it's the complete antithesis of what I imagined home would be when I was a kid."
"Of course, that's mainly 'cause you imagined you'd be living in the penthouse of the Rockefeller Center," teased Kirsten.
"Well, that's true," chuckled Sandy, twisting to look back at Ryan in the back seat. "It took me a long time to realize that a home is a lot more than bricks and mortar; it's people. Family."
"Oh, God," said Kirsten in mock disgust even as Ryan's brow furrowed skeptically, "I think I'm going to throw up."
"Hey!" Sandy protested, turning back to his wife "You're destroying a beautiful moment, here honey. Here I am trying to prove to Ryan that being one of us doesn't necessarily mean being one of them and you're making vomit references. Totally raining on my parade."
"Throwing up on it actually," Kirsten replied cheerfully without remorse.
Ryan smiled as his guardians bickered good-naturedly in the front. "Trust me, you don't have to prove anything to me. I get it."
Catching his eye in the rear-view mirror, Kirsten returned the smile, saying nothing as she pulled into the driveway and drove up towards the house.
"Oh my God," Sandy muttered suddenly, drawing Ryan and Kirsten's attention to the front of the house.
There, getting to his lanky feet and walking to meet the approaching car, was Seth.
Pulling the car to an abrupt stop, Kirsten barely took the time to pull the handbrake on before jumping out of the car and enveloping Seth in a fierce hug.
"I'm sorry Mom," he said, as she broke away for a moment and studied him at arm's length before pulling him back close again.
"Don't- Just don't, okay?" she whispered with a slight yet unmistakable trace of anger even as tears burst out unwarranted from her. "Not right now."
Coming up beside them, Sandy took a moment to take in the sight of Seth back with them. There was something undeniably different about his son, and it wasn't just the five o'clock shadow, or the sun-touched darkening of his skin. There was an almost palpable aura of maturity, of contentment, surrounding Seth, and Sandy drank it in.
"Dad?" Seth asked nervously the aura blurring as his father's gaze examined him.
"Come here," said Sandy taking Seth whole into his arms, his hand touching the mess of curls that had grown even more wild and frizzy during Seth's adventures. "Do you have any idea how much we missed you?"
"About as much as I missed you?"
"Something like that."
"Ryan?" Seth muttered rhetorically, catching sight of him for the first time as he took the keys out of the ignition where Kirsten had left them swinging and shut the car door. Walking towards the Cohens, Ryan couldn't help but feel like the top-heavy end of an equation.
"Keys," he said, throwing them at Sandy, who caught them neatly.
"Thanks."
Seth smiled at Ryan, sensing a story behind his friend's tired eyes, trying to walk the fine line between relief at his return and intrusive worry at the reason for it.
"You're back?"
"Yeah, you too."
"Come on guys, don't make out like you're too manly to hug this one out," said Sandy sensing the unfamiliar awkwardness between the two and attempting to dissipate by giving Ryan a friendly nudge in Seth's direction.
Taking the initiative, Seth stepped over to Ryan and hugged him enthusiastically, "I don't know what brought you back, but I'm really glad you are."
"Me too," replied Ryan honestly, returning the gesture, despite his reservations.
Dropping his voice so only Ryan could hear, Seth added, "And I should have done this when you left."
His shoulders stiffening, "Yeah, you should," Ryan whispered in similarly muffled tones before breaking away.
Seeing a flicker of the old self-conscious Seth glimmering through at his words, Ryan felt guilt rise to join his anger, relief and confusion at seeing his other, less-related-to-him brother again.
"I think this calls for a prodigious amount of Thai food," said Sandy, retrieving Seth's duffel bag from the porch and unlocking the front door as Kirsten pulled both boys in close for a three-way bear hug.
"Sounds good to me," Kirsten agreed, leading them back into the house, trying to work out where to go from here.
Pak Choi. It seemed as good a start as any.
~~~
Read? Review? I'm tired. One more chapter.
~~~
Chapter Index: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.
Fandom: The O.C.
Rating / Genre: PG-13+ / Gen / Hiatus (1-2)
Words: 3429
Spoilers: Season One
Disclaimer: The O.C. is property of Fox.
Schmoopy Dedication: With much gratitude to my beta, translator and friend demonic_cookie.
First Note: Two updates in a month. I'm improving. And I wrote this late, it's unbeta-ed and we all know how I like to mistype. I hope it's okay.
Second Note: This story is, at least for the time being, dormant. Who knows, maybe one day it will be active again. Until that day, it's not completed, but it is concluded.
Summary: Ryan's in Chino, Seth's gone travelling and Kirsten's had just about enough from both of them.
~~~
" And just because you think you're never going home,
Don't mean that you'll never arrive."
Move On, Jet
~~~
Kirsten sat on the hard wooden bench, her eyes closed, lost in her thoughts as she absent-mindedly traced her fingers around the edge of one of the several evenly spaced holes intended to prevent those who found themselves on the wrong side of the law from bolting. This bench, this waiting area, the two interview rooms next door, the cells down the corridor; they were all so alien to her. Despite her own youthful misadventures, it had never really crossed her mind before Ryan that she would ever find herself or her loved ones on the wrong side of the law. It just honestly never occurred to her; they weren't that kind of family. Whatever that was supposed to mean. Now her dad was being investigated by the D.A.'s office, Ryan had been arrested again and in all honesty, she had absolutely no clue what Seth had been up to lately but it wouldn’t be the greatest surprise in the world if some of it was less than one hundred percent legal.
It was different though, now. Ryan had changed them all, without even realizing. Somehow, without even noticing she had become one of those other kind of families; the ones that took life, luck and prosperity for granted. Even despite Seth's unhappiness, and in turn Sandy's and her own, there were just certain baselines that Kirsten had always assumed would be there. Having Ryan had woken her up from that. Her refreshed outlook on her Newport living was just one of a million other reasons that Ryan meant the world to her. The gaping ache of hurt in her heart when he'd left them, first at the beginning of the summer and again last night, just served to reiterate it.
"Mrs. Cohen?"
Kirsten opened her eyes and looked across in the direction of the familiar voice. Sitting down at the other end of the bench was Theresa, her sad eyes circled darkly with recently shed tears.
"Theresa. Are you okay?"
"Me? I'm fine," said Theresa in surprise at the warm reception from Kirsten.
"Really?"
"Well, not really," Theresa said, drawing Kirsten's gaze down to her wrist, cuffed to the bench, "But I don't think I'm in a position to ask for sympathy, right?"
Awkwardly, Kirsten smiled a little, unsure of what to say.
"That's what I thought." Her voice cracking, Theresa started to cry, "I am so sorry."
Kirsten knew she was supposed to be angry with Theresa, for having embroiled Ryan in this mess. But truthfully, she just didn’t have it in her. With her head hung forward, her beautifully dark long hair framing her face, Theresa looked every bit as sad, every bit as lonely and every bit as lost as Ryan had sounded when they'd talked on the phone earlier that morning. Without thinking, Kirsten moved towards her and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders, letting her cry into her own.
Letting her cry her way out, Kirsten tucked a stray strand of Theresa's hair behind her ear and kissed her gently on the head. "It's going to be okay, you know. Sandy's sorted out worse than this."
"He was never supposed to find out, you know?" Theresa said finally, sitting up a little and wiping at her eyes. "Not that it makes it better. Ryan, he's done so much for me, even before this."
Theresa looked at Kirsten, trying to find the right way to explain the unexplainable.
"You ever have one of those friends who are just so much part of your life, you can't imagine ever being without them? They just are, like in every part of you. When you remember growing up, or being at school, they're in every memory, even the ones they shouldn't be and you don't even know why?"
Kirsten nodded.
"It's used to be like that for us. I thought if I could get enough money, we could go back to that. He'd wouldn’t have to work so hard, the only thing we'd have to worry about would be raising our child the right way."
"I understand," Kirsten replied, beginning really to comprehend the full emotional scope of Ryan's quandary for the first time. "I'm not saying I agree with your methods, but I get it."
"Really?" Theresa replied with more than a hint of uncertainty.
"It's different for us," said Kirsten, her gaze resting on Theresa's gentle bump, "When I was pregnant with Seth, I knew that everything I'd felt before then was just a shadow of what I was feeling now. And I was lucky, I had Sandy, we were both more or less out of college, and even though neither of us were exactly getting along with our families, we had enough support between us to know that the money side of things would be okay."
Kirsten stopped, trying to make sure Theresa heard her words in the way they were intended.
"My point is, I know how truly terrifying it is to wake up each morning and worry about if I'm going to be good enough, if I'm going to be strong enough and even if I'm not, if he's going to stay with me."
Theresa looked at Kirsten her eyes wide in surprise that somebody like that understood what it was like to be somebody like her.
Kirsten shrugged off Theresa's surprise and looked back at her levelly, "I know what it's like to say, "I would do anything for my child," and mean it."
Theresa looked down again, and subconsciously touched her hand lightly to her small rounding of her belly.
"Even after everything that's happened, I can't believe I ever thought about not having this baby."
To unsure of her own thoughts and feelings to respond, Kirsten remained silent, her fingers straying once again to one of the holes in the bench.
Watching Kirsten trace patterns next to her, Theresa struggled to process all that had happened in the last few days. Pulling her thoughts together at last, she frowned and looked back up at Kirsten abruptly.
"Why are you being so nice to me? All I've ever done is cause trouble for you and your family."
"Believe me, we can manage that one all by ourselves," Kirsten said with a sigh as her thoughts drifted momentarily to Seth. "We both know I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hurt and angry when Ryan chose you over us this summer. And no matter what your reasons, getting involved in whatever exactly it is you've got yourself into was stupid and selfish, especially given how hard Ryan has worked to put that behind him."
Taking a moment to dull her growing frustration, Kirsten looked at Theresa and saw her determination not to start crying again. She sighed.
"But none of that matters now. For one thing, because if I were in your place, I can't honestly say I wouldn't have considered doing the same. And because for another, whatever else has happened or might happen, I know you love Ryan just as much as we do."
Not seeing the point of disputing the indisputable, Theresa laid herself open, her voice catching. "Yeah. He kind of has that effect on people."
Ignoring the metal chain tethering Theresa to a life she didn't deserve, Kirsten reached out and took the girl's hand in her own. "And your mom's on her way?"
"Yeah. She's coming back from her sister's. It's a drive though, so I don't know when she'll get here."
"We'll wait with you."
"You don't have to do that-"
"- It's okay," Kirsten said with kind firmness. "We've got time."
"Thank you."
Their fund of words almost completely emptied, Kirsten and Theresa sat next to one another, content to let silence take over. Down the corridor, one of the doors opened and a police officer sternly directed a disgruntled Jay towards the heavyset door that led to the cells. Feeling Theresa bristle beside her, Kirsten gave Theresa's hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
"He was trying to blame it all on Ryan, you know. Jay. " Theresa said after a moment, her eyes following Jay's departing figure. "Said Ryan's brother had hooked him up with his connections from inside."
Kirsten frowned, "I didn't know Trey was- I mean, I thought it was just cars-"
"- It is," said Theresa, rescuing Kirsten from her awkwardness. "Jay was just trying to cause trouble. Hijo de puta," she cursed before remembering her company, "Sorry."
"It's okay," Kirsten replied, smiling at the brief flash of the gutsy Theresa she remembered from the spring. "Seems like an accurate description to me."
They smiled at each other. Seeing the police officer who had been escorting Jay return from the cells and head in their direction, Theresa let go of Kirsten's hand. "Looks like my ride's here."
"Wait for Sandy before you tell them anything else."
"It's okay. I know what I've got to say."
"Theresa-"
"- I promise not to sign anything, alright?" Theresa interrupted determinedly as the police officer released her from the bench before taking her hands behind her back once more. "I have to do this."
Seeing that Theresa's mind was made up, Kirsten nodded. "Okay."
"Will you tell him I'm sorry?"
"I'll tell him."
"Thank you."
Allowing the police officer to lead her away again, Theresa looked back at Kirsten, her calm veneer only barely remaining in tact.
"Please don't wait for me. It'll just make things harder for him."
Uncertain of what to say Kirsten nodded again in agreement. Left alone once more, Kirsten sighed and closed her eyes. Despite the circumstances and the undeniable degree of animosity she felt towards Theresa right now, she couldn't bring herself to hate her. Everything they had spoken about was true; there was nothing she wouldn't do for Seth, and now Ryan too. It was just the way of things. Now all she had to do was find a way to get them both home, to stay.
Interrupted from her private machinations by the sound of a heavy door pulling back, Kirsten opened her eyes. Across the hall from the interview room that Jay had vacated, Sandy emerged with Ryan, his hand resting reassuringly on Ryan's shoulder, the teenager's own hands remaining conspicuously behind his back as an officer flanked him in the direction of Kirsten's resting place.
Offering a smile of greeting as she stood to meet them, Kirsten made a deliberate effort to draw Ryan's gaze away from the floor.
"Hey there."
"Hey honey," said Sandy, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek as the officer accompanying Ryan cuffed him to the bench.
Ignoring Ryan's unwillingness to make eye contact with her, Kirsten sat down next to him and turned his head gently towards her. "You okay?"
Feeling the ever-present lump of emotion rise in his chest again, Ryan frowned as he murmured quietly in response, "Not really."
"Yeah, me neither," Kirsten said honestly as she drew Ryan's head towards her and kissed him on the forehead before pulling him into a hug just as she had with Theresa a little earlier. "What's going on?" She asked, turning to Sandy.
"They're debating the obvious," he replied with a sarcastic grunt. "Circumstantial evidence, no motive, hardly any opportunity and the absolute denial of Ryan's involvement from Theresa; it's a stumper."
"Is she okay?" asked Ryan quietly at the mention of Theresa. "They wouldn’t let me see her."
"She's fine," Kirsten told him with a reassuring squeeze of his shoulders. "I'll fill you in in a moment."
"Thanks."
"Sandy?" Kirsten persisted. "Can we take him home?"
"I'm pretty sure they're just going through the motions. I'll go see if I can speed things up a little." Sandy smiled at reassuringly in Ryan's direction. "Okay, kid?"
"Yeah," Ryan nodded, returning Sandy's smile with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Sandy limped back towards the interview rooms, leaving Kirsten alone with Ryan and his self-loathing. Not wanting to invade his traditionally closely-guarded personal space, she let her hand fall from his shoulders and rubbing his back a little in passing, before closing her right hand around his left.
"You look tired," she said as she felt his fist flex gratefully beneath her palm.
"I didn’t get much sleep-" Ryan admitted before looking at her properly. "I'm so sorry, the things I said last night-"
"- Can wait until later," said Kirsten resolutely. Accepting Ryan's small sigh of response as a sign of thanks, she squeezed his hand again.
His head filling again with the desire to sleep, Ryan rubbed at each of his eyes in turn with his thumb, wincing involuntarily a little as he flexed the lightly bruised knuckles.
"What happened to your hand?" Kirsten asked noticing. "And come to that, your face?"
"I got into a fight."
"Oh Ryan," Kirsten sighed, with disappointment. "We can't leave you alone for five minutes, can we?"
"I'm sorry," whispered Ryan quietly, letting his head and gaze drop downwards, reestablishing his relationship with the tile.
"Not with the police, though? Right?" Kirsten asked him directly, prodding his leg when he didn't respond. "Hey. Please tell me you haven't been fighting police officers."
Ryan shook his head, embarrassment preventing him from looking at her, "Just Jay."
"Well, that's something I guess."
Ryan frowned, not entirely convinced it matted. As far as he was concerned, who he'd been fighting didn’t matter, just by doing it he'd let Kirsten and Sandy down again. His first instinct on seeing Jay had been to knock him into next week, screw the consequences; it was a self-destructive and aggressive streak that he hated and worried him in equal measure. Luke, Oliver, Eddie, now Jay. Just how many more times was he going to channel his inner A.J. and disappoint the Cohens?
"So did you win?"
"Not really," the corners of his mouth turning upwards slightly in spite of himself at Kirsten's deliberately jovial tone as he glanced at her momentarily.
"Do me favor, Ryan," Kirsten said leaning her head back against the wall, "When you get home, I want you try and stop fighting, and I don't just mean the normal adolescent male kind of fighting, I mean us, I mean fighting yourself all the time. Fighting your choices."
Feeling himself cracking inside and out, Ryan looked at her sideways again, not even knowing how he felt, let alone what he should say, searching her expression for answers.
Sensing his confusion, Kirsten placed her arm across his shoulders again. "You don't have to say anything now. Just promise you'll try."
His emotional and physical reserves at last exhausted, Ryan leaned back defeatedly, letting his head drop into Kirsten's shoulder. Their mutual understanding insulating them from the harshness of their surroundings, they said nothing as they squeezed each other tight, Kirsten touching the back of his head lightly with her hand even as he butted subconsciously against her shoulder in frustration.
"I don't want to do this anymore. I can't."
"It's okay; we're not going to let you."
Letting his tired eyes close, Ryan felt like that maybe this time, he stood a chance.
~~~
To the relief of all three of them, Sandy was correct in his predictions and the police had released Ryan without charge within the hour, with an embargo on returning to the house until it had been cleared as a crime scene and a strong suggestion that he re-evaluated the company he kept.
Kirsten's smooth driving, the warm late afternoon sun and Sandy's rhythmic snoring up front were kindly conducive to sleep and he'd dozed most of the way back to Newport, only waking up as they pulled in through the main entrance of their gated community. No matter how many times he drove through this way, he couldn't help but wonder when he might start to get used to it.
"You never do," said Sandy, almost eerily reading his mind.
"What?" said Ryan, wondering if he'd heard right.
"Get to used it," Sandy said. "It's been over ten years now and I still can't forget that it's the complete antithesis of what I imagined home would be when I was a kid."
"Of course, that's mainly 'cause you imagined you'd be living in the penthouse of the Rockefeller Center," teased Kirsten.
"Well, that's true," chuckled Sandy, twisting to look back at Ryan in the back seat. "It took me a long time to realize that a home is a lot more than bricks and mortar; it's people. Family."
"Oh, God," said Kirsten in mock disgust even as Ryan's brow furrowed skeptically, "I think I'm going to throw up."
"Hey!" Sandy protested, turning back to his wife "You're destroying a beautiful moment, here honey. Here I am trying to prove to Ryan that being one of us doesn't necessarily mean being one of them and you're making vomit references. Totally raining on my parade."
"Throwing up on it actually," Kirsten replied cheerfully without remorse.
Ryan smiled as his guardians bickered good-naturedly in the front. "Trust me, you don't have to prove anything to me. I get it."
Catching his eye in the rear-view mirror, Kirsten returned the smile, saying nothing as she pulled into the driveway and drove up towards the house.
"Oh my God," Sandy muttered suddenly, drawing Ryan and Kirsten's attention to the front of the house.
There, getting to his lanky feet and walking to meet the approaching car, was Seth.
Pulling the car to an abrupt stop, Kirsten barely took the time to pull the handbrake on before jumping out of the car and enveloping Seth in a fierce hug.
"I'm sorry Mom," he said, as she broke away for a moment and studied him at arm's length before pulling him back close again.
"Don't- Just don't, okay?" she whispered with a slight yet unmistakable trace of anger even as tears burst out unwarranted from her. "Not right now."
Coming up beside them, Sandy took a moment to take in the sight of Seth back with them. There was something undeniably different about his son, and it wasn't just the five o'clock shadow, or the sun-touched darkening of his skin. There was an almost palpable aura of maturity, of contentment, surrounding Seth, and Sandy drank it in.
"Dad?" Seth asked nervously the aura blurring as his father's gaze examined him.
"Come here," said Sandy taking Seth whole into his arms, his hand touching the mess of curls that had grown even more wild and frizzy during Seth's adventures. "Do you have any idea how much we missed you?"
"About as much as I missed you?"
"Something like that."
"Ryan?" Seth muttered rhetorically, catching sight of him for the first time as he took the keys out of the ignition where Kirsten had left them swinging and shut the car door. Walking towards the Cohens, Ryan couldn't help but feel like the top-heavy end of an equation.
"Keys," he said, throwing them at Sandy, who caught them neatly.
"Thanks."
Seth smiled at Ryan, sensing a story behind his friend's tired eyes, trying to walk the fine line between relief at his return and intrusive worry at the reason for it.
"You're back?"
"Yeah, you too."
"Come on guys, don't make out like you're too manly to hug this one out," said Sandy sensing the unfamiliar awkwardness between the two and attempting to dissipate by giving Ryan a friendly nudge in Seth's direction.
Taking the initiative, Seth stepped over to Ryan and hugged him enthusiastically, "I don't know what brought you back, but I'm really glad you are."
"Me too," replied Ryan honestly, returning the gesture, despite his reservations.
Dropping his voice so only Ryan could hear, Seth added, "And I should have done this when you left."
His shoulders stiffening, "Yeah, you should," Ryan whispered in similarly muffled tones before breaking away.
Seeing a flicker of the old self-conscious Seth glimmering through at his words, Ryan felt guilt rise to join his anger, relief and confusion at seeing his other, less-related-to-him brother again.
"I think this calls for a prodigious amount of Thai food," said Sandy, retrieving Seth's duffel bag from the porch and unlocking the front door as Kirsten pulled both boys in close for a three-way bear hug.
"Sounds good to me," Kirsten agreed, leading them back into the house, trying to work out where to go from here.
Pak Choi. It seemed as good a start as any.
~~~
Read? Review? I'm tired. One more chapter.
~~~
Chapter Index: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.