Famous Obsession

OCSFC 5

famous99 — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 16:32:23 GMT

Title: That Night
Rating: PG
Beta: None - Forgive the errors
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything relating to The OC.
Notes: Written for brandywine421

Sentence: Ryan watches as Volchek's car bursts into flame at the bottom of the hill and tries to think over Marissa's screams.

Ryan watche as Volchek's car bursts into flame at the bottom of the hill and tries to think over Marissa's screams. He doesn’t want to panic, but he knows that despite everything that he’s been through, that there is no coming back from this disaster. This is the end of the line for him. This is the one time Sandy won’t be able to pull him out of the rubble he’s made of his life, dust off his pants, and help him glue the pieces of his life back together. This time, Ryan thought, he was going to jail. And not Juvie. This time, it probably meant a family reunion with his dad and brother at Chino Hills Correctional Facility. He could kiss his dream of college and a better life good-bye.

There’s no sign of life coming from the debris of Volchek’s van. Yet the screaming won’t fade from his ears. Ryan pulls out his phone and shakily dials 911. He gives as many details as he can manage, and the operator on the other end assures him that police and EMS are on the way. Ryan’s stomach plummets down to his ankles. He considers running, but knows that it would be worse. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else on the road. But he’s already called 911 and while he didn’t give his name to the operator, they certainly had his cell phone number. It wouldn’t take much for the police to track him down. Leaving the scene of the accident would just make him look guiltier.

Why did he have to go after Volchek the night of prom? Why had he given in to Volchek’s blackmail? Why hadn’t he gone straight to Sandy? Just because he was eighteen didn’t mean he could handle these things on his own. Why did everyone think that at eighteen you magically turned into an adult? And now there were two people dead at his hands.

“Sandy. It’s Ryan.” He tries to mask the tears already in the back of his throat, but he can’t.
“Hey, Kid. What’s the matter? You don’t sound right.”

Leave it to Sandy to know that something was off. “I’m in trouble Sandy. There was an accident. Can you come? I – I….” His voice trails off. He doesn’t know how to explain. He doesn’t know where to start.

“Just tell me where you are. I’ll come and get you.”

“Sandy, I need my lawyer and my dad.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. And I’ll be wearing both hats, kid. Just tell me where to go.”

So Ryan tells him where he is, hoping it won’t take long for Sandy to get there. Sirens are already blaring in the distance, and the screams seem to be getting louder. Ryan can’t think straight.

“What do I say until you get here?” He doesn’t want to hang up. He doesn’t want to let go of the tenuous connection he has with Sandy at the moment.

“Nothing kid. Or as little as possible.”

Ryan can hear the beep beep of Sandy’s car alarm. The door opens and quickly slams closed. From his end, Ryan can even make out as the engine starts up with a silent purr.

“The police are almost here,” Ryan says, hearing the sirens grow louder.

“Tell me what happened, kid. Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”

Ryan touches his forehead and for the first time notices a trickle of blood coming from somewhere on his scalp. “I’m okay. It’s no big deal.” Though he’s first noticing the pain in his torso. It’s his ribcage, he thinks. He’d probably knocked his ribs into the steering wheel when his car had made the final impact with Volchek’s van.

“That’s the first thing you ask for. You ask for medical attention, and tell them as little as possible, until I get there. If you’re hurt, the police won’t press you right away. They’ll ask for the most minimum of details, okay? I think I can be there in fifteen minutes or so.”

Fifteen minutes feels like ages, but he knows that Sandy can’t make it that much faster. Fifteen minutes would mean Sandy was driving at a breakneck speed.

“Ryan, I’m going to stay on the phone with you until I get there. Okay? Just hang on while I ask you a few questions.”

Ryan blinks rapidly, focusing his attention back to Sandy on the other end. For a moment, the flames of the van below had hypnotized him.

“Ryan. Ryan? Are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“Are you losing consciousness? Talk to me, kid.”

“No, Sandy. I don’t think I hit my head“

“Ryan, I have to ask. Where’s Marissa? She was supposed to be in the car with you.”

That’s when Ryan realizes that it wasn’t the wail of sirens he’d been hearing. It was Marissa’s screeching. She was t the edge of the cliff looking down at Volchek’s van.

“Is she hurt?”

“I – I don’t think so. She walked out of the jeep.” The impact had been on his side of the car. Not hers.

“That’s good. You make sure that the first thing either of you ask for is medical attention. I don’t want either of you talking to the police until you get the necessary medical attention.”
“I did this, Sandy. And now Volchek and his girl are dead.”

He hears the sharp intake of breathe on the other end of the line. Then Sandy asks, “Start from the beginning, Ryan. Tell me everything you can before EMS gets there.”

So Ryan tells him the whole story. He tells him how he, Seth, Summer, and Marissa went to the old Model home, the one he had burned down when he first came to Newport, for their own private graduation party. He told him about how Marissa had hugged everyone good-bye and then how they had gotten into his new jeep to head for the airport.

Ryan rubbed his eyes, wiping a thin stream of blood away from his eyelid. “We were talking, Marissa and I, we were enjoying being friends, when someone hit us from behind.” It hadn’t been too hard a thump. Ryan had still managed to retain control of the car. But there was another thump, and then Marissa recognized Volchek’s van as she turned in her seat to see what was going on.

“I didn’t know what to do, Sandy.” Ryan could hear the heavy controlled breathing on the other end. “I tried accelerating, but Volchek drove up alongside us and started to swerve into us, hitting us on the driver’s side. He was trying to run us off the road, and it was getting harder and harder to keep control of the jeep.” His voice choked. “So I sped up again, and then suddenly hit the brakes, while turning the wheel to cut Volchek off. My car swerved in front of his and there was no way he could stop in time. I guess he tried to swerve too, and his car went off the side of the road. It went down a cliff and then burst into flames.
“I killed them Sandy. I killed them both.”

“It was self defense, kid.” Ryan could tell Sandy was crying on the other end. “You did the only thing you could to preserve your own lives. It wasn’t your fault.”

“The police won’t see it that way. Volchek and I had a history. Everyone knew it.”

“Maybe so. But it wasn’t your fault.”

This time the sirens were real and they stopped inches from Ryan’s car. Two uniformed men jumped out of their van, one running to Ryan and the other to Marissa.

“Are you kids okay?” shouted one of the men.

“Sandy, EMS is here.”

“Good. I want them to take a good look at you. I’m almost there. I’m not hanging up; I’m keeping the line open, but go to them. Let them make sure you’re both all right.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Hey, are you okay?”

Ryan nodded. “I think so.” But the EMS attendant zeroed in on the cut on his head.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. Can you walk?”

“Yeah. Yes.” Ryan blinked rapidly, trying to focus his attention on the balding EMT.

“Good. Come, let’s get you to the back of the van and have you checked out.”

Ryan followed him back to the ambulance. Marissa was already sitting on the edge of the truck and the other EMT was looking at her cuts and abrasions.

“Who’s on the phone with you?”

“My dad. He’s on the way.” Ryan sat down next to Marissa and squeezed her hand with his free one. “What about the people below? The ones in the van that blew up?”

The EMS attendant peered down over the cliff. “I’m sorry. I don’t think they made it. We’ll have to wait for the fire engines to clear the scene before we try and help them.”

Ryan swallowed.

“The police and fire will be here soon.” They could all hear the additional sirens in the background. “You can tell them everything then. We just need to make sure you’re okay. Do you hurt anywhere?”

Ryan nodded and pointed to his rib cage. The EMT gently pressed and tried to assess his injuries.

“Ryan, Ryan.”

It took him a moment to realize where the voice was coming from. Marissa pointed to the open phone that was still clutched in his other hand.

“Ryan,” he heard again. “I see the ambulance up ahead. I’m almost there.”

And suddenly, Ryan felt a sense of relief. Maybe Sandy could make it okay again.
FIN

Dawned Sentences:
Taylor comes back from the Sorbonne seven months pregnant and bitter and the spawn in her stomach only wants shrimp tacos.

Kaitlyn realizes when Ryan takes his place at the altar to wait for his bride to walk down the aisle that she can't keep the secret any longer.

"You're naked." "Yes, yes - I am. You should be, too." "Okay."

FIC!

famous99 — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 16:39:56 GMT

Title: Headache (Part V of V)
Rating: G
AN: I considered asking someone to beta this update for me, but I decided, I'd probably never post. So Forgive me. All mistakes are mine. And I'm sure there are plenty.

This was originally posted for the OCSFC #4. My sentence from helen_c - Ryan has a headache; someone offers some TLC.

Previous chapters can be read here.

I don't own the OC or any of its characters.

Ryan stirred when he heard the door scraping against linoleum and the noise of clattering metal. He was relieved that his head wasn’t hurting all that much anymore. The pain he was feeling was almost a fleeting phantom ache. As if the memory of what had been all those hours was lingering. He turned his head to the side and saw Kirsten and Seth sitting in the chairs the nurse had provided for them. Seth’s head was on his mother’s shoulder. His mouth was hanging open just a bit, and he could hear a soft snore. Ryan wondered how long they’d both been out.

Kirsten, on the other hand, was wide awake. She was scrolling through messages on her Blackberry. But the noise of the opening door had pulled her gaze from the tiny screen. Ryan followed her eyes and they rested on a young woman wearing black slacks, a white shirt, and a black vest. It was obviously some sort of uniform. Despite her neat and trimmed appearance, Ryan saw the haggard and tired look on the woman’s face. It reminded him of how his mother would come home after a twelve-hour shift at some thankless, minimum-wage job.

“Ryan Atwood?” The woman glanced at a sheet of paper that she pulled out of her vest pocket.

“Yes,” Kirsten answered for him, before he could find his voice. She smiled, acknowledging that he was up.

“I’m Libby. I’ll be taking Mr. Atwood for his CT Scan.”

“Oh. Of course,” Kirsten said. “You must be from the hospital’s transport service.”

“We call it an escort service, but transport is fine. Escort service sounds like I should be wearing a pretty dress and hanging onto the arm of some rich guy who can’t get a date.”

Ryan grinned. He liked this woman. He noticed Kirsten was suppressing an amused grin. He wondered if she was thinking of her father. That was certainly the image that popped into his mind when Libby spoke.

Libby pushed a wheel chair into the room and put it right along side Ryan’s bed. She started to untangle the tubes attached to the IV poll and fiddled with the railing on Ryan’s bed.

“It’s okay if I come with?” Kirsten asked standing, and pulling her things together. The movement finally woke Seth. He rubbed his eyes, looking around him, obviously disoriented from his brief nap.

“Of course, Mrs. Atwood.” Libby pulled down the rail and brought up the head of the bed, so Ryan would be in a sitting position.

“It’s Mrs. Cohen.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Kirsten smiled. “It’s okay.” She turned to her son and ordered, “Seth, go tell your dad where to meet us. He should be right outside the emergency room, on the phone. “A client called with an urgent matter.”

Seth opened up his mouth to protest, but Kirsten pre-empted and said, “Now Seth.” Reluctantly, Seth obeyed. Kirsten knew Seth wanted to stay with Ryan, but she needed Sandy to stay in the loop. Eventually, they would all meet up again. For now, it was important that Ryan have an adult with him. Children – even the mostly grown teenagers- needed an adult advocate in a hospital.

As Ryan settled into the chair with Libby’s help, Kirsten smiled at her young charge. He didn’t look quite as pale as he did when they brought him into the ER. Some of the color had returned to his cheeks, but he still looked worn and tired. The tousled hair, and rumpled hospital gown, didn’t help to complete the picture of a healthy teenager.

“How are you feeling?” Kirsten asked Ryan as she followed Libby’s brisk pace to the elevator? “Is the pain still so intense?”

Ryan shook his head, but immediately regretted it. The pain was still there, lurking in the background, waiting for him to make a wrong move. “Not so bad anymore.” His voice was raspy. “I guess the juice worked.” He pointed to the IV pole, letting Kirsten know he meant the fluids and medicines the doctors had pumped into him.

“That’s good. Let’s pray, this is just a really bad scare.”

“That would be nice.” But Ryan knew he had the Atwood luck.

It only took a few minutes to get to the CT Scan room. Kirsten dutifully, though reluctantly agreed to stay right outside the room while they conducted the scan. She squeezed his shoulder and assured him that she would be waiting right outside the room when until the test is over.

“And if you need me to come in, just tell them. I’ll be right here.”

“Thanks, Kirsten. I’ll be fine.”

Libby pushed Ryan into the room. “You have a cool relationship with your stepmom. Most stepparents I see come through the ER don’t seem to be so loving, you know?”

“She’s not my stepmom,” Ryan said automatically.

“Oh. Sorry. I just assumed that with the different last names…”

Ryan sighed. “She’s my foster mom. But yeah, I’m lucky.”

“Well, I better go find the technician. They’re supposed to be here. And I need them to sign off that you arrived here safe and sound.”

When Ryan was left alone, he looked around the large cold room. He wrapped his arms around himself as he noted the white walls, and cabinets and counters that lined the walls. He looked on with interest at the large machine that looked much like a donut or an oversized Lifesaver™. There was a long, narrow bench coming out of the machine. Ryan figured he would have to lie down on the bench while they ran the scan.

The machine was intimidating, and just as he considered walking out of the room to stay with Kirsten, a technician walked in. “Sorry for the delay,” he said. “Are you wearing any metal?” The technician asked, getting right down to business. He scanned Ryan’s attire, noting that he was in a hospital gown. “An earring or a watch?”

Ryan shook his head, but as he glanced down at his wrist and noticed the band, he said, “oh. I guess I should take this off.” He pulled it off and gave it to the technician.

“OK. Then let’s get the test going. You’ll need to be very still. But the scan should only take 20 minutes or so. I’m going to strap you down so that we can maintain your position, but we can hear you, so call out if you need us.”

Ryan’s stomach tied in knots at the thought of being tied down, but he didn’t say anything. He just wanted the test over with.

Noting Ryan’s anxious expression the technician said, “You know. You’re technically a pediatric patient. I can ask your mom to come in with you.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“We’ll give her a led apron to protect herself.”

“No. It’s okay. I’ll be okay.” But he thought it would be comforting to have Kirsten or Sandy waiting at the other end of the machine.

“Are you sure?"

Ryan swallowed his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

He got up from the wheelchair and climbed onto the narrow table. He put his arms to his side, as the technician explained and allowed him to loosely Velcro his hands and torso to the bench.

“Stay as still as you can, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

As the technician fiddled with something out of Ryan’s vision, he said, “at least you’re not coughing. I had a patient who was sent in by her doctor for a terrible cough. She couldn’t quite control it, but there I was telling her – try not to cough. She thought I was nuts.”

“Did she cough?”

“Nope. But as soon as the test was over she had a fit.”

“What was wrong with her?”

“Hodgkin’s. The cough was from a mass on her lungs. But I’m sure your scan will be clean as a whistle. Okay,” the technician lightly banged on the metal. “We’re good to go. I’ll be in the other room. There are speakers. Call if you need us.”

Ryan heard the door slam shut and suddenly felt alone and cold. He heard the machine click on and the whir begin, as the table slid him into the donut. He closed his eyes, trying stop seeing the white all around him. He concentrated on his breathing, making sure it was even and steady. He tried to forget that his nose had an itch. That his foot had a twitch. He opened his eyes and studied the white enamel on the machine, but quickly closed them again as the whirring and turning of the machine started to make his head ache. He counted backwards from 100 and then counted forward until 200. He tried to list all the books he had read since moving to Newport and all the differences in his life pre-Newport and post-Newport, and in the midst of his compare and contrast, the machine clicked and pulled him out of the donut hole.

“All done.” The Technician helped Ryan sit up and get off the table. He pointed to the chair and said, “I’ll take you out to your mom. The escort service should be here shortly to take you back to the ER.”

Ryan found that Sandy, Kirsten and Seth were all eagerly waiting for him right outside the CT Scan room. He felt an immense sense of relief as he saw them, as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. He hadn’t realized it would mean so much to see them all eagerly waiting outside of the room with earnest expressions on their faces.

“How are you doing, Ryan?” asked Sandy. He came forward and gave him a quick hug. “Are you in pain? Was the test okay?”

“It wasn’t bad,” answered Ryan, “but I can think of a better way to spend my evening.

Kirsten laughed. “Well, how about tomorrow night we make it a family night? Sandy and I will come home early. We’ll bring in some dinner and movies.”

“Mom, I don’t think Ryan thinks spending the night with the ‘rents is that much of an improvement over a night in the ER or having a brain scan.”

Kirsten huffed, but she did it in such a melodramatic fashion that they all knew she was kidding. “So, let’s get back to the ER and find the doctor.” She looked around, trying to orient herself.

“The technician told me someone from the escort service is supposed to come bring us back.”

“Oh. Okay. So I guess we wait.”

She leaned against the wall, there was nowhere to sit, and she listened as Seth regaled Ryan with details of his school day. Details that Ryan had been too sick to hear before. She was glad that Ryan felt well enough to humor her son.

After ten minutes, she started to pace.

After fifteen she suggested they try and figure out their way back to the ER. Sandy vetoed the idea, saying that it was best to just go with the hospital protocol.

After twenty minutes, he went to seek someone out to find someone from the escort service.

After twenty five a middle-aged gentleman in the familiar uniform arrived to take them back to the ER.

They followed Ryan in his wheelchair, glad that they had waited for the escort, because the path was so convoluted they would have gotten lost in the bowels of the hospital and probably ended up on the geriatric floor. The room Ryan had used earlier was being used and there was no bed available, so Ryan was just left in an inconspicuous corner of the ER.

“This is absolutely unacceptable. I’m going to find someone.” Kirsten started to march over to the nurse’s station when she bumped into the portly Dr. Delaveris.

“Good, Mrs. Cohen, I was looking for you. Is Ryan back from his CT Scan?”

“I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming. We just came back, but Ryan finished the scan over an hour ago.” She led him back to her young charge. “They don’t have a bed for him now. I was just looking to find out if we could do something about it.”

“Well, let’s go check on Ryan. Perhaps, he’ll be well enough to send on his way.” The doctor went up to Ryan and studied the boy, causing Ryan to fidget under the intent stare. “You’re looking better,” Dr. Delaveris finally said. He pulled a pen light out of his shirt pocket and looked at Ryan’s eyes. “How does the head feel?”

“Better.”
“Good. Then the meds worked.” He flipped through Ryan’s chart, which he already had in his hand. “Standard meds for a migraine. It’s a good sign that it alleviated the pain. Let’s try and get those scan results, so we can send you on the way home.”

Kirsten drew in a sharp breath. She sincerely hoped this was just a bad migraine, but she had this nagging feeling that it could be worse. And then what? Do they contact Dawn? Notify his father and brother in jail? Would he want them to know? Would he want his friends from his old life around him? The thoughts tumbled over each other, until she forced herself to shake them free. She needed to stay positive for Ryan. She needed to stay focused on the moment.

She moved closer to Sandy and squeezed his hand. He responded in kind, and snaked his other hand to bring Seth just a little closer. She watched Seth inch just a little bit closer to Sandy while letting his other hand casually stay on the back of Ryan’s wheel chair. They stood there together, for what seemed like hours, waiting for the doctor to arrive.

Kirsten was stiff from keeping her body so still, when finally she saw Dr. Delaveris approach with the ER doctor. They walked together, heads bent over some papers, but they looked at ease. She felt herself expel a breath, hoping that it meant good news.

“Kirsten, Ryan, the CT Scan is clean,” Dr. Delaveris said.

“Thank G-d,” she whispered, while squeezing Sandy’s hand so hard she was sure that his fingers would lose feeling. “It shows nothing? There’s no bleed? Or tumor? This was just a migraine?”

“It appears to be so,” said Dr. Christy. “It’s hard to know with these things, but headaches are tricky. They can be brought on for so many reasons. And sometimes migraines run in the family. Right now, I suggest you all go home and get a good night’s sleep. Or whatever is left of the night. Keep in touch with Dr. Delaveris and I’m going to write down the name of a couple of clinics in the area that specialize in migraines. If this happens again, they can help Ryan learn how to cope.”

“This could happen again?” Ryan’s eyes grew wide like saucers. He just couldn’t imagine going through the pain again. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Not even the worse beatings he had suffered had been as bad as his experience this afternoon.

“And Ryan,” Dr. Delaveris admonished, “at sixteen, you’re still growing. You need to eat a balanced breakfast. Make sure to include lots of vitamins and minerals into your diet. Consider vitamin supplements. Eating healthy and drinking plenty of fluids should help ward off the headaches. Because I can’t rule out that this was brought on from a lack of nutrition and too much exertion.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then we’re going to draw up the papers and send you on the way. I’ll send a nurse over to take out your IV and then you can go get dressed. We’ll hopefully have you out of here in the next fifteen minutes.”

The doctors shook Sandy and Kirsten’s hand and patted Ryan’s shoulder, walking away, gratified that they had all dodged the bullet. No one wanted to see a young patient diagnosed with a potentially life threatening disease.

“So, Ryan. Do you think Nurse Amanda will come take out the needle?” Seth asked. “She was kind of hot.”

“I’m going to tell Summer you said that,” Ryan said with a smirk on his face. He felt weak, but relieved.

“Summer! Oh. I better call her and her dad and tell them the good news.”

Seth ran off, leaving Sandy and Kirsten alone with Ryan.

“We’re glad you’re okay, kid. You had us scared.”

“I know. But thanks, for you know. Caring and taking care of things.” Ryan cast his eyes down, intently studying the needle in his arm. “I’ve been to the ER more than once before and this is the first time, I didn’t feel alone.”

“Well, kid, you’re not alone anymore. You have us,” Sandy said, firmly clamping his hand down on Ryan’s shoulder.

FIN
(Though a short epilogue may follow)

Cheeky, rest up and don't do too much! Let LJ entertain you instead!

famous99 — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 04:18:46 GMT

Cheeky, I hope this update keeps you on the couch a few minutes longer... or at least keeps it tolerable. Wishing you a speedy recovery!

Title: Headache (Part IV of ?)
Rating: G
AN: I considered asking someone to beta this update for me, but I decided, I'd probably never post. So Forgive me. All mistakes are mine. And I'm sure there are plenty.

This was originally posted for the OCSFC #4. My sentence from [info]helen_c - Ryan has a headache; someone offers some TLC.

Previous update can be read here.

The doctor arrived as soon as Ryan finished changing into a hospital gown with the help of Nurse Amanda. While the doctor tried to interview Ryan, the nurse started and IV. Kirsten was surprised to notice that Ryan really didn’t like needles. He couldn’t take his eye off the tray the nurse was preparing, even though the doctor was trying to get Ryan to gauge his pain level. Nurse Amanda patted Ryan’s head right before she tied the rubber tubing around his arm.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’m a pro at this.”

But Ryan didn’t look assured. The doctor gave the interview up for a moment and turned his attention to Sandy and Kirsten. He told them that Dr. Delaveris had called and was on the way. That he would be in contact with him, but that it was best to care for Ryan while they waited.

“In the meanwhile, I’m going to start by hydrating Ryan with saline.”

“What about any medicine to alleviate the headache?” Sandy asked.

“We’ll give something for that too, but I’d like to first finish my interview and examination so I can determine the best course of treatment.”

“There, doll. All done,” the nurse softly cut in. Kirsten thought she detected a hint of a British accent. “See, I bet it didn’t hurt at all.”

“Only because the head hurts worse,” he muttered.

Nurse Amanda laughed and patted Ryan again. “You’ll be fine, dear.”

Dr. Christy thanked the nurse and turned his attention back to Ryan. “On a scale of 1 to 10 how bad is the pain?”

Ryan held his arm straight and rigid, afraid the needle would move the wrong way. “Off the charts,” he said through gritted teeth.

Kirsten detected a bit of a snide tone in his answer and was starting to think that maybe Ryan was getting a little better if his belligerent side was starting to emerge.

“And when did it start?”

Ryan repeated the story he had told the nurse at school, Kirsten, and then to Dr. Delaveris. His face showed his displeasure at having to repeat it again, but he kept the snotty tone down to a minimum. Ryan was looking at the doctor when he first started recounting the day’s events, but about halfway through Kirsten saw Ryan close his eyes. Not to go to sleep. She could plainly see that the lights were bothering him again. But Ryan answered all the questions. What had he eaten? How much did he drink today? How much weight was he lifting and what was his norm?

The doctor then proceeded to examine Ryan. He looked at the boy’s throat and ears. He felt his neck and abdomen. He waved a small light in the eye, but Ryan was visibly bothered by it. Then Dr. Christy jotted some notes on a pad. “I’m going to prescribe a mix of Toradol and Reglan intravenously. It’s been known to work with migraines. I’m also going to order a CT scan. My gut tells me this is just a really bad migraine. I understand that you’ve never had this before, but we don’t know all that much about headaches, though we do know some of the triggers.”

“What are those, doctor?” Sandy asked.

He had returned to the curtained off area while the doctor had examined Ryan. When Kirsten had seen the amount of space they had in the little cubicle, she had insisted Seth sit in the waiting area. Their son had not been at all pleased with being banished, so Sandy had walked him to the chairs assuring him the whole time they’d update him regularly.

“Some of the triggers can be a change of sleep pattern, foods, or stress. My concerns are the sudden onset of this headache, the intensity, and the length of time this headache is lasting. So I’m going to put you through some annoying tests, just so I can send you home and tell you, you have a migraine. And while we wait for the machine to be free, I’m going to put you in a dark quiet room, Ryan.”

“Doctor, what are some of the possibilities you’re thinking about?” Sandy’s voice came out thin and raspy. Suddenly, he was rattled by the doctor’s assertion that it was probably just a migraine. If it was just a migraine, why weren’t they medicating the kid and sending him home?

Dr. Christy’s gaze flitted to Ryan and back to Sandy and Kirsten. It was as if he was assessing if Ryan was old enough to hear the whole truth or if the doctor needed to take the concerned parents out for a private conversation.

“It could be there’s a bleed in the brain, or a tumor pressing and causing the pain. It could be a burst aneurism. But these are all far fetched. I don’t want to needlessly worry you. Think of this as a CYA moment or doctors ordering unnecessary tests so they’re not sued for malpractice later on.”

“You are not reassuring us,” Sandy said through gritted teeth.

“And you’re definitely not making me feel any better.” Ryan shifted uncomfortably in the narrow bed. “When do I get the drugs?”

“The saline has arrived,” chirped Nurse Amanda. She nudged the doctor aside so she could get at Ryan’s IV. Nurse Amanda hung a bag of clear liquid and connected it to the needle in Ryan’s arm.

“If you could please get Ryan some Toradol and Reglan.” He handed the nurse a sheet of paper. “I wrote up the orders here. And I’d like some bloods drawn. It’s all on the paperwork.”

“Right away, doctor.” One more time she patted Ryan on the head. “I told you, we’ll be fixing you up in no time.”

The nurse had returned unusually fast. Kirsten suspected the young nurse found Ryan easy on the eyes and was enjoying his brusque and bad-mannered behavior. As soon as the drugs were hooked up, Nurse Amanda was pushing Ryan into a small room that had no windows, no lights, and a door that could shut out most of the noise in the busy ER.

“What if he needs us?” Kirsten asked worriedly.

“That’s what this is for.” The Nurse held out a thick long grey chord that was topped with a grey plastic piece and red button in its center. “Keep it at your side. Just buzz us for whatever you need. Mom,” she looked pointedly at Kirsten. “It’s best if you let Ryan rest. Let’s give him 15 minutes or so. If he’s feeling better, I’ll put a chair by his side.

She’d nodded. What choice did she have? Throwing a loud fit would just embarrass Ryan and in his state probably cause him more pain. So she followed Nurse Amanda out of the room and stood guard right outside the door while Ryan rested. Thirty seconds later, the amount of time it took Sandy to peck her on the cheek and to tell her he was going to update Seth, Kirsten started to pace. She walked back and forth the length of the hall, stopping each time she passed the door to make sure Ryan wasn’t calling for someone.

Ryan was relieved to be alone. He was glad the pretty nurse insisted that Kirsten leave him alone. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her care. He did. The only one who had every cared for him like that was Trey. The problem was that Kirsten was just like Seth. She wore her emotions on her sleeve. She tried to hide her apprehension, but it was there, plainly written across her face.

And Ryan just wanted the pain to go away. He didn’t want to think about all the worrying possibilities that the doctor had suggested. Though it figured with the Atwood luck, just as he was getting his life together, just as things were good for him, just as he had people who genuinely cared for him, he would he get sick with some sort of deadly illness.

Sighing, Ryan closed his eyes and tried to block out the muffled hospital sounds, the thudding in his head, and the perturbing thoughts that crowded his thoughts. The doctor hadn’t said how long it took the drugs to take affect, but he was hoping it would be soon.

Seth found Kirsten ten minutes later with her ear pressed to a door.

“I knew it! I knew you listened into Ryan and me when we’re having our Seth-Ryan Time. You know, Mom, that’s just plain wrong.”

Kirsten started at Seth’s voice. She hadn’t seen him walking down the hall and the noise took her by surprise. She suppressed a smile, but was secretly glad that Seth had come to keep her company. She was tired of the same hall, and looking at her wristwatch only to see it hadn’t moved a smidge. Seth would distract her.

“Where’s your dad?”

“He went to get some coffee and snacks. He said he’d bring for all of us.” Seth looked glanced at the door. “How is he?”

Kirsten shook her head. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to let him rest. They’re hoping a dark quiet room and the medicine will alleviate the headache.”

“Dad said that they’re going to do a CT Scan. That the headache could be from a tumor or something else.”

“They’re just dotting there i’s and crossing their t’s.” She patted her son’s arm.

“It’s scary.”

“I know. It is. But have faith. We need to put a brave face for Ryan.”

Seth breathed deeply. He knew his mom was right. But he really wanted to see Ryan. The guy had changed his entire life and he just wanted to be there for him. Even if it meant being quiet and keeping his mouth shut.

At that moment Nurse Amanda came down the hall. “How’s our patient?”

“I don’t know.” Kirsten couldn’t hide her exasperated voice. “You wouldn’t let me stay with him.”

“Then we better go and see for ourselves. He’s probably sleeping. Headaches can really tire out a person.”

Seth followed his mom and the nurse inside the dark room. It was dark, the only light coming in from the hallway.

“Ryan, doll, how are you feeling?” The nurse prodded.

“So so.” His voice was groggy as if they had just woken him from a nap.

“Well, that’s certainly better than before. How’s the pain?”

Ryan paused, considering the question. “A little better,” he finally offered.

“Good. You see, I told you we’d fix you up in no time. Your mom and brother would like to stay by your side. Is that okay?”

“Only if you make Seth promise not to talk.”

Nurse Amanda smirked. “Of course.” She pushed two chairs closer to the bed and then turned to Seth. “You heard Ryan. Absolutely no talking.” She wagged a finger at him. “If you’re naughty, you’ll answer to me.”

“Swear on dad’s eyebrows,” Seth whispered. “No more talking.” He pursed his lip and pantomimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. He took one of the chairs and held onto the side-rail on Ryan’s bed. When Kirsten sat down next to him, Seth put his other hand in hers. Somehow, they’d make this okay for Ryan.

The Headache PT III

famous99 — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 22:04:55 GMT

Title: Headache (Part III of ?)
Rating: G
AN: I considered asking someone to beta this update for me, but I decided, I'd probably never post. So Forgive me. All mistakes are mine. And I'm sure there are plenty.

This was originally posted for the OCSFC #4. My sentence from helen_c - Ryan has a headache; someone offers some TLC.

Previous update can be read here.

While Sandy drove at breakneck speed, Kirsten used her phone to get in touch with Dr. Delaveris. She was impatient with the woman from the service who was taking her time taking down the information they needed. She had barely finished on the phone by the time they reached the emergency room, and of course the doctor hadn’t returned their call yet. Kirsten wondered if they should have delayed going to the ER and instead waited for the doctor’s instruction. But one glance over her shoulder; at Seth’s ashen complexion, and Ryan who looked like he was biting down so hard his tongue might come off, she knew they were doing the right thing.

Kirsten led Ryan to a seat in the ER, with Seth at Ryan’s other side. In the meanwhile, Sandy went to talk to the woman at the desk. She was clad in regulation hospital scrubs, with dark black lipstick and skin whiter than Ryan’s unusually pale complexion. She was chewing a wad of gum, and without interest in Sandy’s plight, pushed a clipboard at him.

“You need to fill out this paperwork.” She snapped her bubble gum. “A triage nurse will be with you in a minute.”

Sandy started to object, but the girl just turned to the next person on line, an elderly man holding a bandaged hand with blood seeping through. With a sigh, Sandy turned back where Kirsten and the kids were sitting clutching the clipboard in his hand.

“Did the doctor call yet?” Sandy asked, as he approached his family sitting in a corner of the waiting room. It was packed with people and there was sniffling and sneezing and crying and moaning. It had been a long time since he had been in an emergency room and he wanted Ryan out and back home as soon as possible.

“No, he didn’t,” answered Kirsten. “I’m sure he’ll call in a moment. We have to wait for a triage nurse?”

Sandy nodded.

“I was afraid of this. I’m not going to wait more than fifteen minutes. Then I start calling in favors.”

Sandy recognized the determined edge in Kirsten’s voice and didn’t dare to argue. Even though he despised throwing around the Nichol name, if it meant quicker medical attention for Ryan, he’d do it. The kid looked like he was beside himself with pain. And Sandy had read his file. He knew that Ryan and pain were synonymous. He wasn’t a kid that allowed the hurt to get the better of him. For Ryan to openly show he was hurting– it must be bad.

Kirsten was dialing Dr. Delaveris’s number again when they were called to the triage room. Sandy had filled out the form with the pertinent information: insurance, social security number, and as much medical history that he could fill in. He firmly gripped the clipboard in one hand and with the other, guided Ryan by his elbow. Seth silently walked alongside Ryan, holding up his best friend. Suddenly, Seth’s extended silence was freaking Sandy out more than Ryan’s inability to mask his pain.

Kirsten trailed along behind him, politely, but sternly telling the service that it was imperative that the doctor call immediately. That she had been at his office earlier that day and in touch before office hours ended and that he had promised he’d be available if the situation worsened.

“Well, the situation has worsened,” Kirsten hissed into the phone, trying not to call too much attention to her family. “We’re in the ER and I need his assistance.” She slammed the phone shut and turned her attention back to Ryan.

He was slumped in a chair next to the nurse’s desk. A cuff was squeezing his arm, measuring his blood pressure and there was already a thermometer sticking out from under his tongue. The nurse was reviewing his age, name and symptoms.

“How long have you had this headache?”

Ryan tried to talk, but couldn’t with the thermometer in his mouth.

“Over six hours,” Kirsten said, glancing at her watch. She made a quick calculation. The nurse had called around 1 p.m. and he’d already been in her office for some time. “How’s his blood pressure?”

“Normal,” the nurse answered.

“Oh. Good,” Kirsten breathed. “It was slightly elevated this afternoon in the doctor’s office.”

The nurse scribbled something on his chart, just as Kirsten’s phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered it anyway. “Oh, Dr. Delaveris!” She expelled a deep long breathe, as if she’d been holding it while waiting for him to call. “We’re with the triage nurse right now.”

The nurse paid no attention to Kirsten, but continued her examination. When she was certain she had all the facts, she said, “You’ll need to wait out in the waiting room and one of the doctors will come get you as soon as they can.”

Glancing at a perfectly coiffed Kirsten, in her silk navy pantsuit and flawless make-up, the nurse couldn’t help noticing how unsure of herself the mother looked. Somehow, the emergency room equalized people from all walks of life. No mother, whether rich or poor, powerful or meek in their day to day business was impervious to being afraid for their child.

Seth glanced at his mother. She had seemed hopeful when the doctor called, even a little relieved. Suddenly, he saw her face darken and he imagined the doctor was not giving her good news.

“It will take you how long to get here? No. No. I understand, Dr. Delaveris. I’m sorry to take you away from your family at this hour. But on your way to the emergency room, can you be in touch with someone here to expedite his waiting time? He’s in so much pain.” She waited a beat. “Thank you. We appreciate everything you’ve done so far.” Kirsten closed the phone and turned to the family, planting a false cheery smile. “Dr. D. will be here soon. He was in Santa Monica with his son. Some school competition. It will take at least an hour for him to arrive.” She walked up to Ryan to offer a reassuring squeeze. He’ll be in touch with one of the ER docs to try and expedite things.”

Seth felt a sudden jolt as he listened to his mother. It was like when you felt the jerk of the car’s transmission switching gears. He felt a click, a switch in his brain and finally, Seth knew what he was could do. While his mom and dad led Ryan back to the waiting area, with the nurse’s reassurance that someone would be with Ryan “as soon as possible,” he walked to a corner and dialed Summer.

“Hi Summer.”

“Seth,” she complained. “I told you I had to spend time with my dad tonight. We practically spent all afternoon together.”

“I know. I know,” he said hastily. He sensed she was going to hang up on him. “This is important and I was hoping your dad could help. You know how my mom told me to stay out because Ryan wasn’t feeling well?”

“Yeah.”

He could hear Summer impatiently tapping her foot on the end of the phone line. “Well, by the time I got home, Ryan was doubled over in pain. It was bad. And we brought him to the emergency room.”

“Oh!” With that one word, Seth knew he had her full attention.

“Our family doctor is on the way, but he’s in Santa Monica and about an hour away. And Ryan doesn’t look so hot and my parents look really nervous. I was just thinking, maybe your dad could make a couple of calls and speed things along. He works at Hoag. Maybe he knows someone.”

“Hold on, Seth. I’ll ask him right now.”

He could hear Summer quietly conversing while probably holding the phone in her hand. Then Dr. Roberts came on the phone.

“Seth, this is Dr. Roberts. Summer told me your friend Ryan is in the ER. Has he been seen yet?”

“By a triage nurse. But now we have to wait for a doctor. Mom’s been in touch with Dr. Delaveris. Ryan saw him earlier today. But he was in Santa Monica when mom called and it’s going to be at least an hour before he can get here.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“A really bad headache. But I’ve never seen anyone get a headache like this. He’s white as a ghost. And I heard Mom tell Dad that he was throwing up and didn’t keep anything down.”

“Then he needs some fluids right away and something to ease the pain. Okay,” said Dr. Roberts. “Hang tight, Seth. I’m pretty sure I know who the attending is tonight and I’ll see if they can take Ryan in right away.”

“Thanks, Dr. Roberts.”

“You’re welcome. Do you want to talk to Summer again.”

“I do. But I should really sit with Ryan. For moral support. Can you tell her I’ll call her later to keep her posted?”

“I will.”

Seth thought he could hear the doctor smile on the other end. He hung up the phone and walked back to where his parents and Ryan were sitting.

“Seth! Where were you? Don’t just leave.”

“Sorry, Mom. But I had to call Summer.”

“Summer? Summer? Seth, this is not time to chat it up with your girlfriend.” Kirsten’s nostrils flared as she angrily glared at her son. Sandy put a hand over hers, hoping the reassuring gesture would lower her blood pressure.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I thought that Dr. Roberts might know someone here that could get Ryan in with a doctor faster. I thought maybe with Dr. D calling on one end and Dr. Roberts calling on another end, they’d realize that they were dealing with someone important.”

Kirsten breathed deeply, already regretting her burst of anger. “I’m sorry. That was a thoughtful thing to do. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Seth smiled sheepishly. “It’s okay. We’re all on edge.” He turned to Ryan. “I have your back, buddy. Remember, together we’re unstoppable, but apart people get shot.”

“Ryan Atwood?” A young nurse with short red hair came out came out from a curtained area holding a clipboard.

Kirsten jumped up from her seat and waved her arm to show they had heard. The nurse walked towards them as Ryan shakily stood up with Sandy at his side.

“My name is Amanda. The doctor will be with you in a minute. He’s just looking at your chart. I’m going to help you change into a gown so the doctors can examine you more easily and I’m also going to start an IV. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

Headache PT II

famous99 — Sun, 27 Jul 2008 23:48:10 GMT

Title: Headache (Part II of ?)
Rating: G
AN: I considered asking someone to beta this update for me, but I decided, I'd probably never post. So Forgive me. All mistakes are mine. And I'm sure there are plenty.

This was originally posted for the OCSFC #4. My sentence from helen_c - Ryan has a headache; someone offers some TLC.

Previous update can be read here.

Dedicated to chazper and cheekymice who need a speedy recovery... as does Ryan.

Kirsten couldn’t help hovering near the doorway of the living room, surreptitiously peeking in on Ryan and keeping him in her line of vision. He had made it abundantly clear that he did not want her to fuss over him and since she had won the argument about where he would rest, the couch or Seth’s room, she was trying to honor his wishes. But the doctor’s words kept niggling at the back of her mind, popping into her thoughts like an annoying fly. So she kept going up to the doorway and looking in just far enough so she could see him but that he wouldn’t see her.

He looked pale and tired as he languished on the couch. His eyes were closed and though he clutched the remote in his hand, the television was off. Of all the thoughts that had weighed on Kirsten’s mind when they first took Ryan in: would he stay out of trouble? Would he fit into school? Could she give him the love and affection he so deserved? Could she make him feel safe? It had never occurred to her that he might one day get sick. Not the flu or common cold sort of sick that all kids, teens and adults had to contend with, but the real kind of sick. The ones that had you scurrying from doctor to doctor and calling in every favor you possibly could have and owing a few more, so that you can get the best medical attention. No, Kirsten had never imagined that one day Ryan might become that sort of sick.

When she saw the steam rising from the pot and the clear yellow broth boiling, Kirsten shut off the fire and ladled some of Rosa’s chicken soup into a bowl. She put the bowl on a tray, with a bottle of water and a slice of toasted whole-grain bread and brought it to Ryan. She knew he was in no hurry to eat, but Kirsten sat across from him, shooting her own dirty looks until he complied.

“It’s what the doctor ordered,” she reminded him as he reluctantly slurped the broth from his spoon. It will give you some nourishment, but it isn’t too heavy.” She pointed to the water and the assorted juices that she had left on the coffee table when they first came in. “Don’t forget to drink.”

“I know you have a lot of work,” Ryan said, wincing, alerting Kirsten that he was still in a lot of pain. “You don’t have to watch over me all day and play nurse.”

“I’m not playing nurse,” she huffed. “I’m playing mom. That’s what I do.”

He looked away from her, down at his soup, concentrating on the yellow liquid. “I just don’t mean to be any trouble.”

“Get that out of your head. And while you’re at it, see if you can chase that headache out of your head.” She smiled at him, hoping that he saw the intended humor, even though inside her stomach was in knots. She saw him try to smile and for a brief moment, Kirsten was able to ignore the wan expression on the teenager’s face and she thought to herself that maybe everything would be all right.

Ryan didn’t see or hear Kirsten get on the phone. The first phone call was to the doctor. She wondered if there was anything stronger than Tylenol he could prescribe. Upon hearing that Ryan was still in a lot of pain, though the symptoms had not worsened, the doctor agreed to call in a prescription to the pharmacy.

“It’s a standard drug for migraine patients. It should alleviate the symptoms. But Mrs. Cohen,” warned the doctor. “Severe migraines can last for a week. And if you can, find out if he knows if there’s a history of migraines in his family.”

The second call was to Sandy. She thought he needed to be home early tonight.

~~~~

“I came as soon as I could,” Sandy said, putting his briefcase on the counter. He took a white paper bag from inside his briefcase. “Here’s the prescription the doctor called in.” Sandy peered into the living room where Ryan was still lying on the couch. The boy’s face was pale and his eyes were closed. The room was darker than usual, and Sandy noticed that the drapes were drawn. They hardly ever pulled the drapes.

“He asked me if there was a way to make the room darker,” Kirsten explained. “The light was bothering him.”

“I see why you were so worried. Did he eat at all? Did he drink?”

Kirsten nodded. “But he threw it up.” She tried not to cringe at the memory. She had been about to leave Ryan’s side, because she knew he hated her hovering when suddenly he made a retching sound. Ryan tried to sit up, but the sudden motion must have made him dizzier and he leaned forward covering his mouth.

Kirsten grabbed the first thing she could find, a crystal bowl with decorative fruit made out of fabric. With one hand, she held the bowl under him and with the other hand she gently rubbed his back in circular motions. It used to calm Seth when he was little.

After a few minutes, Ryan shifted positions, letting Kirsten know that he had finished and no longer needed to throw up. She put the bowl aside and gave him a bottle of water.

“I’ll bring you a wet cloth to wash up.”

That had been ten minutes ago. Ryan still wouldn’t look at her. She wanted to believe that it was because he couldn’t keep his eyes open and the light was bothering him, but the way he held his body, his back towards her, his face hidden, let her know that he was embarrassed by the whole episode. She was at a loss – she never had to try so hard with Seth. Somehow, she had thought just as the nurturing had come instinctively when Ryan got sick, so to would Ryan respond as if this was all natural.

Sandy squeezed his wife’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. I’m going to try and get him to take one of these pills. I wish the doctor had prescribed this right away.”

“What’s done is done,” said Kirsten.

Sandy nodded, knowing his wife was right. He took the bottle of pills and was about to step into the next room when he started to look around, scrunching up his thick brows. He peered into the room and strained his ears towards the stairs before finally asking, “Where’s Seth?”

“By some miracle,” said Kirsten, “Summer dragged him to the mall. When he called I suggested he stay out as long as possible because Ryan wasn’t feeling well. I don’t think Ryan could handle Seth’s TLC right now.”

Sandy laughed. “I knew I married a genius.” He lightly kissed Kirsten on the lips and with a sigh, and said, “Let me get the kid his drugs.”

The sight of Ryan clutching at a thin sheet with his eyes closed, and curled into a fetal position made Sandy’s heart crack into a bunch of little pieces. He wondered how often Ryan had suffered like this before and if anyone had been there to take care of him?

“Hey, Ryan,” Sandy called softly. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Ryan. Kid. The doctor called in a prescription for that headache. I want you to take it. It should make you feel better.” He resisted shaking the boy, because Kirsten had said that the slightest motion made him grimace. But Ryan was lying so still that Sandy was having a hard time not shaking him. He leaned in closely, relieved to hear regular breath sounds. He was probably sleeping. That was a good thing. If he could sleep then the pain was manageable. He’d wait on the medicine.

Just as Sandy was about to retreat into the kitchen, Ryan stirred. The boy looked at Sandy through squinted eyes and waved. Sandy saw he was trying to put on a brave front. It wasn’t working.

“I take it the head still hurts.”

“Like a bulldozer going wild inside my head.” Ryan’s voice was scratchy, hoarse and unused.

“I have doctor sanctioned drugs.” Sandy held up the pill bottle and shook it. The tiny sound, like a baby’s rattle, made Ryan cringe. “Sorry about that.” He opened the bottle and fished out a pill with his fingers, rather than turning it over. He hoped to avoid any unnecessary noise. “Here.” He handed the pill to Ryan and poured a glass of water. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to keep this down.”

“Thanks Sandy. I’m sorry I’m being so much trouble.”

“This is not trouble. I just want you to get well. Just work on that, okay? Try to drink and keep yourself hydrated.”

“I’m trying,” Ryan whined. “It just doesn’t stay down.”

“I heard, kid.” He rubbed Ryan’s arm. “If it doesn’t get better soon, then we’ll go back to the doctor. Hopefully, this will work.”

But the migraine medicine didn’t work. By the time Seth came home from the mall two hours later, Ryan was holding his head between his hands, bent over so that his nose was practically between his knees. He was shaking so hard from the pain, that Seth, who was normally ready with a flippant remark, turned in his tracks, ran to his parents and cried, “Something’s really wrong with Ryan!”

Sandy, who had been looking up information on the computer for a case he was trying the next day, jumped from his seat and ran into the next room. As soon as he caught sight of Ryan, he called out to Kirsten, “Honey, get the car. We need to go to the emergency room.” Within seconds, Kirsten came into the room and was right next to Ryan, helping him up from the couch.

“I’ll be fine,” Ryan tried to argue. But his voice was hoarse and tight. It was obvious that he was far from fine.

“No arguments,” Kirsten whispered. “You have to trust Sandy and I to do what’s best for you.”

TBC

Attention Heroes Fans

famous99 — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 20:39:59 GMT

The online comic that was posted on NBC's site was made into a graphic novel.
I want to read it.

Those short stubby little library pencils

famous99 — Fri, 12 Oct 2007 00:32:04 GMT

Have you ever been to the library and realized you didn't have a pen or pencil with you? So you go up to the librarian's desk and he/she gives you one of those short little pencils. ever wonder where they came from? Why they're short?
Nope?
Me neither.
But someone did.

OCSFC 4

famous99 — Sun, 16 Sep 2007 17:19:24 GMT

Title: Headache (Part I of ?)
Rating: G
AN: I hate to miss deadlines or to disappoint so... I'm posting this unbeta-ed. Forgive me. All mistakes are mine. Also, this got away from me. 15 pages in and I decided to post, do some housework and finish this at another time.

Thanks to ctoan for coordinating this once again!

My sentence from helen_c was - Ryan has a headache; someone offers some TLC.

The main house was buzzing with activity when Ryan entered the kitchen early Monday morning. Sandy was huddled in a corner with the phone pressed to his ear. He was “uh humming” a lot, taking copious notes as the person on the other end prattled on. Kirsten was sitting by the kitchen table with a set of blue prints spread out in front of her, leaving no room for anyone else. She bowed her head in concentration, biting on the end of the pen as she followed the architect’s drawing and notations with her finger. Seth seemed not to notice that both his parents were deep in concentration, and he chattered on between bites of his Captain Crunch cereal. It didn’t seem to bother him that no one was listening.

Ryan’s eyes cautiously flitted around the room, wondering if there was the time to bother either of his guardians. The coach had been on him about getting a doctor’s physical exam so he could play on the team. He’d given Ryan some leeway about the school’s policy because he was new in town and new to Harbor, but the coach had said Ryan couldn’t play in the upcoming game if he didn’t have the form in his hand before the weekend.

Ryan wasn’t very fond of doctors and didn’t relish the idea of visiting with one, but despite his bumpy start, he was starting to enjoy being part of a team. He had even started to make a few friends outside of Seth and Marissa and he liked the feeling of belonging. He also knew that the coach had not been kidding and would not coddle Ryan any longer, even if he was starting to emerge as one of the strongest players on the team.

Snatching the box of cereal from Seth’s hand and sliding into the tall stool by the island, Ryan tried to zone in on what Seth was saying. But Seth was going too fast and talking in too many circles to really make sense before his morning cup of coffee. Ryan sunk his hands into the cereal box and grabbed a fistful of the sugary food.

“Please use a bowl, Ryan.”

Kirsten’s directive startled him. He hadn’t thought she would notice, but apparently Seth was right, The Kirsten was omnipotent. She saw and heard everything that went on under her roof.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, getting out of his seat to find a clean bowl and spoon.

She looked up from what she was doing and smiled at him to show she wasn’t upset and that it was just a friendly reminder. “Did you sleep okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Thank you.” He eyed the coffee that was percolating in the machine and decided to start his morning with a caffeine-high rather than a sugar one. As he took down a mug and poured the hot drink he said, “Kirsten, the coach said I needed a doctor’s physical in order to play. If I don’t do it by the end of the week, I can’t be on the team anymore.”

“Did you get hurt?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

Ryan shook his head. “I’m fine. Coach said it was routine and that all players do it before the start of the school year.”

“That’s a relief.” She smiled at him. “For a minute, I thought you had gotten hurt and had forgotten to mention it. I’ll make you an appointment with Seth’s doctor this afternoon. Hopefully, we’ll get an appointment within the next day or two. I wouldn’t want you to have to give up your extra curricular activities.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess that’s something I should have known, but Seth never played on any teams and—“

“That’s okay. I knew about it for a while now. I was sort of trying to avoid the whole doctor thing,” Ryan grinned sheepishly.

“Oooh,” Seth interjected. “You don’t have to worry about Dr. Delaveris. Dr. D is cool. He gives out lollypops at the end of the visit.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryan said, “I’ll save mine for you.”

Seth grinned, delighted. “You do that, man.” He eyed his watch. “We better jet, or we’ll be late.”

Reluctantly, Ryan put down the bowl he was holding, but made sure to gulp down the coffee before he grabbed his school things. The hot drink burned going down the throat, but he knew without time for nourishment, the caffeine would be the only thing to get him through the hectic and intense Harbor day.

The coach spotted Ryan weaving his way through the crowds congregated on the quad and stopped him. He once again asked about the medical note again, barely hiding his irritation, and Ryan told him that Kirsten was making him an appointment later that day.

“Good. There’s a game Friday night and if I don’t have all my i’s dotted and t’s crossed, I can’t let you play. I think having you part of our team will be a real asset to us and I don’t want to lose you.”

He patted Ryan’s shoulder and smiled, opening his mouth to say something just as the bell rang. Instead the coach said, “You better get to class. See you at practice. I want to see you suited up and on the field at three thirty sharp!”

“Yes, sir,” Ryan answered automatically as he started to push his way through anxious freshman afraid of being late to their first period class.

The headache hit Ryan during fifth period PE. It came crashing through his skull like a runaway commuter train roaring through a dark tunnel knocking everything in its way. Ryan was in the weight room completing the weight regiment assigned by the soccer coach in lieu of the regular class, a privilege afforded to team members. The room was bustling and noisy with metal clanking upon metal. He tried to block out the pain by closing his eyes. Then he took some deep breathes, filling the air through his chest and up to his head and slowly letting it out, just like Ryan had seen on Kirsten’s yoga video.

The pain only grew in intensity and caused Ryan to drop the 20-pound weight he had been lifting. The thud of the weight was like a jackhammer drilling a hole in his skull.

“Atwood, you okay?” He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Mr. Bixler, the assistant coach who managed the weight room, was standing over him. “You look white as a ghost all of a sudden and your face is contorted in pain.” He scrutinized Ryan’s demeanor looking for signs of the trouble. ‘I’ve seen you lift a hell of a lot more than twenty pounds like it was no effort,” he explained. “Did the weight slip? Did it hit your toe? Are you okay?” Mr. Bixler repeated.

The sound of her voice added to the pain, as did the bright lights of the room when he opened his eyes to focus on the person in front of him.

“Not so good,” he admitted in a shaky voice.

“Ward.” Mr. Bixler turned and called the first student she spotted. “Help Atwood to the nurse’s office and make sure you make it back here before the bell rings. There’s a good twenty minutes left to the period.” He swiveled back to face Ryan. “Feel better,” he added in a concerned and almost paternal voice.

Luke grabbed Ryan’s elbow to guide him out of the room. He wasn’t fond of Atwood, but had to admit that the kid looked like death was at his heels. He thought about saying something, but decided that Ryan probably didn’t need any extra noise.

It felt like an eternity to get to the nurse’s office. Luke deposited Ryan in a chair and mumbled an explanation to Ms. Gordon before turning back to class.

“If I don’t see you by practice, I’ll explain things to coach,” Luke offered as a goodbye.

“Thanks man,” Ryan choked out in a hoarse voice. He put his head down, and the pain roared again, so he lifted his chin and closed his eyes.

The nurse sat down and asked Ryan what was the matter.

“It’s just a really bad headache,” he managed. “Can I have some Tylenol?”

The woman beside him sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to give that out. Do you want me to call home? Maybe someone can pick you up?”

He started to shake his head, but that just intensified the hurt. He couldn’t bother Kirsten or Sandy at work! “Can I just lie down here for a bit?”

“Of course. But Ryan, you really don’t look good. I think we should call someone.”

“Let’s wait a bit,” he pleaded and the woman agreed.

It was hard to get comfortable on the narrow cot that was in the corner of the office. The pain subsided a bit, but it still felt like the worst headache ever. It now felt like a sledge hammer pounding at both sides of his skull over and over again. He felt sick to his stomach.

Ms. Gordon had offered a warm compress for his head and she suggested that he keep it over his eyes. She also put a bottle of water next to his cot and urged him to drink it. “Sometimes it’s a simple case of dehydration.” But Ryan was worried that even a simple bottle of water would cause his stomach to revolt. He heard the bell ring signaling the end of fifth period and the next bell four minutes later that started sixth period. He jumped from the pain caused by the bell, which felt like it was rattling on the inside of his head, instead of just overhead.

As a result, he felt Ms. Gordon sticking a thermometer into his hear. It beeped a second later and she muttered something about no fever. She coaxed him to drink the now room temperature water and while the liquid felt good going down his throat, it did nothing to alleviate his headache.

When he reacted the same way to the bells at the end of sixth and the start of seventh period, he could hear Ms. Gordon shuffling over to the filing cabinet and pull something out. Each sound was intensified and caused Ryan pain.

Ryan, who had always tried to avoid the nurse’s office at his old school, was surprised at how busy a spot it was. Every few minutes girls came in asking for feminine products or complaining of cramps. A number of students wanted to be excused for PE for the day. One student had an allergy attack after lunch. He had a notation on his file so the nurse was allowed to administer Benadryl that his parents had left at the start of the school year. Another student came in, gasping for breath, clutching an inhaler, that wasn’t working. Ms. Gordon had been on the verge of calling the paramedics, when the attack subsided and the kid caught his breath again. A concerned parent came rushing in a moment later.

Ryan wished someone would come get him. He knew if he asked, Ms. Gordon would call either Kirsten or Sandy, but he just couldn’t imagine pulling them out of work for a little old headache. Even if was like no other headache he had ever experienced before.

When the nausea overtook him, and Ryan turned to his side hurling into the wastebasket nearby, the decision was taken out of his hand. Ms. Gordon was already armed with his emergency contact card and dialing the first number she saw. Ryan could hear her murmuring into the phone, the sound reverberating inside his head like she was speaking with megaphone right to his ear.

“Your foster mother is coming to pick you up,” Ms. Gordon whispered as she put another compress to his head. “I wish you had told me how bad this was. I would have called earlier.” She sighed. “Fifteen year-old-boys are way too stubborn for their own good.”

Fifteen minutes later, Kirsten bustled into the nurse’s room, her heels clicking on the linoleum floors. “Are you okay, Ryan?” She ran a hand over his forehead. “Did you take his temperature? Is he running a fever?”

Ryan groaned as Kirsten talked right into his ear.

“I’m sorry, honey. Are you okay?”

“Not really,” he admitted.

“He’s not running a fever, Mrs. Cohen. I checked about thirty minutes ago. But like I said on the phone, he’s been in a lot of pain and he vomited right before I called. I’m sure it’s nothing serious, but I would check it out.”

“Well, I already called Dr. D earlier today and had an appointment lined up for after practice, but I’m going to call again so that they squeeze us in as soon as we get there. Do you think you can manage to walk out of here on your own?”

He carefully swung his legs down onto the floor and with both hands forced himself up from a sitting position.

“I’ll be fine. But we should probably get my stuff.”

“Ms. Gordon, do you think you can get word to my son Seth Cohen and ask him to bring Ryan’s belongings home?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. That takes care of that. Let’s get going. This has me worried.” She rubbed Ryan’s arm, as she guided him out of the room. “Thank you again, Ms. Gordon. I appreciate your concern.”

They arrived at the bustling doctor’s office twenty minutes later. Kirsten kept shooting these looks at him that reminded Ryan of the day Sandy had brought him back from Chino a second time and announced that Dawn had abandoned Ryan. It was a mixture of pity and concern. This time, though, the concern seemed to outweigh the pity. Kirsten rubbed Ryan’s arms hoping to comfort him, and if asked he would admit that it did feel sort of good. Like she cared.

The sign on the door said that Dr. Delaveris and his associates were doctors of pediatrics and adolescent medicine, but the office looked like it was geared for little kids. The walls were painted with cartoon characters. The low coffee tables were scattered with Highlights, National Geographic Kids, and Spider Magazine. The toys were geared for the toddler crowd. That toy where you shifted the beads from one end to the other had a prominent place in the center of the waiting room. That had always frustrated Ryan when he was younger, as he wanted to take the beads off to play, but they didn’t go anywhere except for one end to another. Nothing about the office said, teenagers welcome. Yet Ryan sat in a small uncomfortable chair holding his head in his hands as Kirsten went up to the secretary to announce their presence.

A minute later, Ryan felt Kirsten sit down beside him. She immediately started to rub his back, her hand moving over his tee shirt in circular motion.

“I wish you had called me right when you started feeling ill.” She spoke softly. “I know your being part of our family is new to all of us, but you are part of us. I signed on to take care of you just like I take care of Seth. You don’t have to hesitate calling me out of work. You got that?”

He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed in his throat. “Yes,” he finally answered.

“Good. The doctor will see us as soon as he finishes with his patient.” She spent the rest of the time filling out his paperwork, asking him questions every so often. Like when did he have the chicken pox? (He was pretty sure he was eight – it was right after they moved to Chino.) “No food allergies, right?” she confirmed. “But what about to penicillin? Are you allergic to that? Or any other drug?” He answered and then she asked about broken bones.

“Lots, do I have to list them all now?”

“That’s okay, honey.” She patted his shoulder. “I’m sure we can do that later.” Inwardly, she cringed at the thought of the cause of all those broken bones.”

Unlike the clinics he had visited when he lived in Chino, they were swift and efficient in the doctor’s office. The medical assistant led them into a small room, handed him a gown, and told him to strip and put it on. When he had managed to cock his brow and tilt his head in a semi glare, she conceded by saying it was enough to take off his tee shirt.

Kirsten had turned her back as he changed, but she didn’t leave the room. He wondered if it would have been the same if this had been a simple sports’ physical. Ryan couldn’t imagine talking to the doctor about what recreational drugs he had used in the past, and how much alcohol he consumed in front of Kirsten. He imagined that there might be some personal questions, but he’d figure out a way to conserve some dignity while answering the doctor. Between the determined and concerned look on Kirsten’s face and the lecture he had received in the waiting room, Ryan knew she would not leave the examining room so easily and he didn’t have the energy to put up a good fight.

“How’s the head?” she whispered as he scooted onto the examining table.

“It hurts, but not like before.”

“Well, it’s a start.”

Time dragged in the small examining room. Ryan kept his eyes closed most of the time, but resisted lying down even when Kirsten suggested it. He didn’t want to admit how uncomfortable he still felt. Finally, the doctor, a tall, plump man with salt and pepper hair and a large handlebar mustache, came into the room. He was wearing a traditional white doctor’s coat with a stethoscope around his neck and a finger puppet sticking out of his pocket in middle of the pens and assorted tongue depressors stuck in there.

“Mrs. Cohen, it’s good to see you again.” He stuck out his hand for a handshake. He looked down at his chart. “And you are Ryan?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re here for a sports’ physical.”

“Well,” Kirsten interrupted before Ryan could speak for himself. “That’s why I originally called, but then Ryan’s school called that he was sick. The school nurse was concerned enough to say we should see a doctor immediately, so I asked to push up our appointment.”

“I see,” the doctor hummed, scanning the incomplete medical history. “What’s the matter, Ryan?”

“My head. It hurts. A lot.”

“Did you wake up with the headache?”

“No. It started while I was in the weight room.”

“Do you ever get headaches?”

“Sometimes. Not like this. I never had a headache like this.”

“Can you describe the pain?”

He swallowed, his throat felt scratchy and sore from not using it much. “It started like a jack hammer. Now it’s more like a sledge hammer going at both sides of my temples.”

“He also threw up in the nurse’s office,” Kirsten interjected. “The nurse said he came to see her about,” she glanced at her watch, “three hours ago.”

“That’s a long time for such an intense headache. Since you were in school, I imagine, they couldn’t give you any Tylenol or Advil.”

“Right,” Ryan agreed.

“What did you have for breakfast?”

“I had cereal and coffee,” he stretched the truth a bit.

“A handful of sugar cereal,” Kirsten corrected. “I know I was busy this morning, but don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t have time to eat.”

The doctor smiled. “What about lunch?”

“I didn’t have time today. I had to finish up an assignment in the library and I can’t eat there. Besides, today I have lunch right before PE and I don’t like to eat much before I exercise.”

The doctor sighed knowingly. “Did you drink anything besides the coffee?”

“Only the water the nurse gave me.”

“I see.” Ryan could feel the weight of disapproval in those two words. “How much coffee do you drink a day?” the doctor continued, pulling out the stethoscope from around his neck. Not waiting for an answer, he instructed Ryan to breathe deeply as he moved the cold metal piece from his chest to his back. “Caffeine intake?” The doctor reminded, as he listened to Ryan breathe.

“Um, I sometimes have two cups of coffee a day.”

“What about caffeinated soda?”

“It depends. One or two cups a day? Sometimes less sometimes more.” Ryan avoided Kirsten’s eyes. She was always telling him and Seth to drink water or juice rather than soda.

“Sounds good,” the man commented. “Not the soda and coffee intake. The breathing.” Dr. D then pulled out a blood pressure cuff and strapped it around Ryan’s arm. He squeezed the little black air puff at the end until Ryan thought his eyes would pop out of their sockets. “It’s a little on the high side. Ryan, is there a history of hypertension in your family? Do you smoke?”

“Hypertension? You mean high blood pressure? I don’t think so. And Sandy and Kirsten made me stop smoking when I moved in with them a few months back.”

“That’s very good.” The doctor chewed on his lip and tapped on his clipboard. “I’m inclined to say that this is a simple case of dehydration and that some liquids, food, Tylenol and rest will make this go away. I’m slightly concerned about the elevated blood pressure. I’m going to send you home.” He turned to Kirsten. “Give him Tylenol. Lots of liquids and some light food. Nothing too heavy since he threw up earlier today. If the pain doesn’t get better and of course if it gets any worse I want you to go straight to the emergency room and call me immediately. I’m on call today, so I can meet you there.”

“Okay,” Kirsten slowly agreed. “But what are your concerns?”

“The fact that this happened while Ryan was exercising and the fact that he barely ate or drank today, this is probably an exercise headache or dehydration… What’s keeping me cautious is how suddenly and severely the onset of this headache came and that Ryan’s blood pressure is slightly high. Severe headaches like the one Ryan’s experiencing are at times, but not often, an underlying cause for something more severe.”

“Like?” Kirsten prompted.

“Bleeding in the brain,” Dr. D offered cautiously. “I’m not trying to worry you. If I seriously thought this was the problem, I’d be checking Ryan into the hospital immediately. I don’t want to panic you.”

But Ryan could see the panic in Kirsten’s eyes. He felt like whatever little blood was left in his face had drained completely.

“Mrs. Cohen, I’ve known you since Seth was this high,” he held his hand at level with the examining table. “I’ve always been upfront and honest. I want us to be cautious but not alarmed, okay?”

“We’ll try.”

“In the meanwhile, much of Ryan’s medical history is incomplete. Let’s try to fill in as much of this as we can before the next visit. We need you better so I can complete that sports’ physical for you. What sport do you play?”

“Soccer.”

“What position?”

“Striker.”

The man smiled reassuringly. “By next week, we’ll have your form all filled out. For now, get some rest. Follow my instructions and next time we’re also going to review some healthy eating habits, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Get dressed and go home.” The doctor turned, but stopped suddenly. “I almost forgot. He dug into a pocket under his lab coat and pulled out two red lollipops. For being such a good patient.” He winked.

Kirsten followed the doctor out the door, leaving him alone to change. A few minutes later, she knocked and stuck her nose in the door asking if he was done. She led him out to the reception area, guiding him with her hand on the small of his back. The pain hadn’t subsided much and now he also felt the worry emanating from Kirsten at his side.

All About Family 6

famous99 — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 03:41:55 GMT

Title: All About Family
Rating: PG 13 (Rish in some chapters)
Summary: Ryan's Dad comes to Newport.
S4 with spoilers up to My Two Dads

Thank you to chazper for beta duties. She really made this chapter come together and many of the words are hers too! (The good ones usually.) But mistakes are all mine.
A reminder that I give credit to brandywine421's Hurting Ryan Fic for kick starting my muse all those months ago.

Julie was pulling the car out of her spot in the mall’s parking lot when she spotted Frank unlocking the door to a nondescript dark blue sedan. He seemed to be having trouble with the lock, as he was jiggling the key around, and then banging the top of the car in frustration when the door wouldn’t give. She slowly inched her car along, hoping to study Frank’s behavior unobtrusively. Anything that might give her a clue to Frank’s real motivation for coming to Newport to find Ryan.

“Mom? Mom? What’s with the snail’s pace?”

Julie started and slammed on the breaks. ‘So much for unobtrusive,’ she thought. “Kaitlin, you scared me,” she breathed.

Kaitlin quirked her brows. “You were totally zoned out. What’s the deal?” She looked around the lot, trying to spot someone familiar, but didn’t see anyone. There was no one worthy of Newpsie gossip. Just the drab assortment of shoppers lugging packages to their cars.

From the corner of her eye, Julie spotted Frank finally get into his car.

“I just have a lot on my mind. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” Kaitlin shrugged and slumped down into the front seat. Julie had changed after she and Jimmy had split up the first time and since Marissa’s death Julie had practically spiraled out of control. She didn’t expect Julie to ever be normal or regular again.

Relieved that Kaitlin didn’t press, Julie went back to concentrating on Frank. In her rearview mirror, she noticed him getting into his car and pulling out of his spot. She slowed down on impulse, letting him get ahead of her, and followed him out of the lot.

“Mom, you’re going the wrong way,” Kaitlin complained when Julie made a right turn at the intersection that usually put them back on the freeway.

“I have to run an errand in this direction.” Julie quickly covered.

Falling back into the plush leather seat, Kaitlin crossed her arms and stuck out her lower lip. “Couldn’t you have done that before picking me up? I wanted to hang out with my friends some more. You’re the one who insisted it was time to go.”

“What you wanted to do was light up another joint or make out again with Joe or Chris or whoever the flavor of the week is.” The words spilled out of Julie’s mouth before she could think about what she was saying or how they would damage her daughter. She caught Kaitlin’s horrified look from the corner of her eye, but she couldn’t be bothered to figure out how to assuage her moody teenager. It was too difficult following Frank’s nondescript car while keeping a few car lengths behind so they wouldn’t be spotted.

Yet, Marissa wouldn’t want her to push away Kaitlin in the name of saving Ryan.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I only remembered about ... this … errand as I was pulling out. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Ice cream?”

“Vermonty Python. Rocky Road. A banana split if you want!” Julie assured with a smile.

Kaitlin grinned. “Well then, you better concentrate on the road again. The car you’re following just made a right into that parking lot.”

Laughing sheepishly, Julie turned into a spot and put the car in park. She let the engine idle and waited to see what Frank would do next.

“Who is this guy, anyway?” Kaitlin asked, following Julie’s gaze. “He doesn’t look your type. He’s driving a low-rent car. His clothes aren’t….” She let her voice trail off when she realized Julie was chewing her lip in concentration and wasn’t willing to be distracted anymore.

Julie watched as Frank got of his car and approached a middle-aged man with a receding hairline. The stranger was unremarkable, wearing faded blue jeans and a dark blue polo shirt. He had a small gut that hung over his belt and skin too pale for someone who lived in Southern California. The man was leaning in to Frank and the two were in an obviously heated discussion. His hands were flailing in the air, emphasizing his points by practically jabbing Frank’s chest with his finger.

Julie couldn’t read their lips or hear what the conversation was about, but the stranger calmed down as Frank calmly responded to him without rising to the bait.

“Hey, Earth to Mom,” Kaitlin broke in. “Who is that guy?”

Letting herself look away for just a moment, Julie answered, “That’s Frank Atwood. He’s Ryan’s dad.”

~~~~~~

“So you see, Ryan, this whole smoking out Summer thing isn’t working out quite as I expected.” They had just pulled into the circular driveway in front of the Cohen’s house and Seth was climbing out of the front seat of Ryan’s jeep. He stopped at the hood of the car and faced his brother. “I don’t give her enough credit sometimes. She is after all, the one who scored higher than me on the SATs and —“

Ryan cut Seth off. “And she’s playing your game, but better than you.”

“Yes!” Seth slammed the flat of his hand on the hood of the car. “Yes, she’s doing it better than me.” Looking around surreptitiously to make sure they were alone, Seth leaned over the hood of the car so that he was closer to Ryan. “If I can’t figure something out soon,” he said in a hushed voice, “I’m going to have to inform the parents about the impending nuptials.” Seth scratched the back of his head. “I don’t think they’re going to be fans of the idea.”

“On the bright side, they might just be distracted enough by this morning to let this one go over their head.”

Seth shifted, so that most of his weight was on the hood of the car. “What do you mean? Because of your dad being back in town?”

Leaning his elbows on the car so he was facing Seth, Ryan shook his head. “No. But that’ll also keep them occupied for a little while. No, this morning — early this morning — Taylor followed me in the kitchen from the pool house. The Kirsten was definitely displeased.”

“It seems like when we were in high school the parents didn’t bat an eyelash about us taking girls into our room. You think we were just more stealth back in the day?”

Ryan shrugged. “Maybe. But the only thing I can think of that will get me out of the coming lecture is distracting them with news of seeing my dad.”

Seth chewed his lip and stared down at his hands thoughtfully. He slowly brought up his eyes to meet Ryan’s gaze. “So, um, how was that? Want to talk about it?”

Shifting from tired foot to tired foot, Ryan shrugged his shoulders. “It was weird. I don’t know what I was expecting. He didn’t do or say anything exactly. I just got weirded out and left.” He didn’t even know if it was Frank who made him uncomfortable or the turmoil he felt every time he thought about Marissa.

“How did Frank take it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t wait for his reaction. I just walked and walked and eventually found you in the comic book shop.”

Seth nodded his head, weighing Ryan’s words carefully. “I’m glad you found me.” He was about to say more, but the front door opened and Sandy came out.

“Oh. Good. Ryan you’re home.”

Seth swung around to face his father. “Hello Father. Good afternoon. How are you this good day?”

Sandy eyed Seth suspiciously and walked up to the car that was parked in front of Ryan’s jeep. He scrutinized the Range Rover, but seeing nothing, he asked, “What did you do?” He looked over the care more carefully. “It doesn’t look damaged.”

“Father, you wound me.” Seth’s hands flew up to his heart. “Can’t a son simply greet his father?”

Rolling his eyes, Sandy answered, “Seth, I know when you’re trying to hide something from me. But right now, I need to talk to Ryan. Alone,” His voice changed abruptly as he turned his attention to Ryan.

Wanting to get Sandy away quickly before Seth admitted to his engagement with Summer, Ryan came around from the driver’s side of his jeep to meet Sandy halfway. “Sure thing. Want to talk inside?” He sounded confident and self assured, but his stomach was in knots.

As he followed Sandy into the office, Ryan watched his foster father’s rigid walk. Sandy had come out of the house in a short and brusque manner. This wasn’t for a talk about future plans or a good natured probe about his dating life. Sandy was in a foul mood and he was about to take it out on Ryan.

“Sit down, Ryan.”

Ryan wanted to play the part of the belligerent teenager and refuse Sandy; to insist on taking his reprimand standing. Instead, he sat down in one the soft upholstered chairs across from Sandy’s executive brown leather chair. For a moment there was silence, as Sandy put his hands together and seemed to collect his thoughts.

“About this morning—“

“I know, Sandy. I’m sorry. It was disrespectful of me to have Taylor over and it won’t happen again.” Ryan was hoping to take the wind out of Sandy’s sails, but instead it seemed to bring on a gust of stormy weather instead.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking,” Sandy snapped. Even to Sandy’s own ears the words sounded terse and harsh, but it wasn’t the first time Ryan had heard him this way. He had used that tone often enough with Seth. And Ryan was his son too. Not Frank’s, he thought grimly. Ryan had to know that

“Sorry,” muttered Ryan and he bowed his head in contrition. He wasn’t ready for the torrent of words that sailed out of Sandy’s mouth.

“I know that Kirsten and I are no longer legally responsible for you, but we both feel a moral responsibility to you. We’re your family and for all intent and purpose your parents. Despite the fact that the world makes you out to be an adult at eighteen, you’re just a kid. I know what it was like at that age and frankly, watching both you and Seth, your behavior has confirmed both of you still have some growing up to do.”

Swallowing, Ryan nodded.

“It’s not only that you had a female guest in your room and then flaunted it in front of us. You did it when you were grounded.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t invite Taylor over. She just showed up in the pool house. I should have told her to leave…” Ryan tilted his head hoping to convey that knowing look between two guys. “It’s just hard to tell her to go when she gets like that.”

“That’s not an excuse, Ryan.”

“I know.”

“Next time, you better try harder.”

“Okay. I will.” Ryan wanted this to end.

“The grounding still stands.”

“Yeah. Okay. That’s fine.” It wasn’t. Ryan knew he would feel ridiculous explaining this to Taylor. Even if she had intimated the night before that it was sweet that Kirsten and Sandy still cared enough to ground him.

“You need to follow the rules, Ryan. I know you’ll be on your own next year. But Berkley will still have rules to follow. You’ll have a job and a boss. There are always rules. Family is a lot more forgiving than a boss or a girlfriend or a college. Am I getting my point across?”

“Yes. Yes. You are.”

“Good.”

Ryan waited for Sandy to ask him about meeting Frank, but he didn’t. Sandy just sat quietly not quite dismissing Ryan, but waiting for something. Waiting for Ryan to offer the details of his afternoon meet and greet? The only vibe he could pick up was of anger and suddenly, Ryan wondered if Sandy was angry at him or at Frank?

“I saw Frank,” he finally broke the silence. Sandy didn’t respond, but Ryan could see the desire in his eyes. Even so, he waited for Sandy to ask him how it was. To his surprise, Sandy didn’t take the bait. Ryan tapped the arm of his chair waiting for the leading questions, but they didn’t come. “Well, if there’s nothing else,” Ryan said, getting up. “I’ll be in my room until dinner.”

He walked out of the office with a backwards glance trying to mask how hurt he felt by Sandy’s silence. Maybe, Ryan thought, he was wrong. Maybe Sandy didn’t care that Frank was back after all.

Citrus Awards

famous99 — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 19:17:46 GMT

Just wanted to thank jenskyies and inevitablefict for coordinating this year's Citrus Awards.

And... Congrats to all you winners...

WIP Meme

famous99 — Fri, 03 Aug 2007 21:45:42 GMT

So I gakked this from mswalter and brandywiner421

When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.

From All About Family

He stopped at the hood of the car and faced his brother. “I don’t give her enough credit sometimes. She is after all, the one who scored higher than me on the SATs and —“

Ryan cut Seth off. “And she’s playing your game, but better than you.”

“Yes!” Seth slammed the flat of his hand on the hood of the car. “Yes. She’s doing it better than me.” Looking around surreptitiously to make sure they were alone, Seth leaned over the hood of the car so that he was closer to Ryan. “If I can’t figure something out soon,” he said in a hushed voice, “I’m going to have to inform the parents about the impending nuptials.” Seth scratched the back of his head. “I don’t think they’re going to be fans of the idea.”

“On the bright side, they might just be distracted enough by this morning to let this one go over their head.”

Seth shifted, so that most of his weight was on the hood of the car. “What do you mean? Because of your dad being back in town?”

Putting his elbows on the hood of the car, Ryan shook his head. “No. But that too. This morning Taylor followed me in the kitchen from the pool house. The Kirsten was definitely displeased.”

From Revelations:

Trey leaned against the black Range Rover, his legs crossed at the ankles, and tossed some loose change into the air. He was hot and sweaty, with large round wet spots under his armpits, a result of dragging and schlepping two years of his brother’s junk out of the dorm.

Gratefully, Trey accepted the cold soda Ryan offered. “You don’t pack light anymore.” He popped the top of the car and the cola made a hissing sound as the gas escaped from the opening.

“Thirsty much?” Ryan teased as he watched Trey greedily gulp down the soda.

“No.” Trey caught his breathe, tossing the empty can into a nearby trash can. “It’s just the closest thing I can use to get a high.”

Ryan lightly punched Trey in the arm.

“What?” Trey threw up his hands. “Now that I got me a little nephew to look out for, I need to set a good example.”

Ryan’s grin swallowed his face at the mention of J.T. “He’s a good kid.”

“For a brat.” At Ryan’s murderous expression, Trey burst out laughing. “He’s four. He’s a brat. I remember you at four. You were a brat too.”

“Thanks,” Ryan quipped. “But in my defense, it was my job as a younger brother. You know, being around you is just so heartwarming.”

They laughed together and Ryan realized it felt good to be around his brother. It gave him a little bit more sense of self when he was around people from his life before Newport. It somehow made him more able to reconcile the two parts of himself, Atwood and Cohen – Chino and Newport.

“Are you two slacking off again?” Seth ambled towards them, holding a large brown box in his arms. Ryan stood on his tiptoes, trying to peer inside, certain that if it was full and heavy, Seth wouldn’t be carrying it himself. “Really, now.” Seth turned to Summer, who was standing next to him, empty handed. “These Atwoods don’t know the meaning of manual labor.”

Trey tilted his head to the side and cocked his brow in a look that rivaled Ryan’s best “look.”

“What about you?” Trey jutted his chin out towards Summer. “You’re not carrying much.”

“For your information,” Summer patted her stomach, “I’m with child. It’s not safe for a woman in my condition to schlep.”

“Tell that to Pearl S. Buck and The Good Earth.”

They all stopped moving and stared at Trey.

“What?”

“You read the Good Earth?” Ryan asked incredulously.

Trey shrugged. “It was in the prison library. The librarian, Ms. Hendon suggested I read it. What, did you think I read comic books all day?”

“I wasn’t sure you read,” Summer muttered while Seth simultaneously shouted, “Hey. They’re graphic novels and some graphic novels are —“

But Ryan cut him off. “Don’t get started, Seth. We know they can be quite literary.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s finish this up. Theresa’s dropping J.T. off in a couple of hours.”

“Is it okay if I hang out with the two of you?” asked Trey, turning to Ryan and ignoring Seth and Summer behind them.

Ryan could see his brother was afraid of being shot down.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

They finished loading the rest of the stuff into the Rover and Summer’s car. Seth was going to drive back with his wife and Trey would ride back with Ryan. He figured the job of unloading would have to wait until J.T. was in bed. Ryan didn’t want to waste the short time he had with his son.

He and Theresa had finally started to iron out the details of a custody agreement. It was now in the hands of the lawyers, who needed to dot the i’s and cross the t’s. Instead of feeling relaxed and relieved that things were settling into a routine, Ryan felt his stomach was always on a roller coaster ride and his jaw was constantly tense. He was pretty sure he had started grinding his teeth at night. It was as if the reality of parenthood was finally hitting him full force.

“Arturo tells me that Theresa isn’t so happy with how things are working out.”

Ryan glanced at Trey, who had made himself comfortable in the passenger seat of the Rover. He had his heavy scuffed work boots on the dash, and he had leaned his seat back, so that he was in a semi-reclined position.

“She’s not?”

“I think she’s mad about having to share time with J.T.”

Ryan snorted. “You know, I really don’t give a damn. She had no right to lie to me all these years. I know she meant well, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Trey arched his brow. “Settle down, little brother. I’m on your side and so’s Arturo. They all know this day was coming and they all knew that you would have the weight of the Cohens behind you. And that’s not a bad thing. I see that. Arturo sees that. Theresa knows it, she just resents it some.” Trey put his feet down, so he could fiddle with the radio. He wanted something loud and with a beat. He could never take Ryan’s pansy taste in music. “What sort of agreement did you set up?”

The rest are bits from stories I never finished or posted. No titles, no clear idea where I was going. Probably just working out the misery that was S3.

This one is a missing scene of sorts I started from S3 – The Perfect Storm – where Ryan punches the Dean. It starts from Seth’s POV.

Seth’s mouth hangs open from atop the Ferris wheel as he watches the events below him unfold. He’s stuck, swinging back and forth, his stomach queasy, but it’s no longer from the dim sum or the last ride he was on. His stomach is rebelling because he sees what’s going to happen. He can feel it, but he has no way to stop it.

Summer is sitting beside him, her thigh pressing against his. He’s grateful for the comfort she’s offering. He’d never met the new dean, Mr. Hess, but Ryan had described the man. Pompous. Self absorbed. Slick. It’s obvious the man on the ground, who from his height, doesn’t look very tall, but has blonde hair and is wearing a poor choice of a light blue vest and pink tie, must be him. Also, Taylor’s self-satisfied expression as she stands behind him, arms crossed, chin jutted to the sky, reveals all.

Seth doesn’t think Summer realizes how events are going to develop. She doesn’t know Ryan like he does. She didn’t hear Ryan in the kitchen earlier that day declare that he had wanted to deck Mr. Hess.

Marissa holds up her hands. “Fine I’m leaving.”

“No,” Ryan shouts. He gets up from the car of the seat of the swaying Ferris wheel car. “No. You aren’t going anywhere. She worked on this carnival every year at Harbor.”

“Thanks for the trip down memory lane,” the Dean says. “But that’s not my problem. Now get out of here.” He grabs Marissa by the arm and pulls her towards the gate.

Seth’s stomach drops to his toes. Even in the dark, he can see Ryan’s muscles tense. Ryan takes a giant step forward as Marissa is being hastened off the carnival ground, swings Mr. Hess around and slugs the teacher.

Everything stops. Or so it seems. The chatter is at a standstill. The music takes on a surreal sound as if it was a damaged record or like a funhouse mirror. No one moves and to Seth it seems like Mr. Hess falls to the pavement in slow motion.

“Oh my G-d,” Summer cries beside him.

“This is not good,” Seth mutters. He watches Ryan’s horrified expression. They both know what is coming and here he is trapped, feet swinging a hundred feet up in the air.

“Here I thought I would have to work to throw you out of this school. But you did it yourself,” Mr. Hess says. “Get out of here. If either one of you ever set foot in this school again, I will call the police.”

Seth thinks Ryan looks as if the world has crashed in around him. Ryan hadn’t been in this much trouble since the Oliver debacle and at least then he’d been right. What would his dad say? He knew his parents wouldn’t kick Ryan out, though at the time of the Oliver debacle he had his doubts. But now Ryan was as much their son as he was, even if he was the less related one.

Its Ryan who breaks the stillness by brushing passed the dean and the crowds followed by Marissa. He stops just outside the chain linked fence and stares longingly at the student body of Harbor. Seth knows his brother isn’t regretting the friends he never had, but rather that Ryan is contemplating the lost opportunities that Harbor had offered.

“Ryan was provoked,” Seth tells Summer angrily as he watches him walk away. “That bastard down there goaded him into that punch.”

“Seth.” Summer puts a hand on Seth. His body is stiff and taut, as if his bones and muscles are ready to jump out of his skin.

She doesn’t know that for the first time ever, Seth feels like throwing a punch himself.

The Ferris wheel starts to move again, slowly creaking, the gears grinding, bringing them back down to the ground. When his feet touch the concrete the cacophony of voices resumes and the music is loud and brash, pulsating through the night air. Mr. Hess is off to the side, wiping the blood from his nose and talking to Taylor in hushed tones.

Seth stalks up to the dean. He can sense Summer trailing behind him. He just stands there staring at the self satisfied asshole that has just provoked Ryan into giving up his life. He doesn’t think about what he’s doing. He just lets his brain take over his body, common sense left somewhere atop the Ferris wheel. Seth lifts his foot and brings it down hard and fast on Jack Hess’s toes. The crunch feels good under Seth’s heel.

“Ouch,” the battered dean cries. He whirls around to see who the next person to assault “Who the hell are you?”

Seth freezes in his place. His eyes flit around, taking in his surroundings, but seeing it as if it were on fast forward. His dad would absolutely flip if both he and Ryan were thrown out of Harbor. But he won’t apologize. He will not pretend that he stomped on this man’s foot by accident.

“I asked who the hell you are.” demanded the dean.

Seth’s voice quavers. “Seth. Seth Cohen.”

Jack Hess’s eyes narrow. “Cohen? I know that name.”

Seth shrugs.

“Well watch where you’re going,” the man grouses.

Another Missing scene of sorts or what if from S3 – after Ryan doesn’t go to the lockin.

And another one from S3 – having to do with Sadie

He knew better than to put the music on too loud, because it seemed to draw Kirsten out of the kitchen and into the pool house to talk. But Ryan had a lot of pent up energy since he had started dating Sadie. The good kind. For a change, he was using the punching bag to let out his excitement, his happiness, his giddiness, instead of using it to release his frustration, anger, and general irritation with his life and Newport and well his drama of the day.

At least Kirsten waited for him to build up a good sweat before skulking around his door, waiting for him to notice her. His shoulders were already aching and his knuckles were starting to scrape, but he pretended not to see her. When the sweat started to drip in his eyes so the burned, he knew he would have to stop to wipe his face down and nod to Kirsten.

“Things okay with Sadie?” Kirsten asked as soon as he turned down the music and said hello.

“Yeah. Fine.” Real fine, he thought.

And this one that I labeled WIPs…

“Listen,” Sandy says as he spreads cream cheese on his bagel. “I’m going to see your mother in a few hours. Is there anything you want me to pass her along?” He glances at Ryan and then quickly to Seth, letting his gaze linger on his son. He knows that Ryan hasn’t sent any direct messages to Kirsten since she left to rehab.

Seth leans forward on his arms, bracing his weight against the counters. “Can you ask her if she’s ever coming home?”

Sandy slides his eyes to the corner and says, “You know if we push her too hard and it doesn’t work out we’ll only have ourselves to blame.”

“Yeah, well,” Seth mutters half under his breathe. “Maybe, if we don’t push at all we may never see her again.”

Sandy walks around the counter and snaps, “You know the situation is just too complicated for those snide comment.” He walks out the door, leaving Seth and Ryan alone.

“Maybe I took that a bit too far.”

Ryan looks down at his bowl of cereal and says nothing. He’d purposely stayed quiet during the interchange, afraid that his voice would betray him. He doesn’t think Seth said anything wrong. He has been wondering the same thing. He figures Sandy was crumbling under the pressure, taking it out on Seth instead of Kirsten, who was refusing to come home. Ryan wonders if Kirsten ever plans on coming home. Most people who left him didn’t have a great track record when it came to coming back.

Ryan thinks of the last time he’s had any contact with his mother. Aside from the wave at the pool house door that early morning in August, the only time he’s heard from Dawn in the last two years is the gifts she had sent him at Christmas time his first year with the Cohens. He had even tried to seek her out that summer he had spent the summer in Chino when Theresa had been pregnant, but he couldn’t find her. She hadn’t wanted to be found.

Lindsay had left him too. Despite the familial relationship, she didn’t put a great effort in keeping in touch. Not even after Caleb died. She had sent a wreath of flowers with a short note to Kirsten saying that she was unable to attend the funeral, but hoped that Kirsten found comfort in her father’s love for her. Ryan knew Lindsay had no way of knowing that Kirsten had fought with Caleb just hours before his heart attack or know that Kirsten had fallen into the depths of alcohol, but who’s fault was that? He understood her need to get away and to make a fresh start, but to Ryan it was just another person who had left him behind.

Trey’s leaving was still fresh on his mind. He knew his brother was never coming back. The cops had come by questioning Ryan if he knew his brother’s whereabouts. Sandy had been there, hand firmly on his shoulder and despite the desire to protect Trey he had told the truth.

“The last time I saw him, he was on a greyhound at the Newport bus station.”

“Where was he headed?”the cop asked.

Ryan had looked up at Sandy. He knitted his brows together in deep concentration. “I didn’t have time to look. I just ran up and found him. Did you see Sandy?”

Sandy shook his head. “Sorry officers. We can tell you it was about eight thirty p.m. If that helps you narrow it down a little.”

The officer had pursed his lips as if to say he didn’t believe them, but he had simply nodded his head, thanked them and showed himself out.

So there was no way his brother could come back to town or else he’d be in jail.

Now Marissa was leaving him. Another person he can’t hold onto. Ryan wonders what it is about him that makes people leave. What is it about him that is so unlovable? What is it that makes him so easy to leave behind and never look back?

The thoughts invade Ryan’s mind, take over his entire demeanor, so his shoulders slouch and his chin hangs down low. He doesn’t tell Seth that he has been wondering if Kirsten would ever come home.

The next afternoon, he and Seth are coming down the stairs, planning to raid the kitchen for some snacks. Sandy had left a message about a family dinner. Neither Ryan nor Seth were eager to sit with the volatile Sandy, who was ready to snap and bark at them any minute, but the consequences of not listening would be a lot worse.

“So it sucks that I got two weeks detention.” Seth hops down the last few steps.

“I thought you said it was two months.”

“That does suck. But the point is that for the first time ever, I stood up for someone.”

“It’s like you became a man,” Ryan grins.

The front door opens and Sandy walks in holding a brown sack bulging with groceries. He stops when he spots the boys and moves aside when Kirsten walks in behind him.

For a moment, everyone freezes. Ryan thinks he’s seeing a mirage, because no one who has ever left him has come back. But he can tell by the way Sandy is beaming and Seth is stunned into silence that Kirsten is real.

He moves around Seth, careful not to knock his shoulder. The slightest touch will probably knock over his less related brother. He envelopes Kirsten in his arms and hugs her tightly. He doesn’t want to let go, afraid she may disappear, but knows Seth needs to take his turn. Seth comes forward, breaks into a grin, and mutters something quietly to his mother. She says something back and finally they break apart.

“Who’s hungry?” Sandy asks.

They all agree that a meal sounds good and head into the kitchen. Seth is actually carrying the groceries. Ryan takes Kirsten by the hand. He wants to touch her again, make sure he isn’t dreaming. He feels the cool downy sin in his own rough hands, still worn from the days he worked construction.

“So, your Grandpa’s broke,” Kirsten started, trying to bring normalcy back to her kitchen.

“Ryan and Marissa don’t go to school anymore.” Seth jumped right in, knowing what his mother was trying to do, but ready to do with her.

“Jimmy Cooper sailed out of town again.” Ryan dug into the brown paper sack. Could things be all right again?

“I got two months of detention.” Seth thought this would be the wisest way to let his parents about his little bit of trouble. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice and forget about it. He saw his mother half-smile and half-frown at him, but she let the revelation slide.

Instead Sandy throws up his hands and says, “That’s the great thing about this place. Nothing ever happens.”

A day later, Ryan is still checking that Kirsten is there at every turn. He hopes he isn’t too obvious, but is afraid not to keep looking in case, she disappears again. He knows that this is irrational and almost childlike, but he loves having Kirsten home.

Seth is happier. It’s hard to point to the differences, because except for that first week, when Ryan was in the hospital and Kirsten was in rehab, Seth hadn’t stopped joking or talking or laughing. But Ryan has noticed that Seth’s step is lighter. That in the past twenty-four hours he has smiled more than he has in the last three months.

It’s easy to tell that Sandy is over the moon. He hasn’t let go of Kirsten for more than a moment. The night before, Sandy had held Kirsten’s hand throughout dinner. His shoulders now sag, relaxed. His back isn’t so rigid. His orders aren’t short and clipped as they have been for most of the summers, and especially the last few days since Ryan got thrown out of school.

Having Kirsten home has changed the whole atmosphere in the house. It’s no longer charged with electricity. It no longer feels like if someone throws a match that everything will explode. It just feels right and safe and like home again.

On Sunday, Ryan, skulking around the patio overhears Kirsten talking to Sandy. The door to their bedroom, the one that leads to the patio is wide open, letting in the cool autumn air. Ryan pretends to read one of Seth’s graphic novels, a science fiction adventure, while really trying to overhear the adults’ conversation. He can’t see her from his vantage point, but just the sound of Kirsten’ voice, nearby, can calm his churning stomach.

“Sandy, after everything,” she says, “I know this is a bit to ask, but could you please stay on at the Newport Group for a little while longer.” Her voice is hesitant. So unlike the confident sassy Kirsten recalls from the pre-Suriak days.

“Why?” Sandy’s voice is low and gravely. He doesn’t sound upset, just curious.

“I want to stay home for a while. I wan to focus on the boys. I promise it’s temporary. They’ll get sick of me soon enough.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

“Then I’ll keep the Newport Group afloat for now. And you whip this house back in shape.”

Ryan can hear the soft murmuring, the kissing as their lips smack against each other, the groaning and the desire. He gets up, realizing that there’s only so much he wants to witness, and starts to head back to the pool house. He doesn’t realize that they’ve pulled apart and that Kirsten has stepped out onto the patio.

“Ryan,” she calls. “Don’t run off.”

He stops. Turns and waves with a shy smile.

“Come. Sit.” She pats one of the lounge chairs. “Let’s talk.”

He takes a few hesitant steps and wonders if this is how Kirsten is going to start ‘whipping the house back in shape.’ He hates to be the first victim. Though he knows he’s the one who’s caused the most trouble these past few months. These past few years, really. He knows the Cohens had led an ordinary quiet life before he had come to Newport.

Kirsten is still patting the lounge chair and Ryan sits down, his back straight, unable to relax. Kirsten leans back in her chair and smiles at him.

“I won’t bite.”

He smiles.

“I just want to talk.”

“About?”

“There’s a lot to cover. I know this summer has probably been hardest on you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to support you and I’m sorry that the last taste I left in your mouth was one that indicated that I didn’t care.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but she doesn’t let him talk.

“I know I hurt you. When you moved in with us, I promised you a better life.”

This time he doesn’t let her stop him. “You gave me one. You always did right by me.”

“I’m no better than your mother.”

He shakes his furiously. “My mother never tried to get better. When she left me, she never came back. You got better. You came home.” He reaches for her hand and holds them. “I wasn’t always sure if you’d come back, but you did.”

“I would never leave you or Seth or Sandy.”

“That’s why you are better than my mother.”

All About Family 5

famous99 — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 16:56:53 GMT

Title: All About Family
Rating: PG 13 (Rish in some chapters)
Summary: Ryan's Dad comes to Newport.
S4 with spoilers up to My Two Dads

Thank you to chazper for beta duties.
A reminder that I give credit to brandywine421's hurting Ryan fic: http://brandywine421.livejournal.com/369537.html for kick starting my muse all those months ago.

Frank sat down on the other end the bench where Ryan was sitting, leaving enough room for a third person to fit between them. He turned slightly so he was facing his son and couldn’t help but notice that Ryan squeezed himself closer to the other edge of the bench, as if Frank were a smelly vagrant coming to share his space.

He appraised Ryan silently, his head foolishly bobbing up and down in approval. “You look good, Ryan.”

Ryan had always favored his mother in coloring, but his square strong jaw and muscular build were obviously inherited from Frank.

“Are you happy?”

Ryan’s head jerked up. He stared at Frank, silently setting his mouth in an o. He ran his tongue over his lips, hoping to moisten his parched lips.

“Happy?”

Frank nodded. “Happy. Satisfied with where you are in life.”

“Well,” Ryan started slowly. “I graduated high school. Not easy if you’re an Atwood.” He slid his eyes sideways and then forward, staring out into the crowds of shoppers as he continued. “I was accepted into a good college. But I’m nearly 19 and I’m working in a restaurant instead.” He shrugged. “Sure I’m happy.”

As soon as the words left Ryan’s mouth, he regretted them. He felt like he had opened up a private part of him that he wasn’t ready to share with Frank. He shrunk back further into the bench, wishing he could turn back the clock to that morning so he could stop himself before he picked up the phone to contact Frank.

Frank shifted in his seat as Ryan continued to stare absently into the throngs of shoppers. He scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat. He didn’t quite know how to respond to Ryan’s quiet deadpan voice. Finally, Frank just blurted out the first question that came to mind. “Why didn’t you start college last September?”

Ryan blinked rapidly, trying to refocus when he heard Frank quietly call his name. “I was in a car accident last summer,” he said automatically. “And my friend died. I was too messed up to go to college.”

Exhausted from the mere mention of Marissa, Ryan fell back in his seat. He wondered if Frank had some voodoo powers or was it the magical natural bond between father and son. Confiding in Sandy, trusting Sandy, was always something he had to work on. Why was he practically baring his soul to Frank after the man had been absent for most of his life?

“I’m sorry, son.” Frank reached out to touch Ryan’s arm, but Ryan bristled from the touch. Frank jerked back his hand, as if electrocuted, and then stuffed the offending hands between his legs. “Were you hurt too? How long were you in the hospital?”

Ryan shook his head, wondering if he had sensed a hint of concern in Frank’s voice. “Not that sort of messed up.”

Ryan made it a point of keeping Marissa out of his daily thoughts. Sometimes it didn’t work, and she would creep in there at the least expected times. Her scent, her laugh, her voice would sneak into his consciousness and catch him unawares, like a spider catching prey in its web. It would grab hold of him and not let him go until the memories devoured him or someone like Seth or Taylor helped free him. But like any prey untangling itself from a spider’s web, the memory always left him mangled and maimed.

Frank started to say something, but was preempted by Ryan abruptly standing.

“This was a mistake,” he said, without looking back. “I should never have called this morning. I’m not ready for this.”

Ryan started to walk forward, and Frank jumped up as if to chase him. “Ryan, no. We’ll talk about something else. Please, don’t go.”

But Ryan kept walking as if he didn’t hear anyone calling for him. Within moments he melted into the crowd of shoppers and let them sweep him up and carry him away. He was on the other side of the mall before he stopped to look around. He moved off to the side to study his surroundings, grateful that he knew where he was. His car wasn’t parked too far away, but best of all, the comic shop where Seth worked was right there.

~~~~~~~

Frank kicked the corner of the bench furiously. After the first kick, his toe hurt. After the third kick, he stopped feeling the pain. After the tenth angry kick, he felt someone gently touch on his arm.

“Ryan? Son, I’m sorry.” He swung around and stopped abruptly when he saw it wasn’t Ryan. “Oh. Julie.”

She arched her carefully tweezed brows. “I’m used to a much better reception than that.”

“I was hoping it was Ryan. We were talking and he just ran off.”

Julie swallowed hard, hoping to mask her emotions. “Did you say anything to upset him?” she asked circumspectly.

Frank sank back down in the bench and ran a hand through his overgrown hair. “I was just asking if he was happy and he mentioned an accident this summer. I really put my foot in my mouth. His friend died—“

“I know all about it.” Julie’s voice was hoarse and strangled.

“Oh.” Frank stopped talking; taking the time to notice the color had drained from Julie’s face. “I guess this is a small town. Did you know Ryan’s friend?”

She averted Frank’s eyes when in a choked whisper she said, “My daughter.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Feeling wobbly at the torrent of memories that flooded her mind, Julie dropped down beside Frank.

“What brings you to the mall?” Frank put false cheer in his voice, hoping to veer the topic of conversation from his faux pas.

“Kaitlin. My other daughter needed a ride home, but when she saw me she asked for some more time with her friends. I think she was just embarrassed that I dared show my face to her friends.”

“She must be a teenager.” Frank chortled. “Trey, Ryan’s brother—“

Julie cut him off. “I met Trey.”

“Oh.” He ignored the icy tone in her voice and continued. “So Trey was just about thirteen when I was arrested, but the teenage attitude and shame were already present.” He smiled to himself as if the memory gave him pleasure. “I almost wish I had the chance to relive those years with the boys, even though I’m sure it would have frustrated the hell out of me.”

“Marissa was like that too. She wasn’t afraid to let the whole town know that she hated me.” Julie looked off into the distance. “She and Ryan dated on and off most of the time he lived here in Newport. They were finally able to be with each other—“ She stopped mid sentence, groping, as if in the dark, for the right words to describe Marissa and Ryan’s complicated relationship. “They finally found a way to be friends the night she was killed.”

“Killed?”

“She and Ryan were run off the road by some thug who claimed he loved her. The accident changed Ryan. It changed the way I thought of Ryan. He’s not the kid from Juvie who came to stay with the Cohens anymore. Marissa loved him. Had she lived they always would have maintained some sort of connection.” Julie looked at Frank. “You should know, I will protect Ryan if only because Marissa would have wanted it.”

“I’m not here to hurt Ryan.”

She looked up at Frank with an icy stare. “But I won’t let him be hurt either.”

~~~~~~~

When Ryan walked into the comic shop, Seth was in middle of a long-winded explanation of why D.C.’s Identity Crisis couldn’t be one of the top ten graphic novels of the year. His face was flushed and animated as it usually was when Seth talked about something that interested him. The young teen who was Seth’s captive audience was squirming in his seat, peeking around the slight lanky frame of the oblivious store clerk to find any escape route.

Ryan was the kid’s salvation.

“Seth, you’re going to run out of words for the day.”

“That’s not possible, Ryan.” The giddy tone in Seth’s voice seemed to go up an octave when he heard his best friend behind him. He swiveled around to face Ryan. “Especially when educating the youth of America about the missteps of the D.C. universe.”

Ryan shook his head ruefully and discreetly motioned for the kid to go. The young teen ran off and Ryan stepped in front of Seth as he tried to go after the kid.

“I just got back from meeting with my dad,” Ryan preempted. He let the announcement rapidly roll off his tongue for the sake of the teen that was going to be scared off of comics for life if Ryan didn’t do something, but he was glad for the excuse to blurt out the information. Otherwise, he would have beaten around the bush for hours. He wasn’t even sure if Seth knew his dad was back in town, since he and Summer were so consumed with their engagement.

“Oh.” The one word seemed to deflate Seth. “How’d that go?”

Math & Ice Cream

famous99 — Thu, 19 Jul 2007 02:28:18 GMT

I know. I have too much time on my hands....

You Passed 8th Grade Math

Congratulations, you got 9/10 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Math?

You Are A Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream Girl

Creative. Expressive. Unique.

What Flavor Ice Cream Girl Are You?

Chapter Four

famous99 — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 15:24:11 GMT

Title: All About Family
Rating: PG 13 Maybe even R
Summary: Ryan's Dad comes to Newport.
S4 with spoilers up to My Two Dads

Thank you to chazper for beta duties.
A reminder that I give credit to brandywine421's hurting Ryan fic: http://brandywine421.livejournal.com/369537.html for kick starting my muse all those months ago.

When Ryan entered the kitchen followed by Taylor later the same morning, Sandy’s head was bent in concentration as he tried to schmear the perfect consistency of cream cheese on his sesame bagel. Kirsten was leaning against the counter sipping her coffee, but she immediately set the coffee cup not so gently on the granite and let her hands fly to her hips. She tapped her foot impatiently, trying to find an expression that would show her displeasure with Ryan and yet not scare off Taylor.

“Good Morning, Ryan. Taylor.” Kirsten’s voice was clipped, sending Ryan’s innards into a series of back flips.

He had been so distracted with Sandy’s talk and the call he made to his father that Ryan had forgotten that Taylor shadowing him from the pool house would probably clue the Cohens in on his overnight visit. The color rushed to his face and he ducked his head, mumbling, “G’morning.” Turning his back to Kirsten, he pulled out two mugs from the cabinet, trying to act nonchalant, like there was nothing amiss in Taylor trailing him from his bedroom to the kitchen so early in the morning. He handed Taylor a steaming cup of coffee before sliding onto one of the stools. She slipped into the stool beside him and squeezed his knee to show her support.

He immediately noticed that Kirsten wasn’t finished. Her mouth was open, her lips ready to form the words that would scold him. Ryan wished she would wait until after Taylor left; he really wasn’t in the mood for another verbal smackdown in front of his girlfriend. Then he detected Sandy smirking under his heavy bangs and Ryan felt like he was going to break under the pressure, but Taylor cracked first. The flood began.

“Sandy, Kirsten, I’m so sorry. I know Ryan was grounded, and it all started because of me. I should have reminded him to call and let you know where he was or better yet,” she said, reacting to Kirsten’s dubious look, “Not entice him to stay out all night. I’m just not used to checking in anymore, you know? It’s not like Veronica was ever very concerned about my whereabouts, and while Julie’s a doll, I don’t quite check in to her on a daily basis. It wasn’t fair to worry you. But really, I only came over last night to keep Ryan company for a bit and… and….” Finally running out of steam, Taylor gulped a large breathe of air.

Ryan scrutinized the picture of him and Seth on the coffee mug, a present to Kirsten for her birthday, hoping that he would become the incredible shrinking teenager.

“The important thing right now, is not to focus on our indiscretions, but on helping Ryan reunite with his father. It’s not going to be easy for him to meet the man after all these years.” As Taylor found her groove the torrent of words ran one right after another, barely leaving anyone time to keep up with her marathon of words.

“It’s a momentous occasion. It’s no secret that Ryan has a troubled history with his dad and this is bound to —“

Ryan always hated being the center of attention. He hated it more when people talked about him as if wasn’t even in the room. While he loved Taylor and was excited by her and stimulated by her, he didn’t want to hear her talk anymore about this topic.

“Taylor. We got it.” His voice was abrupt and he hated sounding mad, but sometimes the only way to get Taylor to stop was to show some force. “Sandy, Kirsten. I’m sorry. About everything.” He glanced at the clock, and with relief, noticed it was getting late. “My shift starts in twenty minutes and I don’t want to be late. Can we talk about all of this tonight at dinner?”

“We have a lot to talk about, Ryan.” Thankfully, Kirsten didn’t sound annoyed anymore, but the dejected tone in her voice didn’t assuage Ryan’s guilt at all. “My afternoon is free,” she started.

He ducked his head. “I already made plans to meet my dad after my shift is over. I’ll be home for dinner though.”

“That’s fine,” Kirsten said doing her best to mask any emotion.

Sandy did his best to shy away from the counter island, but Kirsten tightly held on to his hand. He watched Ryan and Taylor retreat from the kitchen, biting his lip hard. He thought it would stop the water that threatened to emerge from the corner of his eyes.

~~~~~~

The kitchen felt empty as soon as Ryan and Taylor left it, even though Kirsten and Sandy were still standing in it. She loved how the kids and their friends filled a room, even when they were breaking the rules. It gave life to the house and while it frustrated her that Seth and Ryan could still behave like irresponsible teenagers, she was glad she could still get away with mothering them. She knew it wouldn’t last very long.

Sandy stuffed the last bite of his bagel in his mouth and brought his empty plate to the sink.

“I don’t trust Frank Atwood,” he said. Kirsten could barely understand his words, because he was talking with his mouth full.

“Sandy,” she chastised, “Swallow before you talk.” She rolled her eyes. Every once in a while her husband’s behavior reminded her that her job as a mother would never be done, no matter how old the boys were.

“I don’t trust Frank Atwood,” he repeated sullenly. Sandy turned on the water and rinsed the plate before loading it in the dishwasher. “The way he skulked into town asking questions of Julie. He just showed up at our door thinking Ryan would embrace his return. If he really cared for Ryan, he would have been more careful of how Ryan might react. After the way he treated Ryan as a boy, why should we embrace his father’s return?”

Kirsten went to Sandy’s side and uncurled Sandy’s finger from the sponge he was gripping the life out of.

“Our job is to be here for Ryan. He seems to want to reunite with Frank.”

“Why?”

Kirsten shrugged. “I don’t know, hon. But we’ve always helped Ryan stay connected to his first family.” She brushed a strand of Sandy’s unruly hair behind his ears. “It never changed the fact that we’re his family too. One doesn’t cancel out the other. You will always be Ryan’s father in ways Frank could never be. Maybe Ryan needs to reconnect with Frank so he can lay some demons from his childhood to rest. Our job is to be there for him.”

“Our job is to protect him.” Sandy pushed away from the sink, propelling him backwards into the island counter, the edge catching him in the small of his back with a twinge of pain. “We have to look out for him. We failed him so many times since he’s moved in with us—“

“Sandy, this is no time to rehash all our failures. It’s part of being a parent. We don’t always make the right choices.”

“Oliver? For weeks Ryan was trying to tell us the kid was unbalanced and we were treating Ryan like he was the problem. Theresa’s pregnancy? We let a sixteen-year-old kid move out of his home and try and make it on his own.” Sandy started to tick off the incidences one by one on his fingers. “Trey? We were so engrossed in our own marital drama that we didn’t even see how unsettled Trey was and how it was affecting Ryan. Dawn?”

“Sandy, enough!” Kirsten’s voice was loud and sharp. She gripped the end of the counter until her finger turned white, feeling the heat rising to the tips of her ears. “The list goes on and on. We can add my drinking and how I treated Ryan at the Intervention or how we ignored him and Seth both when I got out of rehab. But it won’t help. Ryan knows we love him. Ryan knows we’re not perfect.

“We were totally out of our element when we took Ryan in. We did the best that we could. For all the mistakes we made, we also gave him a safe place to live filled with love and acceptance and a family and home life that was devoid of violence. Ryan knows this. He knows that he has a place in our family forever. I understand you’re feeling threatened by Frank’s coming to town—“

Sandy’s eyes blazed. “I. Am. Not. Jealous,” he said through clenched teeth. He wasn’t sure why he and Kirsten were fighting. Yet it felt good somehow. The shouting and the arguing felt cathartic. “I am not some child or jealous lover.”

“I didn’t say you were! But I know where you’re coming from. Just because I encouraged Ryan to reconnect with Dawn, do you think I didn’t hate every moment she was in our house?”

“It’s not the same.” Sandy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “There’s something off about the way Frank approached this whole thing. We have to be on top of this. We have to make sure that Ryan’s not hurt by him. I don’t know if the kid can take another hit. We could lose him for good this time.”

Kirsten laid a hand on Sandy’s shoulder. “Julie promised she’d do some snooping. You have your calls in to the Bullit and his parole officer. We’ll all work to protect Ryan.” She folded her husband into a tight embrace and nestled her face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of Old Spice and mint-flavored toothpaste. “You,” she said pointedly, “Are in dire need of a surf. You don’t have a court date until this afternoon. Go for a bit. Unwind. It’ll benefit your clients and your family.”

With a heavy sigh, Sandy ran his hands through his hair. “That sounds like a good idea.” He started to head for their room, but stopped and turned back to Kirsten. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take this out on you.”

Lifting her brows playfully, Kirsten answered, “I’ll give you a pass this time.”

~~~~~~

Ryan wiped his hand on the top of his jeans for the umpteenth time since leaving work. He couldn’t stop his hands from getting clammy and sweaty, no matter how cool it was in the restaurant or in the car. The mall was a comfortable temperature, but Ryan felt uncomfortably hot. He tugged at the collar of his black tee, and berated himself for not changing after his shift.

Frank should have arrived ten minutes ago. Ryan had decided it was best to meet in an open and public space. Even though he did want to meet with his father and talk to him, he was still wary of the man. Was he in touch with Trey? Had he looked up Dawn since he got out? Had jail changed him? What were Frank’s plans now that he was out? How was Ryan going to fit into those plans?

He wished he could find something to block the questions tumbling in his head. An iPod loaded with Seth’s music would come in handy. Ryan looked at his watch again. The minute hand had barely moved a fraction of an inch. He sighed, wishing he could make time move faster. Sinking into an empty bench, Ryan tried to relax. Instead, he dug his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. No messages. No missed calls. Would his father show?

He started to come up with a contingency plan. If his father didn’t show up by six thirty, Ryan would go back home. If he sensed the Cohens weren’t too mad about the night before maybe Taylor would come over. Unconsciously, he raised his thumb to his mouth and chewed on the corner of his fingernail.

“Your mother was always trying to get you to keep your fingers out of your mouth. Guess it never worked.”

Ryan’s heart skipped a beat when he heard Frank’s voice break into his nervous thoughts. Slowly, he brought his hand back down to his lap.

“Hey, dad.”

All About Family

famous99 — Mon, 02 Jul 2007 02:38:41 GMT

You aren't imagining it. This is a fic from me.

Title: All About Family
Rating: PG 13 Maybe even R
Summary: Ryan's Dad comes to Newport.
S4 with spoilers up to My Two Dads

Thank you to chazper for beta duties.
A reminder that I give credit to brandywine421's hurting Ryan fic: http://brandywine421.livejournal.com/369537.html for kick starting my muse.

Ryan was grateful for an excuse to escape from the awful dinner and into his pool house. The tension had been so thick he could have sliced it with a butter knife. He hoped Julie’s arrival would serve as a much needed distraction and that the Cohens would soon be ensnared in one of her devious or ludicrous schemes. He wasn’t expecting to find Taylor sprawled out on his bed.

He skidded to a halt as soon as he spotted her stretched out on top of the comforter with her dirty blond hair fanned out on the pillow. His heart started to beat wildly and his pants tightened as his eyes skimmed over her scantily clad body. Even from the door she looked succulent and he wanted to sidle up next to her and run his finger over her downy skin.

Kirsten would kill him if she saw this and possibly Sandy would too.

A sly smile spread on Ryan’s face as he realized Taylor had come to make good on her promise to show him her displeasure for getting grounded. He guessed she was doing it by wearing pink lingerie — a tiny lace pink bra with little green flowers and matching lace underwear. He repeatedly told her that pink reminded him of little girls, but staring at his girlfriend lying on his bed, Ryan was one hundred percent certain that Taylor was no little girl.

He ran a tongue over his lips and blurted out, “If this is my punishment, I’m going to be bad more often.”

Taylor giggled. “Come here, naughty boy.” She crooked her finger and beckoned Ryan to come closer.

He obliged, climbing onto the edge of his bed, sliding his knees between her her open legs, only stopping to kick off his boots and drag off his socks. He slowly inched closer to Taylor, trying not to let on how eager he was. But Taylor made a grab for his crotch and slyly smiled as his body gave him away.

~~~~~~~~

Ryan started when he heard Sandy lightly knock on the pool house door and rattle it as he tried to get in before Ryan answered. Sunlight was pouring in through the window shades and Ryan blinked rapidly as he realized his predicament.

Taylor had already rolled off the bed, gathering her clothes in a bundle and shoving a wife beater and jeans at him.

“Can I come in?” Sandy called through the locked door. He sounded slightly off put to find himself locked out of Ryan’s room.

Ryan blew Taylor a kiss as she hurried into the bathroom and closed the door.

“I’m coming,” Ryan said, stuffing his feet into the legs of the jeans and getting uncharacteristically tangled as he hurried to let Sandy in.

A minute later, Ryan yanked the door open as he closed the top button of his jeans.

“’Morning,” he mumbled.

Sandy entered the room and sat down in one of the chairs across from Ryan’s bed. His eyes flitted around the room and finally landed on the young man in front of him. “Are you doing anything special today?” Sandy fished, wondering if Ryan was going to meet Frank at the hotel. “Aside from work.”

“I’m grounded, remember?” Ryan used the snottiest tone he could muster. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Taylor’s little pink panty. He quickly shoved it under his bed with his big toe.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Sandy’s sharp tone made Ryan’s head snap up.

If it had been Seth, Sandy knew he would have worded that just slightly different. It would have gone something like, don’t talk to your father like that. Some other time, Sandy might have been able to get away with referring to himself as Ryan’s father, but not with Frank trying to mend fences with his son.

If that’s what he was here for.

Having Frank around would change the entire dynamic of his relationship with Ryan.

“I guess,” Sandy said, scratching the back of his neck, “I was asking if you were planning to see your father.” He used a conciliatory tone, not wanting to alienate Ryan any further than this situation already had.

Ryan swallowed, so that his Adam’s apple was bobbed up and down his throat. “Eventually.”

Sandy measured his next words carefully. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. No matter what.”

“Why?” Ryan’s nostrils flared. “You think Frank is going to try and hurt me like Trey?” He stood up huffily, roughly grabbing some of his scattered clothes and jamming it into the basket he used as a hamper. “You think that Frank is going to leave again? Like my mom?” He was breathing heavily, looking like an animal caught in a trap. “It doesn’t matter what he does. He’s family.”

Sandy inhaled sharply, knowing he had to tread carefully. He felt like he was on thin ice. A native of Southern California forced to face an East Coast winter for the first time. How many of Ryan’s issues they had just let lie dormant because it appeared that Ryan had adjusted so well to Newport? After Dawn had abandoned him and after Marissa shot Trey they just went back to normal, burying what happened and letting Ryan’s hurt and insecurities fester instead of helping him.

In the four years that Ryan lived with them, barely a mention of Frank had been made. All these years, Ryan’s father had been safely tucked away in Chino’s maximum security penitentiary. Ryan had never asked to go visit Frank, and Sandy had seen no reason to suggest or encourage it. Frank had never once tried to make contact.

It made Sandy wonder, once again, about Frank’s motivation. But that wasn’t his primary concern. At the moment, the most important thing was Ryan, the young man standing before him. He knew Ryan well. Not as well as he wanted, but well enough to know that right now, Ryan’s different emotions were twisting inside of him in a knot so tight, even a sailor would have trouble unraveling it.

Sandy jumped at the sound of a loud thud. He quickly scanned the room when the thud happened a second time and realized it was Ryan’s fist banging against the punching bag. There was a third thud, but this time Sandy was able to discern the flesh against the heavy canvas. The kid was punching hard enough to draw blood. He got up to search the room, hoping to find gloves lying around in plain sight.

The thuds, more like sharp smacks now, were coming like rapid fire bullets out of a machine gun. One two. One two. One two. Sandy stood behind Ryan and talked just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the punching.

“Kid, I know things didn’t work out with your brother, but there’s no reason to think the same thing will happen with your father.” He said the words, but he didn’t believe them. “Kirsten and I are right here behind you, no matter what happens. We love you. Remember that. We’ll always be here, whether it’s to pick up the pieces or to share in your joy.”

The punches slowed down and finally, Ryan caught the bag between his hands and he leaned his head against the canvas.

“I need to be alone now.”

“That’s fine. I’ll leave. But Ryan, we love you. Don’t forget that.”

Sandy left the room, pausing slightly at the door, wondering how he could make it better for his son.

When he was sure Sandy was gone, Ryan jammed his scraped and bruised hand into his pocket, feeling for the business card his father had given him the night before. His body was stiff and still, except for the slight sway that went along with the momentum of the heavy bag. Drawing in his breath, he filled his lungs to capacity and slowly let it out.

He jumped when he felt Taylor’s hand on his shoulder, but was immediately relaxed by her touch.

“I didn’t know your dad was in town.”

“I didn’t have a chance to tell you.” She was standing on the other side of the bag, leaning on it, pushing against the bag when he pushed towards her. He took her hand and held it in his. “I had other things on my mind yesterday.”

Taylor giggled but quickly grew serious before asking, “Do you want to see your dad?”

Ryan shrugged. “Yeah. I do. But Sandy doesn’t want me to.”

“He said that?”

He shook his head. “I can just tell.” He sighed.

“What are you going to do?” Taylor asked.

Biting his lower lip, Ryan pondered the question before answering. “Call him,” he said, grabbing the phone.

Some Medical Insurance Humor

famous99 — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 01:33:24 GMT

My aunt send me some laughter therapy... I've found this to be so true, I just thought I'd share with my f-list. I don't know how bad insurance is in other countries.... but it's bad here!

Q . What does HMO stand for ?

A. This is actually a variation of the phrase, "HEY MOE." Its roots go back to a concept pioneered by Moe of the Three Stooges, who discovered that a patient could be made to forget the pain in his foot if he was poked hard enough in the eye.
Q . I just joined an HMO . How difficult will it be to choose the doctor I want?

A. Just slightly more difficult than choosing your parents. Your insurer will provide you with a book listing all the doctors in the plan. The doctors basically fall into two categories: those who are no longer accepting new patients, and those who will see you but are no longer participating in the plan. But don't worry, the remaining doctor who is still in the plan and accepting new patients has an office just a half-day's drive away and a diploma from a third world country.

Q. Do all diagnostic procedures require pre-certification?

A. No. Only those you need.

Q. Can I get coverage for my preexisting conditions?

A. Certainly, as long as they don't require any treatment.

Q. What happens if I want to try alternative forms of medicine?

A. You'll need to find

Q . My pharmacy plan only covers generic drugs, but I need the name brand . I tried the generic medication, but it gave me a stomachache. What should I do?

A. Poke yourself in the eye .

Q. What if I'm away from home and I get sick ?

A. You really shouldn't do that.

Q. I think I need to see a specialist, but my doctor insists he can handle my problem . Can a general practitioner really perform a heart transplant right in his/her office ?

A. Hard to say, but considering that all you're risking is the $20 co-payment, there's no harm in giving it a shot.

Q . Will health care be different in the next decade ?

A. No, but if you call right now, you might get an appointment by then .

To Your Good Health (because as you'll see, you'll need it !)

HEALTH QUESTION & ANSWER SESSION with Dr. Kenmiester :

Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true?

A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?

A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?

A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?

A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?

A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good !

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?

A: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING !!! ... Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?

A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?

A: Are you crazy? HELLO Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around!

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?

A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?

A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape!

Ha! Ha! Ha!

famous99 — Mon, 02 Apr 2007 00:26:54 GMT

Free Broadband?
http://www.google.com/tisp/

Cuz everyone is doing it:

famous99 — Fri, 30 Mar 2007 22:06:00 GMT

What Be Your Nerd Type? Your Result: Literature Nerd Does sitting by a nice cozy fire, with a cup of hot tea/chocolate, and a book you can read for hours even when your eyes grow red and dry and you look sort of scary sitting there with your insomniac appearance? Then you fit this category perfectly! You love the power of the written word and it's eloquence; and you may like to read/write poetry or novels. You contribute to the smart people of today's society, however you can probably be overly-critical of works. It's okay. I understand.
Social Nerd
Artistic Nerd
Gamer/Computer Nerd
Drama Nerd
Science/Math Nerd
Musician
Anime Nerd
What Be Your Nerd Type? Quizzes for MySpace

famous99 — Fri, 23 Mar 2007 22:17:08 GMT

I haven't been getting LJ notifications since last night... anyone else having this problem?

famous99 — Thu, 15 Feb 2007 16:45:43 GMT

We had our first snow of the season here in NYC. It wasn’t that the accumulation was too much, but the ice that fell with it. The roads are treacherous (still) and of course the city did a less than stellar job at clearing the roads. Though, I’m not sure what they could do for the ice. Fortunately, I have a wonderful husband who cleaned off my car and pulled me out of my spot. He’s so good to me. The other day, my father wanted to know if I had one of those self starters that let me warm up my car in advance. I said, “sure, my husband.” Because every morning, Mr. Famous goes down before me and warms up my car, so that when I’m ready to leave I don’t have to waste my time sitting in a cold car.

It’s been a hectic and overwhelming week. Each morning I have to drive into the city for my daily monitoring. They draw blood each day, so the inside of both my arms are black and blue. They also perform a sonogram every few days to monitor the growth of the eggs.

This whole process, waiting for instructions each night about dosage, etc., injecting myself (last night I gave myself three different shots), and going into the city each morning (between 7:30 and 9 a.m.), is overwhelming. It made me realize how stressful the IVF treatment is, and how terrible it must be for those women – couples – that go through it over and over again. It’s known that IVF doesn’t always work on the first try. They might get the eggs, successfully fertilize them, but it doesn’t always mean a successful impregnation.

And the cost is astronomical. I don’t know how these couples can afford to do this more than once.

All in all, I’m hanging in there. I should start chemo in the next week and a half. I’m also off from work next week and I’m looking forward to sleeping late!

FIC!

famous99 — Sun, 11 Feb 2007 23:59:18 GMT

Title: What's in a Name
Rating: PG - probably G

This came from indigorayne on the oc_plotbunnies community.
Thanks to chazper for her beta services.

Ryan sat by his computer scrolling through the website trying to identify how many different forms he would need to fill in. He’d started his search at the public library, where a young pretty librarian had told him how could find the forms online. Just a couple of clicks and all the instructions and forms were there in front of him. It seemed so simple. A short form and a fee he could easily afford.

He’d read up on it, using a website that Sandy had once pointed out to him, and while following up would prove to be more difficult, with all the different places he’d have to inform, DMV, Social Security, his health insurance, Berkley, and a host of others, it still seemed worth it. He knew it was worth it.

They allowed you complete the form on the web, so Ryan typed in the correct information in all the fields and pressed CTRL and P. He watched anxiously as the printer clicked and whirred before spitting out the neatly filled out forms. That had been the easy part. The difficult part came now.” He swallowed hard as he used his fingernail to crease the papers and folded them into thirds. He then jammed the packet into the back of his pockets while he thought about venturing outside to sit with Sandy and Kirsten as they brunched.

He could see Sandy and Kirsten lounging out by the patio enjoying fruity looking drinks with umbrellas, the Saturday crossword puzzle between the two of them, and the International section sat on the right for Sandy and the Business section sat on the left for Kirsten. Seth wasn’t out yet. Ryan glanced at the clock and imagined his brother was still lazily curled up in bed, burrowed under the covers, or sneaking in another comic book before facing the big bad world.

Sighing, Ryan decided it was now or never. He opened up the pool house door, with just a bit too much force, and went out to join his foster parents.

Sandy grinned as he watched the young man stride purposefully toward them. “How’s the shopping going? Do you think you have everything you need for Berkley?”

Ryan sank down between Sandy and Kirsten, taking one of the empty chairs. “Nearly there,” he grinned, suddenly relaxing as he realized he could put off his request for another time. “Though Taylor thinks I don’t have everything I need and Seth says I’m not taking enough comics along with me.”

Kirsten tried to stifle a laugh.

“I told him Berkley had comic book stores, but he doesn’t believe me.”

“And what does Taylor think you’re missing?” Kirsten choked out when she couldn’t manage to suppress the laughter anymore.

“An Espresso machine. She also thinks I should take my heavyweight bag and—“ Ryan stopped, realizing he was about to give Sandy and Kirsten too much information. “Let’s just say Taylor doesn’t quite realize the reality of a college dorm room.”

“She’ll figure it out when she sees the room.” Sandy tapped the glass table rhythmically as a silence fell over small group. It was obvious that each of them had something more to say, that they just couldn’t get out. Finally, Sandy jumped in and said, “Ryan, about moving day. Kirsten and I, we’d really like to take you up there and help you settle in. I know it’s not very cool to have a bunch of old fogies trailing after you, but…”

“No. No.” Ryan raced to assure them. “I’d like that. Isn’t that part of the college tradition?” He asked shyly. “Having your parents drop you off?”

Kirsten grinned, as she patted the top of her bulging belly. She was glowing. Ryan wasn’t sure if it was because he called them his parents or was it her usual pregnancy glow. “That it is. You won’t mind your pregnant mom waddling in after you?”

Ryan lifted a finger at Sandy. “He’s going to have to explain himself to everyone. Not me.”

“Seth refuses to let me take him to college.”

“Kirsten, the doctor won’t allow it anyway,” Sandy patted her arm in a conciliatory manner. “I’m working on him to let us drive down with him. It’s a long trip, but I think we could do it.”

“And still take Ryan?” Kirsten questioned.

While Ryan listened, he reached into his pockets to take out the forms. They were in a good mood. It seemed like a good time to ask. He looked into the kitchen and wondered where Seth was. It would be his decision too. Absently, he flicked the edge of the papers; trying to form the right words and listening to Sandy outline his timetable to Kirsten. He explained how they could drive back and forth to Rhode Island and still have time to take Ryan up to Berkley. It seemed like a lot for a woman about to give birth, but Kirsten seemed stubborn about wanting to see both her boys off to college.

“Whatchya got there?” Sandy asked, noticing Ryan’s suddenly pensive mood.

“Just some forms.”

“I thought we filled everything out for college.” Kirsten furrowed her brows. She wasn’t used to leaving anything out. She had made appointments for both Ryan and Seth to get their immunizations up to date and had reminded them incessantly not to miss the appointment. She had sat with them as they filled out their housing forms, dining forms, and the emergency contact forms and the list of twenty other forms that each of the colleges had sent. It bothered her that she had possibly missed something.

“This isn’t about college.” Hesitantly, Ryan unfolded the paper and put them on the table, covering the content as he ironed it flat with the palm of his hands. He told himself it would make it easier for them to see, but in reality, it was just another delay tactic.

“What do you have there?” Sandy peered over Ryan’s hand. “Change of name?” Sandy furrowed his brows and looked at Ryan not bothering to hide his bewilderment.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.”

He thought back to his tumultuous senior year of high school. He recalled how he had been ready to leave Newport to work on a fishing boat, and how he had explained it to Sandy in Kirsten.

I may not be an Atwood anymore, but I’m not a Cohen.

The words had been hurtful, but they had been true. It was a sad irony that it was Marissa’s death that had most definitely made him a Cohen. Sandy, Kirsten and Seth had pulled him out of his dark abyss and helped him stand again in the world of the living. They had pulled him into the heart of their family, even when he was pushing them away.

When his father had come to Newport, even though Ryan was curious about Frank, he knew deep in his heart that Sandy Cohen was his true father. And while Dawn was doing well in Albuquerque, when she had first left him with the Cohens, choosing the alcohol over him, he knew that she would never be able to reclaim the role of mother. Frank and Dawn were his birth parents, but Sandy and Kirsten were the ones who had given him his life.

He just didn’t know how to form the words on his lips. He didn’t know how to explain it.

Kirsten leaned over to take a look. “You want to change your name to Cohen? Are you sure?”

Ryan nodded emphatically.

“I know it was never possible for you to adopt me. And I don’t know if I could ever call you mom and dad. That seems too disrespectful to Dawn and Frank. But I want people to know that you’re my family. This was the only way I could think of doing that.” The words came out of him like a gush of air leaving a balloon. He couldn’t help but notice Kirsten’s eyes grow misty. She’d been overly emotional during her entire pregnancy. So Ryan concentrated on Sandy instead, trying to read his expression.

“I’d be honored, Ryan.” He grabbed the boy in an embrace. “No matter what your name is, you are my son. Don’t ever doubt that. You don’t have to do this to prove anything—“

“This isn’t about proving anything. This is what I want.”

“Then I want it for you.” Sandy tried to keep his voice even, but it was packed with emotion. “I’m proud to call you my son. I’d be even prouder if you took on our name.” With his right hand, Sandy grasped Kirsten’s hand in his, and with his left hand he held Ryan’s. Only Seth was missing from the moment.

But Seth was never one to disappoint. A moment later, he ambled out onto the patio, with his terry robe wide open, and his pajama pants bottoms dragging on the floor.

“Hey, are we having family time? I can go back to my room and read some more Civil War,”

“You know, son, when you’re in college, I’m going to cut off your comic book allowance.”

“No can do, Dad.” Seth settled into the empty chair next to his mother and didn’t shake her off when she clasped his hand in hers. “Comic books will be part of the curriculum. In fact, you’ll probably be shelling more money out on comics. It’ll be part of the textbook budget.” Ignoring the laughter around him, Seth leaned over nosily and looked at the paper sitting on the table. “Ryan, you in trouble with the police again? I don’t think they let you change your name in that case.” Seth rubbed his arm and muttered after his mother slapped him, not too lightly. “And you should definitely think of a better pseudonym than Cohen. You hardly look like a Jew and if you’re in trouble with the law the first place they’d come looking is here.”

“I’m not running away from anything, Seth.” Ryan finally found a moment where Seth needed to take a breath and he could fit in a word edgewise. “I’m running to something.”

“Running to what?”

“Your family. Our family.”

“Awwww. That’s so sweet.”

“Seth,” warned Kirsten. She didn’t want anything to change Ryan’s mind. Especially not Seth’s teasing.

Seth picked up the papers and read them over carefully. “It’s cool.” He nodded his head in approval. “I mean, you’ve been my brother for almost four years now. But it’s cool that you want everyone to know it.”

“So, it’s okay with you?”

“Do I have to wear a suit and tie when we go to court and make this all official?”

“No.”

“Then I’m all for it, man.”

Ryan grinned. In some ways, it meant more to him that Seth was okay with it, than even Sandy.

******

“You didn’t all have to come,” Ryan said shyly. They were all surrounding him. Kirsten and her swollen belly, Sandy with his battered briefcase, and Seth, surreptitiously trying to keep Captain Oats out of sight. “It’s just two minutes in front of the judge to rubber stamp this.”

“You need representation,” Seth insisted.

“That’s why Sandy is here,” Ryan answered.

“We want to be here.” Kirsten squeezed her shoulder. “But I hope this happens quickly…” she rubbed her belly.

Luckily, Ryan was early on the docket. Once his name was called, it was only a matter of minutes before the judge stamped and made it official. Ryan swore he had no ill intent by changing his name. He wasn’t hiding from debt or becoming a criminal mastermind.

“He just wants to be one of us,” Seth had called out. Sandy had shushed him and had apologized for his son’s impertinence.

It was over. And Ryan Cohen finally had the paperwork to show he was part of the family.

Need some entertainment?

famous99 — Sun, 07 Jan 2007 17:41:01 GMT

An exercise that proves that kids have been able to learn something by playing video games
.....and we haven't!

When all the numbered red squares are visible, try to get rid of them as fast as you can, in numerical order.
(Use the mouse, but you don't have to click on them... just touch the square with the cursor)

http://flash.abunawaf.com/2005/12/game33.swf

famous99 — Thu, 04 Jan 2007 21:01:03 GMT

I was reading a librarian's blog and look at what today's entry was about!
The O.C.
She linked this...
Seth Cohen Starter Pack
If you want to read her entire entry... go to Pop Goes The Library: RIP, The O.C.

All About Family

famous99 — Mon, 01 Jan 2007 16:26:34 GMT

Happy New Year to one and all.
I'm hoping that 2007 brings health and happiness to my entire f-list.
But let's get down to business. We know you're really interested in the fic update!

Title: All About Family
Rating: PG
Summary: Ryan's Dad comes to Newport.
S4 with spoilers up to last week's episode.

Thank you to chazper for beta duties.
A reminder that I give credit to brandywine421's hurting Ryan fic: http://brandywine421.livejournal.com/369537.html for kick starting my muse.

They were all standing in the kitchen, preparing supper when the doorbell rang. Kirsten was at the stove stirring a meat sauce. Sandy was chopping tomatoes and cucumbers for the salad. Ryan was setting the table while Seth entertained them. When the bell loudly chimed in the kitchen, breaking into his thoughts, Ryan briefly wondered if it was Taylor ready to deliver her promise to him. So he quickly bolted from the kitchen to get to the door before Seth.

He eagerly yanked the door open only to find his father there. He looked older than Ryan imagined he would. More built and square. Yet at the same time he looked smaller. Ryan wondered if it was because he was full grown himself. When he thought about it, the last time he had seen his dad was when he was eight. All adults looked big and ominous in those days. Had his father ever been the scary man his mom and Trey had painted for him?

Frank was immaculately dressed, in a crisp black pin-striped suit, which to Ryan’s somewhat trained eye looked expensive. His white shirt was buttoned to the top, with a heavily starched collar and Frank wore a necktie. This wasn’t the blue-collar dad Ryan remembered. The one who wore faded jeans and rumpled tee shirts. The dad whose muscles rippled beneath the thin cotton fabric, silently threatening Trey and Ryan if they misbehaved or simply ticked him off for any small reason.

The two men wordlessly stared at each other for a few minutes. Finally, Ryan broke the silence. “Dad.” He breathed the word.

“Ryan.” Frank leaned in through the open doorway and enveloped his son in a hug.

It was at this moment that Seth came traipsing into the foyer, loudly proclaiming that “Mom and Dad want to know what’s keeping you and by the way dinner is about to be served.” Seth stopped when he noticed Ryan pulling out of an embrace with a man he didn’t know. “Ryan, you’ve been keeping something from me,” he remarked slyly.

Ryan rolled his eyes, momentarily forgetting to feel awkward as Seth acted like – well – Seth.

“Dad, this is Seth Cohen.” He didn’t know how to describe his relationship with Seth to his father. He couldn’t say brother and best friend seemed so lame somehow. “And Seth, this is… this is my…” Ryan was having difficulty shaping the last word in front of Seth. “This is my father,” he finally blurted out.

Seth leaned forward, extending his hand; his Newport breeding kicking into effect. “Pleased to meet you.”

Ryan scratched his head, because Seth sounded anything but pleased. But could Ryan blame him? Had the Atwoods ever been anything but trouble to the Cohen family?

“Why don’t you come in?” Seth offered. “We’re about to eat dinner. You’re more than welcome to join us. There’s always more than enough.”

Frank waved his hands in front of him. “I don’t mean to intrude on family time. I just wanted to see Ryan. I can always come back at a better time.” From inside his jacket pocket, Frank pulled out a small business card and pen and scribbled something on the back. “My number at the hotel,” he explained “Call me when you have a chance. I’ll be there for another week on business.”

Ryan took the card, the word “stay” caught in his throat. He didn’t want his father to go, yet he was afraid to invite him in. Memories of Trey assailed Ryan’s thoughts and somehow, he knew that it was his duty to keep Frank far away from the Cohens. While Ryan remained mute, Frank cheerfully waved good-bye and left, having barely taken more than a couple of steps into the Cohens’ foyer.

It was as if the world had momentarily stopped spinning, until Seth put an arm on Ryan’s shoulder. It made him jump, but he blinked his eyes rapidly a few times and took a brief moment to regain his composure. Then turning to his best friend/pseudo brother, Ryan plastered a smile on his face and with great enthusiasm said, “I hope dinner’s edible tonight. I’m starved.”

Ryan clutched at the business card as he entered the kitchen, the false cheer still painted on his face. He went straight for the table, ignoring or not hearing Kirsten’s suggestion that he wash up first.

“Who was at the door?” Sandy asked, immediately noticing Ryan’s stupor.

When Ryan didn’t answer, Seth filled in his father on the missing details. For a moment, his parents stared at him, stunned, before studying Ryan, whose eyes were fixed resolutely on the table. Then dinner was eaten in absolute silence.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

They’d barely finished clearing the kitchen for dinner, when the bell rang again, and Julie unceremoniously let herself in the front door. Sandy made a mental note to make sure the front door was locked more often, as he watched his wife’s business partner traipse through their house.

“Sandy. Kirsten,” she declared, “I have something important to discuss with you.” She looked pointedly at the boys and added, “In private.”

Ryan immediately muttered something about being in the pool house, undisturbed by Julie’s announcement. When Seth made no move to leave the kitchen, Kirsten suggested they talk in Sandy’s office, throwing a warning over her shoulder as they left the kitchen that Seth had better stay far away from the door.

When the three adults were barricaded in the confines of Sandy’s study, Julie heaved a deep breathe, her hands braced on the desk and blurted out, “Ryan’s father is in town. He’s been asking questions about Ryan and your family. I don’t trust him,” she declared.

Sandy felt like he’d been hit by a ton of bricks. He stumbled back, losing his balance, grateful when he felt Kirsten’s reassuring hand on the small of his back, keeping him balanced and upright. He scratched his neck, weighing his words carefully.

“We know Frank is in town. I recognized him at Bullit’s party. He showed up here tonight, and Ryan knows too.”

“Are you going to let him into Ryan’s life? I don’t trust him, Sandy.”

Sandy wondered when Julie had become Ryan’s ally and champion.

“Julie,” Kirsten interjected reasonably, “Ryan is legally an adult. We can’t stop him from reuniting with his father.”

“I don’t trust him. He lured me up to a hotel room under false pretenses,” the words came out of Julie’s mouth before she could think. Of course they made her sound like a slut, but better that than the truth, which was that she willing to whore herself to keep her very profitable prostitution ring under wraps. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. But that’s when he told me he was Ryan’s father and looking for information on your family. He deliberately got close to me, so he could ply me for information. He sounds shady.”

“He’s been in jail for ten years,” Kirsten agreed. “He’s probably very shady.”

“Marissa would want me to protect Ryan,” Julie said softly. “You know, she can’t now.”

Kirsten let go of Sandy’s arm and moved towards Julie to offer a touch of comfort. “We’ll all do our best to protect Ryan. We love him too much to let him get hurt again. He’s had enough hurt.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, Sandy thoughtfully chewed on a bunch of grapes, his choice for a midnight snack, wondering how involved he should be in this. His instincts told him to protect Ryan, who’d been through too much in his young life, yet he knew if he didn’t tread carefully, his motives would be misconstrued.

Deep down, Sandy wondered about his motivations. He’d encouraged Ryan to renew his relationship with Trey, though that had gone horribly wrong. And while tracking down Dawn for Ryan’s eighteenth birthday had been a debacle, having her come to his graduation had brought him lots of joy. She’d even tried to comfort him after Marissa’s death, but there had been no getting through to Ryan at that point, and she’d easily given up, avoiding contact with her youngest son, lest his troubles weigh her down and cause her to drink again.

Sandy sighed. The Atwoods had never been very good to or for Ryan. Why should Frank Atwood be any different? Julie’s announcement had added another layer of concern. Something didn’t sit right with him. Every bone in his body told him that his sixth sense was right; Frank Atwood would only hurt Ryan.

Ryan didn’t deserve anymore suffering. In eighteen years, the boy had more than his share. So how could Sandy play the father-figure he’d grown used to, without appearing to be a jealous SOB?

Check it out a fic from me!

famous99 — Thu, 28 Dec 2006 16:47:12 GMT

I can even revise my year in fic Meme to add something in December!
Title: All About Family
Rating: PG
Summary: S4 with spoilers up to last week's episode. And I'd summarize, but I'd lose some of the shock value of this chapter.

Thank you to chazper for beta duties. And I must give credit to brandywine421's hurting Ryan fic: http://brandywine421.livejournal.com/369537.html. The first line in her story gave me my muse and then the episode helped me carry it to - hopefully - some sort of story.
I'll also admit that I have no idea where I'm going with this.

They grounded Seth first. It seemed ridiculous to Seth that he be grounded at the age of eighteen and a high school graduate, nearly a college student. He made a point of informing his parents, but that didn’t seem to faze Sandy and Kirsten. They were worried about Seth’s behavior – he hadn’t come home drunk since high school – and the whole marijuana thing had sailed right over their heads. So this was their intervention to make sure Seth didn’t fall into the abyss. It was bad enough he was deferring college for a semester to stay in Newport with Summer, but at the very least it was time for Seth to start acting responsibly.

Even after Seth had listened to his parents’ reasoning, he didn’t quite believe they were serious. Until he tried to leave the house Saturday morning to meet Summer at the pier. But Kirsten stood impassively at the door, arms crossed against her chest, and an icy stare to go with it. It was reminiscent the Kirsten during her Newport Group days, cold and tough, not the Suzie Homemaker she had become after rehab.

“You’re really serious, aren’t you?” Seth had marveled, shaking his head and going back up to his room trying to figure out how he was going to explain this to Summer.

Ryan had watched from afar, chewing on his lips, to hide his amusement. He teased Seth mercilessly, always out of Sandy and Kirsten’s hearing. All the while, he had never imagined that he would fall victim to Sandy and Kirsten’s new Dr. Spock mode of parenting. But he had failed to let them know he’d be out all night at the Korean film festival with Taylor and they had worried when they realized the pool house was empty and the bed not slept in.

Considering how many times Seth had successfully covered for him while in high school, (Theresa and Sadie came to mind immediately), it was surprising that they would bother noticing now – when he was legally an adult and no longer their ward. Ryan tried to point this out to them, but Kirsten had crossed her arms and pursed her lips to show her displeasure. Sandy had rebuked him and reminded him that no matter what he was their son and part of their family. He’d blushed, embarrassed, because of course, he knew this. Somehow, over the summer while trying to find a way to deal with Marissa’s death he’d become more Cohen than he’d ever allowed himself to be in the three years of attending Harbor High and living in their house.

Grounded.

Seth wouldn’t stop teasing him. Not even a death glare or an idle threat about losing an appendage would stop the ribbing.

Then Ryan’s father showed up in Newport.

Asking Julie surreptitious questions about him and the Cohens.

Inching his way closer and closer to Ryan and hoping to make up for his ten year absence.

Threatening his relationship with Sandy Cohen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sandy didn’t know what to make of Frank Atwood’s arrival in Newport. He knew he had to tell Ryan immediately. Their relationship was built on trust and truths. Keeping something of this magnitude from Ryan, would set their relationship back years. Yet, Sandy wanted to know what Frank’s intentions were. Why was he in Newport and using another name? Why hadn’t he contacted Ryan immediately upon his release? Why hadn’t he contacted Ryan all those years in jail? It wasn’t like Frank didn’t know where Ryan was. The courts had insisted Frank know where Ryan was being placed when Dawn first abandoned her son.

It was around the New Year and the discovery of Frank Perry Atwood – whatever his name was – that he and Kirsten had started to discuss the boys’ behavior. Despite the fact that they were legally adults, both boys still had a lot of growing up to do. Many of their actions were more worrisome now that they weren’t in high school.

Sandy knew it was natural for kids Seth’s age to drink, even though it wasn’t legal. His college years were deeply ingrained in his memory. But he and Kirsten had agreed they wanted to let Seth and Ryan know that they were watching and aware and that they cared. Perhaps they hadn’t been watching, caring and aware enough when the boys were still in high school. But it was never too late.

And while Sandy tried to deny it, he couldn’t ignore the little niggling thought in the back of his mind that said he wanted to assert his paternal role in Ryan’s life before he told him about Frank’s release from prison.

~~~~~~~

“You’ve been a very bad boy,” Taylor teased over the phone.

Ryan was stretched out on his bed, fully dressed, except for his boots, which he had kicked off before calling Taylor. He smiled at the coquettish tone on the other end of the phone, trying to ignore the stirrings in his pants, but unable to. Did grounding mean he couldn’t invite Taylor into the pool house? It would otherwise be a very long weekend and a very inauspicious start to 2007.

“I should come over to show you my displeasure,” she continued.

Ryan could picture the way her tongue lolled in her mouth and over her lips, when she teased him like that. He imagined her playing with the ends of her hair, twirling it around her fingers, as she absently did in the rare moments when her mouth wasn’t running off faster than her mind.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Ryan teased.

“Both,” she retorted.

“What time should I expect you?”

“Oh, naughty boys should never know what time their punishment will come. I’ll be there when I come.”

“Just do it soon,” he begged, trying to push the dirty thoughts out of his mind. Otherwise, he would have to spend the rest of the afternoon, until Taylor came, under a cold stream of water.

Ryan hung up the phone, wondering how long Taylor would keep him waiting, when he saw Sandy lurking at the pool house door. He wondered if he was in for another lecture. He thought he’d heard more than enough considering the minor offense, but sometimes Sandy needed to espouse and he wasn’t going to deny his foster father. Besides, he’d learned to tune out Sandy as effectively as he tuned out Seth.

“Sorry to bother you,” Sandy said as Ryan motioned for him that it was okay to enter the pool house. “I just had something to discuss.”

The first thing Ryan noticed was how uncomfortable Sandy looked. It usually took only a moment for Sandy to find the chair he wanted to sit in or the vantage point in which he wanted to lecture. Instead, Sandy was looking at his feet and avoiding Ryan’s gaze.

“Is everything okay?” Ryan’s stomach dropped to his toes. “Did you hear something? About my mom? Or Trey?” He wasn’t sure why his thoughts turned to them immediately.

“Actually,” Sandy faltered, relieved to have an opening, “It’s about Frank, your father.”

Ryan stood stone still until the words registered in his mind and took shape. He screwed up his face in confusion. “My father? I haven’t heard from him or about him in years.”

“I know. But I’m pretty sure I met him at Bullitt’s New Year’s party. He introduced himself as Frank Perry.”

It felt like everything around Ryan had stopped. He even thought he had skipped a breathe. “My dad’s out of jail?”

“I made a few calls, using some of my connections with the PD office and it seems like your dad was released last month. He’s out on parole. I put in a call to his parole officer, but the guy never called me back.”

Ryan drummed his fingers against his jeans. Thoughts of Taylor were long gone from his mind. It suddenly felt if like a heavy weight was pressing on him and he was walking under water. Everything was just confused and muddled. His dad was out of prison and in Newport.

“What does he want?”

“I don’t know.” Sandy finally pulled up a chair and sat down. He motioned for Ryan to take a seat, but didn’t press when his ward refused. “What do you want? Do you want to see him? I – I never really asked you about your father.”

Ryan looked at Sandy with a vacant stare. “Yeah, I want to see him. He’s my dad.”

“Okay.” Sandy swallowed hard, trying to push away his disappointment and slapped the tops of his thighs as he got up. “I’ll call up Bullit and see if he can help me find Frank. I’ll make sure you see him.” What had he expected that Ryan deny his father simply because Sandy had tried to assume a paternal role in Ryan’s life? Neither he nor Kirsten had asked Ryan to deny his family when he had entered theirs.

As it turned out, there was no need for Sandy to make any calls. Frank showed up at the Cohen’s door before they sat down to dinner.