fredsmith518

Dr Who

2013-11-23T21:33:17Z

Have been watching lots of the specials these last weeks, hugely impressed.
Dr Who was a large part of my childhood and it is very cool to see it being so celebrated - go BBC Cymru!

anonymous gift

2010-10-08T15:22:19Z

thank you for the Yorkie, was a sweet surprise to find, logging on unexpectedly
if 'anon' chooses would appreciate a pm as to who...
have a good weekend all

One of Mel's prompts

2009-12-12T12:09:48Z

Title: Obvious at end
Author: fredsmith518
Beta: none, errors all mine as ever
Rating: tame
Disclaimer: Nothing owned, no monetary profit made.
167 words

She raised her wrist and consulted her watch. She was exactly two minutes early. She sighed a little. Would it hurt them to be ready on time – for once? She shook her head. She had no reason to let it rattle her composure. She settled down on the sofa to wait. She cast an expert eye over the décor, sometimes she couldn’t help channelling her mother’s influence. Beige walls made the perfect backdrop for the framed prints. It was surprisingly tasteful, she decided, including the fanned arrangement of the reading material on the coffee. One of the titles caught her eye. She felt a funny sort of excitement build. It wasn’t something she would have thought to buy for herself, but this opportunity had fallen in her lap.

Half an hour later, her legs tucked up beneath her, her lips moving as she read, she felt a tear fall. She sniffed. This wasn’t the way she’d have written the story. Angel deserved to get the girl!

tags side bar

2009-12-08T23:38:05Z

I messed with my account and the tags sidebar has gone...does anyone know if I can fix that? Please?

Moral, don't fiddle with stuff late at night

nothing for ages, then 2 buses come along at once...

2009-12-07T22:05:06Z

Title: Candle
Author: fredsmith518
Beta: none, errors all mine as ever
Rating: tame
Disclaimer: Nothing owned, no monetary profit made.
Summary Taylor in Paris, alone Christmas 2010

This wasn’t the place that she’d had expected to find herself in on Christmas Eve and it wasn’t as if she could claim to have darted in, on impulse, to avoid the rain. It was cold, wet and windy, but all those steps, slippery, stone steps, couldn’t have been negotiated in her heels without complete awareness of her surroundings. She’d known where she been headed: she just hadn’t been able to figure out why, still didn’t understand her choice. Her smooth brow furrowed.

As the last notes diminished, she shivered slightly, less from cold than from emotion. She’d found no comfort in the words or the music, beautiful as it had been. She hadn’t expected to. The last time that she’d been present at a mass, it had been her wedding to Henri Michael, enough, said, thought, whatever. The building, of itself, was beyond lovely, the exquisite windows, the amazing roof, both were worthy of contemplation for hours – but not by her, not that night.

From habit, she scanned the crowd as they filed out, families, the elderly, men, but predominantly women, a surprising number of single professionals, suited and brief cased, a myriad emotions, smiles, tears, frowns graced their faces.

Sighing softly, refusing to even think about her own horrendously mixed emotions, she stood to leave, but her attention was drawn to an array of candles, wicks flickering, but withstanding the draft from the doorway.

She approached, paid and lit a candle, feeling the warm glow from the others against her face as she stood contemplating her flame.

Hope The word whispered through her mind with no clear context, but she took it to herself and smiled.

inspired by photos posted on my flist. thank you!

One of Mel's prompts

2009-12-07T20:20:23Z

Title: Will become apparent!
Author: fredsmith518
Beta: none, errors all mine as ever
Rating: tame
Disclaimer: Nothing owned, no monetary profit made.

She frowned, squinted and tried pushing the offending item further away from her in the hope that some magical transformation might take place. She tilted it, one way, then the other, not an iota of an improvement. She clamped down hard on the impulse to dash it away, or, more satisfyingly, pound it to death, since into submission so wasn’t happening. Defeated, she sank back onto her heels. Five hours she’d spent on this, and proto-types, and much detritus, littered the floor around her. At least this one was half right, which thought of itself provoked a sigh.

It was such a small thing in the overall scheme, but she’d wanted it be perfect. In her mind’s eye, the process had been simple, and her plan had worked – on the one side. That was the most aggravating aspect, why hadn’t symmetrical co-operated?

The front door opened and shut, footsteps hurried in her direction, accompanied by excited questions.

“Didja have time, Mommy? Is it finished?”

Sophie ground to a stunned halt, her mouth rounded, her eyes wide. Kirsten smiled gamely as she held it up for inspection.

“Mommy!” Sophie’s voice was hushed, and…pleased? Really, really pleased. She managed to smile and bite her bottom lip at the same time, before exclaiming, “You made Small One ears! I’m gonna be Small One Donkey! You’re so clever. I didn’ know you could make real Small One ears! I love you, Mommy!”

“Love you too, Baby, so much.” And not least for your ability to find a good in things that haven’t turned out quite as they had been intended.

Sophie leaned in for a swift hug. Behind her, Sandy smirked. Kirsten threw him a warning glance.

“Can I try ‘em one?”

“Sure, that’s what they’re waiting for.”

Kirsten fitted the headband on and Sophie, beaming, turned around to show Sandy.

“Amazing! Best donkey ears ever!”

“Small One ears!”

“Sorry, my bad. Small One ears.”

“I’m gonna go look in the mirror.”

“Good plan.”

“Don’t you dare laugh!” Kirsten hissed once Sophie was out of the door and down the hallway. However her own lips were beginning to twitch.

“Small One ears?” he asked. His attempt to make it sound like an innocent question wholly failing.

“Yeah, well,” Kirsten conceded. “Wasn’t the original plan. She was so thrilled to be asked to take part, so I wanted to make her costume and I admit, I figured she’d go for a sheep and sheep ears don’t have the same issues.”

His smirk widened at the ‘ sheep ear issues’ and she stood and pushed at him lightly, before continuing, “But you have to adapt in life, huh?”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Absolutely, sweetheart. I think we’ve done our best work that way.”

Brought to you by personal experience, years passed of the problems of making donkey ears stand up, envy at donkey ears seen this year made by covering antlers on headband, so clever, and viewing of said video, Small One with a new crop of children

Apologies for the sap, and thanks to Mel for the prompt….now if I can just remember how to post and to link…

NCIS

2009-09-14T20:56:19Z

A request.
Could anyone in the US beta a short probably 1,000 words ish NCIS piece for me in the next couple of weeks?

thank you

2008-12-26T10:08:35Z

Heart felt thanks to 'anonymous' for the polar bear.
He was a lovely surprise to end Christmas day.

Diolch o galon!

Dreidel, actual OC fic

2008-12-18T22:48:51Z

Dreidel, nothing owned

I feel like a spinning top or a dreidel…the spinning don’t stop when you leave the cradle

The words of the song floated out the door from the kitchen. Her attention switched from the paper on her lap to the words of the song. Her mom had had that album, vinyl. She’d played it continuously one summer. She hadn’t understood then, how the words must have spoken to her mother – she sure as hell did now.

How you gonna keep on turning from day to day? How you gonna keep from spinning your life away?

It was so damn easy to get caught up in stuff, in work, in committees and never settle, constant motion engaged.

Her hands rested lightly on her stomach. Not any more.

song words from Don Maclean Dreidel for full lyric.

pudding and miracle, Buffyverse fic, okay, so Spike

2008-12-18T22:27:24Z

Thanks to Mel for the prompts, I just really liked the juxtaposition these 2 words suggested

nothing owned

“Wot? It was Darla you got up the duff? In the puddin’ club? I don’t bloody believe it!”

That last was a blatant lie. The whole thing made a terrible twisted sense – considering the way the universe liked to play with vampires, now you’re dead, now you’re not.

“So this ‘Connor’, he’s lost his memory of being your get? Lucky sod…”

“Of being my son.” Angel’s terse reply was matched by the increasingly tense expression on his face.

Spike didn’t miss the emphasis, knew exactly how pissed Angel was by his comments, knew, ignored.

“So, basically, you’re saying he’s a ‘miracle child’, yeah?” he goaded.

“I’m saying he is the best thing that ever happened to me and I don’t want your comments, your insights about him. I don’t want you anywhere near him. He is nothing to do with you. Basically, I don’t want you… even thinking about him. Forget you heard anything about him. Understood?” Angel ground out the words.

Spike weighed up his options. Hating being ordered about, on principle, he didn’t deign to acknowledge Angel’s question. Instead, he prevaricated, patting down his pockets to locate his lighter, not that he intended to light up, not the point. On the other hand, smoking a fag, accidentally sending the smoke towards the sprinkler system…Spike eyed up the possibility.

Angel turned away. Subconsciously, Spike relaxed a notch, failed to anticipate, and found himself trapped, Angel’s broad hands encircling his neck, just enough pressure applied to bruise Spike’s larynx, any harder and the damage would become serious.

need my voice, no choice now, shouldn’t have bloody let him get the drop on me, pratt!

“Made your point,” Spike wheezed out. He shrugged in loue of true acquiescence and Angel’s hands dropped away to hang heavy by his side.

Spike squared his shoulders and sent Angel the most obnoxious grin he could dredge up, then walked away, reviewing the confrontation.

‘don’t want you…’. Bastard knew exactly what he was doing putting in that pause, knew it would rankle.

Trick was, as ever, to show nothing, to move past it.

Trey still, Punch

2008-12-15T22:14:45Z

Another drabble in the ongoing Trey 'verse
Punch

His mind was spinning around in ever increasing circles. This feeling was like nothing he’d previously experienced: worse than a punch to the head, a more all-encompassing confusion that had taken all conscious thought away. He shook his head to try and realign his world.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked finally, needing to make sure that he’d heard her right.

“That’s what I said.” Her voice was calm, but he knew her well enough by then to be able to detect a hint of excitement, bubbling underneath. She was pleased: he was certain.

She looked at him squarely, not flinching or twitching when he returned her stare and then some. Rather, her expression was serene. He’d expected, feared to hear those words so many times over the years, but coming from her mouth they were a gift, a confirmation of her feeling for him: she wanted this child – his child. She wanted him.

Slowly a smile spread over his face. He stood and went over to embrace her. He should say something, he realized.

“Yeah?” he breathed into her hair.

“Yeah,” she confirmed once more.

His world-view shifted. He was going to be a father. He would have a family.

Pen-blwydd hapus, Cheekymice!

2008-12-15T07:49:42Z

Happy birthday, Cheeky, hope you have a brilliant day
Love from us both xx

Snowflake, Torchwood again

2008-12-14T21:31:05Z

Torchwood drabble, possibly occurring the same night as Holly
,nothing owned

She was dog-tired. They’d averted another crisis. The citizens of Cardiff, and the rest of the world, had survived to live another day, without knowing that they had ever been in peril. Just the way the team liked it. No loose ends.

She parked the car, hunching her shoulders against the cold. She squinted at her mobile, almost 7:30, nearly dawn. Gwen huffed, yet again she’d be getting home just as Rhys was leaving for work, no time for a cuddle, let alone a bit of hanky-panky.

Caught in the beam of the street light, she saw a single white flake fall. She couldn’t help but grin. Cold as she was, she stuck out her gloved hand and caught the next. On impulse, she stuck out her tongue and sure enough a snowflake landed. She giggled.

Strong arms embraced her. His face muzzled against hers.

“Knew you’d be doing that!” he laughed and spun her round to face him.

“Think we’ll get a snow day?”

“That’d be nice.”

She smiled at his enthusiasm, at the suggestive leer in his voice.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get back last night.”

“Hey! None of that now. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, no worries.”

The flakes were swirling down faster and faster. The pavement had already disappeared. A light frosting covered Rhys’s hair and eyebrows.

“Got time for a cuppa before work?”

“Yep, and fingers crossed for a day off.”

He wound his arm around her waist and they walked the few remaining metres to their door.

Flame and party

2008-12-09T20:34:56Z

Erm, wrong order, word count a bit off, still with Trey, this would be the earliest part of this 'verse, Trey meeting Elena.

Flame

He’d sat nursing the same drink for over an hour, taking cautious sips, keeping his gaze down, inviting no trouble. He’d been in Vegas for just over three months. The events that had propelled him from Newport still dominated his thoughts, and dictated his actions. ‘Coke’ as in ‘Cola’, who the hell would have thought it?

He’d shocked himself, hadn’t thought that he was capable of screwing over the only person who had ever cared about him so thoroughly. ‘Moth to a flame’, that kid. He would only have to reach out and Ryan would be there to help him. This time was gonna be different. He wasn’t gonna ask.

He was gonna make it by himself. He was.

His eyes flicked up. A girl, standing by the bar, was smiling at him. He grinned back.

Party

“You come here often?” she asked, dimpling at him prettily.

She reminded him of Theresa Diaz, all soft, dark curls and melting brown eyes. He hadn’t been looking to hook up, to party. There wasn’t time or space or cash to support a relationship and somehow she didn’t look like a one-night stand.

“No,” he said, “first time tonight.”

“I’ve seen you around,” she said, surprising him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I work at the clinic down the street?”

He nodded. A nurse then, maybe, or a receptionist. Like he thought, a nice girl – too good for him.

fredsmith518 @ 2008-12-08T20:56:00

2008-12-08T20:58:16Z

Inspired once more by Chaz’s fic, this time, Latkes

Somehow, I seem to have got an ongoing ‘verse, inspired by Chaz, with Trey and a partner. This one falls between Star and Star 2…

Wise

“No, you mix it like this! Otherwise, you’re gonna get lumps.”

She moved in close to adjust his grip on the whisk, pressing her body against his back. He took a deep breath.

“Or, we could forget the cooking lesson?” He modulated his voice to emit his most seductive drawl.

She swatted at him with her free hand.

“If you would pay attention, we could move onto…other stuff…quicker.”

“Hmm, other stuff. I like the sound of that. You sure we can’t just skip the cooking? Who needs to eat?”

“We do,” she said firmly. “What is it with you? How’d you manage on your own all these years without learning to cook the basics?”

He tensed up, couldn’t help the automatic response triggered by a reference to his past. He'd told her the short version: he’d admitted to his time in Juvie, in jail. He didn't talk about his family.

“I’m sorry,” she said, contrite in the face of his silence. She laid her head against his shoulder and rubbed her other hand up and down his arm. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You don’t, you didn’t…I, my little brother, he was the cook…I never took the time to learn.”

“Well, I guess you decided to wise up, huh?”

Yeah he thought, as he turned to look at her, and place a kiss on her beautiful, open face, finally, I did.

Second part to Star drabble and Reindeer

2008-12-06T14:04:20Z

Inspired by Chaz's Reindeer

Star revisited

“And Mommy’s special wishing star goes right there.”

She looked up at him solemnly.

“Is it real?” she breathed, old enough this year to understand the significance of the name.

He crouched down to her level. Guessing his intent, she lifted up her arms immediately. Her head nestled into his shoulder, soft, brown curls tickled at his cheek. She reached out her hand and spun the star.

“Do the wishes come real?”

He glanced across the room where his partner stood, smiling so sweetly at him. Five years and counting.

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s real, wish hard.”

She closed her eyes: he held his breath.

Reindeer

“So Santa comes and takes the cookies?”

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

“And we leave the carrot for Rudolph?”

“Uhuh.”

“What about the ofer reindeers?”

He paused, momentarily flummoxed: she was a smart one, his kid. Across the room, leaning in the doorway, his partner grinned, lifting her eyebrows at him, giving no help whatsoever.

“That is such a good question. Uh, you know what? Rudolph shares, each house leaves a carrot and so he has plenty for the other guys.”

“Vat’s nice,” she lisped as her eyes fell shut.

He kissed her forehead and pulled the covers up tight about her. “Sleep well.”

“I think you care that she continues to believe more than I do,” Elena whispered fondly, catching his arm to pull him to her .

“I think you’re right,” he acknowledged, winding his arms around her waist, feeling the faint thickening. “I have some making up to do.”

Maybe next year.

For brandywine421, Post season 4 finale fic

2008-12-06T11:52:28Z

Response to Brandy's challenge and written for her...it's short and somewhat sappy, actually, a lot sappy.

Response to this picture

Also something of a companion piece to Father

A child's eye

“An’ vat’s my spesal one and vat’s Ewe’s…”

The little boy moved his finger over the paper, pointing first to the blue bauble and then to the pink. The blue one was larger too – the kid obviously had a sound sense of his own importance. The child’s voice faltered: he frowned, his small forehead wrinkling, his lips pursed. He glared for a moment at the drawing and then his expression cleared, defaulting to his habitable sunny countenance.

“An’ Mowe’s is woun’ the back,” he declared firmly.

“Okay,” the adult encouraged.

“An’ fere’s Mawe and Choe and baby Chesis.”

The small finger continued to move over the picture, picking out each part and then looking up for parental approbation – which he received in the form of indulgent smiles.

“An’ fere’s Wudof.”

No question the kid was related to Seth, that reindeer had pride of place in the manger scene. The watcher stifled a chuckle.

“And over here?” Ryan asked, pointing to the creatures on the other side of the tree. Sandy had been wondering about those too.

The child graced his father with a classic, ’are you serious?’ look, highly reminiscent of Seth at the same age – or, now, actually. The look given by a child who possesses complete faith in parental response.

“Vat’s Simba and Simba’s witul boy wion! See, fe daddy wion has a mane!…and fe witul boy wion has a witul mane.”

“Of course they do, silly Daddy. I should have guessed. That’s a great picture, Connor, thank you for telling me all about it. It's great that you put in so much special stuff.”

The child beamed and snuggled in closer to his father. Ryan squeezed his shoulder and then ruffled the boy’s short blond hair. Sandy could practically see Connor’s pride puffing up.

“I’s’ fer Ganma Kertin and Ganpa Sandy.”

“And Grandpa Sandy thinks it’s fantastic too,” Sandy said stepping forward from his vantage point in the doorway. “You wanna go show Granma Kirsten?”

“Yeah!”

Connor raced off, card clutched securely in his fingers.

“So, we have another artist on our hands?”

“Look like it.”

Sandy could hear the pride in Ryan’s voice. He sighed over dramatically.

“Kirsten, Seth, you, Sophie, Ellie, now Connor.” He tallied each name off on his fingers. “All able to draw. No-one in this family appreciates the simple elegance of stick figures.” He grinned. “There’s always Molly and Jacob to follow in my footsteps.”

Ryan quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, so maybe not.

“You’re so good at that,” he couldn’t help but add, “letting the kids know how special they are, encouraging their talents.”

“Right back atcha,” Ryan replied softly.

Star

2008-12-05T17:18:56Z

This one is inspired by chazper's Star .

Star

He wasn’t sure how he felt. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to ‘get in touch with his feelings’ anyway. He wasn’t sure how permanent this arrangement was gonna be.

She smiled at him. With a gentle flick of her finger, she spun the silver star around on the branch, light reflecting off the mirrored surface. It was mesmerizing. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Make a wish,” she coaxed, “We always did when I was a kid, didn’t you?”

Hell, no, he thought. “Not my thing,” he said as he pulled her to him, his smile broadening, his expression softening…there was always a first time, right?

sorry, I should have added the 'who', but as ever, I like the different interpretations

Gakked from enigmaticblues

2008-12-04T21:04:44Z

On the twelfth day of Christmas, fredsmith518 sent to me...

Twelve brandywine421s drumming

Eleven katwoman76s piping

Ten mirella67s a-leaping

Nine erynnbeths dancing

Eight joey51s a-milking

Seven georgleys a-swimming

Six hesadevilspikes a-laying

Five cto-o-o-oans

Four teachertams

Three avoidingnemos

Two oc_gambit2s

...and a LiveJournal meme in a pear tree.

Eggnog, Buffyverse, yes, I know I'm missing the point...

2008-12-03T23:04:30Z

Somewhere, I am pretty sure I have read the Advocat ref to eggnog in this verse, however, I can't remember where or anything more than that...

“So, egg? nog? You sure that’s what they call it?”

He took a deep sniff.

“Looks like Advocat to me, mate, smells like it too.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Bloody stupid drink if you ask me! Looks like…”

“Quite, I really don’t need you to finish that thought. I shudder to think what analogy you will find. No one’s forcing you to drink.”

“Oi! Geroff! Keep yer mitts to yerself, watcher! Beggars and choosers and all that crap. Chin, chin."

He gulped the liquid down in one mouthful, barely tasting it, because it had been given to him, damnit. It was his.

Holly, erm, Torchwood, oops?

2008-12-03T19:19:29Z

I've been toying with the idea of writing a bit of Torchwood fic for a while. Mel's prompt was the perfect opportunity.

Drabble below cut

Dawel nos, sanctaidd yw'r nos. Cwsg a gerdd waun a rhos,

the familiar words drifted in through the cracked window, lilting, haunting as ever. The air was crisp and cool, or bitter cold, depending on one’s inclination. She chaffed her gloved hands and stamped her booted feet softly, trying to return some circulation to her frozen extremities. Although, her attention should be focused on the building opposite, she couldn’t resist a quick look towards the familiar chapel, light spilling out of the stained glass windows. Inside she could picture the congregation wrapped up to the nines, to say the place was draughty was a vast understatement, Siberian cold was more like it – she shuddered in remembered chill. If you were lucky and stood close enough, a little warmth leeched out from the Advent ring of candles and holly, and lit the faces around with a rosy hue.

She blinked. Just off to the side of the pulpit would be the crib with its elderly statues, Joseph’s hand slightly chipped, Mary’s clothing faded to grey rather than blue, the holy child his hands raised in supplication.

She saw Mamgu taking her into the chapel as a kid when she went to ready the place for the Advent season. How she’d let her help set up the tableau. She remembered how special she felt to be trusted with something so precious. She’d been a serious little girl, always paying attention, never a one to let things slip through her fingers. She’d done Mamgu proud, earning a smile and a bag of golden coins in a net bag and the promise that’s she could help again the next year. Such a good girl, our Gwen, hogen dda wyt.

If things had panned out as she’d planned this evening, if, just for once, the universe had co-operated, not revolted, she’d have been sitting in one of those pews, letting the ancient words spill over the sore spots of her soul, Owen, Tosh ,instead of catching intermittent snatches, almost at random.

Cwst mewn gwynfyd a hedd ...

She sighed: she knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be. Her place was to preserve the peace.

The carol is Silent Night, the words convey the same sense as the English, more or less, hedd=peace, hence a play on words, Mamgu= South Walian form of Grandma, 'hogen dda wyt' 'a good girl you'

Glitter, late, late, late

2008-12-02T21:44:42Z

Glitter
He looks around the room, stealing a moment to stand and observe. Kirsten’s adding the finishing touches to a plate of home baked cookies: her gaze is intense. Sandy’s reading an article the newspaper, sighing and muttering under his breath by turns, fully engaged with the print. Seth, smiling is doodling on a scrap of paper, Summer’s face is forming: he is miles away with her.

Sophie sits, entranced: she twists a bauble in her delicate fingers, cooing at the glitter of her reflection.

No one speaks, each is self involved at present but still they are together: they fit.

Promises 2, All lies and jests, epilogue

2008-11-29T13:18:19Z

Title: Promises 2, Epilogue
Author: fredsmith518
Beta: loracj and the fic is all the better for her efforts, but all errors are mine as I fiddled.
Rating: teen
Disclaimer: Nothing owned, no monetary profit made.
Summary: This fic is the sequel to Promises, however the timeline is a tad complex as I didn’t write in a sensible, linear order.

Many thanks to all who have read and put up with my strange ordering. Many thanks for all comments received and a final thank you to loracj for all her hard work. The fic sounds so much better for her efforts. It reads better too.

And a final word of thanks to chapzer for the prompt that started all this and to brandywine421 for the AU challenge that the prompt was written for and the generous extra feedback they have both provided which helped the fic along and the ideas to flow.

1. Promises, the original fic inspired by chapzer’s prompt Ryan overhears Sandy asking Kirsten if he made a mistake bringing him home.to brandywine421’s AU challenge, AU challenge

2. Interludes 1- 4

3. Promises 2, All lies and jests

4. Epilogue to Promises 1 and 2.

5. ’Iinterlude’, Ryan with Alice.

6. Finally, here, the epilogue.

Promises 2, All lies and jests? Epilogue

The air was pleasantly warm, enabling Ryan to run back along the beach at a steady pace. Reaching the path that led up to the house, he went through his standard set of stretches then paused. After taking a rest at the other end of his run by sitting with Sandy, his usual routine was to go back up to the house to shower, but today he decided to take a moment to contemplate the ocean, enjoying the view. Summer vacation had just started. He was relishing the idea of a break from homework and the opportunity to get a job and earn some money. Working outside would be ideal. Maybe he should ask at one of the cafés that dotted the seafront. He’d enjoyed bussing tables at the Crab Shack again last year, but he was looking for something different.

Wisps of cloud skittered about the sky, blown by a faint breeze. The sand was just beginning to warm, and he idly let the grains drizzle through his fingers. Mulling over his choices, he surveyed the beach around him: a young couple strolling the sand carrying a baby with two toddlers in tow, an older woman walking her dog, stooping to throw a stick, whistling to the dog to return, catching the animal by the collar as the young family passed.

He squinted at a guy further down the beach. It was difficult to make out what he was doing at first, but once he did, it was like a ‘light bulb’ moment. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of it before. Energized by his idea, he stood, giving his clothes a perfunctory brush down, then raced back up the path and made a beeline for the garage.

As always, the mess made him wince slightly. What that garage really needed was everything hauled out, then to sort and re-file, with a clear system and labels. He mentioned the idea to Sandy more than once. The man had shaken his head slightly as he’d responded with a smile,

“Kid, it’s not that bad. But there are way better things for you to spend your time on. As long as we can find the stuff we need, it’ll do.”

Admittedly, the clutter down the sides of the garage was fairly easy to assess. However, way at the back, there were several items covered up with old drapes. They looked as though they hadn’t been disturbed in years. If Ryan was going to find the item he sought, his gut told him that was where he would find it. He felt a flicker of excitement as he lifted the edge of the first drape. He grinned.

It was crazy. It couldn’t work. Could it? It just might. Ryan’s mind was filled with the possibilities as he strode across to the house and practically shouted, “Seth! I need your help.”

Seth blinked in surprise as he looked up from the latest addition of ‘The Amazing Adventures of Spiderman’. He bit at his lip, looked down again at the comic in his hands. His fingers twitched. He asked, “Help as in what? One minute, five, ten, longer? In the house? Outside?”

“Outside…for… I have no clue how long.”

Ryan was aware that his voice sounded slightly manic, but he couldn’t help it. The idea had built, almost to bursting. He now had the means to try and find Kirsten’s ring and he couldn’t wait to get started. But this time he wasn’t leaving on his own. He wanted Seth along with him. If they left a note to say that they had gone out together, the Cohens wouldn’t worry. He didn’t want any associations with the last debacle.

Seth put the comic down – carefully. “I admit - you have me interested.”

“I was just in the garage, and I found a metal detector.”

“Yeah.” Seth’s lips quirked up. “I used to think I could use it to find buried treasure on the beach, but all I ever found was some loose change. Dad humored me. Actually, about that, I used to make up some excellent stories. With more encouragement, I could’ve written Pirates of the Caribbean. Can you imagine Summer dressed as a pirate?”

Seth ‘s eyes took on the look Ryan associated with comic book doodlings. Quickly, he cut in, determined to get Seth back on track.

“I was thinking, we could go to where I lost Kirsten’s ring and search the lot. I figured we could tape out sections. It’s worth a shot.”

Ryan saw Seth hesitate and his hopes for a joint expedition faltered. “It’s fine. I can do it by myself.” He turned to go.

“Did I say no? Did I? It’s just….like I said, I only found loose change.”

“But you never know. We COULD find it. Your mom would be so pleased.”

Seth squinted. “So what you’re saying is you want to get me equal credit, huh? That’s very big of you, Ryan. Maybe Mom would consider some sort of a reward? Maybe a car, d’you think? Speaking of, please tell me we have transport.”

Ryan smiled. For a moment, he’d thought that Seth was going to bail on him.

Ryan had patiently sectioned out the part of the lot he thought most likely, but after a few hours, all they had was a collection of coins, hardly enough for an order of chilli fries. They were hot and sticky and Seth’s movements were becoming more and more exaggerated, accompanied by some heavy, drawn out sighs.

“Maybe we should call it a day, huh?”

Ryan frowned. He understood Seth’s frustration and his own back ached from the continual stooping, first to lay the tape and second to check out the ‘finds’. Each time the detector beeped, he couldn’t help feeling a stab of optimism, but disappointment after disappointment was dampening his faith. Seth had been humoring him from the start.

Ryan sighed. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

“We could widen the search a little further. What have we got to lose?”

“A few more hours of our lives? A few more inches off of our stature as our spinal vertebrae compress from the constant bending? And you, my friend, can’t spare the inches!”

Ryan aimed a half-hearted swipe at Seth who dodged back. He tried again to find the words to get through to Seth how important this was to him.

“I really wanna do this, man. Your mom has been so nice to me. It kills me that Trey took something that mattered to her. That he had to choose that ring, the one that was her mom’s.”

“I hear you, bro. And in principle, I’m with you one hundred percent, it’s just…” Seth gestured helplessly at the rest of the lot. They’d barely covered half of it. “I mean, it was dark, are we even sure it fell here someplace? You’ve got a mean right hand.”

“Yeah, I know, but I couldn’t really throw it. It was more like letting it go.”

Ryan couldn’t help but let some of his own frustration bleed through in his tone.

“How about we go get something to eat and come back?”

“There’s still some water and power bars in the Rover.”

Seth shrugged less than enthusiastically. “Maybe we could have a time limit? Say another hour?”

Ryan wanted to disagree, but knew that he was becoming unreasonable. Just because he wanted something to happen didn’t make it likely. It wasn’t as if life hadn’t taught him that lesson over and over. Ryan squared his jaw. He was done with ‘Atwood luck’. He was making his own choices. Getting the ring back with Seth’s help was becoming part of something much bigger.

“One hour,” Ryan agreed.

“Aren’t you meeting Taylor tonight?” Seth asked. “You’ll need to wash up. I think we have the grime of ages here.” He punctuated his words by slapping ineffectually at the layer of dust that had adhered to his jeans.

“No,” said Ryan evenly. “I’m not seeing Taylor tonight. She’s going out to see some French movie. I am, however seeing her tomorrow.” Ryan smiled.

Having a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship with Taylor Townsend was a new development. One that Ryan very much liked. They dated a little the previous year, but Ryan had had enough issues on his plate when he’d gotten back into contact with Trey. Taylor had been gracious enough to understand, and they’d stayed friends. She’d known all about his therapy sessions. She’d come along to have his back when he’d finally summoned the courage to admit to the Cohens that when he’d been caught with Trey in the parking lot, one of the bad guys had had a gun. Ever since he’d confessed it to Alice, he’d known the day was coming when he’d have to tell Sandy and Kirsten.

As Ryan had expected, they were both stunned by his revelation: Kirsten had blanched and Sandy hadn’t looked much better.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys before, but it was already so bad…But I should have. I know that now. If I don’t tell you stuff…it festers.”

“Taylor, could you give us a moment please?” Sandy’d asked.

She’d nodded, giving him a smile as she’d turned to go. “Good night, Mr. Cohen, Mrs. Cohen.”

“Taylor, wait, isn’t your mom out of town?”

“Yes, she’s visiting friends in Cabo.”

“Oh, honey, you should stay and eat with us.” Kirsten had turned to Sandy and he’d followed her lead.

“Ryan, you know what? I think we’ve covered most of this ground before. Bottom line? I’m glad you finally told us all of it, kid.” He’d paused then added, “That is all of it, right?”

Ryan had held his gaze steady as he looked at Sandy. “Yeah, I promise.”

Sandy’d nodded slightly and Ryan had been able to see that the older man trusted him and accepted his word. He felt another weight lifted. If they’d needed to talk more, they would have plenty of opportunities when they met up in the mornings.

Sandy didn’t get to surf every day, but he was always there when Ryan ran. Ryan had been beyond pleased that Sandy had kept that routine in place, even though Ryan was now over the worst of his anxieties. It gave Ryan a space in the week when he knew that Sandy’s attention was solely focused on him, when he could share anything he wanted from his sessions with Alice. Sandy had become a good listener, but he wasn’t afraid to share his thoughts either. Ryan knew that he benefited from the man’s insights and the fact that Sandy’s words always pointed Ryan in the same direction as Alice’s gentle questions – that he was valued for himself now and needed to see that although he hadn’t had that growing up, the fault had never been his.

Ryan was getting there. Case in point, that evening, his face had fallen into a half smile. He’d pushed his luck. “Is it okay if we go out for a walk before dinner?”

“It’ll be on the table in about half an hour.”

“If’d known we’d be having such charming company, I’da broken out the grill.” Sandy’d smiled and given Ryan a light pat on the shoulder.

Ryan had pulled Taylor out of the kitchen by the hand, and hadn’t let go. She’d giggled across the patio and as they walked along the beach the hand-hold had become an arm slung across her shoulders, which had then migrated down to her waist. When she’d responded by snuggling in close, he’d kissed her. They were taking it slow, but kissing Taylor, making out with her, was going a long way to making Ryan feel like sixteen. Finally, he was having some fun.

“I never thought I’d say it, but she’s good for you, man.” Seth grinned.

His comment brought Ryan firmly back to the present and they marked out another section of the lot into segments. As Ryan bent down to secure the last piece of tape, a tiny glimmer caught his attention. Had to be a bit of flint, a fleck of glass, even so, he felt a spark of excitement build again. He didn’t want to alert Seth until he was sure. He felt around as carefully as he could with his fingers, annoyed that they had begun to shake, making him fumble. He uncovered the diamond first and then the golden band. He fell back on his ass, stunned.

“You found it!” Seth crowed. “Yes! Thank you! We can go home!”

Ryan sat turning the ring around in his fingers, then used the edge of his shirt to clean off some of the dust. It was real. He clenched his fist around the prize, feeling the edge of the stone dig in slightly. Inexplicably, his eyes filled with tears.

“I’ll drive,” Seth offered.

Ryan clutched the ring tightly in his hand the whole way back. He could feel the jewel biting into the flesh of his palm. He clenched his hand a little tighter.

Kirsten was home when they got back.

“Hi, guys,” she greeted them.

Ryan smiled and opened his hand.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up, “How?”

“Hours and hours of toil,” Seth answered, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow as he went to get a drink for himself and passed one to Ryan.

“I found the metal detector,” Ryan said.

“I just…thank you!”

Ryan basked in her joy. He’d believed her when she’d told him that he was more important to her than a ring when it had been originally lost, but it was really cool to see her so pleased. Better even now, than it would have been that night, untarnished by her anger that he’d risked himself to get it back.

“C’mere.”

She wrapped him into a hug then turned to Seth. “Thank you for helping. We should celebrate. I’ll order in.”

Seth nodded his agreement vigorously.

“I need to go wash up.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Sandy! You’ll never believe this…”

The sound of Kirsten’s excited voice as she called to break the news to her husband filled Ryan’s ears and gave him a warm glow of satisfaction. Once back in his room, he emptied his pockets. His cell was blinking.

I M OK

Four letters, two words. Ryan sat. He was absolutely certain who had sent the message. For once, Trey’s timing was perfect. Ryan flopped back onto his bed. He smiled.

View Poll: Promises 2

All lies and jests? Interlude

2008-11-15T13:00:33Z

Title: Promises 2, Interlude
Author: fredsmith518
Beta: loracj and the fic is all the better for her efforts, but all errors are mine as I fiddled.
Rating: teen
Disclaimer: Nothing owned, no monetary profit made.
Summary: This fic is the sequel to Promises, however the timeline is a tad complex as I didn’t write in a sensible, linear order.

1. Promises, the original fic inspired by chapzer’s prompt Ryan overhears Sandy asking Kirsten if he made a mistake bringing him home.to brandywine421’s AU challenge, AU challenge

2. Interludes 1- 4

3. Promises 2, All lies and jests

4. Epilogue to Promises 1 and 2.

5. This fic, an ‘interlude’, Ryan with Alice. To follow, an epilogue.

All lies and jests, interlude

Making assumptions from the collection of shoes, ranging from children’s sneakers and rain boots to adult flip flops and hiking boots in the front porch, Alice’s home promised to be more chaotic than Ryan would have expected. They formed a jumbled heap in one corner, and Ryan thought to himself that anyone who was in a hurry for a particular pair would have their work cut out for them.

“Oh, hey, look, surf shoes!” Sandy grinned, gesturing to part of a sole, barely peeking out from under the rest. “I wonder if Alice surfs? Maybe Lee, or one of the kids?”

“She didn’t mention it when I told her about the sea kayaking.” Ryan tried not to sound wistful.

He evidently failed because Sandy slapped a hand against his forehead. “We haven’t been for months! How about I make some reservations?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“We should have another try at persuading Kirsten.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Maybe she’d consider a two man kayak?”

Sandy’s ruminations were curtailed by Alice opening the door.

“Sorry,” she said. “I was out back and completely lost track of the time. It’s good to see you both. Sandy, are you coming in?”

The arrangement was that Sandy wouldn’t. Ryan was sure that Alice knew that. Sandy inclined his head and looked to Ryan to respond.

“I’m fine. I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Okay then. I’ll catch up with you later. Thanks, Alice.”

Sandy waved and walked back to the car.

“Come in.” Alice stepped aside to let Ryan enter.

The hallway, in contrast to the porch, was just what Ryan had expected, neat and clean. The walls were covered in artwork, including the doodlings of young children just as carefully framed and presented as accomplished work that could sell in any gallery. There were a few fine pieces of wooden furniture, a table, dresser and coat rack: their style immediately reminiscent of the table in her office. It seemed likely that the same carpenter had produced all these pieces. He thought he could discern a signature, a similarity in the way they had been constructed, giving prominence to the look of the grain. The color of the furniture combined with a polished hardwood floor, gave a welcoming mellow glow that Ryan imagined would be sustained even on the darkest days.

They walked through the hallway to a door at the back of the house. When Alice opened it, sunlight flooded in. There were patio doors that opened out to a large back yard, and a gentle breeze ruffled the curtains. The room was painted a mellow green, inviting the garden in. Ryan grinned.

Alice laughed. “I had the windows installed here after seeing how great the new ones at the clinic were. I was kicking myself. It seems so obvious a choice for this room. We should have done it years ago.”

Ryan nodded. “No filing cabinets?” he asked, glancing around. “Ah,” he amended, seeing a door.

“Yep,” Alice confirmed, “a closet. It takes the files and all my other stuff. I have a lot more toys here than at the office. The younger children are much happier in a home set up, but I don’t want to lose the use of the room, with kids’ toys all over the floor. Although when my grandkids are visiting, there are kids’ toys pretty much over the whole house!”

Ryan nodded. He could imagine that degree of tolerance after living with the Cohens.

“You have a question?” she prompted.

“I wondered, bringing your work home, having all that…stuff, discussed in your house, doesn’t it…linger?” He’d tried to choose his words carefully.

“Sometimes, but this is my chosen profession. I know that I help the kids that I see, so a few bad vibes about the place seem well worth it.”

Ryan considered her words.

“I think,” he said slowly, continuing to reflect as he spoke, “last year, I decided trying to reconnect with Trey was worth the ‘bad vibes’ I might get. If I hadn’t, I would have never forgiven myself.”

Alice looked at him, a thoughtful expression gracing her face. “You went into the situation with your eyes wide open. So, if you’ve already made your peace with that, what’s bothering you still to the point that you felt you needed to come see me again?”

“It’s dumb.”

“Can you tell me anyway? Talking, saying the problem out loud can help, remember?”

Ryan nodded and let her words sink in, thinking about how he’d employed the technique before.

“Why don’t we go out into the yard,” she suggested. “It’s such a lovely afternoon.”

Ryan knew Alice. She wasn’t providing a distraction so that he could avoid her question. She was giving him the space he needed until he was ready to answer. And, naturally, being Alice, she intended to get something useful accomplished in the meantime. Once more, Ryan was grateful that luck or fate – or careful Cohen research - had provided him with a practical person for his counselor.

She picked up a basket of gardening tools from just outside the door and walked across the grass to a bed of roses. Alice began to prune, making neat efficient cuts, then added the dead heads to a growing pile in a small basket. Ryan squinted at the horizon then took a quick glance at his watch.

“Ryan, if you’re uncomfortable here, you don’t have to stay today. You can go home and we can pick this up again. You know that, right?”

Busted. He smiled ruefully.

“I know. I do want to be here,” he confirmed. “And I want to tell you. I just need to figure it out for myself first, to find the right words.”

“Have you tried breaking it down into stages, trying to analyse the triggers?”

Ryan knew very well what the ‘trigger’ was. It was getting the courage to ‘say it out loud’ – to confront it head on, instead of letting it fester in the corners of his mind. He squared his shoulders. Keeping that information locked away had failed. Speaking to Alice would be easier than telling Sandy, or for sure, Kirsten. They were too invested in his well being and would be distraught to hear that he’d been in more danger than he’d already admitted to.

“There was a gun. When I met Trey and the other guys came, one of them had a gun. I Sandy and Kirsten don’t know,” he amended quickly. He shot a quick glance at Alice. She had her game face on, unreadable. He ploughed on before he lost his nerve. “I keep, I keep hearing…It’s the sound of the gun being cocked against his head that bothers me…it plays back in my head…sometimes I get freaked by something that sounds similar, but mostly, it just happens. I’ll be at home or at school and it’s just there.”

Once the words were spoken, he could feel a weight gone. It was weird. Alice didn’t comment. The rhythmic snick of the hand pruners continued.

“Here, I trust you.”

Alice handed him a pair of his own. He felt the weight of them, experimented opening and shutting them. He tested the blade carefully against his thumb. The tool was well kept and oiled, without a speck of rust. The sound of Ryan’s pruners provided a counter point to Alice’s as the pile of dead heads grew. The repetitive task was soothing, like running.

Ryan attempted to work through the memory to see why this, of all the unpleasant things that had happened to him, should be so hard to get past. It wasn’t like their shared history hadn’t provided their fair share of knocks, situations that could have gotten out of hand and resulted in serious injury to one or both of them. Most of those incidents had happened after he’d turned ten, when his dad went away for his final stretch and their mom started on her accumulation of lovers.

But then a memory from further back presented itself. Ryan started to speak, unsure himself of where his train of thought might take him, but willing to explore it. It was a big step into the dark for him. He spoke slowly.

“Trey got into lots of trouble when we were kids. He’d come home with skinned knees and bruised knuckles. Half the time, he never said what he’d been doing. Sometimes, I’d hear from the other kids, younger brothers and sisters of his friends. Sometimes, Trey would tell me, but I never knew if he was making stuff up. He told my mom nothing.”

Ryan paused again and gathered his thoughts. “From when I was a little kid, Trey would sneak out of our room through the window. Mom almost never checked up on us. I can’t remember one time when she realized that he was missing. Trey always came back, so I never even worried that much.

“The first time I woke up and he wasn’t back in the morning, I was totally freaked. I didn’t know what to do. Whether I should tell or not.”

Ryan had gone through that day on autopilot: getting dressed, attending school, all the time filled with a sick dread that he’d done the wrong thing, that he should have stopped Trey from going out the night before, that he should have told his mom that Trey was missing that morning despite his brother’s consistent warning,

’you tell mom nothing, LB, you hear me, punk? Don’t make me hurt you when I get back.’, followed up by a cocky, and you know I’m like a superhero – nothing and nobody can catch me, little bro.

“Sometimes Trey came back, he’d bring some soda or some squashed candy.”
He’d pass the spoils over with a,

‘hey, squirt, that’s for keeping it zipped.’

“It made me feel special, I guess, like I mattered to him. That he’d thought about me. Made me his sidekick.

“When Trey didn’t come back that night, I felt like I’d sold him short, from wanting to live dangerously without taking any risks myself.”

He hadn’t been able to concentrate in school, and had rushed home at the end of the day to find Trey lounging on the front porch with Eddie and Arturo passing what he’d taken to be a cigarette from hand to hand. He’d been relieved, then angry, and had stood rooted to the spot, watching, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Scoot, LB!” Trey had said, once he’d finally noticed him and he’d scooted, biting back the words that he’d wanted to throw in Trey’s grinning face.

“Trey was fine. Most times he was fine, but that become my role; covering for him then worrying when he didn’t come back. He got more and more bold, sometimes mom did find out he’d gone and she’d be pissed. Sorry, I mean annoyed.”

“You can say ‘pissed’.”

“Okay, so then she’d be mad at both of us. I got used to getting caught up in his trouble then later his scams too. I guess I figured I was already getting punished when he got caught, so I might as well do something too.”

“So, it was your brother’s fault you got in trouble?”

Ryan smiled and shook his head. “No, I’m more self aware than that. I made my own bad choices, but somewhere along the line, I seem to have decided I should be covering Trey’s back. When he was in prison, at least I knew where he was. This ‘not knowing’; it’s hard. I keep imagining the kinds of trouble he could be getting into and…”

“…and?”

“I hear the gun being cocked.”

His hands had become slick from sweat, so when he raised the pruning shears to cut off another dead head, they slipped from his fingers and he bent down to retrieve them.

“Sorry.”

“Why don’t we sit for a minute?” Alice offered, then continued. “I remember how important it was for you to make contact with Trey. I remember what you said about him letting you down before. You went into this with your eyes wide open. Of course it hurts that your brother let you down again. You trusted him and he stole from your family.

“Being there with him, fearing for his life and yours too, Ryan, that’s a lot to get over. It’s completely separate from your trust being betrayed. I think you have to admit that to yourself that it was okay to be scared, that the situation was out of your control. There was nothing you could have done to help Trey.”

She waited until Ryan looked up and nodded in her direction before continuing. “And of course, you shouldn’t have gone. You should have gone to Sandy and Kirsten.”

Ryan snorted a laugh. He couldn’t help it.

Alice smiled wryly. “I know that I’m not speaking as your therapist here. I’m a concerned friend, a mother, a grandmother. Ryan, you must stop putting yourself at risk. You could have landed up seriously injured or dead.”

He stilled. No one had said the words out loud. Euphemisms, sure, ‘anything could have happened’, in particular. But she was right. He was damned lucky that things had happened the way they did. Trey was, too.

“How do you see your relationship with Sandy and Kirsten at the moment?”

“Um, fine, I think.”

“Be explicit.”

“They’re worried because of what I did, but they’ve been really great, trying to understand. It’s kinda difficult, though, ‘cause I don’t, didn’t, understand me either, why I was acting out, being pissed at them when nothing was their fault.

“Sandy’s been there for me, making sure I know he cares. Kirsten too, but with Sandy…”

“With Sandy?” She pushed when he’d faltered.

He brushed his hand across his hair, wishing he still had the distraction of the rose heads to cut. He nodded to himself, more than to Alice, determined to try to explain, fully aware that when he and Alice had first met the sessions had been prompted by his rift with Sandy which had been exacerbated by his lack of communication. He wanted, needed her to understand how things stood between him and Sandy now.

It all came down to speaking.

“Sandy’s big on words, you know? And he’s always wanted me to talk, and after last year, I’ve been talking more, I swear, because I do get it, but lately, since this stuff with Trey went down, it’s like he’s really understood me - he’s talked or we’ve just sat and I felt …safe.”

accepted for who I am, faults and all, protected…loved

“That’s good.” She smiled.

“Yeah, but the talking is still hard, understanding me is still hard. I need to be able to do this without the drama, you know?” He hazarded a half smile. “Last year, you said I could benefit from working through ‘my issues’ some more, the baggage from my childhood, confronting the way mom was. I think I’m ready to start.”

“Okay, then, we can do that,” she replied easily. “You’ve already made a good start.”

She paused until he offered a nod in reply, accepting her praise.

“Bring some gardening gloves next week. You’ll be needing them, especially in the fall.”

He went to stand up.

“One more thing.”

She delved into her basket and came up with a small sketchbook and pencil.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“As quickly as you can. Your family.”

Ryan tried hard to draw and not think too much. He drew Sandy, Seth and Kirsten grouped together, hesitated slightly then added himself, slightly behind, in the gap between Sandy and Seth. A longer pause and a few quick strokes and Trey was added off to one side. He surveyed his work.

“Okay,” he said, “okay.”

“Yes,” agreed Alice.

Promises 2, All lies and jests, part 5 of 5

2008-10-28T20:12:11Z

Title: Promises 2, all lies and jests?
Author: fredsmith518
Beta: loracj and the fic is all the better for her excellent revisions.
Rating: teen
Disclaimer: Nothing owned, no monetary profit made.
Summary: This fic is the sequel to Promises, however the timeline is a tad complex as I didn’t write in a sensible, linear order.

1. Promises, the original fic inspired by chapzer’s prompt Ryan overhears Sandy asking Kirsten if he made a mistake bringing him home.to brandywine421’s AU challenge, AU challenge

2. Interludes 1- 4

3. This fic! All lies and jests

4. Epilogue to Promises 1 and 2, which I have tinkered with slightly to fit in with this better, nothing too major, mostly timeline.

5. To follow, an interlude and another epilogue.

A/N half way through this part, the fic links up with the first part of All lies and jests posted, “Don’t you ever risk yourself like that again! It wasn’t worth it. Nothing is worth you getting hurt. Don’t you dare frighten me like that again! Do you hear me, Ryan? I mean it!”

Kirsten stood, arms akimbo, eyebrows drawn in an angry line.…

All lies and jest?, part 5

“Where the hell did you go? You look like shit, man!”

Seth had been standing by the security guard’s office. Ryan had had a clear view of him scanning the road as he’d had rounded the last corner. Seth had run down to greet him, stopping a few yards short of where Ryan had stopped to catch his breath. He stared at Seth blearily, wondering where to start his explanation of the night’s events, hoping that maybe he could get Seth to hold off with the interrogation until after they had reached the house.

It looked like his wish would be granted, since Seth didn’t wait for Ryan to answer. He got out his cell and pressed a preset.

“Dad? Yeah, Ryan’s back. See you soon, gotta call Mom. He’s out looking for you,” Seth explained, looking up to address Ryan briefly before he chose another number, then raised the cell to his ear once more. Almost immediately, he was speaking.

“Mom, hi, I got Ryan. We’re coming home now.” Seth pocketed the cell, then nailed Ryan with an intense look. “So, spill.”

The brief respite over, Ryan replied, “I went to see Trey, to try to get your Mom’s ring back.”

“Yeah, that’s what we thought. Where’s your bike?”

“We got jumped. Trey owed these guys…I gave him my bike…and I haven’t got the ring either,” Ryan replied tiredly, trying to sum up the night’s events in the fewest words possible.

“The ‘rents aren’t exactly on board with your choices, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Okay, just as long as you know what you’re walking into. And speaking of, we’d better get moving.”

Getting started again was harder than Ryan had anticipated. He’d stiffened up, and walking was getting more and more difficult by the step. Seth walked beside him, adjusting his pace to Ryan’s.

Before they had reached the driveway, Kirsten came racing down the road towards them. Ryan frowned. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember seeing her running before.

Every aspect of his life was spiralling further and further out of control, and the ripples were fanning out, distorting everyone around him.

“Ryan! Are you all right?” she asked breathlessly as she ran her eyes over him, taking in his dishevelled appearance.

“Mostly,” he said quietly.

She reached out and hugged him. It seemed weird because the last person to hug him had been Trey. He felt pulled in two directions, despite his determination that he and Trey were done. He felt unsteady and feared that he might break down. He stepped away, saw her frown, but she didn’t pursue it.

They were all subdued as they walked slowly back up the drive. Seth let out an enormous yawn and Ryan felt a pang of guilt. All the Cohens must have been up for hours. He wondered who had raised the alarm. How long had it been after he left that they’d realized he’d gone? His steps slowed. It was becoming too hard to think and walk at the same time.

Ryan squinted. He thought that he’d caught a flash of headlights, and, sure enough, Sandy jogged around the house to meet them as they approached the patio doors.

“Ryan! Thank God,” he exclaimed. “Are you okay?” he continued.

Ryan nodded wearily.

“You’re sure? Because I can take you to the hospital, get you checked out?”

Sandy’s tone was warmth personified, with no hint of anger or condemnation and Ryan was tempted, for a moment, to say ‘yes’, to postpone explaining his actions – at least, for a while longer. But, ultimately, what was the point?

He shook his head ‘no’ to Sandy’s offer and the questions and explanations recommenced. Tersely, he repeated the brief versions of the night’s events that he’d already given Seth. That wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy Sandy or Kirsten.

“You risked yourself because of my ring?” Kirsten asked incredulously. “Oh, honey, I wish you hadn’t done that.”

And suddenly, he was pissed at her. If she valued the damn ring so lightly, why had she been crying and why the hell had Sandy bothered to mention its loss earlier? The night’s events came slamming down on top of him. The smell of the asphalt, the sound of the gun being cocked, and the fear that his brother was going to die beside him flooded his senses. He shut his eyes tight in an effort to shut out the unwelcome images, which merely served to intensify their power.

On top of that, all the insecurities about living with the Cohens that he’d thought he’d conquered a year ago came rushing back. Why would they want to be bothered with a screwup like him? All he brought was trouble. He shrugged out of Kirsten’s grasp and lurched away. She pursed her lips.

“Don’t you ever risk yourself like that again! It wasn’t worth it. Nothing is worth you getting hurt. Don’t you dare frighten me like that again! Do you hear me, Ryan? I mean it!”

Kirsten stood, arms akimbo, eyebrows drawn in an angry line.…

**************************

When he emerged from his room the afternoon after his minor meltdown, Ryan intended to seek out each member of the family. He wanted to deliver a personal apology to them individually for his behavior, and planned on supplementing the words he’d jotted down and pinned up on his door. He started with Seth – the easiest - knocking on his door before going downstairs.

“Enter! Oh, hey, Ryan, sorry, I thought you were one of the parental units come to hover.”

Seth stood as Ryan entered. Ryan nodded and said, “I, um wanted to apologize for last night. I guess you lost some sleep?”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t a big deal.”

Despite those words, Seth’s mouth snapped shut. Ryan was convinced that he had more to say. He debated leaving it. He really, really wanted to leave it. He sighed and cocked his head quizzically.

“Something else bothering you?” he ventured, sensing the debate going on in Seth’s head while he waited.

“Okay, yes, damn it! I wish you had said something to my parents. They were so worried about you. Mom was beside herself. Sometimes, I wonder if you even know how much they care.” Seth punctuated his words with wild hand movements, as if all the energy he’d stored up had to find an outlet.

Ryan dropped his gaze. So much for easy.

“I couldn’t. I just couldn’t,” he said softly.

“I get that you felt you should handle it yourself, but last night, it was freaky; worse even than that time with Donnie.”

Once more, Ryan was assailed by the sound of the gun being cocked, and then a detonation. He shuddered.

Seth immediately back-tracked. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t mean to bust your balls. It’s just…you scared me.”

“Yeah, I scared me too.” Ryan tried to offer a half smile, but couldn’t manage it.

They stood for a few moments in silence.

“So, are we good?” Seth asked, searching Ryan’s face. “D’you need me to have your back with the ‘rents?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” They touched knuckles. Ryan felt a rush of affection for Seth and finally managed to smile a little. “But I think I better see your mom and dad on my own, preferably together.”

“Two apologies for one?”

“Exactly.”

“Catch you later.”

Ryan found Sandy and Kirsten together in the kitchen. They listened patiently as he apologized for his behavior after he’d returned home.

“But you’re not sorry you went?” Sandy asked, his face and voice neutral.

Ryan took a deep breath and shook his head. “No,” he confirmed. “It was important for me to see him…if something had happened to him and I…”

He couldn’t continue, because anything still could have happened to Trey after he’d left Ryan. The guys in the car could have changed their minds. He could have gotten hit by a car. He could have…Ryan’s mind was racing. It took him a few minutes to realize that Sandy was speaking again. He blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, d’you want to eat something? You have a doctor’s appointment in an hour.”

To his intense relief, Sandy didn’t pursue Ryan zoning out. Practicalities took over and that was always easier. He went for his check up without any fuss and once more catalogued how he’d gotten hurt. It was beyond old.

Over the next few days, he tried to get over himself and put the incident behind him, but he couldn’t seem to manage it. Somehow, somewhere, between Trey’s actions and his own and the Cohens’ reactions, something had shifted, had gotten twisted. He couldn’t find his hard won comfort zone within the family. Whenever he was around them, he felt tense and bent out of shape. He shut down every attempt that Sandy made to get him to talk about what had happened and ignored every effort of Kirsten’s to mother him, choosing to walk away and shut himself up in his room. He thought longingly of how much easier it would have been to detach from Cohen family life if he’d still been living in the pool house.

Gradually, it dawned on him how much the Cohens were respecting his wishes. They’d let him stay home from school, and kept everyone else away from him. He opened up his inbox one evening to check what he was missing in school, looking for a distraction, even if it was homework. He found it full of messages, the majority from Taylor. But his soccer team buddies had contributed to the volume. Luke in particular, but Will and Spike too. His hand hovered over the delete button, but, ultimately, he decided against it.

He dutifully worked his way through each of Taylor’s messages first. The tone of the first dozen, fired off within the first hour or so of her finding out what had gone down was relentlessly panicky. Then, she obviously had some input from Seth. Seth, he realized as he’d reached the final email, must have been covering his back. The difference between his biological family and the Cohens was once more held up in stark relief.

He wasn’t ready to confront all his feelings – not again. He just wanted to paper over the cracks and get on with his life. What was one more disappointment? One more betrayal? Why care? All that gave was grief and bad dreams of dead brothers.

He went back to school. He went through the motions, playing video games with Seth or sometimes doing homework with Taylor, but the joy in little things was gone. Sitting on the patio in the cool of the evening inevitably reminded him that was where he’d been when he’d heard what Trey had done. Every interaction with Seth highlighted the absence of his biological brother. That led to measuring the actions of one brother against those of the other until his head hurt. His patience inevitably thinned and he feared that he might lash out at Seth simply for being there, so he spent less time with him.

Likewise with Sandy and Kirsten, every attention they paid him only served to magnify the differences between them and Dawn and Frank. Their very kindness hurt.

Ryan didn’t set out to distance himself from the Cohens, but some previously ingrained instinct for self preservation seemed to kick in and weeks later, when he looked back with clear eyes, he saw what he’d been doing and regretted it.

In an effort to clear his head, he took up running along the beach again. The mechanical, repetitive motion helped him. Sometimes, he used it to switch off; at other times, he attempted to work through his feelings about Trey. He loved his brother – he hated his brother. The more he thought about the dichotomy, the more he realized that his mixed emotions were long standing. Trey would be standing up for Ryan one moment; to their mother or to the asshole of the week. Then, it seemed, with his very next breath, bad mouthing Ryan as a little bitch to his friends and ditching him.

The first time Sandy met up with him as he finished a run, Ryan had thought nothing of it, but as the weeks progressed, they fell into a rhythm. When Ryan completed his distance, Sandy was always there to offer a drink and sit and chat or, more often, just sit. His continued calm presence and patience soothed Ryan’s jagged nerves, proving himself to Ryan yet again, as he had since their estrangement the year before.

Ryan knew his guardian was seeking him out, to offer support just by being there. Sometimes Sandy talked. He told Ryan about his life growing up in the Bronx, sharing stories of his childhood and his teenage years, his brushes with petty crime and near misses with arrests, trusting Ryan with his history. He never pushed for a response, but, somehow, his words drew Ryan in. They made him more and more familiar with the forces that had shaped Sandy, those same forces that had led the man to tell Ryan that they were cut from the same deck.

And then one day, Ryan was ready to talk.