Update!

[arualms]

 So, since katwoman76 really, really wanted this update, I decided to stop worrying about it not being any good and just posted it.

Dealing - Chapter 12

previous chapters are here

disclaimer: still haven’t saved enough money to buy Ben. Not sure if I would even want to own the show, considering the fact that they still seem to be unable to actually acknowledge, much less deal with Ryan’s problems. Theresa lies to him about the baby, and he just asks her out for something to eat? Please!

 

AN: For katwoman76. Because she kept asking.

 

Dealing – Chapter 12

 

Past, Present and Future

 

Ryan repressed a sigh, letting himself fall back in the seat, ignoring the squeaking of worn out leather. He didn’t remember ever having been this tired before. Just how did he get here? He should have just ignored Seth’s outbreak this morning, let his words wash over him and get back to normal. Instead he had made the mistake of giving his friend privileged information. He ought to have known that things would go downhill from then on. Talking never helped anyone.

 

But that wasn’t completely true, was it? Talking to Kirsten had actually helped him. Hearing her actually say that she didn’t blame him for what had happened with Trey had somehow lifted a weight he hadn’t even known was weighing him down. The revelation that she had not known about Julie’s actions, had not accepted what the woman had done and moved on as if nothing had happened soothed a hurt he had pretended didn’t exist. But what was the price for that comfort?

 

Kirsten and Sandy were fighting again, he had once more caused trouble for the couple that had taken him in, had gotten him out of juvie and into a life that held the promise of an actual future. He owed them more than he could ever repay, and the only thing he did was cause them trouble.

 

“What can I bring you?” The waitress interrupted his thoughts. He lifted his head, his eyes settling on the face that would probably be attractive, if it wasn’t drawn with exhaustion. She looked like someone resigned to never getting to do anything better than waiting in the small rest stop diner, bringing bad coffee and greasy fries to countless truck drivers and bus passengers.

 

“Cheeseburger, french fries and a coke.” He didn’t normally eat a lot when he was upset, but he hadn’t really had breakfast and it was already late afternoon. “Please.” he remembered to add. No need being impolite just because he felt like crap.

 

She nodded and went of in the direction of the counter, yelling his order to the cook that had to be hidden in the spacer behind the counter, barely visible through the smoke coming up from the grill, wafting through the diner and covering everything within with the fumes of hot oil and slightly burnt burgers.

 

He turned again, once more staring out of the dirt-smudged window at the grey road that seemed to be stretching endlessly in both directions. The very definition of being in the middle of nowhere. It seemed fitting.

 

He got the pack of cigarettes he had bought at the last rest stop out of his backpack and ripped of the cellophane wrapping. The diner might not be exceptionally clean, but no one here would frown upon smoking. Ashtrays were placed on all the tables. He definitely wasn’t in California anymore.

 

Of course, he thought while taking out one of the cigarettes and lighting it, that was sort of the problem. His plan hadn’t really gone farther than “get out of here fast”. He was out now, but he had no idea how to go on. Getting a job without an address would be difficult. So would be getting a place to say. Not to mention that people might actually insist on seeing his ID, and then the fact that he wasn’t legal yet would become an issue.

 

He snorted at the thought. As if you suddenly became an adult from one day to the next. He doubted Seth would be a grown up before he reached his forties. He didn’t know the last time he hadn’t had to be a grown up.

 

“Here you go.” The waitress placed his food and drink in front of him.

 

“Thanks.” It actually looked and smelled really good. He had almost forgotten that there used to be placed were you went for the food and not for the expensive interior design.

 

He took a last drag of his cigarette and dropped it into the ashtray, then took his first bite of the burger. It tasted good, too. Exactly what he needed right now.

 

“Come on Ryan, you have to eat something.” Theresa looks rather exasperated. Not that that is a new thing. Ryan is pretty good at driving her nuts by, as she calls it, “being such a guy.” He doesn’t mind it when she is angry, not really. She always stems her hands on her hips, and it causes her breasts to stand out more. Not that he would ever tell her this.

 

“I can’t ok? I’m sick.” He is, sort of. He feels like he wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. Ok, so it is not a virus, but nausea caused by punches and kicks to the stomach is still nausea.

 

“I know, but if you don’t get something into your stomach soon, you will get even worse. How are you supposed to get better after you puked out everything yesterday, if not by eating something now.”

 

He gives her what she calls “the look”, but it doesn’t have an effect on her this time. And he knows she is right, he will have to eat something before going back home. Chances of getting something there are somewhere in the negative range of probability, and he needs to keep his strength up in case the current jerk of the week comes up with something else that is his fault.

 

“Let’s talk Turo into driving us to Mc Dumb, he will totally say yes because he still hasn’t gotten over the fact that he actually has a license now. I mean, if coke and fries help against a hangover, they should help against this too, right?”

 

He can’t help but smile at her now, because really, Theresa is just trying to be nice, and it is not her fault that his head feels like it will explode any second now. “Ok, let’s go.”

 

Normal people in Chino deal with their problems by getting drunk, drugged or setting records for domestic violence. T’s chosen method of coping with trouble is comfort food. She had a secret stash of chocolate and muffins under her bed, and when the going gets rough, there are enough fast-food places within a twenty-minute distance to make sure she can calm down by consuming insane amounts of greasy food. She has to have an incredible metabolism, because she never gains weight.

 

He carefully gets of the pull out couch that he was allowed to spend the night on and follows her to the yard, where she is already harassing Turo. Ryan knows he will give in. He loves driving without worrying about being pulled over.

 

He takes a step closer and smiles back at Theresa when she happily announces that their burgers and fries are waiting for them.

 

 Ryan placed his plastic fork on the empty plate and took a last gulp of the coke. Now what?

 

He had left the bus at this stop because he had needed something to eat, and he had felt like he had spent enough time driving around in the Greyhound aimlessly. When he had taken his seat here, he had been determined to figure out what to do next, but so far, he hadn’t been able to come up with anything. Atwoods and their tendency for instinctive gut reactions.

 

He really ought to have thought about this sooner. But really, with the chaos of self-accusations and worries about the Cohens, there hadn’t been enough room in his mind for logical plans. There hadn’t really been room for anything but the “get out” that had been loudly ringing through his head.

 

Even now, his thoughts kept returning to what he had seen and heard through those glass doors. He didn’t think he had ever before seen Sandy and Kirsten openly fighting about anything. Even when they disagreed about something, there was always an amount of calmness that he had never experienced with his family. Seeing and hearing them yell at each other had felt like a punch to the gut.

 

He knew they would never be like his parents. Sandy would never beat Kirsten; she would never take to throwing empty liquor bottles at her husband. But then, he had also known that Kirsten would never be like Dawn, and yet two years after he had first accepted that knowledge, he had been taking part in her intervention.

 

He cringed, making a conscious effort to lead his train of thought away from that particular memory. Funny, how knowing that his foster mother was simply lashing out hadn’t really done anything to make her words any less painful

 

He reminded himself of this morning, the long talk they had had in the pool house. She really did care about him. And she had actually accepted the help that Dawn had always refused to take, had gotten through rehab and come back sober.

 

So she had hurt him. Ryan didn’t think there was anyone he knew who didn’t, at some point and to some degree. It wasn’t really Kirsten’s fault that it affected him more when it came from her. For someone who was used to keep his walls up 24 / 7, he sure had easily caved when faced with the Cohens.

 

He lighted another cigarette, taking a deep drag and enjoying the feeling of it filling his lungs. Right now, he didn’t know how he had ever been able to quit.

 

Blowing out the smoke and watching it wafting away, he once more tried to think about what to do next. But once again, the past took president over the future. Picturing a future without the Cohens in it was painful. Even when he had gone back to Chino, he had known that he would still see them every now and then.

 

He reminded himself that this was the way it had to be. To keep their family safe and intact, he had to take himself out of the equation. He might not be able to undo all the damage he had caused, but this way they had a shot at getting back to normal, to the way things had been before Sandy had decided to take one of his clients home and let him sleep in the pool house.

 

Ryan wasn’t stupid, he knew that everything had not been perfect back then, Seth had taken more than enough time to explain in great detail the deeds of the evil water polo players, usually combined with some sarcastic comment about the fact that their lack of intelligence kept them from doing anything else. And Ryan had heard both the verbal and inaudible “You saved me from that”, every time the other boy had talked about it.

 

But Seth didn’t need to be saved any more. He had the girl of his dreams, and while he was still a nerd, geek and freak, the students had stopped giving him hell quite some time ago. And if they ever started again, Ryan was positive that Summer would tear them to shreds. The girl could be seriously frightening.

 

So things would go back to bad for Seth, and they could go back to good for Sandy and Kirsten. They would be able to concentrate on fixing their own problems, instead of wasting their time trying to solve his issues.

 

Leaving was the right thing to do. It didn’t make him happy, but knowing that he would no longer complicate their lives was comforting. But then why was there a nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him he was missing something important?

 

He wearily rubbed a hand over his eyes; trying to pinpoint the thought that was causing him to feel like had left the house without turning of the stove.

 

How could you allow me to spend all this time with her, knowing how horrible she behaved, knowing that she didn't even hesitate to hurt our son?

 

The memory came back sudden, startling him with its intensity. He hadn’t understood everything that Kirsten had yelled at Sandy, but he had heard this. Somehow, it hadn’t really registered at the moment, but now it was echoing loudly in his head.

 

“Our son” Kirsten had said, without any hesitation, and Sandy hadn’t corrected her.

 

Before, when she had referred to him as family in the pool house, he had believed that she wanted to see him like that, even wanted him to see himself as such. After his slip up the evening before, when he had actually admitted to not feeling like a part of their family, he had figured she felt the need to reassure him as a means to making him stay.

 

He had heard her words and they had felt good, but he had still not been able to believe them, not really, thinking that Kirsten was saying what she believed had to be said to make him feel more at ease and make him stay.

 

The exchange with Sandy in the kitchen was different. Kirsten hadn’t been talking to him, hadn’t even known that he could hear her. She had called him her son, apparently not even having to think about it before categorizing him as such. And Sandy hadn’t even seemed surprised.

 

Ryan leaned back once more, trying to figure out what this meant for him. Kirsten had yelled at Sandy because she thought he had done something that had hurt their son. And though he still felt guilty as hell about being the cause for an argument, he had to admit to himself that it felt amazing. Knowing his foster mother had actually meant that.

 

The comfort of this thought was, unfortunately, rather short lived. Kirsten thought of him as her son, as family. And he had just left, without any kind of explanation. Even Dawn had left a note.

 

Taking a deep breath, Ryan got up and walked over to the pay phone located at the other end of the diner. He still knew that he was doing the right thing, because Kirsten’s feelings for him didn’t change the fact that they were all better off without him, but he at least owed her an explanation.

 

If I beg for feedback, are you going to give me more? If so, imagine me kissing your feet.

Comments

[beachtree.livejournal.com]

Boring? Duh! Not. This is the sort of introspection that speaks volumes more than dialogue. The external dialogue is just an accent here. The internal sorting is where the real meat is.

Ryan wasn't rambling at all, but analyzing and reviewing in a very thoughtful and thought-provoking way. He's a problem solver and in this case he's his only counsel, so he has to look within to replay what he's already experienced, checking to see what he overlooked, misinterpreted or missed.

It's next to impossible for Ryan to explain everything to them since they seem to prefer the world they can control and that includes an image of him they can accept and control. I'm sure it hurts them to think about what his life was like before and even what he deals with so privately now as a result, but somehow, until it impacts them directly and they are faced with dealing with the unpleasantness, they prefer the illusion. Ryan, so eager to please and having no desire to give in to demons or relive what was painful enough originally, is willing to indulge them. He can only do that so much, however, because it has become obvious to him that even references to his past or disturbing events lead to such dire consequences that he is utterly confused. They profess to care about him and accept him, but they can't do that by negating who he is and that includes who he was for the first 15 years. Anytime the subject of his past is raised, there's a negative reaction and similar results. Anytime Ryan tries to communicate with them, he is either brushed aside or seems to open the floodgates...