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quillscribeThis is for joey51, who asked for either an update of SitC (which will be coming soon) or a short, super angsty one-shot.
Just a warning, this has got curse words in it, but really - when you write from a teenager's pov, how can you not? ;-) Hope it doesn't offend! Oh, and this is O.C.
By the way - ATLB gets worked on this weekend, as I officially dig into the pain/joy/masochism which is NaNoWriMo. Good luck to all you participants out there!!!
This time, instead of doing just one original story (which I did last year), I've modified the goal to be written words applied towards any variety of fics I'm working on. That keeps me from wrapping myself completely around the axle if I start to feel stymied.
Well, enough blather and on with the angst! I hope you enjoy, joey51! *waves*
There were some lessons Ryan learned early on that he really wished he hadn’t. Lessons like: Everyone had their limits and that there would always be conditions. He’d known it for a long time, but had been willing to suspend his disbelief in the face of what he saw in the Cohens. Sandy had taken him in, and Ryan had more than willingly submerged his fears and anxieties.
He should have known better. In fact he did know better. His mother hadn’t raised a fool, and the greatest lesson she’d ever taught him was that people would inevitably let him down… And he them as well. All it took was time.
Men he’d admired (there’d been a few on the long parade of mom’s boyfriends) would appear and suddenly life would be perfect for a while. His mother would ask after his grades and make sure he had a sack lunch and pretend she’d always been responsible, and Ryan would refuse to be bitter at knowing the only reason she was doing it was not for *him* but for the boyfriend du jour.
But his mother could never hold it together long, no matter how decent the guy, and Trey refused to pretend (when he was around). Eventually his mother would start pouring booze into her soda cans and buying breath mints by the case. She’d stumble and say awful things and her boyfriends would stand there bewildered as their life together disintegrated to dust.
Ryan had tried covering for her, ignoring her, and even raging at her, but none of it worked. The day still came when he woke up and the guy was gone, leaving her passed out on the floor with the half empty glass of orange juice and vodka still in her hand, upright even when she wasn’t – no longer pretending.
Trey liked to pretend he wasn’t a part of them – a part of her – and Ryan couldn’t blame him, but he could also see it didn’t work. His brother’s temper was too quick, his feelings too easily hurt and his morals too flexible for him to find sanctuary elsewhere for long.
He’d come crawling back with false apologies and tall tales of woe and their mother took him back in not because she had to but because she liked to keep her options open, and there might be a time when she could use him like she did Ryan.
As he got older, the men she brought home became rougher and meaner, and she stopped having to pretend at all. She could drink to her heart’s content and didn’t have to worry about looking like a good mother. She luxuriated in being able to say anything she wanted, blaming it on the booze, and did so with zeal. That’s when he learned that some things should just not be said. Ever.
Ryan found that it was smarter to blend in with the wallpaper, to disappear in plain sight, and learned to swallow his hurt retorts and angry comments. It was all just words anyway. Words were just a fancy way of trying to cover up deeds.
He knew it killed her when she had to depend on him, and it was an odd sort of revenge when he came to her rescue. The black eyes and the bruised ribs he got from putting himself between his mother and her men became opportunities to remind her of her failings without saying a word.
He knew it was a sick relationship – had known it for a long while – but she was blood, just like Trey, and the one thing he understood was that family was the one thing you couldn’t walk away from, no matter how awful the train wreck…
Until they did, of course.
He never expected for her to kick him out and mean it. She’d needed him. Despite everything, he’d still do anything for her, and she knew it. He hadn’t seen it coming, but in retrospect, he should have. The moment he stopped being ‘the responsible one’ he became another Trey, and of course she’d want no part of him.
In his heart of hearts, he’d always understood her love was conditional – but he’d never been the one cut from her life before, only Trey had. Now he was old hand at it. It seemed like everyone in his life was keen to take a shot. Even the Cohens.
Whether it was Trey, or the incident with the Dean, or maybe even the fact Kirsten had become an alcoholic, it was clear to Ryan that Sandy no longer loved him. He’d become the burden, the 'problem' Sandy had to deal with, and it kept Ryan up at night.
He knew he had issues with being needed, but it was the closest he could ever get to love, and he knew there were probably professionals who’d love to talk to him about it, but he didn’t care…
It turned out that being blood didn’t matter – love didn’t matter - people could cut him out of their hearts pretty damn easily, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop wanting to be needed and time to start learning to walk away.
It was clear they’d be better off without him. Sandy wouldn’t have to deal with the stress of his schooling; Kirsten wouldn’t have to make awkward conversations with him when it was clear she felt uncomfortable, and Seth… He loved Seth, but Seth had Summer now, and really, she was a much better influence on him than Ryan could ever be.
They’d opened their hearts and home to him, but in the end there really wasn’t room for one more and he knew it, even if they didn’t yet. But they would, and Ryan didn’t want to be around to see it. He’d endured a lot, but he didn’t think he could handle that.
If only he could walk away from Marissa… His feelings of obligation and duty to her because of Trey had twisted him up to new lengths and he didn’t know how to untangle the emotions. He knew she was a train wreck in so many ways, and was well aware that the more she learned to stand on her own (or find someone else to replace him), the sooner she’d leave him behind, but it didn’t stop him from needing her in his life because she needed him, and how fucked up was that?
Sometimes in the dark of early morning, when his thoughts kept him so wound up he’d get physically sick, he could see the similarities between her and his mother, and it chilled him as he tried to drift off to sleep, but by morning he’d buried it deep enough that he didn’t have to face it in the light of day.
He’d tried to armor himself as much as he could for what was coming with the Cohens, but kept slipping. Being needed was all he’d ever been able to be, and to give it up felt like he was giving up everything he’d ever tried to do, and if all of it was pointless, then where did that leave him?
At a payphone with the number of a man scratched out on the back of business card who he knew absolutely nothing about, who was ready to take him in when everyone else looked away.
So when Marissa came, he realized he wasn’t ready yet to let them go, to let her go, too, even though he knew in the end they’d hate him. He needed them, and dog that he was (as A.J. used to say), he couldn’t help but keep crawling back for more. At least for now.
After all, Sandy hadn’t left him yet.
Just a warning, this has got curse words in it, but really - when you write from a teenager's pov, how can you not? ;-) Hope it doesn't offend! Oh, and this is O.C.
By the way - ATLB gets worked on this weekend, as I officially dig into the pain/joy/masochism which is NaNoWriMo. Good luck to all you participants out there!!!
This time, instead of doing just one original story (which I did last year), I've modified the goal to be written words applied towards any variety of fics I'm working on. That keeps me from wrapping myself completely around the axle if I start to feel stymied.
| |
1,294 / 50,000 (2.6%) |
Well, enough blather and on with the angst! I hope you enjoy, joey51! *waves*
There were some lessons Ryan learned early on that he really wished he hadn’t. Lessons like: Everyone had their limits and that there would always be conditions. He’d known it for a long time, but had been willing to suspend his disbelief in the face of what he saw in the Cohens. Sandy had taken him in, and Ryan had more than willingly submerged his fears and anxieties.
He should have known better. In fact he did know better. His mother hadn’t raised a fool, and the greatest lesson she’d ever taught him was that people would inevitably let him down… And he them as well. All it took was time.
Men he’d admired (there’d been a few on the long parade of mom’s boyfriends) would appear and suddenly life would be perfect for a while. His mother would ask after his grades and make sure he had a sack lunch and pretend she’d always been responsible, and Ryan would refuse to be bitter at knowing the only reason she was doing it was not for *him* but for the boyfriend du jour.
But his mother could never hold it together long, no matter how decent the guy, and Trey refused to pretend (when he was around). Eventually his mother would start pouring booze into her soda cans and buying breath mints by the case. She’d stumble and say awful things and her boyfriends would stand there bewildered as their life together disintegrated to dust.
Ryan had tried covering for her, ignoring her, and even raging at her, but none of it worked. The day still came when he woke up and the guy was gone, leaving her passed out on the floor with the half empty glass of orange juice and vodka still in her hand, upright even when she wasn’t – no longer pretending.
Trey liked to pretend he wasn’t a part of them – a part of her – and Ryan couldn’t blame him, but he could also see it didn’t work. His brother’s temper was too quick, his feelings too easily hurt and his morals too flexible for him to find sanctuary elsewhere for long.
He’d come crawling back with false apologies and tall tales of woe and their mother took him back in not because she had to but because she liked to keep her options open, and there might be a time when she could use him like she did Ryan.
As he got older, the men she brought home became rougher and meaner, and she stopped having to pretend at all. She could drink to her heart’s content and didn’t have to worry about looking like a good mother. She luxuriated in being able to say anything she wanted, blaming it on the booze, and did so with zeal. That’s when he learned that some things should just not be said. Ever.
Ryan found that it was smarter to blend in with the wallpaper, to disappear in plain sight, and learned to swallow his hurt retorts and angry comments. It was all just words anyway. Words were just a fancy way of trying to cover up deeds.
He knew it killed her when she had to depend on him, and it was an odd sort of revenge when he came to her rescue. The black eyes and the bruised ribs he got from putting himself between his mother and her men became opportunities to remind her of her failings without saying a word.
He knew it was a sick relationship – had known it for a long while – but she was blood, just like Trey, and the one thing he understood was that family was the one thing you couldn’t walk away from, no matter how awful the train wreck…
Until they did, of course.
He never expected for her to kick him out and mean it. She’d needed him. Despite everything, he’d still do anything for her, and she knew it. He hadn’t seen it coming, but in retrospect, he should have. The moment he stopped being ‘the responsible one’ he became another Trey, and of course she’d want no part of him.
In his heart of hearts, he’d always understood her love was conditional – but he’d never been the one cut from her life before, only Trey had. Now he was old hand at it. It seemed like everyone in his life was keen to take a shot. Even the Cohens.
Whether it was Trey, or the incident with the Dean, or maybe even the fact Kirsten had become an alcoholic, it was clear to Ryan that Sandy no longer loved him. He’d become the burden, the 'problem' Sandy had to deal with, and it kept Ryan up at night.
He knew he had issues with being needed, but it was the closest he could ever get to love, and he knew there were probably professionals who’d love to talk to him about it, but he didn’t care…
It turned out that being blood didn’t matter – love didn’t matter - people could cut him out of their hearts pretty damn easily, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop wanting to be needed and time to start learning to walk away.
It was clear they’d be better off without him. Sandy wouldn’t have to deal with the stress of his schooling; Kirsten wouldn’t have to make awkward conversations with him when it was clear she felt uncomfortable, and Seth… He loved Seth, but Seth had Summer now, and really, she was a much better influence on him than Ryan could ever be.
They’d opened their hearts and home to him, but in the end there really wasn’t room for one more and he knew it, even if they didn’t yet. But they would, and Ryan didn’t want to be around to see it. He’d endured a lot, but he didn’t think he could handle that.
If only he could walk away from Marissa… His feelings of obligation and duty to her because of Trey had twisted him up to new lengths and he didn’t know how to untangle the emotions. He knew she was a train wreck in so many ways, and was well aware that the more she learned to stand on her own (or find someone else to replace him), the sooner she’d leave him behind, but it didn’t stop him from needing her in his life because she needed him, and how fucked up was that?
Sometimes in the dark of early morning, when his thoughts kept him so wound up he’d get physically sick, he could see the similarities between her and his mother, and it chilled him as he tried to drift off to sleep, but by morning he’d buried it deep enough that he didn’t have to face it in the light of day.
He’d tried to armor himself as much as he could for what was coming with the Cohens, but kept slipping. Being needed was all he’d ever been able to be, and to give it up felt like he was giving up everything he’d ever tried to do, and if all of it was pointless, then where did that leave him?
At a payphone with the number of a man scratched out on the back of business card who he knew absolutely nothing about, who was ready to take him in when everyone else looked away.
So when Marissa came, he realized he wasn’t ready yet to let them go, to let her go, too, even though he knew in the end they’d hate him. He needed them, and dog that he was (as A.J. used to say), he couldn’t help but keep crawling back for more. At least for now.
After all, Sandy hadn’t left him yet.
