Title: Hello, Ryan
Chapter: 1
Author: Antigone11
Rating: PG-13 (language and violence)
Summary: Ryan gets an unwelcome visit from his father
"Hello, Ryan."
At the entrance to the living room, Ryan froze. He'd always thought that was a stupid expression, but now, with a chill sweeping instantaneously over and through his entire body, he understood. His heart, his mind, his soul, were, literally, frozen. Seth, still laughing from their playful fight over who would have to help Kirsten call for a take out dinner, kept moving into the living room.
Sandy shouted, "Seth!" and started to rise from the couch.
"Sit the fuck down!" Several things happened simultaneously. A strong arm shoved Sandy back onto the couch. Another one grabbed Seth and threw him down next to his father. A soft moan sounded from Kirsten as she sat in a chair nearby. And one man, tall and burly and dark, grinned at Ryan from the middle of the room.
"Come on in, son."
The pounding from Ryan's heart was so loud he couldn't hear what was being said. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what his eyes were telling him. Three men stood in the Cohen's living room. His father and two others he never saw before. They all wore coveralls, like the guys from the carpet cleaning company. Ryan didn't remember ever seeing his father so clean shaven. The man standing next to the couch was shorter and stockier than his father and had a bright shock of red hair. And held a gun. Pointing at Sandy's head.
Ryan couldn't process that, so his gaze slid slowly along the couch to where Seth sat, white faced and terrified, and for once in his life, absolutely speechless. Seth clutched his father's hand so tightly that Ryan was sure Sandy was going to end up with a bruise.
Another fearful moan from his right caused Ryan's head to swing over to Kirsten. The third man had moved back to stand behind the chair Kirsten sat in. He looked enormous, completely dwarfing both Kirsten and the delicate chair. What had Kirsten called it? Louis XIV or something? Ryan couldn't stop the random thoughts from popping into his head. Anything to stop thinking about the grip that man had on Kirsten's shoulder. The tears running silently down her face. The way her eyes moved frantically between Sandy, Seth, Ryan and the man in the middle of the room.
"Get in here, Ryan!" Dave Atwood snarled as his son continued to stand, motionless, in the entry. That tone pierced the fog in Ryan's brain and he jerked. Stiffly, as if he had to consciously force each muscle to move, Ryan walked into the room.
"How did you find me? When did you get out? How come no one told me? How did you get in here?" The questions tumbled from Ryan almost as if he'd been possessed by Seth.
"Me and the boys, we're out on a, um, work release program." Dave laughed. At Ryan's bewildered look, Dave continued, "The warden doesn't know about it yet, so don't tell him, OK? It's not actually...'official'. I just wanted to stop by. Meet your new family." Dave's voice started out sounding almost friendly. By the time he mentioned Ryan's 'new family,' his tone was low and harsh.
"Yeah, and that moron at the gate just waved us though. He didn't even check to see if we were legit. Man, you guys really need a new security company." The man holding the gun on Sandy spoke in a high, reedy voice.
"Shut the fuck up, Mike!" Dave snapped. Mike's red hair flipped forward as he quickly looked down, intimidated.
"How did you know where I was, Dad?" Ryan repeated warily. "Why are you here?"
"Your stupid bitch of a mother wrote me. Goddamn Trey gets locked up and drags you down with him, and to top it off, that slut of a woman whines to me about the whole goddamn mess! God! What a fucking bunch of losers!" Dave gazed around the Cohen's living room. "You somehow managed to land on your feet though. What did your mother say, your 'do gooder, pansy of a defense attorney' took pity on you and took you in? What did you have to do to live here, Ryan? Bat your big blue eyes at this fuck?" He gestured toward Sandy.
Kirsten gasped. Sandy and Seth sent identical glares at Dave. Sandy wanted nothing more than to give into his black rage and pound Dave Atwood's face into hamburger. But the feel of Seth's vice-like grip on his hand and the look of sheer terror on his wife's face over-rode all other considerations. His family was in danger and Sandy felt utterly helpless to do anything about it.
As his father's tirade continued, Ryan flushed red, then grew pale. "Shut up! Don't talk about the Cohens that way!"
His father's abrupt move caught Ryan completely unawares, sending him crashing to the floor. He almost welcomed the familiar taste of blood from his split lip. It helped clear the remainder of the fog that had enveloped him. He looked up at his father. "Can't you believe that somebody just wanted to help me? You certainly never did!"
Ryan knew it was a mistake the second he released the words, but somehow he couldn't help himself. When someone pushed him, he had to push back.
"You goddamn punk!" Even his two accomplices looked a bit squeamish as Dave kicked Ryan repeatedly in the side. Battered by the pain, Ryan blindly reached out, clawing his fingers into the thick Oriental rug, trying to pull himself away from his father's heavy boots. One last kick and Ryan was flipped over onto his back, panting harshly, his arms wrapped tightly around his ribs.
"Stop it!" Kirsten screamed. She lunged forward, breaking the grip of the man behind her, and fell to her knees next to Ryan, awkwardly trying to gather the boy up in her arms. "Please! Leave him alone!"
Ryan wasn't big, but neither was Kirsten. He felt vaguely surprised when she managed to prop him up against her chest, clutching him to her as Dave took a step forward.
Ryan groaned. The fog was back. He tried to straighten up, knowing that weakness to Dave Atwood was like a red flag to a bull. He also knew that under no circumstances would he let his father hurt Kirsten.
Dave took another step towards Ryan and Kirsten and stopped. He realized the situation was rapidly getting out of control. Tension hung in the air like dust motes waiting to ignite. The woman's husband was about to storm off the couch, regardless of his son beside him. And the kid himself, showing more guts than Dave would have given him credit for, was also starting to stand up. Dave took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the reason he was here.
"Everybody stay exactly where you are," Dave snapped. "One more move and things are going to get bloody."
Sandy and Seth slowly settled back into the couch cushions. Kirsten, her momentary courage leaking away at the thought of more violence, stilled the slight rocking she'd been doing. She rested her cheek on top of Ryan's hair and prayed that her family would survive this intact.
Dave cast his gaze around the room. George lurked ridiculously behind the spindly chair. Dave shook his head. Stupid idiot couldn't even keep a one hundred pound woman in a chair! Mike looked uneasy, but he was holding firm next to the couch, gun hand unwavering.
The Cohens looked terrified, subdued, and angry, all at once. Ryan was staring blankly up at him from the floor. Things were back under control.
"Enough of this shit!" Dave made sure he had everyone's attention. "We just want some traveling money and then we'll blow. Dawn told me all about the set up: the pool house, the maid.. You've got to keep cash here. Where is it?"
Kirsten was caught off balance by the sudden change in topic. She glanced nervously at Sandy. "I've got some cash in my purse. There's probably $100 in there. Just take it."
"My wallet's in my jacket. I just stopped at the ATM..that's $200."
"300 bucks? Are you fucking kidding me? You think we went through all this for 300 bucks?"
Ryan started to tremble as he saw his father clench and unclench his fists. As he remembered from his childhood, that was a major warning sign. Kirsten felt Ryan shudder and tried to reassure him. "Sssshhh. It's OK, Ryan." She stroked his hair.
"Where's your safe?"
"We don't have one. We don't keep a lot of cash in this house." Sandy sensed Dave's growing anger and spoke evenly, trying to calm him down. God help them all if Dave erupted again. Sandy felt acid bubbling in his stomach. He didn't care if he got shot, he couldn't watch Dave hurt anybody else, but he wouldn't be endangering himself if he acted, he'd be risking his family. God, what was he supposed to do?
Seth was paralyzed. He couldn't even feel his hand anymore, the one that was holding onto his father. But it remained his lifeline and he wasn't going to let go. He wanted his mother too, but he was glad she was with Ryan. Ryan needed her. Ryan might not admit it, but he needed all of them. And they needed him. They were a family now. Not just a married couple with a child. Did Ryan even realize it? He'd barely interacted with his parents before Ryan came to the house. Now they played videogames together! How geeky was that? Nice, but geeky. Anyway, that was Ryan's doing. He allowed them to step back from the shallow Newport scene and see it through fresh eyes. See how superficial it really was. Normally, Seth was grateful when a dose of reality hit Newport, but today, he wanted his protective bubble back. The bubble that kept Seth as naïve as he knew he was. Ryan wasn't paralyzed. Ryan was shaking so hard it hurt Seth's bones to watch him. Seth followed Ryan's gaze to Dave Atwood's right fist. Ryan was staring at that fist, unblinking, as it opened and closed, each time a little more violently.
"I know where she keeps her jewelry," Ryan blurted out.
"Hello, Ryan."
At the entrance to the living room, Ryan froze. He'd always thought that was a stupid expression, but now, with a chill sweeping instantaneously over and through his entire body, he understood. His heart, his mind, his soul, were, literally, frozen. Seth, still laughing from their playful fight over who would have to help Kirsten call for a take out dinner, kept moving into the living room.
Sandy shouted, "Seth!" and started to rise from the couch.
"Sit the fuck down!" Several things happened simultaneously. A strong arm shoved Sandy back onto the couch. Another one grabbed Seth and threw him down next to his father. A soft moan sounded from Kirsten as she sat in a chair nearby. And one man, tall and burly and dark, grinned at Ryan from the middle of the room.
"Come on in, son."
The pounding from Ryan's heart was so loud he couldn't hear what was being said. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what his eyes were telling him. Three men stood in the Cohen's living room. His father and two others he never saw before. They all wore coveralls, like the guys from the carpet cleaning company. Ryan didn't remember ever seeing his father so clean shaven. The man standing next to the couch was shorter and stockier than his father and had a bright shock of red hair. And held a gun. Pointing at Sandy's head.
Ryan couldn't process that, so his gaze slid slowly along the couch to where Seth sat, white faced and terrified, and for once in his life, absolutely speechless. Seth clutched his father's hand so tightly that Ryan was sure Sandy was going to end up with a bruise.
Another fearful moan from his right caused Ryan's head to swing over to Kirsten. The third man had moved back to stand behind the chair Kirsten sat in. He looked enormous, completely dwarfing both Kirsten and the delicate chair. What had Kirsten called it? Louis XIV or something? Ryan couldn't stop the random thoughts from popping into his head. Anything to stop thinking about the grip that man had on Kirsten's shoulder. The tears running silently down her face. The way her eyes moved frantically between Sandy, Seth, Ryan and the man in the middle of the room.
"Get in here, Ryan!" Dave Atwood snarled as his son continued to stand, motionless, in the entry. That tone pierced the fog in Ryan's brain and he jerked. Stiffly, as if he had to consciously force each muscle to move, Ryan walked into the room.
"How did you find me? When did you get out? How come no one told me? How did you get in here?" The questions tumbled from Ryan almost as if he'd been possessed by Seth.
"Me and the boys, we're out on a, um, work release program." Dave laughed. At Ryan's bewildered look, Dave continued, "The warden doesn't know about it yet, so don't tell him, OK? It's not actually...'official'. I just wanted to stop by. Meet your new family." Dave's voice started out sounding almost friendly. By the time he mentioned Ryan's 'new family,' his tone was low and harsh.
"Yeah, and that moron at the gate just waved us though. He didn't even check to see if we were legit. Man, you guys really need a new security company." The man holding the gun on Sandy spoke in a high, reedy voice.
"Shut the fuck up, Mike!" Dave snapped. Mike's red hair flipped forward as he quickly looked down, intimidated.
"How did you know where I was, Dad?" Ryan repeated warily. "Why are you here?"
"Your stupid bitch of a mother wrote me. Goddamn Trey gets locked up and drags you down with him, and to top it off, that slut of a woman whines to me about the whole goddamn mess! God! What a fucking bunch of losers!" Dave gazed around the Cohen's living room. "You somehow managed to land on your feet though. What did your mother say, your 'do gooder, pansy of a defense attorney' took pity on you and took you in? What did you have to do to live here, Ryan? Bat your big blue eyes at this fuck?" He gestured toward Sandy.
Kirsten gasped. Sandy and Seth sent identical glares at Dave. Sandy wanted nothing more than to give into his black rage and pound Dave Atwood's face into hamburger. But the feel of Seth's vice-like grip on his hand and the look of sheer terror on his wife's face over-rode all other considerations. His family was in danger and Sandy felt utterly helpless to do anything about it.
As his father's tirade continued, Ryan flushed red, then grew pale. "Shut up! Don't talk about the Cohens that way!"
His father's abrupt move caught Ryan completely unawares, sending him crashing to the floor. He almost welcomed the familiar taste of blood from his split lip. It helped clear the remainder of the fog that had enveloped him. He looked up at his father. "Can't you believe that somebody just wanted to help me? You certainly never did!"
Ryan knew it was a mistake the second he released the words, but somehow he couldn't help himself. When someone pushed him, he had to push back.
"You goddamn punk!" Even his two accomplices looked a bit squeamish as Dave kicked Ryan repeatedly in the side. Battered by the pain, Ryan blindly reached out, clawing his fingers into the thick Oriental rug, trying to pull himself away from his father's heavy boots. One last kick and Ryan was flipped over onto his back, panting harshly, his arms wrapped tightly around his ribs.
"Stop it!" Kirsten screamed. She lunged forward, breaking the grip of the man behind her, and fell to her knees next to Ryan, awkwardly trying to gather the boy up in her arms. "Please! Leave him alone!"
Ryan wasn't big, but neither was Kirsten. He felt vaguely surprised when she managed to prop him up against her chest, clutching him to her as Dave took a step forward.
Ryan groaned. The fog was back. He tried to straighten up, knowing that weakness to Dave Atwood was like a red flag to a bull. He also knew that under no circumstances would he let his father hurt Kirsten.
Dave took another step towards Ryan and Kirsten and stopped. He realized the situation was rapidly getting out of control. Tension hung in the air like dust motes waiting to ignite. The woman's husband was about to storm off the couch, regardless of his son beside him. And the kid himself, showing more guts than Dave would have given him credit for, was also starting to stand up. Dave took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the reason he was here.
"Everybody stay exactly where you are," Dave snapped. "One more move and things are going to get bloody."
Sandy and Seth slowly settled back into the couch cushions. Kirsten, her momentary courage leaking away at the thought of more violence, stilled the slight rocking she'd been doing. She rested her cheek on top of Ryan's hair and prayed that her family would survive this intact.
Dave cast his gaze around the room. George lurked ridiculously behind the spindly chair. Dave shook his head. Stupid idiot couldn't even keep a one hundred pound woman in a chair! Mike looked uneasy, but he was holding firm next to the couch, gun hand unwavering.
The Cohens looked terrified, subdued, and angry, all at once. Ryan was staring blankly up at him from the floor. Things were back under control.
"Enough of this shit!" Dave made sure he had everyone's attention. "We just want some traveling money and then we'll blow. Dawn told me all about the set up: the pool house, the maid.. You've got to keep cash here. Where is it?"
Kirsten was caught off balance by the sudden change in topic. She glanced nervously at Sandy. "I've got some cash in my purse. There's probably $100 in there. Just take it."
"My wallet's in my jacket. I just stopped at the ATM..that's $200."
"300 bucks? Are you fucking kidding me? You think we went through all this for 300 bucks?"
Ryan started to tremble as he saw his father clench and unclench his fists. As he remembered from his childhood, that was a major warning sign. Kirsten felt Ryan shudder and tried to reassure him. "Sssshhh. It's OK, Ryan." She stroked his hair.
"Where's your safe?"
"We don't have one. We don't keep a lot of cash in this house." Sandy sensed Dave's growing anger and spoke evenly, trying to calm him down. God help them all if Dave erupted again. Sandy felt acid bubbling in his stomach. He didn't care if he got shot, he couldn't watch Dave hurt anybody else, but he wouldn't be endangering himself if he acted, he'd be risking his family. God, what was he supposed to do?
Seth was paralyzed. He couldn't even feel his hand anymore, the one that was holding onto his father. But it remained his lifeline and he wasn't going to let go. He wanted his mother too, but he was glad she was with Ryan. Ryan needed her. Ryan might not admit it, but he needed all of them. And they needed him. They were a family now. Not just a married couple with a child. Did Ryan even realize it? He'd barely interacted with his parents before Ryan came to the house. Now they played videogames together! How geeky was that? Nice, but geeky. Anyway, that was Ryan's doing. He allowed them to step back from the shallow Newport scene and see it through fresh eyes. See how superficial it really was. Normally, Seth was grateful when a dose of reality hit Newport, but today, he wanted his protective bubble back. The bubble that kept Seth as naïve as he knew he was. Ryan wasn't paralyzed. Ryan was shaking so hard it hurt Seth's bones to watch him. Seth followed Ryan's gaze to Dave Atwood's right fist. Ryan was staring at that fist, unblinking, as it opened and closed, each time a little more violently.
"I know where she keeps her jewelry," Ryan blurted out.