Survivor's Guilt
The night before Ryan left for Chino, he let Seth fuck him. It was something he knew they'd both wanted to do, but hadn't really been ready for. They'd talked around it for months, but neither of them had pressed the issue. There was finality there; a line that once crossed would change things irreparably. But he'd stifled his own misgivings, and initiated this new phase in their relationship. Now that there was no time left, he wanted to do everything, give Seth everything. As if maybe the memory would be enough to hold them.
And it was a relationship, despite the fact that they had kept it a secret. At least they thought they had. Come to find out, Sandy and Kirsten had suspected, almost from the beginning. "And Seth's running away like that cemented it. I just wish you two would have felt safe telling us. Maybe Seth would be home now."
That was just another thing to regret. If he and Seth had been able to be open about being more than brother-friends, perhaps Seth would have had faith enough in him not to run away. Of course if they'd been openly together, Ryan might have chosen a different way of comforting Theresa. Seth had said he understood at the time. Neither one of them were exclusive - in fact Seth was ostensibly still dating Summer - so neither of them had a monopoly on immaturity
Ryan thought back to that last night He'd never seen Seth so passionate, so eager to salvage things, just knowing Ryan would follow his conscience back to Chino. That he'd never let Theresa go back to the uncertainty of Eddie, that it wouldn't be a matter of 'if', but 'when.' It was an intensity born of anger and regret as much as love. It hurt as much as it felt good, and Ryan felt like he deserved every bit of pain, but none of the pleasure.
Ryan could almost laugh. Here he was, rearranging his life due to the consequences of sex with Theresa, which had really been more of an impromptu 'comforting an old friend' thing, and all he could think about was Seth.
Where was he? Was he safe? Why hadn't he checked in with anyone? Had he taken enough food to last until he made it to a port? Was he really sailing that dinky contraption to Tahiti? Would he know enough to stop if it got too dangerous? Would he even care? The thought that Seth was so distraught over him that he wasn't even concerned about his own safety, or worse, was on a suicide mission, frightened Ryan more than could say. Ryan had never mattered that much. Not to anyone.
When Ryan was a little kid, he'd run away himself. It was just after his dad went to prison. He spent an unseasonably cold night hiding in the concrete jungle gym maze at his elementary school. When he came home the next morning, hoping for a grateful reaction to his return, nobody even noticed he'd been gone.
"Do you know what survivor's guilt is?" Sandy asked him. He'd shown up at Theresa's door a week after Ryan had left, finally deciding pleading phone calls weren't going to cut it.
"I assume it has nothing to do with the feeling you get after watching reality TV, " he said, channeling Seth for a moment that soon fizzled out. Sandy looked at him funny, and shook his head.
"Survivor's guilt comes when you make it through something, and the people around you don't. You might feel like you don't deserve to be alive, or that you're not entitled to any happiness that comes your way when they don't get to share in it. It's something you see a lot with people who live through plane crashes, and the like. Go back a few years, and you have people like my mother. She lost a bunch of her family members in the concentration camps. It was only through the grace of God, working through neighbors who passed her off as their own, that she made it safely to America. And because of this, she always felt like she owed it to her family's memory, and her new country to help as many people as she could. Which is great, but she never really learned you couldn't save everyone. It just isn't possible."
Ryan thought about it. He knew what Sandy was getting at, but he was way off base. He wasn't guilty for having gotten out of Chino, he just knew it wasn't fair. Theresa didn't deserve to raise her baby alone, even if it wasn't his. And she certainly didn't need the fear of Eddie hanging over her head.
"Guilt is a Cohen family trait, you know. It's why I'm sure you're a part of us, despite the blond hair and different name. I see so much of myself at sixteen in you, now. I wanted to do everything right. Thought it would bring my father back, make my mother stay home more. I learned that if you try and help everyone, you just end up hurting the ones you care most about. I'm sure my mother thought she was doing well by us, but really, she was never there. She was busy saving the world, while her kids ate cold cereal for dinner."
"That must be where Seth gets his unnatural love for Cap'n Crunch.." Ryan said.
Sandy laughed. "And Captain Oats. Weird kid." For a moment it was like Seth wasn't gone. But it was only a moment. "God, I miss him."
"So do I."
Ryan tried to imagine "The Nana" as a young mother, and a harried social worker, just starting out. The picture he had of her: frayed dress, cigarette in hand, was not unlike Dawn's, though he imagined her coffee cup actually held coffee. It wasn't the kind of abuse Ryan had had, but Sandy had come through similar beginnings, and had let people help him.
Now he was passing it on. If Ryan promised to do good for others, maybe he didn't have to give up everything he'd gained for himself. Maybe it really was okay to let someone else pick up the slack.
Not for the first time, Ryan noticed all the little mannerisms Seth had picked up from his father. Time and maturity had smoothed Sandy's actions, but Ryan bet he had displayed his own brand of irresistible dorkiness when he was young. He wondered what Seth would be like in twenty years, and even more if he would ever get to find out.
He didn't tell Sandy that he already wanted to come home; that he didn't fit Chino anymore, and Theresa was fooling herself to think he did. That was something to let him know later, once Ryan had convinced Theresa that this was the better idea. He would save all of his Crab Shack earnings for her, and see what else he could do to make money for the baby. He hoped he could get her to come back to Newport with him. Her prospects were better there, and it would be easier to keep her safe from Eddie.
Maybe then Seth would come back, and they could figure out this whole mess. Ryan knew Seth understood Ryan needed to help her. He just hadn't expected Ryan's insanity in the face of her need. Sandy was right. He couldn't rescue her alone. Not without losing everything, and everyone else he held dear.
"Ryan, come home. You don't belong here anymore; this isn't your life. It isn't your job to save Theresa by yourself. Not when you have the support system of a family who loves you. We may not have been there when you were younger, but we're here now, and we want to help." Ryan hunched his shoulders, but didn't say anything. This wasn't Sandy's mess.
Sandy went on. "You were my boy from the moment I saw you get into your mother's car that first day, and feared for your future. Maybe even from that first dumb joke you told, when I knew you had a spark that meant you didn't belong in a place like that, and it was more than just my job to keep you safe, but my duty. And I know Kirsten was a little slow to come around, but she's never had any doubts you belong with us since you risked your life to stick up for her. And Seth? Well, he knows most of all what he's lost, even though neither of you could tell us the whole truth. He thinks he's lost his future."
"I'll think about it, all right?" Ryan responded, though he knew he'd take Sandy's advice as soon as he could. "I promise, no matter what, I'll do anything you need to bring Seth home."
"That's all I can ask. Just know we miss you every bit as much." Sandy said, looking like he wanted to hug Ryan, but unsure how Ryan would take it. Feeling awkward, Ryan let himself be hugged.
It just made him remember the first time he felt Seth's arms around him, when Sandy had tried to drive him home; and the last, when Seth had been pressed naked against his back. Ryan rubbed his neck, as if he could still feel the memory of Seth's teeth imprinted there, small and sharp like the tines of a fork.