Fan Extras > Fanfiction > Title: Every Road Leads to Nowhere [Part 2] Author: Eva Date: 08/21/03 Characters: Ryan Atwood; Joe Catagory: Sexy Adventure, Anguish Insider Rating: R Summary: Continuation from "Everyroad Leads to Nowhere Part 1 Ryan limped with the hobo for mile, through deilds and under bridges, past filthy homeless faces and used car lots. After stopping several times so Ryan could catch his breath and his companion could swig from his bottle, they finally reached their destination. "This is it, kid." Ryan looked skeptically at the run down two story house. The olive green paint was peeling and the shutters hung loosely from the window frames. Through those windows Ryan could see that it was dark inside. He stole a glance at the hobo and saw him grinning widely. "Sure nuff! He'll fix you right up!" Ryan looked back to the house and gritted his teeth. "Well, no use wasting time," he said, pulling himself up the stairs. The hobo nodded, and followed him up. A small white haired man answered the door. "Here to see the doctor again, Joe?" The hobo, whose name was apparently Joe, nodded enthusiastically, and jerked a thumb at Ryan. "Kid here's got a nasty cut," he explained. "It'll start to fester soon, I figure, so I bring him here." The old man looked Ryan up and down, giving him a distinctly uneasy feeling. Finally the man opened the door wider and gestured for the two to come inside. "This way, please." * * * The inside smelled as dank and musty as it looked. Ryan followed the two men at a distance, taking in his surroundings and memorizing the layout of the house, in case he needed to get away quick. Just inside the front door there was a steep, narrow staircase, carpeted in red. To the right was a long, dark hallway, littered with table holding vases full of wilted flowers. They'd gone to the left, through what looked like a sitting room, stuffed full of antique furniture and stacks of books. There was a closed door on the far end of the room , but they went to the right, through another door into another long hallway. Ryan eyed the doorways in the hall warily, half expecting a goblin to pop out of one. At the end of the hall, a dark staircase wound down and out of sight. The old man stopped and turned to face them. "This is as far as you go Joe," he said to the hobo, who was dry washing his hands and giggling to himself, "You know the rules." "Fix you right up, kid" Why does he keep saying that? Ryan thought. This is like some bad fucking B rated horror movie or something.. The old man waited as Ryan grappled inwardly for courage. He took his pack from Joe and shifted his weight to his good leg. "Let's go then." They started down the stairs into the blackness. Ryan's muscles tensed, ready for any kind of trouble as he leaned heavily on the creaky wooden railing. Just as he was about to say Fuck This, and turn around, they came to the bottom. A door stood partially open, letting out a weak light. The old man pushed the door open more and pushed Ryan gently towards it. Ryan, keeping his eyes on the old man as he walked forward, was filled with a growing feeling of trepidation, but suddenly the pain in his leg flared up so bad he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. The old man raised an eyebrow and Ryan disappeared through the door. Ryan had seen enough movies to know how the stage was set. Dry ice smoke filled the bottom part of the room, and UV light cast a purplish glow on the whole scene. Cotton cobwebs hung streteched everywhere, complete with the little black plastic spiders. There was spooky music coming from a poorly concealed speaker just inside the door and he almost laughed at the corniness. His laughter quickly faded when he realized fully what he was doing: going to see a crazy basement doctor who had really bad taste, recommended by a hobo he met under a bridge. The pain in his leg moved him forward, despite the insanity of it. At the back of the room there was a thick black curtain hanging just slightly askew, so that he could see light poking out through a corner. He pushed the curtain aside and came into a bright room. There were white cupboards lining the walls and metal tables of all sizes dotted the room. A gurney stood in the center of the room, with a montrous evil looking instrusment hanging above it. Hunched over one of the tables was a medium sized man, long unkempt hair hanging in a ponytail just to his shoulder blades. "So, what is it ya be needin?" Ryan's jaw dropped as the doctor turned around and grinned at him with crooked teeth. "Joe? You're the doctor?" Joe nodded grinned that manaical grin of his. "Oh yessir! Fix ya up right good there son! Step into my office." He motioned toward the gurney. Ryan climbed hesitantly up onto the gurney. Joe, with gentle fingers, pulled the matted cloth away from the wound. Ryan's breath came in through his teeth at the sudden pain. "You're going to have to remove those pants." Joe said in an offhand way, turning to take something from the shelf behind him. Ryan eyed him and, seeing no reaction in the doctor, stood and dropped his pants to his ankles. "Do you work out?" Ryan frowned and the doctor chuckled pleasantly and dabbed some iodine on a cotton ball. "You're a funny kid. This is going to hurt." That was an understatement. Ryan couldn't help but moan a little as the doctor swabbed his wound. Setting the bottle on the table next to the gurney, he pulled another metal table closer. It was covered in various torturous looking metal objects. He pulled a wicked looking curved needle and threaded it with coarse thread from a plastic box. He pinched the skin to bring the edges of the wound close together and poked the needle through. Ryan ground his teeth together and gripped the edge of the gurney. It seemed to take forever, poking in and out, pulling tight to close the wound. By the time the doctor was finished he was sweating and pale. The doctor grinned at Ryan's contorted face and pressed some gauze to the wound, taping it with paper tape. "There ya go kid! Told ya we'd have ya fixed up!" Ryan blinked and stood up, bending down to get his pants. "One thing, though," the doctor said, almost as an afterthought, "There will be the matter of payment." Ryan shook his head. "I don't have any money." "There are other things I can take as payment." Ryan clutched at his pants. "Like what?" Oh god, this is going to turn real bad real soon, I just know it. "I'm sure I'll think of something." The doctor dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand. "I'll find you when I need you." He laughed that wicked laugh again and watched Ryan climb back into his clothes. "Jeeves will see you out." Ryan laughed to himself. Complete with a 'Jeeves' and everything. He hadn't left out a single detail. He picked up his pack and gave the doctor one last look. "Thanks." The doctor didn't seem to hear him as he fiddled with things on the counter and wrote things in a notebook. Ryan shrugged and turned to go. Jeeves was waiting in the blacklight room, with just a hint of a conspiratorial smile on his face. He said nothing, though, and led Ryan back through the house to the front door. "Goodbye." He slammed the door and Ryan stood, shocked. What the hell just happened? * * * Ryan walked down the long gravel drive and pondered his situation. He had nowhere to go, no money, and a bum leg. The first thing he ought to do is find someplace to stay. He walked all day and came to an old junkyard full of rusty cars and vacuum cleaners. He looked both ways to check that it was clear, and heaved his pack over the fence. He vaulted the fence with ease and took stock. Junk. He walked around until he found a car with the upholstry intact. He opened the door and inspected it. It would be a place to stay, at least for the night, which was coming on at an alarming rate. He tried to ignore the pain in his leg and the growling in his stomach as he settled into the backseat of the old Caddy. He pushed his pack under his head and sighed, shedding a few tears before he finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep. The morning came all too soon, with the sun shining right in his eyes and the stifling heat of the bottled up car making his back sweat. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus. When he did, he saw two dirty faces peeking in at him. He sat up quickly and backed against the opposite door. When the faces made no move, he looked closer. They were just kids. No more than twelve. He catuiously moved towards the door they were standing at, and they moved away so that he could get out. They didnt' say anything, just looked at him, taking him in, checking out his pack. He just stared back, and finally one of them, the girl, spoke. "Whathca doin in our junkyard?" "I"m sorry," Ryan said, "I didn't know it belonged to anyone." "Well, you should have known," the boy said reprovingly, "You can't just sleep in a car and expect it not to belong to someone." He put his hands on his hips as if waiting for a reply. Ryan said nothing. The boy frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "So, what, are you gonna go and tell every one you know now that you saw a bunch of kids living at the junkyard, and how much they need a social worker, or some parent, or something?" Ryan laughed. "Why would I do that? I'm looking for a place to live too." The boy's eyebrows went up. "You are?" "Yeah, my mom doesn't want me around anymore." The boy nodded knowingly. "Yeah, my dad said the same thing to me. Well, I'll have to talk to the other kids, but maybe you could stay a little while...provided you did some of the chores, of course." Ryan grinned inwardly and nodded. "Sure, kid, let's do it." "Come on, let's go call a meeting." 2003 Virtual Rain. This is an unofficial fansite with no relation to FOX, Warner Brothers, or any of their associates. This is just a fansite opened for the purpose of exposing the show "The O.C" to new fans across the internet. Original copyright of all photos remain to FOX/WB and are used purely for the purpose of enjoying the show and furthering its fanbase.