Aim for the Throat

When Cohen did emerge from the school he was exhausted and knew something was wrong. A few 'thank God's were said when the three met up, but otherwise they were wordless. Much like Ryan Cohen barely recalled moving from point A to B. Brendon and Ryan were lucky enough to have their child walk out alive. That night when the three drove home the phones were ringing off the hook. Ryan was in charge of handling phone calls, while Brendon quietly waited with Cohen as the teenager made his calls. The first call wasn't promising.

He called Sam, but with no answer and all Brendon could do was reassure him the Sam was probably just as tired as everybody else and shaken from the day. Cohen knew that wasn't Sam and simply agreed out of fear, then continued to go down the list of his contacts. Then Ryan came in with the home phone with a call from Sam's parents. Ryan left, but Brendon waited and watched as Cohen's conversation progressed.

"Cohen?" Her mother's voice was soft and tranquil.

"Is Sam ok?" His voice was shaky in comparison.

"Cohen," She repeated calmly, "She was shot today."

"What? No, you're joking. This isn't funny, I've been trying to call her all night." Cohen shifted on the corner of his bed. Brendon leaned against his son's wall near the door, but was starting to stand fully up.

"I'm not joking with you. She was shot in the head and the paramedics said it take long for her to pass. It was quick…She looks pretty good if you want to see her before the funeral."

"Wh-what?" A glimmer of hope surged in Cohen's stomach, maybe it was still a joke, "She's--"

"If you want you can come to the morgue. If you need anything we are all here to talk." It was surreal how composed and peaceful her mother was. Cohen was struck and then it started sinking in all the way like a sharp blade.

"I'll see if I'm up to it…I have to go now." By the end of it Cohen's voice was barely audible. The phone beeped as Cohen clicked it off.

"How is she?" Brendon grinned optimistically at him.

"She's dead," He started lowly.

"Oh no." Brendon covered his mouth.

That's when Cohen lost it. Oh no was the last thing he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that she was alive. That she was ok, that she was with him, pr that she wasn't even in class that day. Cohen was even sure what he was yelling, but it was pouring out of his mouth like a river.

Brendon was alarmed, he felt like Cohen was shouting at him, and Ryan knew all the way from the kitchen what was happening. Brendon tired to give Cohen a hug, but was quickly thrown off and thrown out, leaving the grown man with a new sense of rejection. Ryan shrugged and speechlessly and tenderly led Brendon back to their room, where they both helpless and thought "At least it wasn't Cohen".