Sorry, I had to reload, because I got to write something very important. Thank you Sister Rose for being my Beta. Huge oversight when I first posted.

I posted this on my LJ account, for the TWoP Missing Scene Challenge, but I've become a feedback junkie, so I've decided to post it here too. This takes place between The Truth and The Heartbreak. I don't own it, just play with it. Someone mentioned their desire to purchase it, and yeah, it would be nice, but I can't afford it. I'm a city employee!

Seth was easy. He was straightforward and uncomplicated, I thought as he lounged on my bed holding my borrowed copy of Kavalier and Clay. I knew he could forget everything I had done during this entire Oliver debacle and just go on. And while it would be harder for me to let go of the betrayal and hurt that I felt, I too would be able to let it all go, because Seth was Seth. We'd go back to school, if Dr. Kim lifted the suspension and they decided not to throw my ass out. There would be another Newport function and I'd don a suit and tie. Seth and I would try to get liquor from the bartenders and sneak it past Kirsten and Sandy. We'd nibble at the hors d'oeuvre and poke fun of the Newpsies. Seth's easy nature would allow us to return to a time before Oliver had come into our lives. I wasn't so sure that I could do that with Sandy.

I know what it's like to be abandoned by your parents. Friends. Have no one in your life that believes in you. The words I had spoken to Oliver earlier that evening echoed through my head as I only half-listened to Seth try and distract me by regaling me with his break-up with Anna. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I wasn't interested, that I didn't have the patience to listen to him. My mind was a torrent of thoughts. I felt tired and washed out. I felt empty. I felt betrayed and vindicated all at the same time. My mind was a jumble of contradictory thoughts waiting to explode. But I listened to Seth, because I wanted, no I needed for Seth and me to be all right.

Sandy hadn't trusted me. He had used his lawyer's intuition instead of a father's. He had begged me to talk to him and to explain. Yet when I tried, he cut me off and would only look at the facts. He wouldn't trust my instincts when I told him that Oliver was dangerous. I was the screw-up. The kid from Juvie, who used his fists too often, who had lost it and had beat up on some other kid. I couldn't help but wonder if it had been Seth, would Sandy have believed him or would he have reverted to lawyer mode. I knew I wasn't their son, but both he and Kirsten made such a point of including me in their family, yet when it counted, I was just the outsider.

As soon as I noticed Seth yawn, I shooed him out of the pool house and told him to get some sleep. It had been a long night. A long day. A long week. We all needed our rest. Seth left, still talking a blue streak about Anna and Summer and how we would be all right again, because he would have my back from now on. I didn't see Sandy off to the side looking in.

I started to change, casting my shirt onto the chair. I had my undershirt halfway around my chest when there was a tap on my door and Sandy asked if he could come in. I didn't want to talk to him. But his jaw was set and his thick brows were knit together in deep concentration and I knew he wasn't going away. His look let the butterflies out of their net and they were flapping around my stomach, banging against its lining. I felt like vomiting, but there was nothing inside to purge. Instead, I swallowed hard and backed away from Sandy.

"How're you doing kid?"

"Okay." I had my arms wrapped around my chest and I looked at the floor while I said it. I knew my words and actions didn't match.

"You were great tonight. How you talked down Oliver."

I shrugged.

Sandy sat down in the chair, throwing my shirt onto the edge of the bed. He leaned back and crossed his legs and I knew he wasn't planning on leaving me alone anytime soon.

"I'm tired Sandy. I just want to turn in."

"I know. But you won't sleep much tonight. Maybe if we clear the air you'll sleep a little better." He was asking, not telling me. He waved his hand, motioning to the edge of the bed. "Come on, take a seat," he urged.

Reluctantly, I sat.

"What are you thinking?"

I swallowed and tried to avoid his gaze. My eyes slid to the floor. To Sandy's shoes. To the pool whose water was shimmering in the dark. And the glint of Oliver's gun as he held it to his head, so close to where Marissa was standing came to mind.

"Ryan, you've got to talk," he insisted. "If you keep everything bottled up inside, you're bound to fly off the handle again."

I bit the inside of my lip — hard and tasted blood. Why did Sandy think I was so dangerous?

"Please, Ryan." His arms slid forward on the top of his thighs as he leaned closer to me. "Talk."

"I'm thinking that I really don't want to talk about this."

He sighed and fell back in his chair.

"It must have hurt that we didn't believe you."

"You were looking at the facts." I used my most matter-of-fact voice. "I broke into the file room. I beat up Oliver. I even stole a letter from Marissa's locker." I wasn't sure if Seth had told him about that. I hadn't. But Sandy's face remained impassive. Why wouldn't he think I was the crazy one?"

I didn't tell Sandy what I was really thinking. That I wished he had believed in me and had looked beyond the facts. Even when he had taken the car keys, insisting he would drive to the hotel after Marissa had called me, it was obvious he was still skeptical.

"I never thought you were crazy. Neither did Kirsten. We didn't know what to think. Looking at the facts, you were just a jealous boyfriend."

I shrugged. "It's obvious you don't really know me."

"That's not true!"

"If you did, you would know that I don't do jealously."

"Everyone gets jealous. Even I get jealous of Kirsten. We're human."

He was comparing me to him again. He always did that. Sometimes it was okay, but most of the time Sandy didn't have it right. I didn't know everything about his past life. But I knew that as much as he believed it, we were not cut from the same deck. His dad had left the family. Mine had been dragged off to jail. His mom had coped by working to save the world. Mine had turned to the bottle, drugs and men. Sandy didn't know my life. He just thought he did.

"We're not one and the same." I didn't mean to, but I started to yell, as if the dam had broken. "You don't know me. You know nothing about me. And this whole Oliver thing just proved it." I forced myself to lower my voice. "If you want, I can go to a group home. We don't have to pretend to be something we're not. You're not my father. I'm not your son. I'm just some screw-up you brought home from work to try and prove something to yourself." I stood up and pulled my shirt back on, fumbling to get my arms through the turned out sleeves. I wasn't going to stay. Not where I wasn't wanted or trusted.

"Sit down. Now."

Sandy's sharp voice sent a rock careening to the pit of my stomach. His voice could do that, cause more fear than the threat of my father's belt or A.J.'s fists. He pointed to the bed. I waited for his voice to soften and for him to say something that would temper the steely tone, like the time my soccer coach had called because I had unfairly tackled Luke in practice. Then he had thrown some line out at me about lawyers liking to talk. But Sandy didn't offer any soothing words. The frustration was etched on his face. His finger stayed in the air, unwavering, pointed at the bed. I swallowed hard and sat.

"I know you're upset at me." He waited a beat. "I know I let you down. I heard it back at the hotel and when you were talking Oliver down. I didn't mean to abandon you."

"It's okay," I said.

Sandy shook his head. "No. It's not. You're probably thinking that if it had been Seth, I would have believed him."

I stared, surprised that he had read my thoughts. Maybe he understood more than I gave him credit for.

"Maybe I would have. I don't know. I'd like to think that I treat you exactly the same —"

"We're not the same. Seth is… Seth."

A smile tugged at his lips. The first smile of the evening.

"He's your only child."

"I like to think of you as my son too."

"But I'm not."

"Not yet. And after this week, I don't deserve you."

His words sent a wave of nausea to my stomach. I looked down at my feet willing the sick feeling to go away. Deserve me? It was I who didn't deserve them. I didn't know if I could live up to being part of Sandy's family. It was hard enough just being the kid from Chino in the world of Orange County living with his lawyer, but it was easier than the expectations that came of being the fourth Cohen.

"Why would you want to be my son?" he asked. "This week, I failed you in every possible way."

"You didn't fail me," I said, not entirely believing my words. "You tried to show your trust when you drove to the hotel."

He nodded.

"Even if you didn't really believe me."

"I was trying to listen, because you were talking. Though you're more into the action than the verbal skills."

The corner of my mouth turned up into a half smile.

"I made a mistake," Sandy said. "I do that. I'm not the perfect parent. Ask Seth. But if you give me another chance, we can make it right."

I was always giving my mother another chance. She was always promising to clean up her act and to try and be a real mother. I stared, not focusing on anything in particular, the room was a blur, as I pictured my mother promising me that she would stay away from the liquor and maybe try and find someplace small in Newport up in the numbered streets.

"I'm not your mother. I don't make empty promises and I can change." His voice was firm, though not angry. It was as if he was trying to convince me of it. Damn, how did he do that? Just read my mind like that? Know what I was thinking, when I barely knew how to connect the rambling thoughts in my head. "Ryan, I promise you that I will trust you. I do trust you."

"Okay."

"That's it. Okay?"

I shrugged.

"That seems almost too easy."

"You want me to argue?"

"No."

"Okay."

"So we're fine?"

I shrugged again. "I can leave anytime you want…."

"I won't let you. You belong here with us. Leaving now would just be running away. Part of being a family Ryan is the bad times. It's not all good times. We just have to work through this. I know we can."

"Okay." But his time it came out impatient. I was ready to end the conversation.

Sandy raised his bushy brows. I could tell he was slightly taken aback by my tone. "And just because I'm begging for your forgiveness, I don't want you to think that it's okay to fight even with kids who goad you."

"Yeah. I know." He was begging me for my forgiveness? This was new territory for me.

"But I think after tonight we can assume you've been punished enough. I'm sure after Dr. Kim is apprised of the situation your suspension will be lifted."

"What about the disciplinary committee?" And as I asked the question, I realized that it was starting to be all right. That I could do what Sandy wanted and try to move on and make things all right between us. Just like I wanted. Because I really didn't want to leave.

"They'll meet. But given what happened, I think you won't be facing expulsion. Though I can't promise that they won't mete out some sort of punishment." He stood up and rubbed his eyes. "It's been a long day. I'm ready to turn in. Though I don't know if I can get the image of Oliver holding that gun out of my head."

I nodded, knowing what he meant.

He slapped my shoulders and wished me good night. He held my gaze and I knew that even if tomorrow I'd still be mad at him, that with time we'd forgive each other for all our mistakes.

"Good night kid."

He left and I unbuttoned my shirt for the second time that night and threw the shirt on the chair.