Just a little drabble. Usual disclaimers apply. Let me know what you think.

"Caleb Nichol." The beefy man in a bad suit paused for a beat. "You're under arrest."

Ryan gripped the top of the front door until his fingers turned white and the blood stopped circulating. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he could tell that none of the adults, especially Seth's grandfather, looked surprised.

"What took you so long?" Caleb calmly stood and put on his jacket as the police detective stepped into the room, followed by the other two officers.

Seth looked bewildered, Ryan noticed as his stomach tightened and his vision blurred, making room go fuzzy.

"What's going on?" Seth's voice was shaking.

"Your father will explain," Caleb said.

Ryan was suddenly eight again. His hair was bleached blond from the sun, his skin milky white. The tee shirt he had grabbed from Trey's drawer earlier that morning, because he had nothing clean left in his own drawer, hung at his neck. His pants were baggy, because that was how he liked to wear them.

"Roger Atwood."

Roger stood up. He stole a glance at Dawn and his shoulders seem to sag. The beefy man in the sports jacket barreled into the house, not noticing when he knocked over the umbrella stand. Two uniformed police officers followed.

They had all been sitting down around the kitchen table together for the first time in weeks. Dad had brought home bags of groceries and Mom had been able to cook them a steak dinner. Ryan had never tasted steak before. There had been a fresh salad too and baked potatoes with melted butter. Neither Ryan nor Trey asked where the money to buy all the stuff had suddenly come from. They were too busy enjoying the first real meal they had eaten that wasn't the putrid cafeteria food that they got for free at school.

He had thought everyone seemed so happy. Trey hadn't given anyone any lip the entire meal. He didn't play with his food, but kept his head down, shoveling the steak and potatoes into his mouth. Dawn leaned over and helped Ryan cut his steak into bite size pieces and even smiled and patted his head as he hungrily ate the meal. And Roger was looking around the table, drinking in the scene as if it was Heineken.

"You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand these rights?"

The uniformed police officer kicked Roger's legs apart and yanked his hands up behind his head. "Do you understand these rights?" the officer asked.

"Do we have to do this in front of the kids?"

They didn't answer, but the man, just knocked Roger down to the floor and kneed him in the back. He patted down Roger, feeling for any concealed weapons.

"You have the right to speak to an attorney," continued the detective in the crumpled suit, "And to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford one, then one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights?"

"Yes," Roger said numbly.

"Dad, what's going on?" Trey's voice cracked, as if he was biting back tears.

"It's okay, kid. Everything will be fine. The police just need to talk to Daddy. I need you to look out for Ryan and your mom. Okay?"

"When are you going to come back, Dad?" Ryan let go of the doorknob, feeling the blood flowing through his fingers start again almost immediately. He hadn't realized how tightly he had been holding the door.

"I hope soon kid."

But Ryan heard the cop mutter, "In twenty years if you're lucky."

"Why are they taking you, Dad?"

"It'll be okay Ryan. Just mind your mother and brother. Okay?"

Tears flowed down Ryan's cheeks and he felt Trey's skinny arms wrap around him, holding him tightly. He could feel Trey shaking and realized his big brother was just as scared as he was.

"Ryan, are you okay?"

He was no longer gripping the top of the front door, but his hand hurt. He had stepped back from the door, but didn't remember walking back. He glanced at Seth, who looked pale and confused. Sandy was searching for his keys, muttering that if the renovation wasn't finished soon he would move into a hotel.

"Ryan?" Kirsten put a hand on his arm.

Sandy was about to go out the door to follow Caleb to the police station, but stopped when he noticed Kirsten's concerned expression and Ryan's pale complexion. Seth looked confused, as if he were eight again. It didn't feel right leaving his family like that. Damn, Caleb, he thought.

"Sandy, it's okay. My dad needs you. I'll take care of the boys." Her heart had skipped a beat when Sandy had declared himself her father's lawyer. In her wildest dreams she never imagined that Sandy would do it. He hated her father. But family came first to Sandy. Family always came first. While he was protecting hers, she would make sure that theirs was okay.

She took Ryan's hand and held out her other hand for Seth. She wished there was a couch for her to sit on, where she could take both boys and give them each a reassuring squeeze to her sides. But her house was in shambles. Kirsten took each of her boys by the hand and led her sons into the kitchen, urging them to an empty stool. At least they could still find the island counter, even if all the rest of the house's furniture was being stored behind it.

"What's going on mom," demanded Seth.

"What the hell was that?" Trey demanded.

"Trey, don't say hell. And I don't know why you're father's been arrested." Dawn dug into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette. She struck a match and lit up, inhaling deeply and sucking on the smoke.

"Mom, where are they taking Daddy?"

"To jail, moron. That's where the police take people they arrest."

Ryan's lower lip quivered. Tears spilled down his face. "Why? What did he do?"

"I don't know, Ryan." Dawn exhaled a puff of smoke. She flicked her ashes onto an empty plate. "I don't know what this is all about."

"It probably explains the steak and all the food."

"Shit," Dawn muttered. She knew her eldest son was right.

"Grandpa's been indicted for bribing city officials."

"No shit!"

"Seth," Kirsten warned.

"Sorry. But come on. Grandpa's… well Grandpa is a shrewd businessman, but he didn't do that. Did he?"

Kirsten pursed her lips. "I don't know. But whatever he did, he did for this family." Kirsten repeated her father's words to her earlier that morning.

"He's such a screw up," Trey shouted. "He can't do anything right."

Dawn took two long strides and smacked Trey across the face. A trickle of blood came out of his nose. "Don't talk like that about your father. Whatever he did, he did so that you could eat. I didn't see you complaining earlier when you were shoveling the food into your belly."

"I didn't—"

"Don't shit me, Trey. You've been bellyaching for weeks that you're hungry. That you wanted new sneakers. You needed another pair of jeans. He did this for you. And for Ryan!"

Ryan was sitting on a stool, his hand folded in front of him, vacantly staring at nothing. She put her hand over his and peered into his face.

"Ryan? Ryan, snap out of it." When she had his attention she asked, "Are you all right."

"Yeah," he breathed. "I'm sorry about your dad. Is there anything I can do?"

"Sandy will take care of him. He'll be okay. I — we knew this was coming. It wasn't a big surprise."

Kirsten shook her head. Something wasn't right with Ryan. When he had walked in just a half hour ago, he had been smiling and relaxed and now his posture just smacked of his early days with the family. His face was closed off and unreadable. He was distant and non-responsive. He was working hard to be the perfect son. It had to be more than her father's arrest that was bothering him. Ryan and Caleb had never gotten along. They barely had a truce going between them for her sake.

And then it dawned on her, like a light bulb going on in her head. This was obviously dredging up some painful memories for Ryan. Hadn't Ryan come to live with them straight from a Juvenile Detention center? He had been a felon. At least before Sandy had finished representing him.

"Ryan, tell me what you're thinking. Please."

"Nothing." He tried to shake off the fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't make this about himself. This was about Kirsten and her Dad and Seth who had just watched his Grandpa being taken away in handcuffs.

"Ryan Atwood." Kirsten embraced the sternest voice she had. "I don't believe you. I want you to talk. I know you know how. I've seen you do it since you came back from Chino."

"You better talk," Seth warned. "Mom was about to invoke the dreaded middle name."

"I don't have a middle name."

"I know. But she was about to make one up. I heard it in her voice. And if you had been born a Cohen, you would have a dreaded middle name, just so Mom could use it to show she was really pissed."

"I'm sorry, Kirsten. I don't mean to make you angry." He looked at the floor. He was being such an idiot. Why was he always wigging out when the Cohens had more important things to deal with?

"I just want you to tell me what's going on. You look like death warmed over and I think it goes further than watching my father being arrested. It's not like you two have any love lost."

"I didn't want him to be arrested."

"Of course not! That's not what I meant." Kirsten came around the counter and took Ryan's face between her hands. She leaned in to him, whispering into his ear so that Seth wouldn't hear. "Did the police coming remind you of the time you and Trey were arrested?"

Immediately, she felt his body go rigid. She knew she had hit a nerve, but Ryan denied that it was about his arrest the previous summer.

"Then what is it?" She knew she was on the right track or he was lying.

He twisted his wrist cuff and studied his scuffed boots. He'd take some shoe polish to it, he thought, when Kirsten lets me out of the kitchen.

"Polish your shoes, Ryan."

"I don't want to," he whined. He regretted his words instantly, because Dawn came up to him and cuffed his ear.

"I didn't ask you what you wanted to do. I told you to do it, and damn you, you better listen to me. We're going to the courthouse and we're going to look like a respectable family. You got that?"

Ryan nodded meekly, but Trey could never let things go. His older brother laughed — it was more of a snarl and said, "It's hard to look respectable when you're drunk, Mom."

"I'll sober up before I get to the courthouse," she growled at Trey. She took a deliberate step closer to him, and he quickly backed away, grabbing Ryan's arm.

"Come on, squirt," he said. "I'll help you with your shoes."

"Ryan, you can tell me."

Seth slid off his stool. "I'll leave the two of you." He thought it would help Ryan open up to his mom if they were alone. Instead, he noticed Ryan's eyes grew wide. As if he was a puppy about to be hit. So Seth stayed.He stood by the counter and gripped the edge, waiting for his mother to continue.

"What's going on? What are you thinking about? You're shaking."

"It's nothing."

"You're lying."

"Are you thinking about your dad?" Seth asked. "When he got arrested?"

Ryan caught his breath and held it in. He didn't say anything, but Kirsten and Seth were looking at him expectantly and he knew he had to answer. Finally he nodded his head. And it felt good to admit it.

"Oh, Ryan." Kirsten slipped into the stool that Seth had vacated. She drew Ryan into a hug. "I guess we have that in common. Our dads being arrested in front of us. It's not fun. Is it?" Ryan shook his head. Tears threatened to spill, but he bit the inside of his cheek to keep them from falling. "How old were you?"

"Eight." His voice quivered.

"It must have been awful."

"I didn't understand what was happening."

"Did your mom explain?"

Ryan shrugged. "It's Dawn. You know. Besides, I don't think she really knew how Dad had gotten all that money. I guess she knew it couldn't have been anything legal, but she didn't know what he had done."

"Was that the last time you saw him?"

Ryan shook his head. "We saw him in the courthouse during the trial. We had to be there, so that the jury could see he was a family man. But it didn't help. There was too much evidence against him. I didn't really get what was going on."

"How could you. You were so little."

Ryan got up and walked to the fridge. He took out juice bottles for everyone and handed them out. "I'm okay now. I promise. I just have to shake off all the flashbacks."

"I'm sorry the police did this in front of you. In front of both of you."

"It's not your fault. And I know that it really sucks to watch your dad being arrested. I don't think it makes a difference if you know its coming or if you don't know. Or if you're eight or thirty-eight. It sucks."

"Yeah it does," Kirsten said softly and let the tears roll down her cheeks.