Oh my, I can't seem to let the Chino-verse go. I seem to just be re-writing the entire show… This takes place late season 1… I think you'll all remember the drama.

This isn't going to be long, probably just a two-parter. So here's part one. Enjoy.

Written to 'The End's Not Near' by Band of Horses.

Ok, so this was a little awkward, Taylor thought. Theresa was a nice girl, really, and she was very down to earth – a nice break from most people in Newport. But she was Ryan's ex, and currently living in his room, so yeah, it was a little weird. Plus, the girl was really tense.

"I was thinking Japanese tonight," Taylor suggested as the two girls watched TV. "Maybe some sushi…"

"I don't think I should have sushi," Theresa interjected, fear crossing her features. Taylor furrowed her brows. The girl hadn't said 'I don't like sushi', or 'I'm not in the mood for sushi'. It had been 'I don't think I should have sushi'. Why wouldn't she be able to…

"Are you…" she took a deep breath, not wanting to offend the girl, "are you pregnant?" She grabbed the remote, turning the TV off and turning to fully face the girl when Theresa was silent. "You are."

"I haven't told anyone yet," the other girl's voice was whisper-soft, frightened. "You can't tell Ryan. He'll freak." Taylor leaned forward impulsively, hugging Theresa to her as she heard sobs break from the girl.

"What's up?" Ryan laughed warily, looking between the two girls sitting on his bed. They were so different, yet scarily similar. Taylor was like a burst of sunshine, a swirl of insanity that turned his world upside down. But when she needed to be, she was surprisingly level-headed and calm, and that reminded him of Theresa.

"Theresa has some news." He noticed that his girlfriend had her arm around his… ex?... almost comfortingly. Oh God…

"You're going back to Eddie," he choked out, anger rising in him. There was no way in hell he was letting that happen. No. No…

She gathered her strength, looking him in the eyes determinedly. "I'm pregnant."

"What? You're… how?" he sputtered, mind trying to process this.

"See Ryan," Taylor's voice was calm and steady, "when a mommy and a daddy get together, and they close their eyes, and make a wish…"

"This isn't funny," he snapped at her, knowing he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. He was just so angry.

"I know," she was still calm, still gazing at him levelly. "But you're scaring Theresa, and that's not what she needs right now, so calm down."

"Calm down?" he growled, balling his hands into fists. A quick glance at Theresa showed her on the verge of tears, and he knew he should shut the hell up, but he couldn't. "How am I supposed to calm down? She went back to Eddie – the guy who hit her – and came back pregnant? What in that sentence is supposed to make me calm?" He couldn't look at Theresa – for her to be almost crying, she must really be scared – so he focused all of his rage on his girlfriend.

"The part where she left him, and came back." He didn't know how she stayed so calm, especially when he was yelling at her. If he weren't so angry, he'd thank God that he'd been blessed with such an understanding girlfriend.

"Have you told your mother?" he asked, trying to push down the overwhelming urge to run and kill Eddie. There was also a silent question in there: have you told Arturo? Jesus, that was a conversation he didn't want to be present for. If he didn't kill Eddie, Arturo – or Theresa's mother, for that matter – just might. Plus, the last thing he needed was for any of the Diaz's to blame him for not protecting her. He could almost hear Arturo's voice in his head: been so fucking busy in your perfect new life to watch out for my little sister, who do you think you are? You think you're so special now that you've got money?

"No," her voice brought him out of his thoughts. "I'm not going to either. I think… I think I'm gonna get an abortion."

He was torn: yes, he was grateful that she wouldn't be burdened, and that he wouldn't have to deal with an angry older brother, but still… "Are you sure? You don't have to." Words rushed to his mouth, and flowed out of him before he could even think to stop them, "you could stay here. The Cohen's will help. You can stay here, and raise the baby, and we'll help you get on your feet…" He stopped when she shook her head sadly.

"I can't do that, Ryan. I can't ask that of you, of the Cohens," she looked at Taylor, as if to say 'of you'.

"Ryan's right," Taylor agreed quietly. "You don't have to do this. There are options."

"All of which require my mother knowing. I can't just disappear for nine months. I have no other choice."

They sat in silence.

"I'm sorry," Ryan whispered to the top of her head, and she curled tighter into him. "This is so messed up…"

"Ryan," she pulled away slightly, looking him in the eyes, "it's ok. You don't have to feel guilty about wanting to help her. She's a big part of your life, and you shouldn't want her out of your life just because she made a mistake. It's actually sweet, how protective you are."

He smiled, muscles relaxing. "You're amazing, have I ever told you that?" He leaned forward, capturing her lips, and she giggled against him. He rolled her onto her back, getting on top of her… she pushed him away.

"I can't," she shifted away from him.

"What? Seriously?" he whined, flopping on his back with a huff.

"I can't believe you want to," she shook her head, looking up at the ceiling. "Theresa's pregnant because some guy from Chino's sperm was just a little too potent. We're never having sex again."

"So you're gonna have it," he whispered. It wasn't a question.

"I have to," she whispered back.

"Theresa's going back to Chino. She told her mom, and she's going back to live with her," Ryan sat on the bed next to her, head in his hands. Taylor smoothed her hand over his back, trying to comfort him. She knew he felt guilty; responsible. Ryan tried to convince the other girl to stay, though Taylor secretly agreed with Theresa. She needed to go back and be with her family.

"There's nothing you can do," she tried to explain that this wasn't his fault. It wasn't his problem anymore – Theresa had even told him that. He looked up at her with a strange expression in his eyes. "Ryan…" she began in protest.

"I think I have to go back," his voice came out choked, and her heart stopped. This couldn't be happening… not again. "I think I have to leave."

She stood up, for once in her life completely at a loss for words. She tried – opening her mouth once or twice – but ended up walking out, numb.

She'd always prided herself on being understanding. Even when she had no friends, no life, she'd always tried to look at things from the other person's shoes.

And she'd always accepted Ryan for what he was: quiet, brooding, self-effacing, loyal, determined. She tried to let him be who he was, she didn't ask him to change.

This, though, she couldn't understand. Wouldn't understand, because she didn't want to understand. She'd never been this angry in her entire life, even with her drunken, coked-up, emotional terrorist, whore of a mother.

She watched him from afar, hidden by the corner of the Cohen's house, as he shoved clothes into a duffel bag, wearing a beat up hoody and old pair of jeans. He looked like he was going back to Chino, because he was. Theresa stood next to him, waiting, and she tried to hate the girl. She couldn't quite manage it, though. Theresa must be terrified. She was pregnant, and alone, and terrified, and Ryan had offered his help, his support, himself. He zipped up the duffel bag, and the two walked out of the pool house and got in her car.

She slumped back against the wall as soon as it was out of sight, sinking down to the cold tile below. He was gone. He left her. He left with her.

She didn't know how long she sat against the wall of the Cohen's house, trying not to cry but failing miserably. She hadn't cried since that time she thought he'd cheated on her with Marissa. A sob tore from her chest at the thought, of how much it had hurt then, because she wished it hurt that much now.

God, Taylor, I love you.

Now it was worse.

I love you, too.

She wanted to throw up. She wanted…

"Taylor?" She looked up at Kirsten, not able to stop the shaking of her body or the tears running down her face. The woman kneeled down to her level. "What are you doing here?"

She knew this must look strange: her crying against the corner of the Cohen's house. "I came to tell him not to go," she whispered between sobs, "but he was already packing, and she was there, and I just watched him leave." She hadn't been able to bring herself to go to the pool house, so she'd watched him for hours – hiding behind the corner of the main house - as he packed, but she didn't tell Kirsten that.

"Come on," Kirsten murmured, pulling her up by the shoulders. "Let's get you inside." Taylor nodded, letting herself be led into the kitchen, and she dimly felt a mug of hot tea pushed into her hands. She raised her eyes to the woman, and noticed that she was barely holding it together herself. The woman's hands – clenched tightly around her own mug – were shaking, making the liquid swish dangerously close to the edge.

"He's gone," she whispered, and Kirsten dropped her mug to the counter with a loud crash, covering her mouth with her hand as she began to sob. Oh God, what had she done? She rushed to the woman, hugging her tightly, and they both stood, trying to cope. He was gone, and he had left a gaping hole in their lives.

Sandy stormed into the kitchen, panic covering his features, and he stopped when he saw the two of them. "Kirsten," his voice was rough and low, tinged with fear; Taylor had never heard him sound like that. His wife looked up as he handed her a torn open envelope. Taylor could read 'Mom and Dad' written in Seth's handwriting. She realized he had another one as well, this one with 'Summer printed on the front. That one was sealed.

Kirsten gave a heartbreaking wail, shaking hands dropping the white paper onto the counter, and she totally lost it. Her cries rang through the kitchen as Sandy hurried to her side, throwing his arms around her in an almost-death grip, and the two stood together, rocking back and forth.

Taylor backed away slowly; she didn't have to read the letter to know what had happened. Taking Summer's copy of the excuse off the counter, she fled the house, leaving the Cohen's to their grief.

She couldn't bear to give the letter to Summer in person; she couldn't witness another heartbreak. Not again. Three had been enough. So she left it with Dr. Roberts, the man looking at her in confusion as she shoved the envelope into his hand without explanation before stumbling back to her car. She was almost gone, she almost got away.

"Taylor?" Summer ran after her, pounding on the glass. "What's going on?" She shook her head, fumbling to get the keys into the ignition. She couldn't stand another heartbreak. The dark-haired girl stormed around the car, getting into the passenger 's side. "What is this?"

"Seth," her voice broke again, but she didn't have any tears left. A look of despair crossed her friend's features, and she opened the envelope with shaking hands. She watched Summer's entire body go tight as she read, finally crushing the delicate paper and throwing it angrily against the windshield. She said nothing, but her hand lashed out, hitting the door so hard Taylor flinched at the sound. Summer hit the car again, again, again, until she finally broke into small, shuddering sobs.

"That bastard," she whispered shakily, hunching her shoulders and bowing her head.

"Summer, I'm sorry," the urge to throw up was back. She couldn't watch another heartbreak.

"He made me love him."

She looked up, and they exchanged a look of pure understanding.

"Me too."

Review.

p.s. – don't hate Ryan too much…