A/N Here's my new story! I've started a number of one shots but never really followed through with any of them, so I decided to just wait and work on the new story. I hope those of you who didn't get the option you voted for still read. Know I'll get around to all of the stories eventually. Hope you like the new story. I should post another chapter this coming weekend, so keep an eye out. R/R, and hopefully enjoy.

The alarm clock started beeping obnoxiously loud. Ryan groaned and reached over to turn it off before returning to his previous position, wrapping his arms around Marissa snugly and pressing his nose into her hair. He smelled the vanilla shampoo she had been using since they were in high school and smiled to himself.

"You know, an alarm usually signals you're supposed to get up," Marissa said, not bothering to open her eyes.

Ryan actually smiled now, nuzzling his nose into her neck. "Mmm, twenty minutes."

"You're going to be late for work…"

"I have plenty of time," he assured her, pressing a kiss against her skin.

She knew he felt the goose bumps on her skin, the way her body immediately reacted to his touch. After all this time, it still amazed her every single time she felt that fire deep within spreading throughout her entire body. "For what?" she asked lightly, though they both knew.

"Hmm, a little of this…" He kissed her neck again, leading a trail from the back around to the front, leaving tiny kisses along her jaw. "And this…" He slid his fingers under his old Berkeley shirt she was wearing, pleased to find nothing but bare skin underneath.

When his hand slid dangerously far up her thigh, she turned and kissed him, her breath hitching in her throat. After a long, passionate kiss, she pulled away and gave him a playfully stern stare. "Ten minutes."

He quickly moved them so that he hovered above her, grinning when she let out a tiny squeal of surprise. Pulling his wife beater of his head, he smirked down at her with a twinkle in his eyes that still made her heart flutter. "Fifteen."

Before she could protest, he leaned back down to recapture her lips, effectively winning the argument.

XXXXX

Marissa walked into the kitchen where her four year old daughter sat on the counter eating cereal. Marissa immediately crossed her arms over her chest, giving the girl a look. "Lizzie, what did I tell you about eating on the counter?"

Lizzie gave her mom doe eyes that reminded Marissa exactly of the other Atwood upstairs. "That I can't do it."

"Uh huh, then why are you doing it?" Marissa asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I was gonna jump off before you came but I'm not very stealf," Lizzie said, shrugging as if there was nothing she could do about the matter anymore.

"Stealf? You mean stealth? Did Uncle Seth tell you that word?" Marissa asked, rolling her eyes and inwardly cursing at Seth for teaching her very impressionable daughter yet another word.

"Maybe," Lizzie said slyly. Then, suddenly she seemed to get an idea. "B'sides, you sit on the counter!"

"When?" Marissa asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"All the time! When daddy puts you there and kisses you!"

Marissa's eyes widened and her cheeks burned. At that moment Ryan came up behind her, placing a hand on the small of her back and kissing her cheek. "She's got you there," he said with an amused smile. Then, with a wider smile he turned to his daughter, whom he lifted off the counter and high into the air. "Lizzie Izzie Grace Atwood, how are you this morning?"

Lizzie giggled as Ryan rested her on his hip. "I'm good, daddy.. uh… Atwood." She frowned. "You need more nicknames. And a middle name."

Ryan laughed and kissed her cheek before placing her back on the counter. "Where's my breakfast?"

"Right here!" She reached over onto the paper towel and handed him his bagel.

Ryan pretended to inspect the bagel carefully. "Did you use cream cheese?"

She nodded. "Like papa taught me last week when we practiced smearing."

Marissa couldn't believe her ears. "Wait, Papa has you smearing bagels? What do you use? Knives?"

"Just the butter ones, mommy," Lizzie said innocently.

Ryan could feel Marissa's glare before he even turned to her. "Let's get you off the counter. Counters are bad. You could…fall." He placed Lizzie on the ground. "Go get your stuff to go to grandma and Papa's house!" He watched her run off, filled with love for the ball of energy that was his daughter. Finally, he turned to Marissa and offered her a cute smile. "Isn't she just so cute?"

She continued to stare at him, her look saying it all. "Our daughter is using knives now? Our four year old daughter?"

"Isn't it better to teach through awareness rather than fear?" He offered slowly.

"A knife, Ryan. Our daughter."

Ryan smiled despite himself and walked toward his wife of five years. "Yes. Our daughter." He placed his hands on her hips, his eyes sparkling. "Our beautiful, intelligent, amazing daughter who takes right after her mother."

Marissa wrapped her arms around Ryan's neck, still giving him a look. "Don't try to sweet talk your way through this. I'm not comfortable with it."

"I'll talk to Sandy. It'll be fine." He hesitantly leaned in to peck her lips, almost sighing in relief when he felt Marissa return the kiss a few seconds longer than he'd intended.

"It's your family. Every time she stays over there I swear Sandy or Seth teach her something new," Marissa said, only half joking.

Ryan laughed, shaking his head. "Please. Remember when she stayed the day with your mom and came back telling us that she wanted a new Prada purse to match her shoes?"

Marissa groaned as she remembered. "Okay, so both of our parents are a mess."

"That's why we have each other," he said, smiling. "To fix all their mistakes." He reached over to the counter and grabbed his bagel. "Want half?"

Marissa took a bite from her half of her bagel, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "My god, she has the Cohen touch."

Ryan merely laughed. He had to agree.

XXXXX

After dropping off Lizzie at the Cohen house, Ryan began the drive to Chino. He had graduated from Berkeley in 2010 and immediately found a job as an architect. After a year working for another company, Sandy and Kirsten helped him invest in starting up his own company. It immediately became a success, and now Ryan had various contracts all over Southern California. Sometimes he made day trips to various locations to see how things were going, and sometimes he had to stay overnight if the drive was particularly long. He tried to avoid that as often as possible, always choosing to come home late when he could rather than lose a whole day with Marissa and Lizzie.

The years since Ryan and Marissa's graduation had proved to be long and difficult. Marissa had been set to go to Greece for a year to work on a boat with her father, but Kevin Volchok ended up running them off the road. The weeks and months following that car accident were the most terrifying in Ryan's entire life. To this day he still didn't know how he managed to survive.

Marissa was in a coma for two months and nine days. Ryan was by her side nearly the entire time. He slept in the chair by her bed on the rare occasion he managed to fall asleep, and awoke from nightmares every single time. All he could think about was that night and the weight of her body in his arms as he thought she died. Despite what everyone else tried to tell him, he couldn't move on from what happened until he saw Marissa alive and well and moving on too.

The day she finally woke up he was staring out the window for most of the day. In the distance he could see the beach, all the rolling waves, and it reminded him of the days when they could escape from all the drama and just be together. He thought about how he would always focus on all the bad parts of their relationship, all the fights and tears and drama, when in reality there were beautiful, carefree moments between them when loving each other was enough. Moments when they could just walk on the beach together hand in hand, the sun blowing through their hair, and be content just to be together.

He missed those moments, but he also missed the bad moments, the fights, the breakups, the pain. He missed being able to pick her up when she passed out, missed knowing she would wake up in the morning, missed knowing just how many aspirin to give her to make the hangover go away. He would have given his soul in that moment, would have given the very heart out of his chest, if it would bring her back to him.

He would never forget the scratchy but beautiful sound of her voice as she softly called his name. He would never forget the swell of his chest, the tears pricking his eyes, as he turned and saw those beautiful eyes of hers staring at him from the hospital bed. If there hadn't been a chair right by her bed, he might have fallen to his knees.

He still stayed by her side the remainder of the summer. They didn't get back together even though it was on his mind, but they did become good friends again. He helped her with physical therapy. He drove her everywhere she needed to go. He made sure she was always comfortable since the doctor recommended a lot of rest. He handed her medicine when her head started hurting horribly. He talked to her on the phone and drove to her house whenever she had nightmares of the accident.

When she told him that he had to go to Berkeley without her, he had thought she was insane. How could he possibly leave her after he almost lost her? How could he possibly go to Berkeley without the person who belonged there with him the most? She argued with him every step of the way. She had to stay in Newport for a while to finish physical therapy. She could barely think because of her headaches sometimes, much less focus on class. She had already deferred for a year because of the Greece trip – at least this time she wouldn't be on the other side of the world. Besides, he belonged at Berkeley. He was going to go without her before, anyway, what was different?

He had almost lost her. That really made all the difference to him. He knew what it felt like to think he lived in a world without Marissa Cooper, and he couldn't go back to it. He wouldn't. But he didn't know how to say this, how to voice all his fears, how to tell her that every time he closed his eyes he saw her still body in his arms on that godforsaken road.

In the end, he went to Berkeley. Marissa enlisted the Cohens in her cause, and he really had no choice in the matter. He roomed with a guy named Matthew and studied diligently. He went to the occasional party that Matt dragged him to, but mostly he stayed in studying. Somehow going out and hooking up with a bunch of girls didn't interest him. Even when he tried, his mind always reverted back to one girl in particular, wondering what she was doing.

He kept in touch with Marissa. They started talking on the phone every day. She told him about her recovery. When she had awoken from the coma she had problems walking, both from fractures and lack of use. She worked hard at it, and told him all about the struggles. He told her about his classes, about the other students, about the few friends he had made. She always jokingly asked him if had been to any crazy college parties, but he always smiled and said it wasn't really his scene.

One day in October Ryan came to his dorm to find Marissa sitting on his bed flipping through his Intro to Psychology textbook. She had finally been approved to drive again a few weeks earlier, and with the approval of her mom drove up to surprise him for the weekend.

They spent the afternoon walking around campus. Ryan showed her everything from the student union to all the buildings he had classes in. He showed her the best places in the library to study, and the parts to avoid where students tended to engage in some extracurricular activities. He took her to the hot spot near campus for dinner, and even out for ice cream afterward. They stayed out until Marissa was exhausted, and then he took her back to his room and let her have his bed while he climbed onto Matt's, who was staying with another friend.

Ryan awoke a few hours later to whimpering. He immediately climbed off the bunk and went to Marissa, kneeling in front of the bed. "Marissa?"

She slowly opened her eyes, blinking away a few tears. "Sorry. I just… guess I had a bad dream."

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, brushing her hair from her forehead. Her forehead was damp with sweat, and he realized she still had nightmares from the accident like he did.

"Yeah. It was just a dream," she said, looking away.

"About the accident?" He asked gently.

She bit her lip, avoiding his gaze. "Partly. Partly about Johnny." Ryan began to tense, a knot forming in his stomach at the mention of Johnny, the boy that Marissa had obviously fallen in love with while they were together. "Partly about… Trey."

Ryan blinked, surprised. He still had nightmares from that horrible night when Marissa saved him, though no one knew. Sometimes he dreamt that Trey shot Marissa. Sometimes he dreamt Trey shot him and then attacked Marissa. Sometimes he dreamt that Trey and Volchok both attacked and tried to kill Marissa, and he could do nothing but scream and shout. No one knew these things. He hadn't even told Marissa.

"I didn't know you still dreamt about him," Ryan whispered, looking down at the blanket. He wondered how Marissa could possibly be here with him when she still dreamt of all the awful things that had happened because of him. Trey, Johnny, Volchok – none of that would have happened to her if he hadn't come into her life. She would never have been so horribly and inexcusably hurt.

"I dream about all of it – this last year, that summer, the accident." Marissa wiped away a tear, and only then did he realize that she was still quietly crying. "I've tried to stop, but I can't… I guess my mind doesn't know how to forget all the bad things."

Their eyes locked, and he knew he could tell her it was just a dream and climb back onto the top bunk. He could try to comfort her like he did all those nights during the summer when she called saying she had dreamt about the accident yet again. Or he could do something he'd never tried before – and actually talk. "I still dream about all of it, too," he murmured, brushing a few of her tears away. "All the way back to that night in Tijuana when I found you in that alley. Sometimes I even dream about Chino, back before I even met you."

"You never told me that before," she said quietly, her eyes full of concern and compassion. He wondered why he had never told her everything that happened to him in Chino, why he had always been afraid of opening his mouth and speaking the truth. Maybe he wanted to protect her from all the pain he had felt over the years. Or maybe he had just been trying to protect himself from ever fully letting her in.

Somehow, none of his old reasons made sense anymore. He stared into those changing eyes of hers and remembered all the moments over the summer he had silently prayed he would be able to stare into these eyes again. He had been given a second chance with this girl that he had fallen in love with on a warm August night at the end of the driveway, and he wouldn't lose her – not again. Not ever. If that meant he had to talk, then so be it. He would tell her everything.

"I never told you a lot of things," he murmured with a pang of regret. Swallowing hard, he looked down again. "I never told anyone a lot of things."

"I know," she replied, slowly reaching for his hand and squeezing it gently.

He stared down at that hand, feeling her warmth, and he knew he was so lucky. "I think that maybe I want to now," he murmured. He met her soft gaze again, seeing nothing but compassion. "But…slowly."

She smiled gently, nodding. "I'd like that."

After that weekend Ryan knew he couldn't deny his feelings for Marissa any longer. He was still in love with her. He would always be in love with her, even if they drifted apart and fought and broke up. He was connected to Marissa Cooper in a way he had never been connected to anyone before, and he needed to stop fighting it. Maybe if he did, they would both be happy again.

He kissed her one day while she was telling him a story about Kaitlin. They were walking on the pier eating balboa bars and something about the way her eyes sparkled and the wind blew in her hair made him unable to resist kissing her for one second longer. They had been together ever since.

They married on a sunny summer day a year and a half later with their close friends and family watching. They were young but in the end they both knew what they wanted, and figured everyone else would come around eventually. Much to their surprise, Marissa became pregnant later that year, and in July of 2009 gave birth to their daughter Elizabeth Grace Atwood.

It was hard being young parents, but they managed to make it work. Between the Cohens and Julie, they had more help than most and managed to finish school, work, and take care of Lizzie. Marissa became a nurse and Ryan became an architect. After a few years and some help, they even managed to buy their own large house in the gated communities. The Atwoods were an unconventional success story in Newport, and neither could be happier.

It had been a whirlwind, but Ryan couldn't imagine it any other way.

XXXXX

"Someone is glowing this morning."

Marissa glanced over at the other nurse Ronda and rolled her eyes but smiled. "Yeah, yeah. Shut up."

"Hey, if I had such a hot husband, I'd definitely find time for a morning quickie or two also," Ronda said, winking in Marissa's direction.

"Hey, Mark isn't so bad."

"Honey, have you seen your husband?" Ronda shook her head. "He's on a whole other level."

Marissa laughed, walking into her next patient's room. "Good morning Mr. Stacey. I'm Marissa, and I'll be your nurse until the doctor makes an assessment. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Not going to lie, I'm feeling much better now that you've switched out with that grumpy old guy who works the night shift," Morgan Stacey said, raising his eyebrows. "Not a very nice man, that one."

Marissa merely smiled, glancing at his chart. "It says here that you had some abdominal pain. Has it gotten any worse?"

He shook his head, sighing. "No, though it hasn't gotten much better. I've been here five hours, you know. You'd think that doctor would have been able to tell me what the hell is wrong by now."

Marissa merely smiled sympathetically. "Dr. Adams is a good doctor. I'm sure he'll be able to help you soon."

As soon as she left the room, she frowned. What the hell was Adams doing? He was one of the more frustrating doctors. She had been working in the emergency room for a few years now and had come into contact with a number of doctors, but Dr. Adams was by far the worst. His father owned the hospital, and he pretty much got away with everything. He was lazy, inappropriate, and always late. It just figured that he hadn't really taken the time to help this guy.

Marissa walked to Dr. Adams' office and knocked a few times before entering. "Dr. Adams, I…" She froze when she saw the doctor with his hands squeezing another nurse's bottom and tongue down her throat.

Adams pulled back and glanced over at Marissa with an amused expression. The nurse immediately pulled away and straightened her clothes before walking past Marissa and out the door. Marissa merely blinked, still in shock. "Yes, Marissa?"

Marissa finally composed herself enough to address the sleaze. "You have patients, Dr. Adams. Patients who actually expect to get treated."

"Your point?" Dr. Adams asked, walking toward Marissa, his mouth twisted in an arrogant smirk.

"That maybe you should, you know, get to it instead of making out with the nurses," Marissa said, narrowing her eyes at the frustrating man.

"So feisty," he said, stopping right in front of her, so close that she could smell his overpowering cologne. "I like it."

With one last smirk, he turned and walked out the door. With a sigh, she walked out of his office. She couldn't wait to get home.

XXXXX

After surveying the site and making adjustments to his first stop, Ryan was ready to head to the second one a few miles away. He started heading back to his car when his phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, he smiled when he saw Marissa's name. "Hey."

"Hey. How's it going? Have you melted yet?"

Ryan laughed. "I'm fine. It's hot, but it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. How's work?"

"Long. Haven't had time for a break since I got here. There was a bus crash and we got overwhelmed. Things have died down now." She paused, sighing. "What about you?"

Ryan glanced back at the construction site. "Not too bad so far. Only minor adjustments had to be made. I was about to head to the next location."

"I just wanted to see how you were doing, and to ask if there was anything specific you wanted for dinner."

Ryan smiled, looking down. "Anything but that casserole you tried to make last month."

He could hear the glare in her voice, and it made his smile widen. "Okay, that was one mistake."

"It was horrible. Lizzie even agreed, and she eats almost everything," Ryan said, laughing softly. "I could pick something up on my way home for me to eat. I don't know how long I'll be out here. I have quite a few places to go before I make it home."

"No, I'll make something and feed Lizzie then eat when you get home. Do you know how late you'll be home? You know Lizzie's going to ask."

Ryan stared out in the distance, watching the passing cars. "It might be closer to when she falls asleep. I don't know, I'll try to get home as soon as I can."

"Okay, well, I'll tell her then. I have to go, but have a good day, okay? And be careful." He heard the concern, and his smile softened. Marissa always worried about him. It was still an odd feeling, even all these years later. If anything, he still thought it should always be him worried about her.

"I will be. See you at home."

After they hung up, he continued his trek to his car. As he went to open his door, he noticed a kid probably no older than fourteen sitting on a wall by a payphone. The blonde haired boy was looking off in the distance with a frown, his shoes tattered, his clothes wrinkled. Ryan kept his hand on the door, knowing that he needed to get on to the next site if he was going to get home early enough to play with Lizzie before she went to bed, but something about this kid made him hesitate. Finally, he backed away from his car and asked, "Hey kid – need some help?"

The boy's eyes immediately went to Ryan's, and he looked like he would run if Ryan wasn't careful. "I'm fine."

Ryan studied the kid carefully, not fully believing him. "What are you doing out here by yourself? How old are you?"

The boy stared at Ryan with hazel eyes that knew far too much. "I'm fourteen. My dad is coming to pick me up. He won't be happy if he sees me talking to you. He doesn't like strangers."

Ryan wondered if he should believe this boy. Something deep in his gut told him not to, but there wasn't much he could do. "Your dad is coming?" The boy nodded. "When is he supposed to be here?"

The boy seemed to be growing agitated. "I don't know, soon? Look, I don't know you. Why are you asking so many questions? I'm fine, okay?"

"Okay," Ryan said, knowing that this boy wasn't going to tell him anything. He seemed jumpy and nervous, and maybe it was because of Ryan asking so many questions, or maybe it was something else. Whatever the reason, Ryan couldn't do anything more. "Okay, I'll leave you alone. I have work to get back to. I'm an architect. See those construction workers over there?" Ryan pointed to the site where a bunch of men worked building the building he'd designed. "They work with me. My name is Ryan. This is my card." Ryan took a card from his shirt pocket and held it out for the boy. "What's your name, by the way?"

The boy stared at the card, then Ryan warily. "James."

"Okay, well, James, this is my card." James took the card and held it in his hand awkwardly. "It has my cell number on it right there, and the number of my secretary Monica. I know this seems weird for some weird guy to give you his card, but I grew up around here. I know how it is." He gave James a pointed look. "I know how it goes. If you need anything… give me a call."

James looked from the card to Ryan, look confused and troubled all at once. "Look, my dad is going to be here soon…"

Ryan nodded, holding his hands up. "I know, I know. But remember what I said, okay? If you need anything… call me."

James merely nodded as Ryan walked back to his car. As he drove away, Ryan caught sight of James staring down at his card with a curious expression on his face. With a sigh, he headed to his next work site, the boy never far from his mind.

XXXXX

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