Slightly AU. Ryan is Sandy's son that he never knew existed. Both he and Seth are sixteen. Sandy and Kirsten also have a four year old daughter, Rosie. It otherwise pretty much starts where the series started. I think I explain most of the other AU stuff throughout the story. If not, I'd appreciate comments on what's not clear or any kind of constructive criticism. Story goes back and forth between Sandy's perspective and Ryan's perspective. Sandy's first.
Disclaimer: I don't own the OC or its characters.
Sandy had tried his hardest to push aside the idea of having a second son. He couldn't count the number of times he had told himself that there was no reason to worry until the paternity test came back. What were the chances anyway? He wasn't even sure if this "Atwood" woman had been the one he had had the one night stand with. He was drunk. He was upset. It was a mistake.
He knew it was a mistake the minute he sobered up. Sleeping with a stranger had been a mistake and considering divorce after one fight with the woman he loved was a mistake. It was less than a month after Kirsten and he had made up, less than a month after their temporary split and his drunken mistake, that Seth was conceived.
Sandy didn't want to think about the fact that he may have slept with a woman who would abandon her teenage son in jail instead of taking him home. He didn't want to think about the kind of son that woman would raise. He couldn't think about what was going to happen if he suddenly became the sole caretaker of a sixteen year old stranger. He couldn't and he successfully stopped himself from letting any scenarios linger in his head. He had avoided worrying about it until the social worker called and he didn't have the option anymore.
It had been weeks since Ryan had his cheek swabbed. The juvie doctor muttered something about DNA when he had asked about it. Ryan wasn't sure why they needed his DNA. His lawyer had said that the case was closed. He and Trey were caught red-handed. DNA wasn't going to prove anything further. He let himself forget about it.
Sandy told Kirsten immediately when he got the call requesting the paternity test. She, too, had refused to worry about it. Sandy had the feeling that her tactic was born out of denial but hoped that it was all a mistake and it wouldn't become a problem. Now that it officially was Sandy's problem – their problem – they had to deal with it. At least Sandy did. Now his wife was avoiding him and his son wasn't speaking to him. His four year old on the other hand was completely indifferent to Sandy telling her that they might have a houseguest for a few days.
Ryan had tried his whole life to not imagine what jail would be like. One of his earliest memories was watching a neighbor get dragged, screaming, into the back of a cop car. He didn't remember why the man was arrested, but he did remember his mother telling him between puffs of a cigarette that he would die locked in a tiny cell. He had even more reason to wonder what it would be like when his father got carted away, but by the time it happened the year before, Ryan was smart enough to not let his mind wonder.
He was glad he hadn't wasted his youth imagining what he was now going through. It wasn't the worst kind of hell Ryan could imagine, but it definitely wasn't any kind of vacation. The guards didn't beat him as much as his father had but the other inmates harbored a different kind of aggression than his father had. Ryan wasn't sure if they were really more vicious or if he was just upset that he was getting beaten up by boys his own age without Trey to protect him.
The drive to the juvenile detention center is almost two hours. Sandy finally lets his curiosity get the best of him. Where did Ryan grow up? How come his mother never contacted him earlier? What was he like? Was he a hardened criminal?
Sandy considered picking up Ryan's file before going to the prison but decided against it since it would be an extra forty five minutes out of the way. He convinced himself that it was more important to get to Ryan and see for himself. He immediately regrets his decision when the desk clerk tells him that Ryan may not be released anytime soon because he was in solitary confinement.
The social worker told Sandy that Ryan had been caught stealing a car, but hadn't said much else. Sandy called the man twice, with no answer, before someone finally came out and said that they had begun to process Ryan's release and then another eight times, with still no answer, in the following four hours that Sandy sat and waited for his new son to emerge.
It hadn't been Ryan's first time in solitary. He was usually sent there for "fighting." He wasn't sure whether the guards always stuck him in because they personally hated him or if it was to protect him from getting picked on and beaten up. When the guards let him out, they don't lead him back to the other boys.
They lead him back to his empty cell. He knew it wasn't protocol but hoped it wasn't a mistake. He would much rather sit alone in his bunk and read than sit with everyone else for "activities." Ryan stares at the man hovering in the doorway when he says "Get your things." He must have stared for too long because the guard felt it would be okay to shove him to the ground. "You're dad's here to pick you up. You're going home." He gathers his things up as slowly as he thinks he can without making the guard angrier.
His dad was supposed to be in jail. Why did he get out so soon? Why was he the one coming to get Ryan? More importantly: what was he going to do to Ryan when they got home? Ryan stopped while walking down the hall and turned around to ask the guard if he could just stay in and fell to the ground. Two boys had tackled him and began punching. The guard got revenge for Ryan taking so long to pack his things by taking his own sweet time to pull Ryan out of the mess.
His father's punishment was going to be severe, but at least he knew what to expect from him. He wasn't sure he could take getting jumped by random kids for no reason for much longer. Hobbling, he follows the guard the rest of the way without saying a word.
