A/N: This chapter is for all those, who had been anxious for some mother-Kirtsen-action ;) Have fun and enjoy

NO!

"You brought him here? What do you think you're doing?" She screamed. She thought she had been clear enough. One night and then to the social service. This was the deal.

"I'm helping a teenager who has nowhere to go."

"But did you think of our family? Did you think of Seth? You've witness, what the boy is capable of." Her husband needed to see the facts. And fact was: this boy was a delinquent – a violent one.

"Yes I did, and we both know Seth and Ryan are best friends."

"Fact is that he's a criminal as I've said all the time before."

"Kirsten, he's not. All charges were dropped, after he apologized for what he had done – without my advice to do so. He had realized what he had done was wrong." He was driving a new road. Now he tried to make her feel bad by telling her what a nice boy this kid was? No, he was not going to convince her in this. No matter how bad his time had been at home.

"If he knows what he had done was wrong, why had he done it?" There, now tell me. Nobody turns from devil into angel over night. Not even this boy.

"Probably because he was afraid of being send into a foster home and one of the guys pushed him down the stairs at the pier. How would you have reacted?" Well, this was…the stairs at the pier…ouch, maybe…No. She wasn't going to relent. Not this time. But away from home, involuntarily with sixteen years…No! It was the best for him. His face had been the best proof. But he was only a kid, beaten up by his maybe-father and then pushed down hard stony stairs. No!

"Well, then why isn't he in a foster home now?"

"Because they have no time to deal with him until Monday." Oh…then…being alone on the streets for a whole weekend. If Seth was in such a situation, she'll never allow him to sleep in the streets. It was too dangerous for boys in this age. They could get hurt or even worse too easily. No. She had to think of her family's safety in first place.

"Well, then there can't be any problem for him he stay two days longer with his Mum." His mother had a responsibility and she wasn't going to take it from her. This wasn't her son.

"She…Kirsten …this…isn't as easy right now. C'mon, after what he had done for Seth…" She hadn't asked the boy for his…blood. On the other hand without his offer they hadn't found anyone and then…She didn't want to think of it. Well, in somehow the boy seemed to have a good heart. He really seemed to care for her son – like a friend, a good one. No. No. No! She wasn't allowed to be convinced by her husband. This would break her. Having to see him two days. How was she supposed to sleep at night? She always would get reminded. She already had a bad feeling for what she had done then and especially for not being able to fulfil her husband's wish for more children. Yes, it was her fault. She knew it. She didn't need to be reminded of it the whole weekend. She didn't deserve it.

"What? Why can't he go to his Mum?" She asked. Her husband's expression changed. His head dropped.

"Sandy?" She knew this meant nothing good. Maybe she still was ill…not out of the hospital.

"She died last night." No?! This wasn't true. He was only sixteen. His Mum wasn't supposed to die this early. A boy in his age needed his Mum, who protected him from men like these…

"And…what about his father?" Not that she liked the idea letting him go back to this man. But her conscience was hurting her, when she looked into these blue eyes.

"In jail, his brother hasn't been found by now."

"At least they caught the man who inflicted these bruises to him." She was satisfied with that result. A man, who did something like that to his son, wasn't allowed to be free.

"This man wasn't his father." Sixteen years, all alone and added to that beaten by some stranger. Could it get worse? This was not …her maternal feelings overwhelmed her. Now with this in her mind, she couldn't let him out onto the streets again. A boy at least needed a roof over his head and a bed. And what about her? She wasn't sure if she could hide her little secret any longer, if she was faced with it from day to day.

"The bed in the pool house is still made."

The boy followed her husband – shyly, head dropped. He looked pretty much uncomfortable. No wonder after such bad days. She saw the gazes on the boy's arms and hands. They looked pretty bad. Hadn't the boy had enough pain for the weekend? Did they need to inflict more to him?

"Hi Ryan, how are you?" She asked him, when he reached her. How…she could have spared herself this question. She didn't like him, but this moment wasn't the right one to let him know. But this blond hair these blue eyes…this reminded of her biggest mistake she had done. He was making her feeling bad. She had wasted a life and now there stood one which couldn't be considered as life.

"Uh…thanks…I'm…I'm fine." He said quietly. He barely looked up to her, but something was strange.

"Do you want to eat something?" She asked him, just to find out what was making her feeling strange or better what was strange about the boy - who again only lifted his head a few inches.

"No…thanks…thanks for everything." His voice still quiet. There was something wrong, but what?

"Okay we leave you, if you need anything, just let us know." Her husband started to be proactive. This was too difficult for her. Damn, since when was acting around people difficult for her? Since there was someone, who didn't allow her to read him - someone who forced her emotions into a conflict: mother versus rationalist. She and her husband went back to their house.

"Something is wrong with him." She stated and sat down in one of the chairs.

"Only a few hours ago he got to know his mother died."

"I know, I know. But that's not what I mean. His behaviour, it's strange to me."

"I don't know what you mean." Me neither. What was it? He was quiet and shy. She had expected a rude, crude and bold teenager. But he was nothing of this. Ha…he was afraid of her! And he had all reasons to. But…there…no traces of tears. There was no sign of that he had recently lost a close family member.

"Had he…had he cried, after he was told that…" She asked carefully. Knowing that the answer to this question wasn't one she should be interested in.

"No." Her husband answered and she nodded. As it seemed. How cold must one be? Not crying? After her Mum had died she had cried for two days – none stop. And she had been a lot older than the boy now was. What was wrong with him? He didn't make the impression he doesn't care. He had sound different, when he had spoken to his Mum – even when she had been unconscious. If you didn't care, you wouldn't do so. Right?

"The shock. Had been a bad day for him…bad days." Her husband tried to explain. He always tried to explain, although there was nothing to be explained. The boy hadn't wasted a tear for his Mum, nothing more to be said. She had seen those blue eyes and his hair…her son's age. Old memories came up her mind – painful ones. If…No. First of all this is too long ago and second of all, No! She had buried this memory for so long and now he was brining it back to her? No, she won't allow him to.

She saw the lights were still on, when she was on her way to bed. Something inside her was taking control over her actions, because without noticing she was on her way to the pool house. He had looked pretty rough. Maybe he was in pain, needed something to clean the gazes with. She knocked on the door, but got no answer. Should she go in? The boy has a right of privacy. But this was her house, so these were her rules. And what if something had happened to him? What if the shock showed some effects and…she didn't hesitate and opened the door.

"Ryan?" She called.

"Uh…just…ouch…one moment please." He called out of the bathroom. His voice sounded harried. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to check on him.

"Everything's okay?"

"Uh…yes…just…ouch…" He broke up.

"I come in, okay?" She needed to see, if everything was okay. Her maternal instinct didn't allow her anything else.

"Uh…no…please…I…"

"Do you at least wear boxers?" She didn't want to disturb his privacy too much.

"Yes…but…please don't come in." Too late. She stood in the bathroom and there he stood. He must have taken a shower and now his gazes were bleeding awfully. His arms and hands were tainted red and there was a thick thread of blood running down his leg. This broke her heart. He must have been carefully not to bleed on her towels or the floor. He stood in the shower cabinet and tried to stop the bleeding with toilet paper. She could tell by the amount of blood that this won't help. He was completely helpless.

"Oh…sweetie." She called out. The boy looked miserably lost and despaired. She grabbed a towel and carefully pressed it on one of the bleeding arms.

"Uhm…this…you'll never get…this out again." He whispered.

"Then I throw it away and buy a new one. Do you think I let you bleed like a pig? Here take this for the other arm and then sit down." She guided him out. These wounds needed to be treated. Why hadn't someone had a look at these wounds?

"But…now…everything's on…the floor."

"Ryan! Stop with that. You're bleeding awfully and these gazes really look nasty, so stop caring about towels and floors!" She announced him. How did he do that? He was bleeding awfully and he cared about material things? He better cared about himself right now. She could buy new towels and let the floor repair. But he couldn't buy his health, when it was damaged.

"Sorry."

"Okay, wait here, I go and get something for these." She got the first aid kid out of the kitchen and went back to the boy. He sat there, depressed and sad. She looked at his knee. This was the smallest wound, thus she started with it first.

"Okay, this might sting a bit." She said, before she started to disinfect it carefully. She felt bad for doing this. But these wounds weren't clean and the boy didn't need an inflammation. She tried to be as careful as possible.

"This needs to be stitched." She said when she put and band-aid around it.

"No." He whispered.

"This will leave a nasty scar if you don't let them stitch it up."

"Who cares?" Right now she did.

"Stop talking like that and show me your arms." She said. She didn't like the way he was talking. It hurt her. If he was hers, he wouldn't talk like that. But he wasn't. She has had her chance and had wasted it. And this was the result. She stood there and patched up a teenager who was reluctant to see that he had to care for himself in first place – that he was worth to be cared about. She fast cleaned the gazes on his arms. He remained motionless. Was he so used to so much pain that he didn't even bother anymore? Her heart clenched at this thought. He must have made a lot of bad experiences, if he behaved that way.

"Okay, that's it. Are you alright? Any more wounds needing some treatment?" She asked when she was finished.

"No…thanks." He whispered. Couldn't he speak up a little? She had the feeling, as if he felt intimidated by her.

"Are you sure, you don't want to eat something?" Regarding to his – well-trained but thin body, he could need something.

"No…thanks…for everything." With every word his voice became more silent.

"Okay, then have a good night. And don't worry about the sheets." She said and then took the first aid kid and went back to the house. When she went to bed, she could see the light in the pool house was still on. The form was still sitting on the bed. Poor boy.