Apologies for the delay. I couldn't get to the site on Friday for some reason, which left me with some extra time to mull over this chapter and I kept changing my mind and rewriting. I went over it again this morning and tweaked it yet again. I don't know if the extra time was a good thing or a bad thing but here it finally is. Oh, and a reminder about the AU status one should take when reading this because I have no idea of the actual time lines within the show and so, I'm still taking certain events that I've read in fanfics and some that I remember from the episodes I did actually see and twisting them to fit my tale. So I don't know if they fit in with canon or not. It's a crap shoot. lol.

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Chapter Twenty One

After Caleb left, Sandy and Kirsten took the phone off the hook to stop the now steady barrage of phone calls from "concerned" Newpsies, and decided to check on the boys again before grabbing a little sleep themselves. It was still early in the day so they figured they'd grab some shut eye and then get the boys up for dinner. The boys were still sleeping, in roughly the same positions, so they headed off to their room and set the alarm to make sure they got up in a couple of hours so they could try to get Ryan to eat something. He hadn't had much of his hamburger at the hospital and they knew he probably didn't have anything left in his stomach from the day before. He needed to eat but they felt he needed the rest more right now.

However, they didn't end up getting any sleep at all. Once they'd settled into bed, they couldn't seem to shut off all of the thoughts bouncing around in their heads. So they started discussing therapists they could call. Kirsten had seen one after her mother died. They'd moved back to Newport when she had gotten sick, and her decline in health and subsequent passing had been hard on Kirsten. Seth had seen one in recent years. He'd had a hard time adjusting to the move to Newport. They thought he'd grow out of it and eventually settle in but he just never seemed to, never really making friends in school. Seeing him continue to remain so isolated had worried them so they'd had him go to a therapist to see if it would help. That reminder forced them to look, yet again, at their failure to take into account how difficult it would be for Ryan to adjust. If Seth had problems adjusting to Newport, then they can't even imagine the culture shock Ryan must've had. Again, they wondered what the hell they were thinking. Just because Ryan was older when he moved here that it'd be easier for him? Your teenage years can be difficult enough to navigate as it is and Ryan had a whole other set of things to contend with and they'd basically just been leaving him to flounder on his own to make his way through.

Guilt spurs them to get up after only an hour or so and they go to check on the boys. Sandy shakes his head as they peek in the door. Seth is now on his stomach sprawled out across about 70 percent of the bed, arms and legs splayed out in every which direction, using up the whole blanket and Ryan is all the way at the edge, looking like he could fall off at any moment. They go into the room, deciding they should wake Seth and move him to his own room for fear of him inadvertently hitting Ryan in one of his frequent repositionings, if he hadn't already.

Kirsten leans down and brushes Seth's hair out of his eyes as she whispers, "Seth, sweetie..." Seth grumbles something as he flips over, ignoring her. She smiles and tries again, a little louder. "Seth. Come on, honey. You need to move to your room."

Seth's head raises and he looks squint-eyed up at her and then surveys the room."Huh?...My room?" He turns his head to see Ryan and sits up. "Oh. Guess I fell asleep. I was waiting for him to come out of the shower so we could tal...", he stops abruptly as he takes in Ryan's bruises. "Damn", he whispers.

Kirsten reaches out and turns his head back to her. "Come on, sweetie. Let's let him rest a bit more.", she softly says as she urges him to get up and follow her out of the room.

Once they go, Sandy kneels beside the bed on Ryan's side, pulling the blanket back over him. Ryan stirs slightly at the action. He sighs and turns his head away from Sandy, leaving the left side of his face in full view. Sandy's gut clenches every time he sees it. He gets up and just as he's turning to leave Ryan's eyes flutter open and drift around the room. He startles slightly as he turns and registers someone in the room with him. Realizing it's just Sandy, he smiles. "Hey. Is everything ok?", he says as he tries to sit up.

"Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to wake you. You don't have to get up", Sandy says, as he leans down and places a hand on Ryan's shoulder so he lays back down. "Everything is fine. Seth was hogging the bed so we moved him to his own room. Why don't you move over a little. I don't want you to fall off the bed and hurt yourself", he says with a nod toward the middle of the bed.

Ryan chuckles as he says, "I've never fallen off the bed in my life. Do people really do that?"

"Seth", Sandy says with a smile. "He's always flopped around in his sleep. When he was a little boy and slept in our bed with us, I'd often be awakened by his little hand smacking me in the face. Sometimes even a foot", he chuckles. "and when he slept in his own bed we had one side up against the wall and put a rail up on the other side or he'd end up on the floor. Even as he's grown up he's been known to be found there when we'd go to wake him for school", he says with an amused shake of the head. "So humor me", he says as he helps Ryan slide over.

"You think you can go back to sleep or have I ruined that for you?", Sandy says with a sheepish smile.

"Um, I think I'm pretty much awake now...", he replies as he pictures Seth as a little boy, safely tucked between Sandy and Kirsten, moving around freely. He can't imagine ever sleeping in the same bed with his parents. He shared a bed with Trey when he was little and, as safe as he felt with Trey, you never knew when someone might come bursting into the room in some drunken stupor for whatever reason. Either someone angry over some trivial thing and insisting one of them was responsible, or Dawn because her man of the week had knocked her around. Sometimes she'd be sobbing and seeking comfort and other times she faulted them for the asshole's mood. Oddly enough, as much as he hated it, he figures the safest place there was when he was a boy was when he was locked in the closet. Once you were locked in there, Frank pretty much forgot about you. For a while anyway. It was the same with the assholes in Chino. Only the closet was traded for the basement when you'd stepped out of line. It wasn't so bad when he was locked in with Trey. He hated the dark but he could handle it if he knew someone was there with him...Someone alive, that is. He shudders at the thought of being in the basement with Joe's body.

Sandy sees the shudder and watches as a shadow fall across Ryan's face and decides to feel things out. "Want to talk about it?"

Ryan's eyes flick to his. "No", he answers as he tries to push himself into an upright position. This time Sandy helps him up and adjusts a pillow behind him and then takes a seat on the bed. "I was just...it's nothing. Really." He goes to pull the blanket up a little and glances down at himself and realizes he hadn't put a t-shirt on after his shower. He pulls the blanket up further to cover it as a frown forms on his face. Shit. No wonder he wants to talk.

"Ryan", Sandy says softly. "they'll fade", he says of the bruises. "You've been through a lot. It's going to take time to heal. Physically and emotionally. I'm here if you want to talk. It might help."

Ryan shakes his head. "No, I...I'm fine."

Sandy sighs, not really intending to push this right now. He'd intended to make sure Ryan knew he was there to listen if he needed but he hadn't planned on pushing it until he'd had a chance to recover a bit. "You're not fine, kid. Have you taken a good hard look at yourself?"

Ryan eyes narrow and he replies, "Yeah, Sandy, I have. What went down was harsh but I'm ok. Or I will be."

"That's all I'm trying to make sure of, kid", Sandy says as his eyes urge Ryan to open up to him.

Ryan gives a frustrated sigh. "You've seen my social services file. I know you have. So you know this isn't the first time I've had my ass kicked. Severely. By my dad or some other prick my mom brought home. I dealt with it then and I'll deal with it now."

"You're right. I have seen your file and we should have talked about it before. I know you've had it rough, son, but I don't want you to downplay this and just chalk it up to being par for the course. I'm not just talking about your physical injuries. Your dad...", he starts to say before being cut off.

"I'm not your son. My dad...is dead", Ryan says, getting angry now, "I don't have to worry about him anymore. I'm not downplaying anything, Sandy. I know what he did. I know who he was. I don't need you to tell me and I don't need to talk about it. Talking isn't going to change a thing", he says pointedly. He runs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath, causing a pained grimace to cross his face.

Sensing a wall going up, Sandy backs off a little. He doesn't want the kid to completely shut down on him but he's not ready to concede this little battle just yet. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I don't blame you for not wanting to talk about it and I'm not going to push you to right now, but I'm not just going to let it go. Not this time. You don't have to deal with everything on your own anymore. If you can't talk to me or to Kirsten, we want to make sure you have someone there that you can", he says gently as he reaches out to give his hand a squeeze but his heart drops as Ryan pulls away, refusing to make eye contact. He withdraws his hand with a sigh, thinking that just this morning he was holding this boy in his arms. He hopes he hasn't set them back by pushing things too soon.

Ryan sees Sandy's hand pull back out of the corner of his eye and he inwardly grimaces at the sigh of disappointment he hears. He deflates a little. "You think I need a shrink?", he asks softly.

"I think", Sandy says as reaches out again, and tilts Ryan's head up, "you have just gone through a terrible thing. Something anyone would have a hard time coming to terms with, and we just want to make sure the bases are covered. You're too important to us to risk this all hurting you more than it already has. Will you give it a try? That's all I ask."

Ryan holds his gaze a moment then looks away, not giving an answer.

"Look, just think about it, all right? I won't bring it up again until you've had time to regroup. Ok?" He pauses a moment before shifting gears. "You must be getting hungry. Why don't I go see if I can come up with something for you to eat?"

Ryan remains silent but lifts his head and makes eye contact before slowly nodding. He starts to throw the blanket back to get out of bed but Sandy stops him.

"Whoa, kid. You stay put. We don't want you going up and down those stairs too much just yet. I'll bring it up to you, ok? While I'm taking care of that, how about you use this thing here and do those breathing exercises the nurse showed you", he says as he grabs the deep breathing device sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. "Or do you want to wait until you've eaten and gotten a pain pill in you?"

"No, that's ok. I'll do it now", Ryan says as he takes it from Sandy.

"Ok", Sandy pauses a moment before asking, "are we ok, kid?"

Ryan studies the plastic contraption a moment before looking up. "Yeah. We're good", he says with a small smile. He knows Sandy is just trying to help.

Feeling Ryan is being truthful, relief floods through Sandy's body as he nods and exits the room. Maybe he didn't blow it.

Across the hall Seth, too, was now wide awake. Kirsten is sitting beside him on the bed as he contemplates Ryan's state. "How is he even able to walk around? I'd be curled up in a fetal position sucking my thumb", he says as his knee starts bouncing up and down.

"I know, honey", Kirsten says as she rests her hand on his knee, stilling the movement. "He'll heal."

Seth nods and then grabs Captain Oats and studies his plastic friend. "I was waiting to talk to him when I fell asleep but I really have no idea what to say to him", he admits as he looks over at his mother. "Do I ask him about what happened? Do I pretend like everything's normal? What do I do, mom?"

Kirsten sighs, "Oh, honey. Your father and I are struggling with those very questions. I'm afraid we're all just flying blind". She puts an arm around him and goes on, "We're thinking of calling in the pros."

Seth ponders that a moment and then nods acceptingly. "I guess this qualifies for head shrinkage more than the typical trials and tribulations that send Newpsies to The Couch."

"Seth, don't minimize other people's problems", she reprimands. "Running to a therapist might seem second nature to people around here but it doesn't mean they don't have legitimate problems."

Seth holds up his hands in defeat. "Ok. Ok. I guess Marissa Cooper is proof enough of that...and the Wards", he concedes. It can't be easy to find out your husband, and father of your three kids, is not only having an affair but one with another man. Seth can't help but think it's some kind of poetic justice for Luke and his homophobic ass to end up having a gay dad. Call him insensitive but that guy's had some bad karma coming his way for a long time. He has to admit that he does feel kinda bad for him, though. His whole family's fallen apart.

Kirsten's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. "Honey, how did you like the therapist we sent you to? Dr. Westcott?", she asks. "Were you comfortable with him? Did it help you to talk to him?"

"Yeah. He was pretty cool", Seth answers.

"Do you think Ryan would like him?", she inquires hesitantly.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe. If you can get him in the door", Seth says with a shrug.

"Well, I think we're going to need your help there, sweetie. I'm going to call the therapist I went to after your grandmother died and we'll see if Dr. Westcott is available as well. That way he can have his pick of a man or woman. Whoever he'd be more comfortable with but, like you said, it's going to be a matter of getting him through the door. It would help if you could talk to him? Maybe let him know your experience with Dr. Westcott to let him know that talking to someone doesn't make you a mental case.", she says with a hopeful smile.

Seth nods. "I can do that. When are you going to drop this bomb on him? I mean, he hasn't even been home a whole day yet."

"We're playing it by ear but, you're right, maybe we should give him some time to decompress", she says before smiling at him, "by the way, sweetie...it's not just Ryan that's going to go."

"What? I don't need...", Seth starts to protest.

Kirsten pats him on the leg, "Honey, you're going...and so are Sandy and I. We think it would be a good idea for all of us to have someone to talk to about this. If for nothing else than to seek advice in how to help Ryan. To know when to push and when not to. All right?"

Seth opens his mouth and closes it a couple of times, not really wanting to go back but unable to deny that it might be a good idea. He has no idea how to help Ryan deal with having seen his own father kill two men and then be killed right in front of him. Yep. Definitely out of his realm.

Sandy knocks softly and enters. "Hey. Everything ok in here?"

Kirsten stands up and tells him that she's just filled Seth in on their plan to bring in a therapist.

Sandy nods. "Good, because I just went for broke and laid that idea on him", he says with a sigh as he plops down on the bed in the spot Kirsten just vacated.

Kirsten's eyebrows raise, "Oh, honey. Isn't that a bit soon? I know we've been talking about it but he's barely been home...Seth and I were just..."

Sandy holds a hand up to stop her. "I know. I know. I didn't mean to do it just then but there was an opening and I took it. I nearly screwed up royally in doing so but I think I managed to salvage things. I'm supposed to be on my way downstairs to rustle up something for him to eat."

"Did you just say 'rustle'?", Seth shakes his head as he stands up. "You do that, pardner. You go rustle him up some viddles and I'll mosey on over and see if I need to do any more damage control", Seth says as he heads toward Ryan's room.

Kirsten sits beside Sandy. "It's all right, honey. We'll figure this out. We have to", she says as she takes his hand in hers.

"I know. It's just that he was this close to completely shutting down on me. I could have really messed up. If we hadn't already been thinking of calling someone in to help, I'd be thinking it now. He's just in such a vulnerable place right now. I don't want to tip him over the edge."

Kirsten gives his hand a squeeze. "You didn't, Sandy. You said you pulled it out, right?" At his nod, she continues, "we're going to make mistakes. We just have to make sure we realize it when we do. We're so wrapped up in all the ways we've failed him, maybe we're being too impatient in wanting to make it up to him. We'll go talk to Agent Cook in the morning and then we'll see if we can meet with Dr. Westcott and Dr. Hart soon so we can run the situation by them and figure out a plan of action but right now we have a hungry boy to feed."

Kirsten stands up and pulls Sandy with her. He pulls her into a hug and says, "I love you." Kirsten responds in kind and they head downstairs.

Seth had entered the room just as Ryan set the breathing apparatus back on the nightstand. "Hey, dude", he says and flops into the chair by the door.

Ryan says, "Hey" back and then asks if Seth can hand him a shirt from his dresser.

"Sure, dude...here you go", he says as he hands him a t-shirt. He stands beside the bed and watches Ryan struggle to get it on, awkwardly reaching out to help but then drawing his hand back, not know if he should help or not. At Ryan's pained grunt as he lifts his arms over his head, Seth goes ahead and helps him pull it down.

Once finished, Ryan sighs and sits back, "Thanks man", he says with an embarrassed shake of the head.

"Don't they usually wrap someone's ribs when they're broken?", Seth questions.

Ryan shrugs, "they don't like to do that so much any more. The risk of pneumonia and all that. You have to wrap them tight to do any good and when you do that you can't take deep enough breaths to expand your lungs well enough to keep them clear."

Seth frowns. "I don't remember the doc saying anything about that".

"He didn't. This isn't the first time I've had broken ribs", Ryan says matter of fact as he leans his head back and looks up at the ceiling.

"Hmmm. Yeah, so...I don't even know what to say to that", Seth admits.

Ryan turns his head slightly, "You don't have to say anything."

Seth nods. "Ok. Good. Then I'll do that."

An uncomfortable silence emerges and Seth begins to nervously fidget. Filling one cheek with air and then poking it with his finger, dispelling the air with an accompanying noise. At Ryan's glare he gets up and starts wandering the room, clicking his tongue, until he stops beside Ryan's bed and sits down on it, picking up the deep breathing thingy. He unhooks the tube and puts the mouthpiece in his mouth and blows. He frowns when the little floaty thing doesn't rise.

Ryan, whose been watching Seth's every move with increasing annoyance, laughs suddenly. "You don't blow in it, dude. You inhale. It's supposed to help you expand your lungs".

"Oh, yeah. Right", he says as he tries again. He inhales and hoots in triumph as the little plastic piece floats up to the mark the nurse had set.

Ryan shakes his head and then says, "Go wash it off. I don't want your slobber all over it."

"Hey, you don't see me complaining about your slobber"

"You don't slobber when you're sucking air in. You probably blew your spit all over in there", he says with raised eyebrows. Seth rolls his eyes and gets up and goes into the bathroom to rinse it off. He comes back out and then proceeds to bring the mouthpiece to his lips again and plays with it some more, causing Ryan to roll his eyes in exasperation. "Now you're going to have to wash it out again, dude." They continue to banter back and forth about nothing until Sandy and Kirsten enter the room.

"Everything all right in here?", Sandy asks as he sets a tray across Ryan's lap.

Ryan smiles and nods. "Yeah. Except for Seth spitting in my breathing thing".

Sandy raises an eyebrow at Seth.

"I didn't spit in it!", Seth says indignantly. "Besides, even if I did, I rinsed it out", he huffs.

"And then you spit in it again!", Ryan exclaims.

This time Sandy raises both eyebrows in amusement. Leave it to Seth to distract with nonsense.

Kirsten sits down on the bed beside Ryan. "We thought soup and a grilled cheese sandwich might be a safe thing to try. We'll see how that goes down and then if you're still hungry you can eat a little something else with us when we have dinner in a little while. That sound ok, honey?" At Ryan's nod she holds out her hand and urges Ryan to take his pills.

Ryan does as instructed with the pills but then makes no attempt to eat his soup or sandwich. He looks at Kirsten and then Sandy and, when they don't take the hint, he finally says, "Uh, guys? You're not all going to sit here and watch me eat, are you?"

"Oh", Sandy says with a smile. "I guess that would be a little weird, huh? Ok, we'll leave you to eat in peace. Come on, Kirsten."

Kirsten rises and leans forward, rubbing a hand gently up and down Ryan's arm and places a kiss on the top of his head. "We'll be right downstairs if you need anything. Seth? Bring down his tray when he's done?" Seth nods in agreement and she and Sandy leave the room.

Seth settles back in the chair as Ryan takes a few bites of his sandwich and a few spoonfuls of soup. He then stops and eyes Seth for a moment. "Have they talked to you about me seeing a shrink?", he asks straight out.

Seth meets his gaze and nods. "Yep. And not just you, dude. They want me to go, too."

"Really?"

"Yep. It's no big deal. I went to one before and so has mom", Seth says with a shrug.

"You have?", he says questioningly.

Seth nods again. "Oh yeah. It's the Newport way, dude", he says nonchalantly as he flips through a comic he'd picked up off of Ryan's dresser. "They thought I was spending too much time alone and, I don't know, thought I might go all Columbine or something and made me go see someone."

Ryan contemplates this information as he takes another bite of the sandwich. After he swallows he asks, "How long did you go?"

"A couple of months I guess. They made me promise to give it a real chance and then after that I could stop any time I wanted. It kind of became clear that the ones that should have been seeing him were the Neanderthals who thought pissing in my shoes was a worthwhile hobby. But it did feel good to have someone to talk to about it", he throws in as he risks a glance at Ryan.

Ryan's looking down into his soup, brow furrowed. "You went to a guy shrink?"

"Yeah. Mom and dad had picked out a couple. A man and a woman and let me choose. I didn't particularly feel like telling some woman that the reason I wasn't socializing with anyone was because I was a huge geek. So I went with the guy. Besides, I figured that any guy that became a psychiatrist or whatever was probably more toward the geek end of the scale than the popular end, so I didn't think he'd look at me like a loser when I told him why I hated school so much."

Ryan nods. That makes sense. He probably would have gone with the guy, too, had he been in Seth's urine filled shoes. "Why did Kirsten go?", he asks, though not quite feeling right about it. He should be asking her and not talking about her behind her back, but he really wanted to know.

"She had a hard time after grandma died. She went for a few months I think. I didn't even know about it until they asked me to go", Seth answers. He smiles inwardly as Ryan appears to be becoming more open to the idea. Just call him Super Bro.

Ryan falls silent, filing away the information and finishing his meal.

Seth takes his tray downstairs and give his parents the thumbs up. "I think he may do the shrink thing."

"Really?", Sandy and Kirsten say in unison.

"Well, let's not jump the gun but he asked me if you'd talked to me about it and I told him that you asked me to go, too. Then he asked a few questions and I answered. I kinda downplayed the whole thing. I told him you went before, mom. Is that ok?", Seth asks.

She pulls him into a hug, "Honey, if you can get him to go, you can tell him anything you want about me."

Seth perks up at that. "Really? You mean I can tell him about that perm you got that one year? Do we still have pictures of that? That right there nearly sent me into therapy."

Sandy laughs and at Kirsten's glare, says, "I'm sorry, honey. You could never be anything but beautiful but that...that was a bad call." He starts laughing harder at the memory of the look on Seth's face when he came home from school and saw his mother's new look. The curls were so tight she looked like a poodle.

Kirsten smacks him on the arm. "It's not funny, Sandy. That whole incident was very traumatic", she tries to say firmly but dissolves into laughter herself. "I swear that hairdresser had it in for me. The curls were not supposed to be that small. It didn't look anything like the picture I'd shown her." She shakes her head at the memory of wearing hats and bandannas until enough time had passed and she could have it fixed by another hairdresser.

While the Cohens are downstairs allowing themselves to be distracted by laughter in relief that Ryan may be open to seeing a therapist, Ryan is upstairs mulling over what he's learned. Seth and Kirsten only went for a few months and if they'd allowed Seth to choose when he could stop, maybe they'd do the same with him. He knew their hearts were in the right place so maybe he'd go. He owed them that much and if he can just go and convince the shrink in question that he's got everything under control, he can just quit going after a few weeks and everyone will be happy. He lets out a relieved sigh at having made the decision and settles back into bed.

The rest of the night goes by uneventful. Ryan does join the Cohens for dinner. Or, they join him for dinner in his bedroom, still not wanting him to overexert himself by going down the stairs. They keep the conversation light and, when Ryan mentions how tired the meds make him and his eyes start drooping again, they make their exit and all end up turning in early. Kirsten and Sandy wanting to get a good night's sleep and mentally prepare themselves for what Agent Cook is going to tell them about what Ryan went through at the hands of his father. They had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be another long day.