Author's note: hi guys Um…I really do have semi-valid excuses as to why this update took so long, but they all involve real life and well….yeah…..that's boring. So I'm sorry. But…it's a long chapter. That's good, right? And there's lots of the angst. That was worth waiting for…right? (Head down. I don't deserve any of you. But please…stay!)

I feel really bad if it's any consolation.

Thanks to everyone who bugged me to update. And no worries. This story will be finished. I would never start a story and not finish it. So don't lose hope.

Crashcmb is my 'running up the stairs, two at a time' Rocky hero. I'm going to create a new Hallmark holiday just for long suffering betas. Oh, and thanks Jooey…just because.

On with the drama…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Best of Intentions

Chapter Twenty-Seven

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Monday

With just a few hours of restless sleep and four previous fun-filled days of hell, Monday morning slams itself head-on into Ryan like a cement mixer into a truckload of squawking chickens.

When he stumbles into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, he's surprised to see Kirsten awake. He assumes she would have slept in after staying up all night with Seth. A quick glance in her direction causes Kirsten to say, "Don't worry Ryan, I got some sleep last night."

He nods, grabs a colorful ceramic mug from a cabinet.

"You, on the other hand," Kirsten continues, "look terrible."

Ryan grimaces, "Thanks."

Kirsten stands up, and walks over to him, hesitates and then tentatively brushes the hair from his forehead, feeling for any indication of a fever.

She ignores the stiffness her touch results in, asks him, "Are you feeling alright Ryan? You honestly don't look well."

"I'm fine," he dismisses her concern, "I just need some coffee."

Sandy breezes his way into the kitchen, sing-songing a chipper, "Good morning!"

Kirsten and Ryan stare at him like he's deranged.

"What?" Sandy holds out his hands in mock confusion. "It's a beautiful morning."

Ryan sighs and sips his coffee. Kirsten returns to her seat.

"You ok kid?"

Kirsten watches Sandy approach Ryan and mimic her own parental temperature check. No stiffness this time on Ryan's part. No forced acceptance of the attention. In a way, it's disappointing that Ryan is still so nervous with her. But it's good that Sandy has developed such a deep bond with the teenager. Seth's relapse yesterday has served as a temporary distraction from Ryan's issues and suddenly Kirsten's reminded that Ryan might not be living with them much longer.

Observing her husband and foster son together, it doesn't seem real, that Ryan may be leaving them. Without bells, without whistles, he's quietly become a part of their family.

One more boy, every morning, grabbing a bagel for breakfast

Four placemats on the dinner table.

Two sons.

"Well, you're not warm," Sandy comments to Ryan, "but you just don't look well."

"I said the same thing," Kirsten agrees over her coffee cup. "I hope you're not getting sick Ryan."

"Why don't you stay home today?" Sandy suggests. "Kirsten and Seth could probably use the company, and maybe it's better if you're close to home…since we're finding out the results of the paternity test this afternoon."

"I think that's a good idea," Kirsten quickly adds. "I'll call school."

"So it's settled," Sandy takes a gulp of his coffee. "Go back to bed kid."

"Wait," Ryan shakes his head, puts down his drink and picks up his backpack, "I'm fine. I want to go to school. I need to get Seth's homework and I have an assignment to turn in. I have to go. I'm already buried in English Lit."

He stops talking and looks back and forth from Kirsten to Sandy, "I want to go to school."

"Well," Sandy observes, "That may be the first time those words have ever been uttered in the Cohen kitchen."

Kirsten scrutinizes Ryan, "Are you sure you feel ok?"

He forces a smile, a lighthearted dismissal of her concerns, "Yeah, I'm just, you know…"

After a brief pause, Sandy jokes, "Well that explains it honey. He's just, you know…"

He reaches over and messes up Ryan's hair, "Come on kid, I'll give you a lift to school."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marissa waits for him at the top of the stairs, hugging her books. The instant she spots Mr. Cohen's black BMW, she excitedly skips down the steps. Ryan is barely out of the car before she plants a kiss on his lips.

She traces his fading black eye. He looks so tired. Summer calls it brooding but to Marissa, he so often just looks sad. But she's afraid to dig. Afraid to find out that this boy, that seems delivered to solve her problems, might have some difficulties of his own.

"Where have you been? You never called on Sunday. Did you get in trouble? Mr. Cohen seemed kinda' mad on the answering machine. Is Seth ok? Is that why you haven't called? He's not worse, is he? I mean, you're at school, so he can't be that bad, right?"

Ryan leans in, returns her kiss, puts a finger on her lips.

"Seth's grouchy but fine."

Marissa steps back, nervously smoothes at her short skirt.

"Sorry, it's just that you never called yesterday and…"

"Yeah," Ryan reaches for her hand, takes her books from her. "I'm really sorry about that. Things have been pretty crazy."

"I know," Marissa nods, "I just…if you would just call, I could help."

Ryan smiles at her, but he knows better. On her best days, Marissa can barely take care of herself. This morning she seems to be in a pretty good mood, thank God. He can hardly think straight as it is, between Seth and Brad and his mom and Carden and the Cohens. There's no room for Julie Cooper and her fucked up parenting. He doesn't have anything left for Marissa today.

Marissa.

He needs to tell her.

Somehow.

When they reach the top of the steps he says, "These weeks with you, have been…"

She saves him from his shyness, answering with a big grin, "Yeah, me too."

"Well, I just want you to know…" he winces, glances around. "That if anything happened…like if for some reason I left…it wouldn't be because of you."

Marissa stops all movement, stares at him.

"Why would you leave?"

Ryan drops his head, "No reason…I'm not…going anywhere right now. It's just, that if I did, it wouldn't have anything to do with you."

Marissa cocks her head, "Ohhkaay. Did something happen, with the Cohens? Oh God, you did get in trouble Saturday, didn't you? Ryan, I'm so sorry, it was all my fault that you overslept."

"No, no, shhh," he kisses her again. "It's not like that. Forget I said anything." He glances at his watch, reaches for her hand. "We should uh, get going."

Marissa nods, smiles hesitantly, nervously brushes a few stray hairs behind her ear.

When they arrive at her first period class, she hesitates before releasing his hand.

"I'll see you at English Lit, right?"

"Yeah," he assures her, returns the books.

She watches Ryan walk away, never taking her eyes off his retreating form until he disappears into the crowded hallway.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten gently nudges Seth awake.

"How are you feeling honey?"

He throws her a disgusted glance that doesn't need vocal backup to deliver its message.

"We have an appointment at Dr. Demsky's in a few hours. I thought you might want to take a shower. Do you feel up to it?"

Seth growls and stands up.

Slowly.

Kirsten tries to stay positive, calls out to him as he drags his body upstairs, "I bought bubblegum flavored Motrin."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carol picks up her cell phone, flips it open, flips it shut.

Stares at it.

Open, shut.

Over and over.

She loves her brother.

Her loyalties lie first with family.

But Ed's revelations last night have left her with a chill she can't seem to lose. A confusion she's still trying to muddle her way through. She's so frustrated with her brother. He's been acting unpredictable this entire trip. And Carol needs predictable, can't function well without it, at least when it comes to human behavior.

She wonders to herself, do the Cohens even know what her brother is planning? Kirsten didn't mention it, at the beach. Surely she would have said something about Ed wanting Ryan to come and live with him and the boys.

Carol can't shake the feeling she has had since the moment she first spoke to Kirsten Cohen on the phone. There's more to Ryan and these people than an amiable living arrangement.

Ed's not seeing the big picture.

Maybe he's choosing not to.

She considers her brother's concerns last night, about Ryan's foster father. Physical abuse had never even entered her mind. Sure, in her opinion, the teenager earned his black eye in a fight, but Carol never suspected that it had been with Mr. Cohen. Ed's wrong about that. She's sure of it.

In Ed's defense, under normal circumstances, maybe his home would make a sensible alternative to Ryan living in foster care. But nothing about the current situation is normal.

Ryan's sixteen, not six, not ten. He's closer to grown than still growing. He's not a victim of the system. He's somehow survived it, without Ed, without Dawn. The kid has found a home on his own, with help from the very people that Ed is proposing removing him from.

She needs to talk to Kirsten. She needs to talk to Ryan. She needs to figure out who is right, Ed or her own gut instincts about the Cohen family.

Carol flips her phone open only to be startled by a loud rap on her hotel room door.

She sets the cell aside, takes a deep breath, tells the visitor, "Come in."

"Hi," Ed stands in the doorway, hesitant to enter. "Are you talking to me?"

"Of course," she answers tiredly. "Where are the boys?"

He brushes back his hair, takes a small step into the room, smiles a little bit. "Getting dressed. They're uh, well, it's wonderful Carol, they're getting along, it's amazing. Josh has been talking to Brad all morning. He even offered to run downstairs and get me a coffee. I know we have a long way to go but, I feel like I might finally be getting my little boy back."

"That's great Ed," Carol nods. She can't even fake enthusiasm, knows she coming off cold.

Ed eases his way in the room, "About last night Sis… I had a little too much to drink. I wanted to tell you about Ryan coming to live with me, really I did. I just maybe should have presented it a little better than I did last night."

Carol turns her head from him, feels her anger and bewilderment from last night building. "What are you sorry about Ed? Keeping me in the dark, taking me for granted, assuming I'm too stupid or trusting to even suspect your ulterior motives? Or do you feel bad about getting drunk and actually being honest with me?"

She hears Ed take a deep breath, moves further into the room.

"Ok, obviously you're still upset."

Carol folds her arms, laughs slightly to herself. "Not upset Ed. Disappointed. Unsettled. Concerned. I'm used to being upset with you Ed. Believe me, last night? What you were saying? We're past upset. Try disturbed. You're justifying uprooting this kid from his home partly because of a dream involving your dead wife. You're accusing Sandy Cohen of being an abuser with absolutely no proof. You have no right to do that Ed. You're not making any sense to me."

"You and your instant trust of the Cohens Carol. So this is back on me? I'm back to being the bad guy?"

"No," Carol shakes her head, "that's what you don't understand Ed. There doesn't have to be a bad guy. Not you, not Sandy Cohen. Not everything is black and white, good guys versus bad guys. Sometimes life is more complicated than that. This…Ryan…is going to be more complicated than that. You think Josh is a challenge? Let's call Kirsten or Sandy right now, find out what Ryan has gone through, if they even know the whole story. We lived next to Russell and Dawn and Trey for a year. You think things got better after we moved? You think the abuse we witnessed, heard, magically disappeared? Have you actually spent any time at all with that kid? He barely speaks Ed. He barely communicates. He doesn't look anyone in the eye. I've seen Ryan on three separate occasions and I've only seen him smile once. This is not an open and shut case of an abandoned child who's living a miserable existence and desperately needs you to save him. Ryan has a home Ed. Don't sit there and tell me you've had an adequate amount of time to determine the quality of it. This is a complicated…Ryan… is a complicated human being Ed. Even if he was actively requesting to live with you, I would have reservations."

Ed remains silent, staring at her.

"Is he Ed?" Carol raises her voice, speaks a little faster. " Is Ryan asking to live with you? Have you two had conversations I'm completely unaware of? Because if you have, now would be a really good time to tell me about them."

Ed flops his arms to his side, holds out his hands. "You said it yourself Carol, he barely says anything. He won't talk to me. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?"

Carol blinks at him, says pointedly, "Yes Ed, I have some insight into that particular behavior."

"Look," Ed says exasperated, "I have no idea how Ryan feels about any of this. That's why I'm wondering if maybe he feels like he can't talk to me, that maybe Sandy Cohen is influencing him, telling him to keep his mouth shut. At first, when all this started, Ryan wanted to get to know me, I know he did. He called me; he was making attempts to reach out. We were talking a little bit, until Cohen found out and put a stop to it."

Carol glares at her brother, "Yeah, I heard that argument last night Ed and I don't buy it. I'm a fairly good judge of character and I'm not seeing the heavy-handed control thing. Did you ever stop to think that maybe the Cohens are only looking out for Ryan? They don't know us. You showed up out of nowhere Ed. Nowhere. And now you're talking about having Ryan come and live with you? God, it's a miracle they've allowed us to see him as much as they have."

Ed purses his lips, his voice gaining in volume. "We're going around in circles Carol. You seem intent on accepting Ryan's place in a family that he's barely a part of and in case I haven't made my intentions perfectly clear, I'm taking this kid home with me, as soon as legally possible."

He folds his arms tightly, "How's that for communicating? Clear enough?"

"Yes, thank you." Carol stands up, "Very clear Ed. Everything's becoming very clear, including my role in all this. I'm going home Ed. I'm leaving California."

"What?" He asks stunned.

"Yes," Carol nods, determined. "How's that for clear Ed? I'm leaving. Bye. I'll stop by your room and tell the boys. Don't worry, I'll make something up that doesn't directly involve what a complete ass their father is being."

"Carol," Ed says her name slowly, deliberately, "Come on, don't be so melodramatic. Ok, I get it. You're upset I wasn't more forthcoming with you. You're right. I owe you an apology. I'm very sorry. From now on, complete disclosure, I promise."

"No," Carol shakes her head. "I don't think so Ed. We're not going to agree on this one and I'm not going to be a part of some rushed decision that may harm a child's well being so, I'll see you at home."

She walks over to her hotel door, holds it open for him.

"This is overdue Ed. I'd like to say that it's only about Ryan, but it's not. Ever since Sara's death, you've been moving further and further away from the guy that I've always known. I hope you follow through with that counseling thing. It's been hard enough losing Sara. I miss my brother. And Josh and Brad need you right now….they need their father."

He stands in the middle of her room, head down.

"Carol, I'm sorry. Please, just stay. We'll talk about Ryan. Maybe you're right about some things. I'll listen ok, I'll sit down and listen to you. I can't do this alone."

He sounds panicky, so different than just a minute ago, his entire demeanor switched instantly from self-righteous jerk to humble. Helpless.

In her head, he's a little boy again, begging for this and that. Sixteen and on his knees, hoping to guilt her car from her, eighteen, challenging her to come to California with him, nineteen and fumbling for the words to explain why he's joined the Air Force, thirty-six, a widower, waiting the entire day, waiting for everyone to leave, before finally sitting down at the kitchen table and breaking down.

"Ed…"

He looks up at her.

The facial expression, it's Ryan, when he lost Brad on the boardwalk. "I'm sorry."

God, what a mess.

She should stick to her guns, walk away, fly back to Illinois.

She's a jellyfish.

Defeated, she leans her head back against the open door.

"If I stay, do you promise to have a rational conversation with me about Ryan?"

"Yes," he nods.

"One in which you promise to listen Ed? Actually listen and talk about something besides what you think you owe this kid?"

"Yes." He answers, barely able to be heard.

"You'll talk about what is best for Ryan, even if it may be staying with the Cohens?"

He hesitates, then, "Of course."

She sighs, closes the door.

He tells her quietly, "Thank you."

"One single outburst, and I'm out of here Ed, I mean it, I've had it."

"I understand."

Ed looks around, composes himself, clears his throat.

"Um, I came to tell you something. Do you, uh, still want to hear it?"

'What the hell?' she asks herself. 'Why not?'

"Carol?" he asks tentatively.

"What is it Ed?"

"The paternity clinic called. They finished the test result early."

Finally, maybe this craziness can start to claw its way to some sort of sanity. Maybe it's the uncertainty that has been fueling Ed's unpredictable behavior. She knows what he's about to say, but still hearing it aloud causes her to catch her breath.

"The test was positive. Ryan's my son."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandy clears his calendar.

Rachel tells him he's being unprofessional, leaving the office early.

He refrains from telling her to go to hell.

Seth is still sick, he wants to surprise Kirsten and help her take their son to the doctor. It doesn't make up for his absence during the majority of the emergency room drama Thursday, but at least it's a step in the right direction.

This afternoon, Ryan finds out the results of the paternity test. Although the outcome may be obvious, Sandy doesn't want Ryan to hear it alone.

So he and Kirsten will take Seth to the doctor and then he'll pick Ryan up from school and they'll go home and deal with the fallout together.

It may be the last thing Ryan allows them to do for him and Sandy has no intention of letting the kid down.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

His phone vibrates at the end of first period. Ryan sneaks a glance at it.

The paternity clinic.

His mouth goes dry, his heartbeat speeds up.

Shit.

He brushes back his hair. Fumbles to a standing position when the bell rings.

Makes his way down the crowded hallway, apologizes when he bumps into a girl so hard he nearly knocks her over.

He reaches his locker and shoves his books in it, absently grabs the binder and text he needs for next period.

He rounds a fairly secluded corner and presses the green send button.

Someone on the other end answers, asks him to hold on a second, they have to grab his folder, tells him, "The purpose of the previous call was just to alert you that the results of your paternity test are completed. Are you sure you'd like to hear the results over the phone, Sir?"

He doesn't think, just mumbles a reactionary, "Yes."

Thirty seconds later he has a new father.

Just like that and Russell Atwood is reduced to the man that sort of, kinda', raised him.

He knew this was coming but it doesn't make the news settle any easier. He desperately needs a cigarette. Shit, he only has five more minutes before second period. He shouldn't have called the clinic. He should have waited for Sandy.

Ryan hits himself on the forehead.

Fuck.

Why can't he ever listen to Sandy until after the fact?

Sandy said to wait for him.

He tries to calm himself down.

No big deal.

He already knew the answer, already came to his own conclusions that Brad's dad is obviously his dad.

He'll just put his head down and go to English Lit. and then, maybe, call the Cohens. Kirsten will let him come home. She didn't want him to go to school in the first place.

Twenty feet into his head down journey, he runs smack dab into Luke Ward and a few friends.

"Hey faggot. What, did Marissa already drop your sorry ass? Sorry but I'm not going to the homecoming dance with you."

Ryan inwardly groans.

His luck is beyond bad. He's the fucking poster child for bad luck.

Poster child for Bad Luke.

Seth would appreciate that one.

Luke's water polo and soccer drones laugh at his lame joke and Ryan cringes.

He steps around the taller boy, "Whatever man, I need to get to class."

"Hey, hold up there Chino," Luke fakes camaraderie. "You cut out of practice so quick on Saturday, I didn't get a chance to give you this."

He holds out a crinkled flyer, smacks Ryan on the chest with it. "Nice eye by the way."

Ryan glares at him and then snatches the flyer out of Luke's hand, turns his back to the group of teenagers, starts to leave.

"Aren't you gonna' read it?" Luke asks loudly, holds out his arms, turns to face Ryan. A few other Harbor students stop to watch the exchange. "They did teach you to read, in that other school you were in, right? It's cool man, if you need some help, one of us can sound out the big words."

He's such a fucker and Ryan would love nothing more than to level his sorry ass right here in the hallway. But he promised the Cohens to cool it with the fists and he's been learning lately that sometimes fighting just makes things a hell of a lot worse. He's so fucking wired that he's capable of breaking Luke's nose and not even this little high school shit with his stupid little movie of the week dialogue deserves a busted face.

"I have mine," announces one of the soccer flunkies. "I'll read my copy. I understand if he's too proud to admit he needs help."

Luke pulls the paper from his friend's hand, "Fuck it, I'll abbreviate. It's the Father-Son game Chino."

Luke struts up to Ryan, leans into his face, "You in? You can borrow Cohen's daddy, seeing as your own…" Luke stops, whispers, "Where is your daddy Chino? Do you even know? Does your momma….even know?"

"Fuck you," Ryan hisses back through clenched teeth.

The warning bell rings and bodies scatter.

"That's what I thought," Luke smirks. "See you at practice."

Ryan stands in the almost empty hallway, hyperventilating with unreleased hostility.

Who the fuck is he kidding, bothering with English Literature, bothering with any of it…with any of this?

He roars down the corridor, past his second period class where Marissa is waiting for him, slamming his textbook and spiral into a garbage can.

"Ryan?" In the distance he hears Marissa calling his name.

He ignores her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth decides his father is full of shit.

The Cohen men are not made of sturdy stock.

They are wimpy and delicate.

He's always suspected as much. The mono has confirmed his suspicions.

But still, he's taken an independent shower, dressed, combed his mop, put deodorant on, brushed his teeth.

It only took an hour.

Funny how times flies when you sit down every three minutes.

His cell phone goes off. Maybe Ryan is bored. Instead, Marissa is in full chipmunk mode, chattering faster than Seth's sick brain can keep up.

"What?" Seth asks.

Marissa reduces her information to, "Ryan, he took off."

"What do you mean, took off?" Seth rubs his stomach.

What in the hell is going on with Ryan now?

"I mean he left Seth, left campus. Luke said something to him, I don't know what, I wasn't close enough to hear and Ryan, he just took off."

"Well maybe he left to avoid a fight. I'm sure he'll be back for third period, lunch at least, it's tuna melt day."

"Seth," Marissa shouts his name, "Focus. Something's really wrong. Before school, he was talking about leaving and now he's gone. He threw his English Lit. books away Seth. Why would Ryan throw his books away if he was coming back?"

"He threw his books away?" Seth asks slowly, starting to grasp the urgency of Marissa's phone call.

"Yes," Marissa huffs impatiently.

Seth looks around his room. It's forty-five minutes away from his doctor's appointment. Crawling out the window is out of the question. He'll have to sneak out the back door.

His mom is so going to kill him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Explain to me again why you just lied to pull me out of…" Summer stops talking, points backwards, "what class was I in?"

"We have to go pick up Seth Cohen," Marissa tells her.

"Ew," Summer balks, pulls Marissa backwards as she tries to backpedal. "Uh…no."

"Sum, please," Marissa begs. "Ryan left and I'm scared he's not coming back. He was all weird this morning, saying that if he ever left, it wasn't my fault, and now he's actually gone."

"Ok, so Chino flew the coop, Coop. Got it. But why do we have to get Seth Cohen?"

"Because Seth thinks he knows where Ryan is going."

Summer stops at her locker, grabs her purse and car keys. "I'm driving. You're acting all nutty."

"Fine," Marissa mutters in frustration, "let's just go."

"Is Cohen meeting us outside?" Summer asks. "If so, can I drive like a block away before he gets in my car?"

"Seth's at home. He's sick."

"Really?" Summer's softens, "Did anyone tell that guy with the glasses that he eats lunch with?"

Marissa pulls her along as they successfully reach Summer's car without being stopped by a hall monitor.

"What's wrong with Cohen?"

"I'm not sure," Marissa answers, puts on her seat belt. "It must have been kinda' bad, he was in the hospital for a couple of days."

Summer adjusts her rearview mirror and pretends not to be concerned. "Whatever. He better not get sick in my car. I just got it detailed."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan uses his thumb to get within a mile of Ed Carden's hotel room.

Fuck.

His anger and frustration and tension are all just simmering at the surface, bubbling like a frenzied emotional beef stew.

He goes into a convenience store and buys a pack of cigarettes.

"I don't fucking have my ID," he snaps at the girl at the counter.

"Are you legal?" she asks, backing up slightly.

"No," he states bluntly, stares at her.

"Whatever," the girl rings him up. "Your attitude sucks. It's your lungs."

As he is exiting the store, his phone vibrates. Seth's number is on the display.

What now?

He ignores the call and isn't surprised when a text message pops up inquiring, 'You left school? Dude…where are you?'

Marissa must have called Seth.

That's just super. Just what he needs.

More people in his face.

More people in his shit.

He just wants to go to sleep and wake up in last Thursday morning. Go to the comic book signing with a healthy Seth, go to the party, drink a few beers, spend some time with Marissa.

He wants his new life back.

He viciously kicks the sand and gravel that surround the side of the road as he navigates his way to the hotel. When he reaches the building, he doesn't go in. Instead he plunks himself down several yards from the entrance, sharing a ledge with a few white and purple pigeon droppings and a huge planter that appears to be moonlighting as an ashtray.

What the fuck is he doing here? Why didn't he just go to the Cohens?

Oh that's right, he's leaving the Cohens. Money and guilt and assholes like Luke that will never stop reminding him that Newport isn't for bastards.

At least not biological ones.

Shit, Luke doesn't even know about Carden yet. He assumes Luke knows that his father is in jail. Can't wait for the reaction to the newest revelation.

It's better this way, Ryan tells himself, if he leaves.

The Cohens will have the pool house reverted back to…a pool house… by next week. Maybe they can collect the remainder of Harbor's tuition. Seth will be fine; Marissa is his friend now, sort of. She'll look out for him.

Maybe.

When she's not drunk or self-destructive.

He doesn't want to leave Newport and he doesn't know how to stay.

He hates his mother all over again. For sleeping with Carden, for never telling him, for getting drunk and treating his life like a goddamn spinning carnival wheel. Maybe I'll be a parent, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll let Ryan have a new life, maybe I'll get drunk and destroy it. It wasn't enough that she came to the Cohens and embarrassed him in front of everyone. Only Dawn could follow that monumental fuck up with, 'Oh by the way, now that you're settled with this amazing family…'

Ryan rubs his temples, smacks the pack of smokes against his palm, and retrieves a cigarette.

Maybe he'll screw them all and all the guilt and all the responsibility and just keep walking.

Away.

To someplace else.

Where no one knows or wants him or doesn't want him or doesn't need him.

Just by himself.

And maybe one day, when Trey is released, Ryan will find him, and show him how to stay out of jail and the two of them can live together and pretend that their childhoods never happened. It could work. It could happen.

He could make it happen.

He spends a little time smoking, thinking, planning, remembering.

On his second cigarette he hears a quiet, "Ryan?"

He squints up in the morning sun. Carol Carden is standing there, staring at him, or more specifically, his cigarette.

"Hi," she says softly.

He looks away, takes another puff of his cigarette.

She holds out a cup of Starbucks. "I was just across the street, paying too much for a cup of coffee. Don't tell Brad, he'll never let me hear the end of it."

Ryan continues smoking, doesn't acknowledge her.

"Sweetheart, why aren't you in school?"

Something about her tone prevents Ryan from shouting in her face, 'None of your fucking business.' He thinks she might actually care about the answer.

"You found out the test results, didn't you?" Carol asks.

He nods slowly, inhales a long drag, takes his own sweet time blowing it out.

She reaches for the back of his arm, "Why don't you come up to the room? Do the Cohens know where you are? I doubt it. We'll give them a call. I'm sure if they found out you weren't at school, they'd be worried about you."

He gently shrugs her hand off but makes it perfectly clear that contact is a not appreciated.

Sits stubbornly.

"How's Seth?" she asks.

The question surprises him, catches him off guard.

He scratches the back of his hair, answers, "Um, a little better, I guess."

"Good," Carol smiles.

More silence and Ryan adds, "Kirsten is taking him to the doctor today."

"She strikes me as a really good mom," Carol comments, sits down uninvited next to him, lowers her head, trying to make eye contact with Ryan. "I enjoyed my visit with her on Saturday."

Ryan has perfected the art of elusive. He manages to avoid any optical interaction.

Carol waits a few painfully awkward minutes, watching the people traffic in and out of the hotel before finally asking softly, "Ryan, why did you come here? Do you want to see Ed?"

He doesn't offer an answer and Carol says, "Come on up to the room Ryan. Let me call the Cohens, make sure they know you're safe. Talk or don't talk, sweetheart. Whatever you want. Stay as long as you want and then I'll drive you home or to school."

Carol finally manages to lock eyes with him, "Do whatever you want Ryan."

He takes advantage of the planter, pushes his cigarette butt deep into the dirt and follows her into the building.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth is sitting behind a prickly bush outside of Marissa's house when Summer's car pulls up. God, what is she doing here? Just great. He stands up, disengaging his pants from a few thorns that are trying to escape their home planet or home plant or…whatever.

He's hot. It must be a million degrees today. Why did he wear a jacket?

"Are you hiding Cohen?" Summer laughs snoottily, her face in that permanent, 'Duh, are you stoooopid!' look she always seems to have at the ready just for him.

"Under the radar, I prefer under the radar," he rambles as he grimaces and climbs into the back seat.

Summer taunts him, "Oh, is your mommy going to be mad that you snuck out of bed?"

"As a matter of fact yes," Seth nods frantically. "Uber pissed, thanks for your concern."

As they drive off, Marissa turns around and asks him, "Are you okay Seth? You look really…white."

"Pasty," Summer throws in.

"Yeah, uh, thus the phrase," he holds up two fingers in quotes, "home sick."

"Here," Summer shoves a plastic bag at him, "no barfing on the upholstery."

"Again, your concern is humbling," Seth mocks her, stuffs the bag under his leg.

"Whatever. Where are we going? Where do you think Chino is?"

"Um," Seth yawns, "I really can't tell you that. I mean I can tell you where to drive, but then you guys have to stay in the car."

Marissa stares at him, "Why can't you tell us anything?"

Seth scratches his hair nervously, "Well, because I don't think Ryan wants anyone to know."

"But I'm not just anybody," Marissa reminds him, "I'm his girlfriend."

"Well," Seth bobs his head back and forth, "then ask him yourself. But I'm not getting my ass kicked for breaking the bond of manly confidentiality."

"Oh please," Summer rolls her eyes, scoffs a laugh.

"Did I say something amusing?" Seth asks innocently, presses a button and lowers his window. It's so hot in the car. How can the girls stand it?

"Uh, delusional maybe," Summer quips, mimics Seth by stiffly moving her shoulders back and forth, repeating, "manly confidentiality."

"Superficial priss," he mutters.

"Comic book reading nimrod," she counters.

"You guys," Marissa whines, "stop it, I'm worried about Ryan."

Seth rests his shoulders on the inside of the car and swallows back an emerging threat. He reaches for the plastic bag and says a silent prayer to whatever god, gentile or Hebrew, that he doesn't humiliate himself, by depositing a piece of himself, in Summer's car.

They drive the rest of the way in silence.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten stands at the end of the banister calling Seth's name. When he doesn't respond, she makes the trip up the stairs.

"Seth?" she looks in his room, peeks in his bathroom, searches the rest of the upstairs.

Walks back down the stairs slowly.

How could she have walked through the living room without noticing him?

"Seth…honey? We have to get going."

When she can't find him anywhere on the bottom level, she switches to fourth gear, high tails it to the pool house. He must be in there.

Ryan's iPod. The boys are always borrowing each other's things.

She doesn't bother to knock, opens the pool house door already starting with, "Seth, let's go…"

An empty room.

She shuts the door, a tidal wave of maternal frantic building.

His shoes, where are his shoes? He's been wearing the same pair lately, always leaving them strew somewhere in the living room.

Kirsten reenters the house and immediately sets about trying to find Seth's beaten up sneakers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandy pulls into the driveway grateful to see Kirsten's Rover still firmly parked. He was worried he may have left the office too late. He walks into the house and announces, "Honey, I'm home."

A frazzled Kirsten greets him with, "Well that's just great because your son's not."

"Not what?" Sandy asks confused.

"Not home Sandy," Kirsten's aggravation is obvious. "Seth left."

"Huh?"

"He's gone," Kirsten holds up her hands in frustration. "Don't ask me why but I've checked everywhere. His sneakers are gone, his wallet, his cell phone, and that damn jacket that you say makes him look like a refugee from an 80's video. Your son, who should be in my car on his way to the doctor's, has left this house."

Your son. Amazing how Seth suddenly becomes motherless whenever he pulls a stupid stunt.

"Oh come on Kirsten," Sandy finds the onslaught of information hard to believe. "He's sick, how far could he get? We hid his skateboard for God's sake. Where would he go?"

Kirsten holds out the phone. "I've tried calling his cell but he's not answering."

They stare at each other.

"I'll call Ryan," Sandy offers wearily, "maybe he knows something."

Kirsten stomps off into the kitchen.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ed's down at the pool with the boys," Carol tells him. "They should be back pretty soon. He promised Brad more beach today."

Ryan nods, pulls up a seat next to the sole table.

"Who do you want me to call, Kirsten or Sandy?" Carol inquires.

Ryan cringes. "Neither one. It's cool."

"You don't think they'll worry?" Carol asks doubtfully.

"Not if they don't know I left school," he answers, sneaks a glance at her.

"Do you lie to them a lot?"

"Things are crazy, with Seth sick."

Carol smiles at him. He's smart, just like Ed. He understands distraction. "That didn't answer my question."

He raises his eyebrows at her, appears bored, completely uninterested in her concerns about his well-being. "No."

"Well that's good," she nods.

She takes a moment to study him. Ryan looks exhausted, worn out, his face is pale, bags under his eyes, his hair a little flatter, greasier then the other times she's seen him. He's jittery, little unconscious movements that seem to go against his usual reserved nature.

She'd hate to have seen him before the cigarette.

He's wearing a plain white v-neck t-shirt with a vibrant blue short-sleeved button up over it. The rich color makes for a strong contrast to the dull affect his body language is giving off.

Carol can make out goose bumps on his arms.

"Are you cold Ryan?"

He shakes his head a little.

Something gets his attention and he reaches into his jeans pocket, pulls out a cell phone.

Looks at her, "Um…"

"Would you like some privacy?" Carol smiles at him. "I'll step in the hall."

"No, I got it," Ryan mumbles, stands up, and heads for the corridor himself, closes the hotel room door behind him.

She reaches for her own cell, thinking she should give Ed a call, let him know Ryan is here, but decides against it. A little more time alone with the teenager and maybe she can get him to talk…about Ed being his father or the Cohens or himself or…something.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Summer and Marissa both stare at Seth.

"Um…" Summer begins hesitantly, "uh, Cohen, are you sure you should be moving?"

"Oh yeah," Seth answers, hold up a finger. "No problem, just give me a minute."

He's holding his side, one foot out of the car, one foot in, practicing deep breathing exercises.

"That's what you said two minutes ago," Summer reminds him. "That bellhop guy is giving me dirty looks."

Summer points at the hotel, "What are we even doing here? Chino ran away to a Holiday Inn Express? He's losing his edge."

"Maybe I should go," Marissa suggests. "Just tell me what room. I'll make sure Ryan knows you didn't tell us anything. I just want to talk to him."

"No, no, no," Seth shakes his head. "He can't know you guys are here."

Summer manages to roll her eyes and shoulders simultaneously, telling Seth, "Well he's not even going to know you're here unless you get out of my car."

Seth loses patience with her nagging and spouts off, "I'm sorry, ok? Excuse me for having a little less energy than normal. I'm doing the best I can here. The mono is an ass-kicker."

"Ew, mono!" Summer recoils, slaps Marissa on the upper arm, "You didn't tell me Cohen had mono."

"I didn't know he did," Marissa shrugs innocently, rubs at her smarting appendage. "Seth, really, maybe you should wait in the car. Call Ryan, tell him to meet us down here."

Seth finally stands up. "No," he shakes his head, "I'm gonna' do this. I've got it covered. I'll be down in five with Ryan."

"Down on the ground," Summer mutters as the two girls watch him unsteadily enter the hotel.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan's not sure what to do. The display is showing the Cohens' home number. Could be Seth, could be Kirsten. He takes a chance it's the latter calling to check up on him, make sure he's ok. It's something she would do. He's surprised when Sandy answers.

"Ryan, hey, that was fast. Are you in-between classes?"

"Um…" Ryan stalls, trying to decide the best course of action. All out lying really isn't his thing but he's in no hurry to tell Sandy he's cut class.

"Well, any rate, thanks for calling back."

Saved from an answer by Sandy's impatience, Ryan waits to hear why he called.

"Look, I know this is going to sound absolutely insane, but can you think of any reason why Seth would have left the house?"

"Uh…" Ryan grimaces. He can think of a few.

He's gonna' kill Seth.

"Anything at all?" Sandy continues. "He's not here. Kirsten and I have looked everywhere, and his shoes, coat are gone. He's definitely broken out of Casa de Cohen. Kirsten is a basket-case. If you know anything Ryan, please, tell me. Yes I'm angry with him right now but I'm more concerned about his health."

"I um, I think…"

"Do you know where he might be?" Sandy asks hopefully.

Ryan brushes a hand through his hair. Inwardly sighs, takes a deep breath.

"I think he might be trying to find me."

"You think he's at Harbor?" Sandy qualifies.

"Uh…" Ryan stammers, "I'm…I'm not at school."

He holds the phone back a little bit, makes a doomed face.

Waits.

Sandy's response is so quiet that Ryan has to press the phone against his ear to hear it.

"Where are you?" Sandy asks.

Ryan rubs his eye. "Um…I'm at the guy's hotel."

"Ed's? Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"You already heard from the clinic, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I assume the test outcome was positive that Ed is your biological father."

Ryan knows he's screwed up but he's in too deep to back out now. He maintains his monosyllabic response.

"Yes."

"I thought I told you to wait for me Ryan. Kirsten and I wanted you with us when you found out the results."

The disappointment in Sandy's voice is worse than any yelling or chastising he could have unleashed.

Ryan hears Sandy sigh, start a sentence and then simply say, "If you hear from Seth, please call me right away."

He hangs up before Ryan can answer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"That… was enlightening," Sandy walks into the kitchen.

"Did you find him?" Kirsten asks hopefully.

"No," Sandy shakes his head. "But not only is Seth MIA, Ryan's not in school."

"Where's Ryan?"

"He's at Ed's." Sandy says casually, loosens his tie. "We're doing a hell of a job today honey. We got one kid running around sick, blowing off a doctor's appointment and one kid truant. By the way, Ryan's already called the clinic. Ed's his father."

Sandy grabs a beer from the fridge, screws off the lid, tosses it on the counter, and starts to exit the kitchen.

"Sandy," Kirsten looks at her husband with a mixture of annoyance and confusion. "Where are you going?"

"Me?" he asks. "I'm done. No one listens to me, talks to me, respects my rules or limitations, seeks out my guidance, my years of finely honed wisdom. I give up. I'm gonna' go watch TV."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan stands in the hotel hallway a little stunned.

Sandy hung up on him.

Crap.

When it comes to Sandy, that's worse than being yelled at. The guy's a talker. It's what he does. So, to have Sandy just hang up on him like that, without saying anything is, well, very disturbing.

Ryan wonders just how much worse things can get when hobbling down the corridor comes Seth.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ah, there you are." Seth comes to a stop next to Ryan, leans against the wall, holds his side. "That was a lot less complicated than I thought it would be."

"Seth," Ryan pronounces his name like a question, "What are you doing here?"

"Funny," Seth bobs his head, "Or actually, not so funny. There's really very little humor in any of this. Anyway, I was just about to ask you the same thing."

Ryan stares at him. Seth looks awful and perhaps just a tad delirious. Definitely unbalanced.

"Your dad called. You should go home."

"No," Seth holds up his index finger, points back and forth between himself and Ryan. "We. Use the correct pronoun Ryan, we…should go home."

Seth snaps his fingers. "Let's go. I can't promise how long I'm gonna' be upright."

Ryan continues to stare at him. "How did you even know where to find me?"

"Oh," Seth fans a hand at him, "That was easy. Mom left the hotel name and phone number on the fridge. I took a chance, which has paid off. Ok. Your press badge has been revoked; question and answer time is over. Let's go. The girls are waiting."

"The girls?" Ryan tilts his head, raises his voice in disbelief. "You told Marissa and Summer?"

"Please," Seth dismisses Ryan's concern, "And break the manly bond of confidentiality? No, I think not. I just needed a ride. They don't know anything. Well, Summer just found out I have the mono and considering the lip-lock action we've seen recently, I'm sure she's a little nervous."

"Go home Seth."

Seth folds his arms. Stares back at Ryan. "Not without you."

"I told you last night Seth, things are complicated."

"Yeah," Seth nods, "You also said you wouldn't do anything until you ran it past me." He stands up as straight as possible, centers in on Ryan "Actually, if we want to go for accuracy, you promised not to do anything."

Ryan drops his head.

How can he get rid of Seth without destroying their friendship?

He feels trapped. Getting the call at school, Marissa's clinginess, Luke in his face, Sandy's disappointment, Seth's pressure. Soon Carden will be back, with the kids, Brad's attention, Josh's hostility, adding another layer of intensity.

Ryan unconsciously starts tapping a fist against the side of his jeans.

Seth's voice is still scratchy, completely hoarse really, making his next words even more pitiful than the last.

"You promised me Ryan."

Ryan raises his head, "I'll be home tonight Seth, we'll talk about it tonight."

"Why did you throw your books away?" Seth asks accusatorily. "You're not coming back."

Ryan sighs, rubs his forehead.

He doesn't say anything, so Seth does.

"What the hell man? Marissa told me you threw your English Lit book away. You've been busting your ass since school started to get caught up in that class. Why else would you throw that stuff away unless you weren't planning on going back to Harbor? I'm sick Ryan, not stupid."

"Seth," Ryan says quietly, "I'm not going to fight with you. You shouldn't even be here."

"Well neither should you," Seth answers angrily.

"That's the whole point Seth," Ryan raises his voice. "Where the hell should I go? Where do I belong? At your house? Your dad is my lawyer, my fucking lawyer. With my mom? She left me, twice. Trey and my dad…" Ryan stops abruptly, looks out in space, laughs sarcastically. "Why not here Seth? Why not? It doesn't matter where I go."

I…don't matter.

Ryan looks down, diverts his eyes away from Seth, puffs of air coming fast and short.

"Well it really sucks that you feel that way," Seth says quietly, "because it has always mattered to me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Summer forms an exaggerated kiss, applies a fresh layer of sparkly lip-gloss.

"God, where are they?" she whines at Marissa. "We are totally going to miss next period and I already had to skip that class last week because my step-monster left her purse in my car and I had to run home to give it to her because she just had her nails done and was too lazy to haul her almost original ass over to school to get it."

"Maybe something is wrong," Marissa answers the ramble, craning her neck to see if there is any sign of either boy.

"MAYBE?" Summer scoffs. "No maybe. This is all wrong Coop. There is nothing right about what is happening. I may die from kissing Seth Cohen…ew! And we're waiting for your boyfriend who ran away from school, to an economy class hotel, and now we're probably going to miss lunch and I totally heard that Holly was going to give Tonya a verbal bitch slap about buying the same dress and now we're going to miss that too."

Summer sticks her head out of her car window, huffs, "Where IS Cohen?"

Marissa sits back. "Something's definitely wrong with Ryan. Seth should be back by now."

Summer fishes eyeliner out of her purse and does a touch-up to an already perfect eye. As she is returning the make-up to her purse, she notices Seth making his way slowly to the car. He really does look bad. She and Marissa should never have taken him out of the Cohens' house, or the front of Marissa's house or…whatever.

Suddenly Summer feels guilty. Damn, she actually cares if Seth Cohen is sick. But like hell she'll let him know. She angrily flings open her car door to get out and yell at him for taking so long and hears a thud followed by a muttered but still very loud, "Oh shit!"

"Summer!" Marissa calls her name, her mouth wide open.

Summer looks around bewildered, leans out of the open door.

Oh crap.

Seth is lying on the ground, curled up, holding the left side of his stomach.

Oops, my bad, sorry 'bout hitting you with my car door.

Summer searches for the right thing to say and settles on, "What the hell Cohen, what were you doing lurking by my door?"

"Trying to apologize for taking so long," Seth grunts out through clenched teeth. "Excuse me for not knowing you are training for a major weight lifting competition."

"Oh suck it up," Summer eases her way out of the car. "Don't be such a baby. It was just a little bitty bump."

"Yeah," Seth closes his eyes, "Jolly Green Giant style."

"Come on Cohen," Summer tries to help him into a sitting position. "I'm sorry, ok?" She huffs out an exaggerated, "Geez."

Marissa gets out of the car to help.

Keeping a steady pace, the girls assist Seth back on his feet.

"My dad is a doctor. Maybe we should stop by his office," Summer suggests. "I mean not even YOU should be this messed up by a car door Cohen."

"I think Summer's right," Marissa adds.

"I'm fine," Seth grunts as he tries to get comfortable in the back seat of the car. "This is nothing compared to my mom's wrath. Let's just go so I can get right to that fun fest."

Summer starts the car and Marissa asks quietly, "Was Ryan there?"

Seth stares at her, grimaces, fidgets in his seat. "Yes. He's not coming with us."

"What happened? Why did he leave school?" Marissa looks desperate for answers.

A sharp pain hits him and Seth leans over panting. Something is seriously wrong. His stomach has gone from an annoying bloating to all out pain. Shit. He just has to keep it together until they reach his house. He can't act like a wussy in front of Summer. He takes a quick, shallow breath and tells Marissa, "Ryan's just dealing with something. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it."

"But why didn't he come with you? Did you tell him I was here?"

Jesus and Moses. Can this woman NOT see that he is dying? The pain lets up a little and Seth collapses against the car seat, his eyes shut tight against the remaining agony. He's sweating and he's freezing. When he opens his eyes again, Marissa is still waiting for an answer, her image shifting. Oh joy, dizzy is making a return appearance.

"Yes," Seth says harsher than he means to. It's not Marissa's fault that both his best friend and his stomach hate him right now. "He knows you are here and he knows I went after him and he still wouldn't come. So I guess Ryan doesn't need either one of us right now."

His abrupt words chase Marissa off. She turns around and silently looks out her window.

Another sharp pain lances through his belly, stronger than all the others and Seth can't suppress an "Oh God."

"Where's your plastic bag Cohen?" Summer quickly asks, punching the gas pedal.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan calls with Sandy in mind but Kirsten answers. He tells her that Seth came to the hotel and assures her that her son is on his way home.

"Why are you at Ed's hotel?" Kirsten asks. "You shouldn't have left school without our permission."

Ryan considers saying nothing at all, but giving Kirsten the silent treatment always makes him feel guilty.

"I'm sorry. I just need to work some things out."

"We could help you Ryan. You shouldn't be doing this alone. Why don't you come home? I'll send Sandy right over."

He tells her no. Carol has offered to drive him back.

He mutters a "sorry about causing Seth to leave", a lightning fast "bye" and hangs up before she can argue with him about returning to their house.

He's so tired of trying to make sense of everything that is happening, everything that he is feeling. Maybe it's not too late to run out and catch Seth, go home to the Cohens, just accept their generosity and pretend that he has a right to be a part of their family.

Carol opens the hotel door.

"I heard some raised voices a little while ago," she says quietly, "I wanted to make sure that you were ok." She laughs nervously, "I wasn't eavesdropping, I couldn't make out any of the conversation."

"Seth was here," Ryan explains. "He uh, left."

"You guys are really good friends, huh?" Carol asks.

Ryan doesn't really offer an answer, makes a slight shift of the head that could be interpreted as a nod.

"I thought you said Kirsten was taking him to the doctor?"

Ryan stares at the floor, scratching an eyebrow, finally looks up at her, "I think he's gonna' be a little late."

Carol waits for more information but Ryan isn't offering any.

"Do you want to come back inside the room?" she asks carefully, still unsure of whether or not Ryan intends on sticking around or bailing. She's guessing that the encounter with his foster brother was a difficult one. He seems even edgier than when he stepped into the hallway. When she met Ryan, that night in Ed's hotel, Carol had thought he was eighteen or nineteen. Now he just looks like what he is, a confused sixteen-year-old.

Instead of repeating the question, Carol takes a chance and simply says, "Come on Ryan." She's mildly shocked when he follows her back into the room.

Nicely stated orders seem to be working, so Carol tells him, "Go ahead and have a seat at the table. Ed has some water in the fridge, I'll grab you a bottle."

She unconsciously finds herself screwing off the top of the drink. It's something she automatically does for Brad.

"Here you go," Carol smiles as she hands it to him, nods when Ryan answers with a polite, "Thank you."

Carol decides to lay her cards on the table. Ryan doesn't strike her as an individual who enjoys playing games or spending time wallowing through indirect bullshit.

"Ryan, I almost called Ed, to tell him that you were here, but I didn't."

Ryan glances curiously at her, plays with the water bottle.

"I wanted some time alone with you, to ask you some questions, get to know you a little better." She stares at him, studies him for a negative reaction as she asks, "Can I ask you a few things?"

He doesn't answer so Carol gently requests, "I need a 'yes' or 'no' Ryan. I don't want to do or say anything to make you feel any worse. I think you've dealt with just about enough shit this week."

Carol's use of a swear word snaps Ryan to attention, makes him uneasy. Woman like this usually don't talk like…that. "Um, ok," he answers tentatively.

"Thanks," she smiles warmly. "I appreciate it. I was, uh, just wondering how you're doing, living with the Cohens. I was really saddened to hear what has transpired with your parents. I may not have been their best friend in Fresno, but we all cared about each other. I'm so sorry your family has had…that they have fallen on such hard times." His head drops and Carol wonders if she has already gone too far. She offers, "I always liked your mother Ryan. Dawn was a sweet girl, so young when we lived next to her. I always saw a little of myself in her."

"Yeah," Ryan quietly scoffs, curls a lip, "she's real sweet. Mother of the year."

Looks away.

His pain is tangible and Carol wishes Ryan was more approachable. Her gut instinct is to put a hand on his shoulder, offer him some sort of physical comfort. But she doesn't know this boy and blood alone isn't enough to justify the violation of the unsaid borders he has so obviously constructed.

He just looks so much like her nephew, and she can never stand seeing Brad sad and unhappy.

"Hey, you know what Ryan? I'm an idiot. Let's rewind, go back to my original question. Are you doing ok at the Cohens? I just, last night….Ed mentioned that maybe…"

Carol stalls.

Ryan locks eyes with her.

"Ryan, has Sandy Cohen ever done anything to harm you?"

His response is instant, drops of oil on a heated pan.

Sizzling, scalding, pronounced.

"No. Never." Doesn't twitch or move his head. Maintains his stare.

"Ed thinks maybe he has."

"Well Sandy hasn't," Ryan says quickly, slows down to add, "I already told him that. He doesn't listen."

Got that right sweetie.

Carol backs off. "Ok, that's good to hear. I told Ed I thought he was wrong about that."

Ryan's body relaxes a little. He reaches for another sip of his water. Carol searches for way to present her next impossibly touchy subject.

"Um, Ed also mentioned last night, that maybe, well, he let it slip that he had invited you to live with him and the boys."

She watches Ryan. He's moved from his water bottle to his wrist cuff, spinning it slightly, thumbing the snaps.

"Ryan, you probably think this is none of my business and maybe it's not, but...I just…I care a lot about my brother and his sons…and now that you are one of them…" Carol moves a little closer, reaches for the remaining chair, sits down on the other side of Ryan, finishes her thought, " I just want to make sure Ryan, that with all this happening, all of this...upheaval, that Ed understands and hears what you want Ryan. You're right, he doesn't always listen. Sometimes he charges ahead and then looks back. If you're not careful, he's going to end up making decisions for you, decisions that he himself may not have really thought through completely."

Carol smiles at him. "That's where I step in. I'm the spike strip to Ed's speeding car. I stop and make him listen. Do you need my help Ryan, making Ed listen? "

Without thinking she playfully pokes his arm, "I'm good at it, had years of experience."

Ryan gives the wrist cuff one more twist, looks up at her, doleful blue eyes.

At this moment she sees so much of Dawn in this boy.

Standing at her and Ed's apartment door, crying, holding Trey on her hip, denying that Russell hit her but wiping tears off her face, asking if she can come in, for just a minute, no big deal. Can she just sit down for a little while? She's not sure where else to go, what else to do.

This child may now be living a life of more promise than his mother but he's inherited her lonely soul and it's visible through his eyes. She never knew how to help Dawn. Irony can be an astounding thing, years later, another Atwood, sitting with her. Does he know what he wants, what to do, where to go?

"Ryan, you're dealing with something no child should ever have to. Your family has fallen apart. That's a horrible thing. But if there's some saving grace in all that you have gone through, it's that people want to help you. That's good, right? That you have people who want to care about you? My brother is feeling so guilty right now about what happened, about the fact that he never knew you were born. It goes against everything he stands for Ryan. Ed is loyal and responsible. He takes care of his family. Knowing that he has a son whose life he's never been a part of is eating away at him. And I'm worried that he's looking for a fast solution to make it all better. To instantly fix things. Ryan, I know my brother. I've seen him take charge when he needs to. People listen to him. People do what he wants. But what Ed wants isn't as important as what you want Ryan. I want to make sure that my brother doesn't force his will on you. And he can…force his will. Once he makes up his mind about something Ryan, Ed can be pretty damn formidable."

Oh that's just great Carol, formidable. Does he know what that word even means? Carol mentally slaps herself on the head. She's not being as clear as she wants to be. Ryan is just staring at the tabletop. God knows what's going through his head. She probably sounded like a rambling idiot. And who the hell is she, to be having this conversation with him. The poor kid is probably more confused now than when he walked through the hotel room door. Why did he leave school and come here? What is he looking for, what does he want? How much has Ed said to him, suggested to him?

She switches styles. This kid knows how to hide behind other's words. Knows how to get lost in their flow. She's beginning to think he counts on it. Relies on people giving up, moving on, not waiting for answers.

His answers, she needs to hear what he's thinking.

She needs to be even more direct.

"Ryan, do you want to live with Ed?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The tabletop is that bumpy glass and Ryan stares at the distorted image of the carpet through its surface.

Blurry.

Everything is blurry. No real corners, no real shapes, no real definitions, just blurry and jumbled.

In a way, he wants to answer her, tell her the whole truth.

He'd like to be in Fresno, with Trey and the man he thought was his dad and his mom and all their bullshit. Because no matter what, they were his family and he loved them and even today, given a choice, he'd rather be a part of them than what he's become.

Homeless, fatherless, motherless, brotherless.

But things are blurry.

He has men that want to be his father; a woman that he could pretend was his mother, two little boys to replace the brother that is locked away from him.

He has Seth.

He sort of thought that Sandy, and especially Kirsten, would smile and wish him luck and be thankful that he no longer has to live with them. But they don't want to seem to let him go any more than he wants to go.

Sometimes, when things got bad in Fresno, and his mom and dad were fighting, he would wish for a different family. Wish that somehow, his current family was a mistake, that he'd been kidnapped from a normal family, a normal mom and dad.

Funny, all those years ago, he was half right. Russell really wasn't his dad. There really had been a normal family somewhere that he could have, maybe should have, been a part of.

And now that Ed's here and wants him…all Ryan can think about is staying with the Cohens.

His childhood wish from the past may ruin his hopes for the future. And these little boys, his real brothers, may dissolve his relationship with Seth, his new brother.

Ryan knows that Carol is waiting for an answer, and she's been nice to him and he should at least acknowledge her question with some type of response. But instead he continues to stare through the glass.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth has given up on trying to stay in a secure and upright position, choosing to lie on his right side, clutching his left side.

Trying to breathe.

When Summer first smacked him with the car door, the pains were sharp, running with bullet speed from up his side to his left shoulder. Now they are excruciating, covering his entire stomach. He can't get a full breath it hurts so badly. Marissa keeps glancing back at him like he's a jack-in-the-box, about to spring out of his skin when just the right tune is played.

Skin.

He's sweaty and cold. How is that possible?

"Summer," he hears Marissa say. "Something's wrong with Seth. I think you're right, we should take him to see your dad."

"No," Seth grunts out, considers sitting up to defend his position but gives up the instant a piercing pain grips his abdomen. He manages through puffs of air, "Just take me home, my mom already has a doctor's appointment."

The girls exchange skeptical glances.

"Uh, Cohen…seriously…you're freaking us out. I think this may be a little beyond a lollipop and sticker visit."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Oh God.

Seth. Just. Wants. To. Die.

Why here? Why in Summer's car? Why now?

He hates his body. Stupid mono. Stupid weak Cohen physique.

What a magnificent not-stud he is.

After this, he'll be lucky if Summer even acknowledges that they go to the same high school.

He blinks several times before realizing that Marissa is leaning over him, her long body stretching from the front seat of the car into the back.

"Seth? Seth."

She waves her hand in front of his face. "Are you ok? I was calling your name. You wouldn't answer me."

"I think I'm gonna' be sick," he mumbles at her. Because why the hell not? I mean as long as he's embarrassing himself in Summer Robert's car by having a total health crisis, why not vomit into Marissa Cooper's, the head of the Harbor High Social Committee, shiny hair. Why not? Might as well make it a complete obliteration of his social life.

"Here Seth." Marissa is scrunched up in the foot space next to him, holding the plastic bag, tentatively reaching for his head to help him aim for the bag. When did she crawl all the way into the back seat?

Things start to seem not so right, like time is skipping ahead of him. Suddenly he's vomiting into the bag, can hear Summer say, "Oh gross," and Marissa chastise, "Summer, stop it. He can't help it. It's ok Seth."

Well, he supposes, if someone knows how to vomit with dignity, is sympathetic to it's effects on the human body, it's probably Marissa.

He doesn't bother to thank her because he's lost the ability to form words. Instead he curls up into a smaller ball. The pain is so bad it's affecting all his other senses.

It's all he can think about.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ryan?"

She says his name again but doesn't repeat the question.

He puts his hands to his face, rubs his eyes, temples.

What a shitty day.

He should have stayed at school. Maybe he'll go back, punch Luke. At least it'll make him feel better.

"Do you mind if I go out on the balcony?" He asks.

"To have a cigarette?" Carol clarifies.

"Yeah," Ryan nods, avoids eye contact.

"I wish you wouldn't," Carol answers, explains, "Brad and Josh really are supposed to be here any minute and I just don't want them seeing you…"

"It's cool," Ryan dismisses her excuse with a wave of his hand. "I should be getting out of here anyway."

He stands up and Carol quickly joins him, asking, "Why? I mean you just got here, you haven't even told me why you came. You wanted to see Ed, right? I'll call him right now. Ryan, please, stay. It's not a big deal if you smoke. I mean, of course I don't think at your age, or any age for that matter, you should be smoking but…forget I said that. Go ahead and…"

He cuts her off, finding her rambling panic a little bit amusing, "No, I'm fine. I should just get back to school. Sandy and Kirsten are already pissed off at me for leaving."

He runs his fingers through his hair, walks to the door, "Thanks for the water."

"Ryan," Carol tries again to slow him down, "can I at least drive you?"

"Um," Ryan hesitates, tries to remember if he has enough money in his wallet for a cab. He's really not looking forward to hitching his way back to Harbor.

"Let me grab my purse," Carol seizes the hesitation. "I just need one second."

She reaches into a small sliding-door closet and Ryan pats the side of his leg with nervous energy he can't kick.

"Hey Carol, got two wet kids for sale," Ed announces as he swings the hotel room door open, Brad slung over his shoulder. He immediately spots Ryan, puts a kicking, giggling Brad down, extends his hand slowly, saying a curious, "Hi Ryan."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Summer, how much longer?" Marissa asks rapidly.

"We're like two minutes away," Summer answers. "Should I detour to my dad's office or go to the Cohens?"

"The Cohens," Marissa tells her, even though dealing with Mr. Roberts would be a whole lot easier than trying to explain to Seth's mom where they have been.

She's still worried about Ryan but Seth has her full attention. He's actually groaning, like as in, pain…groaning. Her cousin had mono a few years ago.

Marissa doesn't remember any groaning.

"It's ok Seth, we're almost there." She taps the top of his shoulder awkwardly.

As they pull into the gated community the Cohens live in, Marissa asks Seth, "We're at your house. Do you want me to go get your mom, or do you want to go in yourself?"

Seth processes her question. Certainly he can manage walking into his own house. Because….having his mom get him out of Summer Robert's car…is so not going to happen.

"Help me," he tells Marissa, hoping his request came off more as a command, but knowing damn well it sounded like a pathetic plea. He pulls at her arm for leverage.

The act of sitting up sends a new round of stinging pain and he leans against the back of the seat gasping for a full, pain free breath.

Seth can hear Marissa still trying to communicate with him, but he's done talking for now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey, how are you?" Ed asks. "I wasn't expecting to see you. I thought you had school today?"

"Um," Ryan bites him bottom lip, looks at the boys, tilts his head, bugs his eyes a bit, hoping Ed will catch on that he really doesn't want to talk, in front of these kids, about the fact that he isn't in school.

"Okay," Ed seems to interpret the clue. "Right. So, how about if the boys here grab showers and we all go out to lunch together. Are you hungry?"

"Ed, Ryan spoke to the clinic this morning," Carol answers for the teenager. "I don't think he's really all that hungry right now."

Ed nods nervously. "Right. Absolutely. Um, Carol…can you stay with the boys? Ryan and I are going for a…walk." He motions towards Ryan. "Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah," Ryan nods an agreement.

"You're coming back, right Ryan?" Brad asks anxiously, curves around his father's body, goes straight for Ryan's hand.

Grabs it.

Looks up at the taller boy.

"I have something to show you. Remember? I told you about it yesterday."

"We'll be right back Brad, right Ryan?" Ed asks.

It strikes Ryan as a little funny that Ed even bothered to ask. He's cornered. This guy damn well knows it.

"Yeah," Ryan shakes his head, assures Brad, "Just give us a sec."

It's enough for the boy. He breaks his contact with Ryan, shouts out to Josh, "Got first dibs on the shower."

"Whatever," Josh mumbles, starts to walk past Ryan but then hesitates, holding up his hand and muttering a quiet, "hey," to Ryan before passing.

Ryan raises his eyebrows, pulls his head back a bit, amazing that Josh bothered to acknowledge his presence.

"Let's go," Ed pulls him out of his thoughts, holds the door open for him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten walks into the living room, snaps the television off and informs her husband, "We should try calling Seth again. I am very angry with him right now Sandy and I'm worried and I would appreciate it if you would take the situation a little more seriously."

Sandy stands up, sighs. "What do you want me to do honey? He's sick, he'll come home, we'll yell at him, you'll reschedule with Dr. Demsky. Quite frankly I'm more concerned about Ryan."

Kirsten softens. Sandy's right. Seth will come home eventually.

Ryan may not.

Not permanently.

She starts to respond but the doorbell interrupts her.

Sandy heads for the foyer. "Did you lock the front door? That's probably Seth now. I cannot wait to hear the lame excuse he comes up with. I'm telling you Kirsten," Sandy reaches for the door handle, loudly tells his wife, "He's lucky he's so sick or I would kick his sorry a…"

Abruptly stops talking when Marissa is the one standing at the door and not his son.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There's a tiny lobby, really just a few tables and chairs connected to a couple of vending machines and an ice maker, at the end of the hallway and Ed opts to stay on his hotel room floor rather than go down to the main lobby. He and Ryan settle into chairs before he asks the young man, "So, you spoke to the clinic, huh? How do you feel about that?"

Ryan glances at the ice machine, wishing that words came as easily to him as the freshly made ice, dropping out in mass when a button is pressed.

"I can't believe you came here," Ed smiles. "This is so great. I'm really sorry that you heard the news without me though. I kinda' wanted us to be together."

"Wait for me," Sandy had told him. "I want to be with you Ryan."

"I'm not surprised though. I knew Ryan, the minute I saw you, that you were my son. But now that it's official, we can start making things better. We'll figure out a way Ryan, to deal with this."

"We could help you Ryan. You shouldn't be doing this alone. Why don't you come home? I'll send Sandy right over."

"I want you to know that I couldn't be happier." Ed hesitates, "Well, I would have been happier if Dawn had told me…when you were born, but I can't change that. It doesn't matter now. We're just going to go forward."

Ed leans in close. "You in there Ryan? I wish you would talk to me."

The teen makes eye contact. No joy in Mudville. Ed realizes that maybe all out enthusiasm isn't the most appropriate protocol.

"Hey," he reaches out and grips Ryan's arm, says soberly, "it's going to be alright. We're gonna' make it ok. I wasn't there for you a few months ago when you needed someone, a father, but I'm here now and I want desperately for you to be a part of my life. And the boys' lives. Give us a chance Ryan, to be the family you've never had. I can do this. We…can do this. You, me, Josh and Brad. We can do this Ryan, we can be a family."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Marissa," Sandy greets her with a casual grin, "It's the middle of a school day yet here you stand in my door way. Why does this not surprise me?"

She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, cringes a little, and turns it into an awkward smile.

"Um, hi Mr. Cohen."

She gives him a small wave with a few of her fingers, shrugs helplessly.

"Tell me something Marissa. Kirsten and I are missing a son and Ryan evidently isn't in school. Can you help me with either one of those two problems?"

"Um," Marissa points her thumb in the direction of Summer's car, "Uh, Seth was with Summer and me. He's in her car. I don't think he feels very well."

"Ok," Sandy retains his forced smile, walks out of his house into the midday sun. "Thanks for bringing him home."

Marissa starts to follow Sandy to the vehicle but he stops her, suggesting, "Maybe you should wait in the house Marissa. Kirsten's in there. Grab yourself a cold drink before you head back to school."

Marissa immediately reverses her direction, frantically fanning her hands at Summer to join her.

Summer gets out of her car, gives a slight wave to Sandy and a very timid, "Hi."

"Summer, could you leave us alone a second? I'd like a word with Seth."

He sounds a little bit scary-pissed, reminds Summer of her dad when the American Express Gold Card bill comes in and they have company. A very controlled, 'I'm not going to lose my temper in front of other people' kind of scary-pissed.

Summer hightails it to Marissa's side, interlocks their arms, whispers, "Keep moving Coop. We don't want to be nowhere near here."

Sandy glances behind his shoulder, waits for the girls to disappear into the house and opens Seth's passenger door.

"What in the hell were you thinking Seth! You're mother is frantic with worry, you were supposed to be at the doctor's two hours ago, and instead you are cruising around with kids who should be in school? And don't even go into what I'm sure will be a riveting excuse as to why you had to sneak out of the house to track down Ryan because I'm way ahead of you buddy and I'm not buying it."

"Dad," Seth keeps his eyes closed, squirms with uncomfortable jabs of pain, and says quietly "I'm sorry."

"You know what Seth, sometimes sorry just doesn't cut it. Just for once, would it kill you to think of the consequences of your actions before you…"

Sandy suddenly halts the barrage. Something's wrong with Seth. His kid appears to be in a world of pain, as white and pasty as a clump of Elmer's School Glue with his arms wrapped tight around his mid-section.

Why the hell didn't he notice right away?

"Seth, son," Sandy changes his tone to soothing, "What's going on?" He places his hand on Seth's forehead. He's ice cold. Sweating, panting.

Jesus.

"Seth, does your stomach hurt? Worse? Sharp?"

Seth nods, "I'm sorry," looks up at his dad, glassy brown eyes searching for relief. He draws a quick breath, "I can't breathe."

Sandy whips out his cell phone, squeezes his son's shoulder, "Take it easy Seth, I'll be right back," dials 911, talks to the dispatcher as his rushes towards his front door to get Kirsten.

To be continued……..