Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the OC, I just play with them.
The boys were tucked into their own rooms studying, though Kirsten suspected Seth was doing more IMing to Anna and Summer and Ryan was probably dozing over one of his school books. She entered her room, hoping to find Sandy still awake.
"Sleepy?" she asked, climbing into bed with him, even though she hadn't changed into her pajamas.
"Mmmhhmm." He turned onto his side. "The talk with Ryan didn't go too well. He knew what we were leading up to and he headed us off at the pass."
"I know. But maybe he's right. Maybe they will go away."
"I hope so."
"Sandy, we need to talk," Kirsten said, sitting up in bed.
"Isn't that what we're doing?"
She swung her legs over the side and started to pull off her sweater. "Can you ever be serious?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. What do you want to discuss?"
"I decided I needed to see a doctor about the vomiting."
"That's a good idea. You should see your internist. It's been going on way too long."
"I'm not going to see my internist, Sandy. I'm going to see my OB/GYN."
"Why?"
Kirsten turned around and stared at Sandy. Suddenly, as if a light bulb went on over his head, Sandy opened his mouth and then closed it.
"You think?" He asked.
"I took three home pregnancy tests this morning. They were all positive."
"All of them?"
She nodded.
"So you're pregnant?"
She nodded again.
"We're going to have another baby?"
She nodded.
He threw his arms around his wife.
"This is good news, right?" he asked searching her face. "We always discussed having more kids."
"We like kids," she assured, tears falling from her eyes.
"We even take in other people's kids."
"So we're happy about this baby?"
"Thrilled." Sandy put his hand on Kirsten's stomach. "How far along do you think you are?"
"The doctor will have to take a sonogram, but I suspect about two or three months."
"Should I ask how?"
"Oh, Sandy, I thought we had the birds and the bees discussion already."
"Very funny woman." He reached over and tickled her. Kirsten burst out laughing and scooted away from her husband.
"It must be around the time I forgot to fill my prescription in time. I may have skipped a day. Besides, nothing is full proof."
"I'm glad," Sandy said, getting out of bed and standing in front of his wife. "We would never of had the guts to do it on our own. I'm glad the decision was taken out of our hands." Sandy bent down and leaned in to Kirsten's stomach. "Hey, kid, this is your old man talking. I can't wait to meet you."
Kirsten threw her hands around Sandy's neck and together they fell into bed.
Eight-year-old Ryan burst through the front door waving his report card in the air. But Dawn wasn't alone. His father was home early from work, lounging in his tattered easy chair, a beer can in his hand.
"Come 'ere boy," Roger Atwood said. "Let me see that paper you're waving in the air."
Hesitantly, Ryan approached his father.
"Come on boy," he slurred. He reached over the arm of the chair and roughly pulled Ryan towards him. Roger's face blurred and suddenly it was Sandy sitting in the chair.
After rinsing his face, Ryan went down to the family room to watch TV. For the first time in many nights, Kirsten was nowhere to be found, and he was relieved. After their talk earlier that night, he was sure that it was matter of time before they forced him to talk with a therapist. He just wasn't ready to talk about it all. He was afraid to express his innermost fears aloud. If Sandy and Kirsten slept through the night and didn't realize he was still waking up, then he would buy himself some time.
Ryan was showered and dressed and had breakfast cooking before the rest of the Cohens were awake. When he saw it was getting late, he turned on the Coffee maker, knowing that the aroma of coffee would bring everyone downstairs. Seth was the first to arrive.
"What's the occasion?" he asked.
"I was in the mood," said Ryan. He handed a mug to Seth. "About yesterday –"
"What about yesterday?"
"I was an ass. Sorry."
"It's fine. Really."
Ryan searched Seth's face. "You sure?"
"I'm sure. This is a mean cup of coffee," Seth said holding up his mug. "It erases everything."
Ryan offered Seth a rare smile.
"Good morning all," Sandy said, coming in to the kitchen. He grabbed a mug and poured coffee into it. "Aaah. The sweet scent of coffee. You boys waiting for Marissa to pick you up?"
"Marissa can't take us today," said Ryan. "We'll have to go at it the old fashioned way."
"Old fashioned way for what?" Kirsten asked, as she entered the kitchen.
"Marissa can't give Ryan and Seth a ride to school."
Kirsten grabbed a bagel and sliced it in half. She was about to spread cream cheese on it, but thought better of it as a wave of nausea hit. Instead, she put the bagel in the toaster oven.
"Why don't they take the Land Rover? Sandy you can take me to my appointment and then drop me off at work. Dad will drive me home."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." She went to the utility drawer and tossed the spare set of keys to Seth. "No Imax theaters." She gave the boys a meaningful stare, because she still didn't believe their story about how the Land Rover got graffitied in the parking lot of the Imax Theater.
"No Imax," assured Ryan.
"You know, this wouldn't be a problem if you bought a car for Ryan and I to share."
"Nice try, kid," Sandy said patting his son on the back. "You can have a car for your eighteenth birthday and not a day before. We haven't changed our minds."
Ryan swallowed his last bit of eggs. "We'll be late Seth, let's go."
At lunch, Ryan grabbed a comfortable chair in the corner of the student lounge. He closed his eyes and hoped someone would wake him up when the bell rang. He never had a chance, because Seth found him first.
"Sorry to wake you." Seth sat down across from Ryan. "You didn't sleep again last night, did you?" Ryan said nothing. "Figures. That's why you cooked breakfast. Anyway, I'm going to Anna after school. Here are the keys to the Land Rover. Enjoy."
"You sure you don't need it?"
"Anna has a car. She'll drive me home."
"Okay, thanks."
"Go back to sleep. It looks like you need it."
Ryan was dragging his feet by the end of the day. As soon as Seth had left him with the keys, Marissa had found him and she had started up an endless chatter. Normally, Ryan wanted to hear what she had to say. He enjoyed her lively prattle, but he was just too tired. He hadn't let on to Marissa that he averaged about an hour or two of sleep each night. The fewer people who knew about his sleep deprivation, the less nagging he would have to endure.
But eighth period was over. Seth would be at Anna's house. Sandy and Kirsten would be at work. Marissa had to meet her mother after school. So as soon as he returned the Land Rover he would have the afternoon to sleep. It seemed like his little catnaps over his textbooks didn't bring any nightmares with them.
He kissed Marissa on the lips and promised her he would call her before dinner. He climbed into the Land Rover and pulled out of the school parking lot. It was only a twenty-minute drive home in the afternoon. It was an easy straight drive. A boring one. Ryan didn't realize his eyes were closing or that he was drifting out of his lane, until the jeep came to a crashing halt against a guardrail.
Ryan's head snapped back against the leather seat and slammed forward into the steering wheel. Dazed, Ryan picked up his head. Why hadn't the air bag deployed, was the first thought that popped into Ryan's head. Then it was that Sandy and Kirsten would kill him for smashing up the car. He lifted his hand to his forehead and felt blood trickling down.
"You okay, son?" An elderly gentleman with white hair ran up to the char window. "Don't move," said the man as soon as he saw Ryan's head. "It could be serious. I'm going to get my cell phone and call an ambulance."
Before Ryan knew what was happening, he was in the back of an ambulance being rushed to the hospital.
"I'm fine," he tried to insist. "Really."
"That's a nasty cut on your head," the paramedic said. "Besides, the police will want a blood sample to see if there are any drugs or alcohol in your system."
"I don't do drugs. I don't drink," Ryan said, leaning back on the gurney.
"Do you want me to call your parents?"
"Not really. They'll be pissed I smashed up the car." He didn't bother explaining that Sandy and Kirsten weren't his parents. Sometimes he liked to pretend that they had always been his parents. That his last name was Cohen.
"That's what all the kids think. Your parents will be so relieved that you're all right, they'll forget about the car. So if you aren't drunk and not high, which I believe by the way. I know the signs. Then how did you lose control of the car?"
Thankfully, Ryan didn't have time to answer. The ambulance stopped and Ryan was rolled into the emergency room. A nurse took his name and Sandy's phone number. She then left him in a room to wait for the doctor.
When Sandy's secretary buzzed him and told him it was the Emergency Room, his heart stopped. Slowly, he lifted the phone and listened to the young nurse at the other end.
"He's okay?" asked Sandy.
"He's alert. A little scratched up. But the doctor still has to take a look at him."
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
He banged the digits of the telephone and called Kirsten. "Can you meet me there?" he asked after he told her the news.
"I'll ask my father if I can borrow his car. Was Seth in the car?"
"It was only Ryan."
"And Ryan is okay?"
"Alert and scratched up, but the doctor still hasn't examined him."
"I'll meet you in the emergency room," said Kirsten.
Sandy arrived when the doctor was examining Ryan. He was cleaning Ryan's cuts and preparing a suture kit to stitch up the long gash on Ryan's forehead.
"Mr. Cohen, I'm Dr. Papadopolous." He reached out to shake Sandy's hand. "Ryan is going to be fine. He has a slight concussion and a couple of cuts. I'm going to put in a few stitches right now. But I'm more concerned how the accident happened. There were no other cars on the road, according to the one eyewitness account. There are no signs of drugs or alcohol. And the police see no evidence that anything was wrong with the car, though it has yet to be determined."
As the doctor finished his sentence, Kirsten slipped in beside Sandy. She reached out to hold Ryan's hand.
"Ryan," Sandy asked, "How did this happen."
Ryan studied his hands, averting meeting the eyes of any of the adults in the room. But after a pregnant silence, Ryan finally looked up and said, "I fell asleep at the wheel."