*****

Ryan closed the door to the poolhouse behind him and made sure that all the blinds were closed. He had to force himself to keep the cake he had just eaten in his stomach. His head was hurting worse after his return trip through the rain. Sandy and Kirsten both had tried to follow him back to the poolhouse, Kirsten to check his temperature and Sandy to check and make sure he wasn't going to run off. He had convinced them that he was going straight to bed.

His father. Out of jail. He couldn't get it out of his mind. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He had a life here, a quasi-family, one that didn't belong to him, but was letting him be a part of it. Should he have loyalty to his father? Should he finally step up and help his dad get the hell out of town? Would that make him worthy in his father's eyes? Was it even worth it? Did he still need his dad's approval after all these years?

He sat down on the bed and let his nausea settle. He was getting wound up again and if Kirsten returned and saw that he was upset, she'd probably make him go inside so she could stare at him. He wasn't sure why, but she seemed to always be staring at him like he was about to snap and tear her house apart. He knew that she cared about him but her constant surveillance of him made him nervous. He didn't want her concern. Not after all they'd just done for him.

They'd brought him things for his birthday. Birthday presents. Gifts for him. He hadn't known what to say, how to react, he'd been slightly prepared after Christmas, but this…he hadn't even told them about his birthday. He hadn't said anything. When he was small and his teachers would mention his birthday at school, he'd learned not to say anything to Dawn or Dave. Birthdays enraged his father. He knew better than to ask why. He never asked why.

But the Cohens, somehow found out and celebrated it. He wasn't sure how he felt. His own family had never celebrated his birthday but these strangers had bought him a cake and gifts. And they didn't even know him.

The phone rang and he jumped. He was jumpy. He wasn't being successful in calming his own nerves. He didn't know what he would say to his father. He didn't know what he would say to his mother. He knew he couldn't listen to the phone ring anymore. His head was pounding too painfully for him to listen. He didn't remember turning the ringer back on, but he didn't doubt that he'd done it.

"Yeah?" Ryan answered.

"I need to see you."

"Excuse me?" Ryan was stunned by his father's words.

"I need to see you."

"No," Ryan replied.

"Doesn't a man have the right to see his son?"

Ryan wasn't sure he was in control of his voice. "You're not a man."

"What did you just say to me?"

"I know you escaped from jail. You must need something if you're calling me," Ryan said automatically. He was shaking and the only reason he felt brave enough to talk to his father like this was because it was over the phone. His father couldn't hurt him. Not anymore. Ryan was stronger now. He was better now. He wasn't afraid. He had nothing to fear. Not from Dave. God, he was a shitty liar. Even to himself.

"You're my son. If I want to see you then I'll damned well see you…"

"I've already called the cops," Ryan lied immediately. He recognized the tone in his father's voice.

"What?"

"You heard me. I called the cops. They know you're out. They know you're looking for me. If you come anywhere near me…" Ryan was rambling now, like Seth. He wondered what Seth would say about all the talking he was doing right now.

"You little bastard…" Dave hissed. "You fucking little prick…"

Ryan hurled the phone against the wall and it shattered into pieces. He slid off the bed and leaned against the edge of the mattress. He was breathing hard and the pain in his head wouldn't let him process what he'd just done. He pulled his knees against his chest and leaned his face against his kneecaps. He didn't shake as much when he pulled himself tight like this. It helped. At least he hoped it would. He had to get control before one of the Cohens found him.

He'd stood up to his father. For the first time. Probably the last. God, Trey was going to kill him. Trey was going to be so pissed off. And if his father ever found him, he'd be dead. He didn't doubt it at all. David used to threaten him all the time, telling him how worthless and useless he was and that he'd be better off dead. He used to believe it. After Dave was gone, he still believed it. What kind of father would tell his son that if it wasn't true?

He closed his eyes. No matter how hard the Cohens had tried to make him have a good birthday, he was still an Atwood. He'd always be his father's son. His mother's baby. He'd always be an Atwood.

*****