*****

"Fuck…" Ryan sat up in a cold sweat. His nightmare had left him with the taste of vomit in his mouth. He was hot. It was so hot that he couldn't breathe.

"Ryan?" Sandy's tired voice startled him from the chair near his bed.

"Sandy? What are you doing here?" Ryan asked. He sat up immediately. He was used to the Cohens not knocking, but usually he'd wake up to Seth, never Sandy's presence.

"I came out here to check on you and you had passed out in the floor. I didn't want to leave you alone because…"

"I'm fine," Ryan said immediately. He wiped the sweat from his face and started to get up to go to the bathroom. When he stood up, his energy left him and he had to sit back down immediately on the bed. Sandy was by his side instantly.

"Come on, kid, you're sick…" Sandy said quietly. "Let me help you." He gently helped Ryan to his feet and steadied him until Ryan's dizziness was better.

"I'll be right back," Ryan said. He hurried to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He took a deep breath and stepped over to the sink.

The night's events overtook his receding memories of the nightmare. He was seventeen. His mother hadn't called. His father was out of jail. The Cohens brought him gifts. He splashed cold water on his face.

He felt like hell. He looked worse. He hated the fact that Sandy felt like he needed a babysitter. He could take care of himself. He didn't need their sympathy. He didn't need them.

So why did he want their approval so badly? Why did he let them take care of him? He'd been taking care of himself for years, why did he let the Cohens treat him like a child?

"Ryan?" Sandy called through the door, knocking gently.

Because he wanted someone to take care of him. He enjoyed the Cohens treating him like he was special, like he was important. He liked the attention. It was a totally new feeling to know that people were concerned about him, that people actually cared whether he lived or died.

"Ryan?" Sandy's voice was more urgent.

He unlocked the door and stepped out.

"Are you okay?" Sandy asked.

Ryan walked out further into the poolhouse and took a long breath. "Yeah. Bad dream and it's really hot in here," Ryan admitted.

"You're still running a fever," Sandy said. "You're probably dehydrated."

"I'm fine."

"You were shivering when we found you so we added a blanket for you…" Sandy continued, watching Ryan as he walked slowly to the bed.

Ryan sat down. He sighed.

"You want to talk about what happened?" Sandy asked slowly.

"What happened?" Ryan repeated.

"To your phone," Sandy stated quietly.

Ryan remembered hurling the phone at the wall and immediately opened his mouth to apologize.

"Don't say you're sorry. Just tell me what happened," Sandy interrupted.

Ryan was quiet. He wasn't sure what Sandy wanted to hear so he didn't say anything.

"Your father?"

Ryan nodded. He kept his eyes lowered. "I told him that I'd already called the police and if he came near me…"

Sandy's face was blank. Ryan stopped talking with a sigh. He didn't know what the man was thinking, how he'd react to Ryan's lie.

"You didn't have to do that, Ryan, but I have to say…I'm glad."

Ryan glanced up at him in surprise.

Sandy sat down beside him on the bed. "We're not your family, Ryan. We can never replace your family or fix their mistakes…all we can do is try and make a home for you here." Sandy paused. "I was worried that you'd try and…that you'd try and reconnect with your father…"

"You're assuming we had a connection in the past," Ryan muttered.

"Ryan, I don't want to pry, I know there's a lot in your past that you don't feel comfortable talking about…" Sandy started.

"Sandy, stop," Ryan sighed. "My father…he's an ass…he never cared about me," He added quietly. "It was just…unexpected hearing from him."

"Especially on your birthday," Sandy added.

"Hearing from him at all was a surprise," Ryan murmured.

"Your father told Kirsten that he wrote you letters," Sandy said quietly.

"He wrote Trey letters. They weren't for me," Ryan replied. He didn't want to talk anymore. He was tired. He was hot. He was sick.

"But…" Sandy started.

"Dawn had me to try and save her marriage," Ryan said slowly. He had never told anyone what he was about to say. "It didn't work. They both resented me for it, Dawn did because it didn't work and Dave because I was another mouth that he couldn't afford to feed."

Sandy seemed stricken and Ryan didn't continue. Judging from Sandy's reaction, Ryan wished he hadn't said it.

"I'm sorry," Sandy said finally.

Ryan shrugged. It didn't matter. Not now. It was in the past. And what good was Sandy's apologies anyway, nothing he said could ever change what had happened to Ryan.

"Ryan. You know that you're better than that, right?"

Better than what? Ryan glanced at Sandy silently. He didn't respond.

"That didn't come out right," Sandy sighed.

"I know what you mean," Ryan said tiredly. Agreeing usually ended most discussions.

"I don't think you do. Ryan, your parents…they didn't appreciate you, they…you don't want me to tell you what I really think of them…" Sandy hesitated. "But I do know you. I know that you're a good kid and you're more important to this family than you'll ever believe." He paused. "I will never stop trying to help you, Ryan. I don't know…"

"It's okay. I don't need your help," Ryan said quietly.

Sandy nodded silently. He sighed.

"Thanks, Sandy. For everything," Ryan whispered.

"Why don't you try and get some sleep?" Sandy asked.

Ryan nodded and stretched out on the bed. He didn't protest as Sandy covered him with the blanket. "I'm okay. I'll…I'll let you know if I need anything."

"You want me to leave you alone now, don't you?" Sandy smiled, trying to lessen the tension.

"I promise that I'm going to sleep," Ryan said. His eyelids were heavy and he knew he was telling the truth.

"Okay, kid. I'll check on you later."

Ryan closed his eyes and waited until he heard the door to the poolhouse close before he relaxed enough to let out his breath.

*****