Disclaimer: I do not own The O.C.

Author's Notes: Apologies for the long wait.  On my temporary hiatus my style of writing changed slightly, hopefully for the better.  This is a nice, long chapter to make up for it!

Fear is a funny thing. 

It's like your feet are cold and you're standing in the snow.  You can ignore it, but it's still there.  You can push it to the back of your mind, think happy thoughts, and deny it, but your feet will still ache.  You can admit your feet are cold, but the temporary relief from admittance will only last a short while.  The ache will be back again soon. 

Fear is the same.  You can say you are brave; you can say you are courageous.  You can say that you aren't afraid of anything.  But the only person you fool is yourself.  And even then you still know.  You still know you want to run but can't.  Want to cry but your eyes are frozen.  Want to scream but can't open your mouth. 

It's the way fear works.  It's the way life works.  There's no denying it, no ignoring it.  The pain and ache will always be there.  It's the way of the world.

But sometimes you want to change the world, change the tiny fact that you're human, and have feelings.  But you can't.

It's the way fear works.

And you just have to deal with it.

            Ryan tightened his grip around Marissa's waist.  He felt the fabric of her blouse rough against his palm, and her warmth seem to thaw his icy cold hand; proving her realism to Ryan even though everything else seemed false.  She smiled reassuringly up at him, pushing her bangs behind her ear with slim fingers.  He tried to smile back, but to his disgust it appeared as a grimace.  She laughed under her breath and smoothed down his worry lines with her fingertips.

            "I'm fine, Marissa."

            "Like hell you are."

            Direct.  To the point.  But he was the one supposed to be given reassurances. 

            "Well, if you two are done………" Seth stated brightly, following them through the door.  Anna lightly pushed Marissa out of the way, and smiled at her, then back at Seth. 

            "You know, I like the doorway.  We could just stay here," Marissa joked uncomfortably, amusement lacing her voice in a slightly forced way.  Ryan squeezed her around the waist again in a sort of half hug.

            "Not really that cool, I guess, but it could work." Ryan nodded in agreement, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a sort of half smile.

"No way."  Anna said decidedly.  "I'm not leaving until I get to dance!"   She finished determinedly, grabbing Seth's arm and pulling him down the hall towards the blaring music and smell of alcohol. 

Ryan, leading Marissa, followed him into the brightness. 

Summer sighed.  She took a long gulp out of her drink, trying not to wince at the harsh taste.  Alcohol she could stand, but whatever concoction she was drinking tasted like lighter fluid.  All things considered, it probably was.  Decidedly placing her glass inconspicuously on the table, Summer jolted uncomfortably as she felt some guy's hand around her waist.  Jerking around, she pushed him away with a melting glare.

"Hey Baby, I'm just here to have a good time," The guy said, his eyes already wondering to his next victim. 

"Yeah, whatever." Summer replied automatically, blowing him off and turning away.  She found her own eyes wondering around the room, before they came to rest on a familiar face near the door.

"Coop?"  Summer asked, unbelieving.  She pushed people out of her way until they were only a few feet apart.  "What are you DOING here?"

Marissa smiled at Summer, and the latter realized for the first time that the other girl's arm was linked with someone else's.  Looking up at the boy as he turned around, her eyes widened.

"Chino!?!"

"Uh, hi Summer."  Ryan said quietly, glancing at her just long enough for the corners of his mouth to quirk up temporarily in what might have been called a smile. 

Looking from one to the other, Summer groaned inwardly.  She wasn't as stupid as she looked, she could put two and two together. Especially with something as obvious as this. 

"Alright, Marissa, I don't know what you're thinking, bringing your rebound man to a party like this," Summer paused as she was jostled from behind from a couple of dancers.  "But it's practically suicide.  Luke's here.  He's drunk.  Get the picture?"

Seth was watching Summer with a dazed look on his face, but Anna pulled him off into the crowd of dancers.  

"So much for the 'stay-together-plan'." Ryan muttered. 

Marissa answered Summer with an air of self-assurance.  "First of all, Sum, Ryan isn't my 'rebound man'. We're meant to be together.  And secondly, we know Luke's at this party.  He was going to find out sometime, wasn't he?"

Summer rubbed her temples, watching Marissa and Ryan intently.  "You two are giving me a migraine.  But seriously, if you two plan on living until next year-"

"Marissa?"

The voice came from behind a crowd of people.  Pushing them aside, Luke shoved his way through.  Finally getting through the dancers, he ran his hand through his blonde hair and looked up at the people standing near the door.

"Marissa, I'm sorry, I-"  Luke's slightly slurred speaking stopped. His bloodshot eyes came to rest at the boy standing next to his ex-girlfriend.

"You." Luke whispered, his voice cool and calm with hate. He started advancing towards Ryan menacingly.   "You-You sonnova-"

"Whoa. Wait a second," Ryan interrupted, pulling away from Marissa and stepping in front of her.  The room seemed deathly quiet except for the music pounding in his ears.  The teenagers stopped dancing, and stood around the small group silently. 

Ryan held up his hands, palms forward, in the universal sign of peace.  "We don't have to do this, man."

"Like hell we don't."  Luke barked, turning around and grabbing a cup from some kid behind him and taking a long drink.

"I'm not trying to-"

Luke swung around and with a right hook slammed Ryan in the side of his jaw.  Someone in the crowd of people screamed.  Some boys cheered Luke on.

Ryan ducked as Luke came at him again, but didn't bring up his arms to fight back. 

"What, are you chicken?"  Luke slurred, walking towards him.  "Little boy from Chino afraid of a little fight?"

"I don't want to do this."  Ryan said calmly, hands in front of him.  "I'm not going to fight you."

            Suddenly, Seth and Anna appeared from somewhere to the side.  Seth made a move to go forward, but Anna held him back.  Marissa had her hands over her mouth, calling desperately for them to stop.

"Please, Ryan, Luke, don't do this."

"I'm doing this for you, Marissa.  I want you back!"  Luke shouted desperately.  He barrelled towards Ryan, and before the later could get out of the way, Luke tackled him to the ground. 

"No, please, Luke, stop."  Marissa screamed, her voice breaking.  Seth reached over and grabbed her from going into the fray. 

"We can't do anything."  Seth murmured to her, watching painfully as Luke punched Ryan in the stomach. 

Ryan flipped Luke over him, and climbed quickly to his feet.  "Luke, come one man, you don't want to do this."  His jaw was on fire, and his ankle was barely supporting his weight.

"How the hell do you know what I want to do?!?"  Luke barked, as he tried to punch Ryan across the face.  Ryan ducked, but this only angered the drunk Luke even more.  "I'll make you wish you never stole Marissa away from me."

Ryan backed up as Luke came at him again, but mentally cursed himself as he felt himself pressed against a wall.  He turned back towards Luke, disgust and anger written on his face.

"You drove her away yourself by cheating on her." Ryan spat at look, pushing himself along the wall as Luke swung at him.  "She deserves better then that."

"Come on, Chino, fight like a man!  Stop running like the chicken you are."

"You beating me up isn't going her come back to you."  Ryan argued calmly.  As Luke paused to digest this new comment, Ryan lunged away from the wall.  The crowd behind him cheered and bellowed catcalls and words of encouragement; the former to Ryan, the latter to Luke.

Luke was still facing the wall, his back heaving with shallow, angry breaths.  The light blue shirt stuck against his back with sweat, and the back of his neck glistened in the bright lights.  His blonde hair was mussed, sticking up in every direction in the back.  Slowly, his shoulders began to shake.  The frothing sea of noise around them dimmed to quietness.  For a moment, Ryan thought Luke was sobbing, but quickly the hard noises became distinguishable as a thick, throaty laugh.

Ryan shot his eyes sideways to Marissa. Her eyes were wide with something akin to terror, and her hand was gripping Seth's forearm. She pleaded with him silently to leave, run away.   The sound of Luke's laugh was echoing forebodingly in his ears, the deep bass of the pounding music sounded like his own heartbeat.  His jaw throbbed along with the beat, the pain melting into the intensity of the moment.  He felt a trickle of sweat break through his hairline on the back of his neck, and trail down his back.

Suddenly, the lamp from next to the wall was in Luke's hands, and he had spun around, using his momentum to slam the heavy iron pole into the side of Ryan's head.  The blow had caught him off guard, and Ryan's eyes fluttered shut, a high, feminine voice screaming something that was lost in a swirl of bright and dim colours all mixing together in a dizzying swirl of darkness.

Cold.

Light.

Sound.

Something wet dripping down his cheek and dribbling onto his neck.

Sharp, biting pain.  Everywhere, everywhere he hurt.  Movement was unthinkable.

But he was moving.  Jarring, uneven movements.  Bright light swayed and swung above him.  Noises came and went in his ears, snippets of calling voices, a nearby growl, and a continuous pounding that ground against his sanity like a sledgehammer.

Abruptly, an explosion.  Ryan's eyes snapped open.

"RYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

His head knocked weakly against the floor.  He couldn't see straight, couldn't decipher up from down or left from right.  Something dribbled into his eyes, blurring his vision even more.  Everything he could see melded together, or spit into duplicates. 

The lights………the lights above him were glaring into his eyes, seemingly giving an unearthly glow to the young man crouched over him. 

Luke.  It was Luke. 

He was punching him, kicking him repeatedly.  Across the face, in the gut………

Things were slow.  Slowly coming together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. 

Fight back.

Do not touch him.

Mixed messages jumbled through his brain, but the turmoil in his mind momentarily quietened when he saw them.  Blinking desperately, he could see a brown haired girl screaming and crying.  She was straining to reach out to him, but a lanky boy with dark brown hair held her back, tears running down his own face. 

He knew them………Marissa.  Seth.   Get it together, Ryan.

"Mrhaa………" The words were stiff and unusual on his tongue.  He felt bile rise up his throat, but with effort swallowed it back down.  His head knocked against the floor again, and fireworks exploded behind his eyes.  Well, that explained the explosion he had felt earlier.

Luke saw Ryan's eyes open, and slapped him across the face, hard, while punching him in the stomach.  Ryan's neck napped sideways with the force, and he was brought eye-to-eye with Seth.  He felt a trail of blood drip out of the corner of his mouth, but could do nothing to stop it. 

Help me.  Please, Seth.   But the words wouldn't form on his lips.  He could only stare into his 'brother's' eyes helplessly.  Please Seth.  Please.  The number from Sandy lay in Ryan's pocket, unreachable.  Ryan's thoughts became even more disjointed as his head was smacked against the floor.  He couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't cry out. 

He heard Marissa sobbing.  He could hear Luke's continuous cursing.  He could hear the thumping music coming like a heartbeat with every new wave of pain.  His eyes slowly slid shut, and he could do nothing, absolutely nothing to stop it.

Suddenly, the fighting stopped. The continuous punches and kicks against his legs, arms and torso ceased.  Something soft was stroking his face, and something wet was dripping onto his cheeks.  Fighting to open his eyes, he had just gotten a glimpse of wavy light brown hair and bright blue eyes when something came down hard against his head, and everything went black. 

Sandy sat in his office, the light on and the door closed, staring at the phone.  His face was propped up in his palms, but his view never wavered from the black appliance that lay in front of him.  His large eyebrows were drawn together; making his pale face was a mask of concentration that contrasted against his dark hair.

A careful knock sounded dully on the heavy oak door.  Kirsten entered slowly, softly closing the door behind her.  Taking a few steps towards her husband, she regarded him with worried eyes before coming up behind him.  Rubbing his back in a practiced motion, she leaned down to rest her cheek against his.

"What's wrong, Sandy."

Sandy shook his head, finally breaking his eye contact with the phone. 

"Ahhh, it's nothing.  Nothing you should worry about.  Go on to bed, I'll be there in a minute."  He said deftly, gesturing towards the door.

"No way."  Kirsten twisted around so that she was leaning on the desk and looking him in his eyes.  "Sandy Cohen, tell me what's bothering you right now."  Her lips were set, and her light blue eyes were determined. 

There was a momentary power struggle, but Kirsten was the one who came out victorious.  Sandy was too emotionally exhausted to put up much of a fight. 

"I'm a horrible father."  Sandy burst out finally, both his hands up to exaggerate his words.  His voice was cold and serious, the joking quality strangely absent.  No careless grin hung at the corner of his mouth.

"Of course you're not.  What are you talking about?"  Kirsten asked, her mother's intuition flaring up.  "Where's Seth?"  Her eyes automatically flickered upwards through the roof towards his room.

"Not just Seth………Ryan too."  Sandy murmured.  He closed his eyes.  "They're both my sons.  Maybe not genetically, but damn well in spirit."

Kirsten's eyes widened, and a knot of worry twisted in her stomach.  A quavering hand rested on her husband's shoulder.

"Honey, what's going on?"

Suddenly, Sandy stood up, his face decided.  He fished in the bowl on his desk for his car keys, and, picking the familiar objects up, walked towards the door of his office.

"Enough of this waiting. I'm taking matters into my own hands now."

Kirsten shot up and followed her husband out the door and down the hall.  "Where do you think you're going?"

"I have a little party to crash."  Sandy said, stopping in the entranceway to turn and look at her.

"I'm coming with you."  Kirsten insisted, stopping beside him on the doorstep. 

"No way," Sandy intoned, worry fighting its way into his already unstable voice.  Great, he didn't need one more person to worry about.  "I made a mistake, and now I've gotta make it right."

"This guilt trip involves my sons –yes, plural- and so believe me when I say that there's no way in hell that you're keeping me back."

Sandy turned around from where he had been decidedly opening the door.  His eyes rested on his petite wife standing with her legs spread in a fighter's stance, her hands set resolutely on her hips, and her blonde hair flaring out around her blazing eyes. 

Sandy felt himself grinning, momentarily forgetting his purpose.  "Oh you fireball you.  There's the woman I married." Then he was gone, out the door, and Kirsten was following him.

"-Please, Ryan, wake up-"

Ryan lay on the floor, his eyes closed.  A deep gash in the side of his head loomed dark and untouchable.  Ruby blood drenched the side of his face and head, matting his hair and forming a black pool on the floor.  His face was pale and any skin that wasn't slick with blood was covered with a thin sheen of cold sweat.  His eyelids were darkened, and there were various cuts and bruises marking his face.  His clothing was torn and dark with wet blood.

Marissa leaned over Ryan, stroking his cheek softly with shaking fingers while sobbing for him to wake up.  Tears slid from her face to rest on his forehead, and she wiped them away.  She didn't know what to do………Her ex-boyfriend had just beaten Ryan, and Ryan hadn't been allowed to do anything about it.  He hadn't even been allowed to run away.  From the first, she had wanted to jump in and protect Ryan from Luke.  Luke would never his her………Would he?  She didn't know anymore.  She was so mentally and emotionally unstable that all she could do was call desperately for Ryan to wake up and make things better.  He always made things better.

Seth shoved Luke off of him.  He, unlike Ryan, wouldn't get thrown in Juvie for self-defence.  As soon as Luke threw the first punch, Seth wanted to lunge in.  But a look from Ryan had stalled him, and he had concentrated on holding Marissa back.  But from the moment Luke started to laugh, Seth knew something horrible was going to happen.  He felt it deep down in his gut, nagging him to do something, and quickly.  But he –nerdy, predictably Seth- had just stood there in shook, holding a hysterical Marissa, and trying to comprehend what was going on.  Then Ryan was lying on the ground, eyes closed and not moving, blood streaming down his face.  The next moment Luke was on top of him, punching and kicking the limp body.  Those standing around jeered and laughed, not realizing the danger the boy from Chino was in.  Luke could kill him. 

Then, like slow motion in a movie, Ryan had opened his eyes, and looked directly at Seth.  Then, those blue eyes slowly closed.  Seth's gut wrenched, and he fought against the bile rising in his throat.  He had to do something, help Ryan in return for all the times Ryan had helped him. 

And then, in a split second, something in Seth Cohen snapped.

Seth didn't realize that he'd tackled Luke until his arm was drawn back, ready to punch the immobile young man beneath him.  Luke looked up at him through bleary red eyes, wide in still un-comprehending shock.  Seth punched him with all his strength; pain rushing through his knuckles.  The brunette boy didn't have time to moan in pain as Luke woke up from his temporary drunk stupor.

"-You bitch-" The blonde slurred, pushing Seth off of him.  But Seth wouldn't give up now, seeing out of the corner of his eye as Marissa hurried to Ryan's side.  Ryan wasn't moving.  Seth kicked out with his legs, forcing Luke off of him.  He had the advantage; Luke was already tired out from his fight with Ryan, and the alcohol was taking its toll on his stamina.  Luke pulled back for a punch, but Seth aimed a flailing punch towards his stomach. 

Luke doubled over; his balance lost, and fell sideways.  He threw out a final kick out of desperation, but his aim was off. Instead of coming into contact with Seth's torso, as he had formerly planned, his foot slammed into Ryan's head.  Marissa screamed, which broke through Luke's reverie, but then all was silent and dark as Seth got in one final punch across his face.

Seth shakily got to his feet, only to drop to his knees a few feet away next to Ryan and Marissa.  Marissa was stroking his cheek, crying to herself and rocking back and forth.  Seth, with no idea what to do, pulled her into his arms, and held his friend to him.  She welcomed the friendly comfort, and wrapped her arms around his.  Ryan lay in front of them both, silent and still.

"Please, Seth, help me, I don't know what to do."  She whispered, voice broken and unsteady. 

"It'll be okay, we're leaving alright?" He started.  "We're going to go…Wait, where's Anna?"  Glancing around, he couldn't spot his blonde friend anywhere near by.  The room became shockingly quiet as someone turned the music off. The crowd of people was breaking up, now that the action was over, and milling towards the door.  Apparently the party was over.  The sea of discarded cups and overturned furniture made Seth nauseous; echoes of voices lingering in the bright room making gooseflesh rise in small, cool bumps down his arms and a cold shiver run down his spine. 

Seth's head snapped up as a heavy noise crashed through the nearly empty house.  Sandy and Kirsten stood in the doorway, their faces pale and set, and the door beside them flung open against the wall. 

"Oh my god," Kirsten whispered, appearing next to Seth.  He didn't remember seeing her cross the room.  Sandy was right beside her.  Kirsten knelt beside Ryan's head and stroked his cheek.  "Oh, honey," She was lost for words and tears flooded her kind blue eyes.  Kirsten glanced up at Seth, and her hands flew up to encase his face in her warm, soft hands.

"Are you alright, baby?"  She asked, looking into his eyes.  Her fingers found the dark bruise surrounding his right eye and touched it carefully.  Seth absorbed the unguarded love in her gaze, but pushed her hands away. 

"Ryan's the only one hurt," He found his voice had trouble working. Kirsten seized his palm where he had pushed her hands away, and turned it over, looking at his bloody and bruised knuckles sadly.  She looked up at him slowly, but he looked away without meeting her eyes. 

"Kirsten." She turned to where her husband was leaning over Ryan with an unreadable expression on his face.  "I need you to call 911 right now."  Kirsten nodded, and fumbled in her jacket pocket for the device and flipped it open automatically.

Sandy pressed his fingers against the pulse at Ryan's neck, panic creeping up his own chest at how slow and sluggish it was.  His gaze flickered to the side where Luke lay sprawled and unconscious, but then concentrated on Ryan again.  Marissa was at Ryan's other side, her hand on his cheek. 

Suddenly, Ryan's eyelids started flickering, and his head shook feverishly from one side to the other.  His face came to rest against Marissa's hand, almost seeking out its warmth and comfort.  "I'm here," Marissa whispered, her voice breaking. 

"Ryan?"  Sandy asked, his tone grave, "Can you hear me?"

Ryan's eyes opened slowly, showing only a sliver of colour as he squinted to see. 

"Ryan, this is Sandy. I want you to squeeze Marissa's other hand if you can hear me, okay?  I need you to do this for me Ryan."

Marissa looked down towards where her hand was entwined with his.  Please, she begged, Please Ryan.  With a jolt that reached her heart, Marissa felt Ryan's fingers wrap around hers. There was only the faintest pressure, but when Marissa glanced up at Sandy and nodded, hope was plain on her features. 

"They're coming," Kirsten spoke softly from behind Sandy's shoulder.  Seth knelt next to Marissa, his face pale and his eyes bloodshot.

"No, Ryan! You need to stay with us." Sandy shouted, his voice loosing some of its calm control as Ryan's eyes slid shut.  Marissa swallowed difficultly, the hand on his face shaking slightly as she spread out her fingers. Stay with me, baby. 

Ryan lay in a dark room, his breath coming slowly, pain rushing through his head.  Dawn stood in the doorway, surrounded by a gleam of light from the hall.  He couldn't see the look on her face, but his eight-year-old mind cowered in fright, knowing from this far across the room that the stink of alcohol was on her breath. 

"What were you thinking, Ry?  I didn't know what to do; you put me in a position I didn't want to be in. What would you have done in my place?"

He didn't say anything.  Ryan didn't know, he couldn't know, but he took a guess he wouldn't have shoved himself into the next room to trip over a strangely placed coffee table.  His head ached where he'd slammed it against the edge as he fell.

"I'm sorry, Ry.  I didn't want to do that, but I had to.  I'm sorry, baby."  Her voice was quiet and slick with honey.  Sweet-talking was something Dawn was good at. 

Then she was gone, shutting the door and closing him into darkness.  Now that he was alone, Ryan could let a whimper of pain escape as his head spun.  He knew he hadn't been supposed to leave his room, especially not when his mom was talking to Jose, but he really had needed to use the bathroom. 

The door was flung open again, and this time it was Trey who stood bathed in light. 

"Oh, you little-" Trey's voice wasn't soft with fake and alcohol-induced comfort.  His voice was harsh, panicked and needy.  His speaking was laced with creative and colourful words that were defiantly not new to Ryan. 

"-ing when mom's with the dealer.  She should'a –" 

Oh, so that's why he was so irritated.  Trey needed a hit, and Ryan had walked in just when Dawn and Jose had been about to close a deal.  The time it took for Dawn to scream at Ryan and throw him out of the room, Jose had rethought the deal, and decided it wasn't worth his time.  So, of course, this was all Ryan's fault. 

"Are you even listening to me? You-"

Oh-oh.  In two steps, Trey was next to Ryan, and picking him up by the front of Ryan's ripped T-shirt. 

"-I'll teach you not to-" Break for creative language. "-when mom's closin' a deal-" more creative language, and a heavy push across to the wall.  Ryan slid to the ground, refusing to cry out in pain as his bruised head knocked against the hard plaster.  He dizzily looked up as his brother towered above him.  A punch across the face.  Ryan didn't even think to fight back.  Not against his mother, not against Trey. 

He heard a snort from above him as his head swam and darkness closed in.

"- weakling."

            Ryan's eyes opened.  He was surrounded by stark whiteness that assaulted his pounding head mercilessly. 

            …..What? Had Trey beaten him so badly he'd needed a hospital?  …And who had taken him here in the first place?  They couldn't afford the bills. 

            Mindless panic swept over Ryan, and he tried to sit up.  The world swung around, but he pushed the white blankets away and placed his bare feet on the cold floor resolutely.  Something was attached to his wrist.  Visions of syringes and tracks in pale forearms flashed through his confused mind.  With a cry of disgust, he pulled the unknown attachment from his arm.  Standing up, Ryan's vision was surrounded by a storm of white that threatened to overtake him.  His legs buckled, and he grabbed onto a nearby table for support.  Something slid off and crashed to the floor with a large metallic bang that sent Ryan reeling clutching his head.

            He fell against the wall, and felt around until he found a round, smooth sphere that Ryan assumed was the doorknob.  Twisting and pulling, Ryan stumbled out into the hall.

            There were shoes pounding down the hallway.  Voices were calling, some sounding panicked, some sounded official.  Hands reached out and tried to grab his shoulders.  Ryan pulled away, not understanding. Where was he? What was going on?

            "Hold him down!"

            "Can we get some tranquillizers?"

            "How did he get out? Who was supposed to be in there with him?"

            Ryan pulled away from the clutching hands. He couldn't see, everything was blurring together in an endless cloud of white.

            "No…please…" Ryan begged.  He didn't understand.  "Let me go, I don't…I don't…" His tongue felt thick against the inside of his mouth.  He backed against the wall, crashing into it and having the air forced cruelly from his lungs.  His legs buckled, and waiting hands caught him.  Something cool and metallic pierced his wrist, and his head lulled back against his neck. 

            And then darkness.

…To Be Continued…