Author's Note: I apologize ahead of time because this chapter feels long. Also, the italic section is a dream- in case you can't tell. Unending thanks to those who have reviewed- you turn rainbows into Skittles! Please keep reading and reviewing :o)
Oh yeah. I don't own The O.C.

Kirsten stood at the door of Theresa's room wondering where the two would have gone. But decided against her rational thought and left the room without any aims of searching for them or telling the doctors. They would come back. That she knew for sure.

XXX

After a short period of simply sitting and staring at each other, Ryan finally started talking. Theresa was sure that he mentioned something about killing the guy that did this to her and the time that one of his mom's boyfriends did the exact same thing to him. She felt bad that he, of all people, was making an effort to continue conversation and yet nothing he said really buried itself into her mind. She simply stared at him. The flat wall paper blue of his eyes, the soft pronounced movements of his mouth, the way his skin crinkled as he thought of something new to say. Maybe it was the painkillers, but Theresa found him even more sexy now than she did before.

After Ryan's little monologue, Theresa smiled a smile of appreciation. But the silence in the room, the quiet monster that built, was driving both of them insane. Leaning her head back unto the pillow, she groaned out loud.

"I need to get out of here!"

Ryan gave her a sidelong look, a look that partially said that Theresa was crazy and partially said that they should definitely get out of there. Without talking to her, he walked slowly around the room, eyes flicking in all directions. She sat confused on the bed, wondering what he was looking for. Trying to see if the two of them would leave the hospital now- or maybe just the room.

"Okay, hop in." Ryan announced as he produced a wheelchair by Theresa's bed.

"I have two legs you know." She stuck her tongue out at him. And there was something about her just then. It might have been the classic Theresa sarcasm. Or the way she stuck her tongue out at him, like they were ten years old again. Or the way she stuck her tongue out so he could see her tongue and think about kissing her. Something about her that brought out a dancing tennis ball in Ryan's stomach. Butterflies? Yeah right. They were playing Wimbeldon in his abdomen.

"You have a severely busted up knee."

"Fine!" she almost yelled. She maneuvered herself slowly, using her one good arm to support her weight, until finally her legs dangled over the bed, facing the wheel chair in front of her. Inching her legs closer to the ground, she let out an unwelcome yelp as pain flooded her injured knee. In pure reflex, Ryan leaned in and caught her. His arms wrapped her body, now so much thinner- not just with the loss of the baby but with the depression she had been suffering from.

"You okay?" he asked as he slowly lifted her and placed her into the wheel chair.

"I hate feeling so fucking incompetent. I can't even stand." She spat out. He kept quiet for a few moments, then gave her a look as a grin fell upon his face.

"You're hungry aren't you?" She was always bitchy when hungry. He wheeled her out of the room and down the hall in search of the cafeteria.

XXX

"What the hell do you mean she's in the hospital?" Summer jumped to her feet and stepped forward so she was mere inches away from the police officer. Seth silently prayed to Jesus/Moses that Summer would not completely fall into a rage black out. Especially not with a police officer as a target.

"Excuse me, officer. We need to see her immediately. Which hospital? Where is it?" Seth bombarded the man with questions before Summer could snap. "And why is she there?"

Summer turned to look at Cohen, he was calm and composed perfectly. His goofy vibe was completely on mute and he had this serious, concerned look. And she was immediately flooded with love for him. She truly loved him. He stood there, being one hundred percent man, getting answers saved only for family from the police officer. And he was doing not out of his genuine concern for Marissa, he never really liked that neighbor, Summer knew this for a fact. But Seth was doing all that for Summer. Because he knew how much her best friend meant to her. Because he was caring. Because he was her boyfriend.

Before Summer could continue to ponder the makings of her relationship with Summer, she heard the police officer say two heart crushing words. Drug. Overdose.

XXX

Marissa was dancing on the beach, the sand tickling her ankles as she twirled in a man's strong arms. The music was light and fast. Her giggles contributed to the sound that filled the darkness of the night. In the distance she could see lit Tikki torches. She thrived in every joyous moment dancing.

But she looked up and saw her dancing partner, her father. He swayed her back and forth and suddenly, she was six years old again. He spun her around and she turned to face a different man. Luke. His classic blonde hair falling into his bright blue eyes. She closed her eyes as he gently kissed her on the cheek. She regained her vision quickly, but realized that it wasn't Luke with her. Now it was Ryan. Marissa felt so confused. And yet she enjoyed being held by Ryan, they were dancing at cotillion again. They were dancing and she was smiling.

Suddenly, it all began to fade away. She was alone, the sand beneath her began to warm quickly. Falling to her knees, she felt as though she had been burned. Her mouth opened into a wide oval. Her screams never left her throat.

That was the exact location of her mind. Her body, however, was in an emergency room.

XXX

Theresa scooped Jell-O from the cup in front of her and held it high over her head. She could hear Ryan's lips make contact with the plastic spoon and tugged at it while it was still in his mouth. That was a big mistake. From above her a generous block of Cherry Jell-O was falling quickly. Before the words "Oh shit" passed through Ryan's mind, watching the Jell-O, it landed at the nape of Theresa's neck, luckily not falling into her hair, which was currently held up in a messy bun. A shriek resembling "eek" filled the empty hallway and Ryan covered his hears.

Cold and slimy was the Jell-O on her back, she leaned forward in hopes that it would stop sliding downwards. It did, just at the small of her back, one of the most sensitive parts of her body. Ryan was chuckling softly at the sight. As if Theresa in a hospital gown wasn't funny enough. Theresa in a hospital gown with a trail of bright red Jell-O down her back. Hilarious.

"Ryan! Quit it!" she demanded. "Help me out." And though she had made the request, shock still flooded her a warm hand was placed on her bare back. Rough tissue paper traveled up and down her spine until finally she felt neither the coolness nor the sliminess of the Jell-O at all. It was replaced by the warmth and gentleness of his hands, rubbing her back.

"Ryan." Her voice was a warning to snap back into the real world. He jerked his hands off of her immediately. They found their way back to the handles of the wheelchair and the two continued their trek down the barren hospital hall.

"So, uh, you're not still going to stay here after this?" he asked awkwardly. Unconsciously, he stopped walking when the words left his lips. She looked over her shoulder at him, the gaze from her dark eyes burning into his corneas. He could see the uncertainty, it was well hidden beneath the how annoyed she was for his asking.

"I don't know." She said quietly. Her eyes told him that she was honest.

"I could always kidnap you, you know." He said laughing, preventing the hall to be filled with a tension filled silence again. He spun her wheelchair quickly and she squealed in delight. Her eyes couldn't fixate on anything as the hall faded with her spinning. All she could hear was that he was laughing with her. It felt so good. It felt so right.

When he finally stopped spinning her, she lay back in the chair, stairing at the whiteness of the ceiling. White meant purity. It meant something completely different from the purples, greens and yellows of the bruises on her body. Her eyes caught on to black lettering. She gasped. Tears formed behind her eyes. Nursery.

"Ryan...." She choked on her own words. He said nothing but lifted her gently up, cradling her fragile body in between the hardened muscles of his arms. She peered through the vast window, and stared at the dozen babies laying peacefully in their basinets. Each was beautiful. Wrapped in either a blue or pink blanket, she counted four girls and eight boys. Ryan began to move, he was sitting himself into the wheelchair. Sitting on his lap, she could still see the babies in the back two rows.

"They're so beautiful." She whispered.

"Ours would have been more..." Ryan trailed off, feeling the wave of sadness overcome him. He sighed, closed his eyes and buried his face in her shoulder. Ours. Our baby.

Everything felt so gray now.