I'm back.  And here's another update.  I hope to write a little more frequently and finish this up soon, but I make no promises.  I hope everyone enjoys this… As usual, Mr. Schwartz and TPTB at Fox, I do not own The O.C. or any of its characters.  But I'm taking possession over this very long hiatus.  I might return them in November.

            Ryan sat in Dr. Acobas's office, studying the painting that hung over the therapist's chair. It was by a no name painter – but the view of the Brooklyn Bridge and the New York skyline as its background was still nice to look at.  Ryan wondered if the doctor was originally from New York, otherwise why would he have the picture hanging in his California office. 

            The secretary had told him to wait in the office and that the doctor would be with him in a few minutes, but that had been more than five minutes ago and Ryan wondered what was keeping him.  He was tempted to just get up and walk out, but didn't want to face Sandy with an explanation.

            That morning, when Sandy had reminded him about the appointment, Ryan had asked if it was too late to change his mind.  Sandy nodded.  "I'm afraid so, kiddo."  Ryan sighed heavily, while Sandy continued.  "I think this is important," he said softly.  "If you won't talk to me or Kirsten, then you should talk to someone.  You obviously felt it was important, otherwise, why would you have skipped school to see the doctor on your own?"

            Ryan's head snapped up.  He hadn't realized that Sandy knew.  He wondered why his adoptive father had said nothing.  The school hadn't called, because as far as they knew, Sandy had signed his son out, but Sandy didn't seem to know that.  Obviously, the therapist had said something.  So why was he being so calm about it?  He had yelled at Seth for cutting and had grounded Ryan before for ditching.  What was different this time?

            Sandy seemed to read Ryan's mind.  "I know it's not going to happen again," he said sternly.  "And it seemed pointless to bring it up.  What was I going to do, ground you?  You're already grounded."

            Ryan looked down at his cereal bowl, avoiding Sandy's intent gaze.

            "It was a mistake," Ryan said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.  "I shouldn't have gone to him.  I don't need to see the therapist."  Ryan didn't want to sit through a session, where the shrink believed he was a drug addict.  "He can't help me."

            "Well Kirsten and I disagree and so does Dr. Acobas. So for now, you're going.  Dr. Acobas and I will be in touch to see that you're going, so don't bother skipping.  If we have to, Kirsten and I will drive you back and forth."

            Ryan shoved back his chair, grabbing his empty cereal bowl and spoon.  Petulantly, he threw it into the sink; hard enough to make it clatter, showing he was angry, but not hard enough that it should break.  For the first time ever, Ryan walked away from the sink, leaving a dirty dish behind.

            Now, sitting in the analyst's office, Ryan knew he couldn't leave without facing the wrath of Sandy, and he preferred to avoid that right now.  Lately it seemed like they only communicated at home by arguing.

            "Sorry to keep you waiting, Ryan.   I had an emergency situation.  How have you been?" asked Dr. Acobas, as he settled himself in his leather executive's chair.  He grabbed a pen and yellow pad from the little table beside him and crossed his legs.  "When I spoke to your father, he sort of figured out that you had skipped school.  I hope I didn't get you into too much trouble.  Though I never did confirm it."

            Ryan shook his head.  "He mentioned it this morning, but it was okay.   It didn't get me into any more trouble, I'm grounded anyway for forever."

            Dr. Acobas raised his brows.  "Why is that?"

            "I started punching one of our guests during a dinner party."  Ryan instantly regretted his words.  There was something about this office that made him talk more than he wanted to.  Did Dr. Acobas have some special truth serum sprayed in the air to make his patients open up?

            "Oh."  The psychoanalyst didn't bother to mask his surprise.  "Why would you do that?"

            Ryan shifted into a sideways sitting position, so his legs were propped up on the couch and his back was leaning against the armrest.  He said, "It's not important."

            "It's important enough that you got grounded for a very long time."

            "Indefinitely. Until I tell Sandy and Kirsten why I did it."

            The therapist nodded knowingly.  "So they don't know why you hit this person.  Wouldn't it make life easier, if you just told them what it was all about?  You could hang out with your friends.  Date your girlfriend.  Enjoy being a teenager."

            Ryan sighed.  "I can't tell them."

            "Can you tell me?"

            Ryan tilted his head as he mulled over the question.  The doctor couldn't tell Sandy or Kirsten and maybe he'd start believing that Ryan wasn't the drug addict, but that he really needed to help someone.

            "I hit the bastard because he's the one who got my friend hooked on drugs.  He even provided him with samples."

            "I see."  But from the tone of his voice, Ryan saw he didn't see.  "Then why couldn't you explain this to your parents?  Surely they would understand your anger and they wouldn't punish you as harshly."

            "Because then they would want to know who it was on drugs.  They can't know.  I've got to help this kid without them finding out."

            "Ryan, it's not necessarily up to you to save this kid.  You've just turned seventeen.  There are trained adults to help youngster with drug problems."

            Ryan realized that the doctor was finally starting to believe him.  That there was someone else— not him— hooked on drugs.  He breathed a sigh of relief, and leaned forward, closer to the therapist.

            "I've done it before," Ryan said with a shrug of his shoulders.  "But this is different.  This person doesn't want help. With my mom, I only helped when she got so bad that she had no choice but to listen to me."

            Dr. Acobas kept his expression in check, hiding how his heart went out to this teenager who lived more of life than most kids his age.  "You know," stated the shrink, "You're with the Cohens now.  They want to take care of you.  One of the reasons they adopted you was so that you could just be a kid.  Let them be the parents."

            Ryan shook his head.  "I can't.  Not this time.  Anyway, it's not the same since Christina Hope was born.  Kirsten's been… different.  And Sandy is always worried about her.  He's too wrapped up in his wife and the baby.  I don't know if they could handle the truth."

            Suddenly, the doctor saw it and wondered why it had taken him so long to figure it out.  He felt like slapping the palm of his hand to his forehead and shouting, duh, but instead he said in a hoarse whisper, "Seth is the one on drugs, isn't he?" and Ryan slowly nodded his head.

            As Ryan pedaled home on his old rusty bike, a jumble of thoughts ran through his mind.  The bike was the only relic of his days in Chino.  Sandy and Kirsten had offered him a new one, but he had refused, preferring to remember where he came from.  Not that he could forget, but it was easy to become comfortable in the Cohen household with all its luxuries.  The bike reminded him it hadn't always been that way and that it could disappear any minute.

            The wind ran through his hair and his calves hurt from the exertion of pedaling at a half stand on the too small bicycle.  His shoulders felt lighter, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted off of him.  Now that Dr. Acobas finally believed him, maybe the doctor could tell him how to handle Seth.  He knew the doctor was still bound by confidentiality, so his secret was safely locked in the office he had just left behind.          

Though there was at least one more person who finally knew Seth's secret.  But he knew he could trust Summer.  He recalled lunch earlier that day and how he had realized that Seth was seriously going off the deep end.  At this rate, his brother was bound to hit rock bottom a lot sooner than he anticipated.

            He had walked over to his usual lunch table, tray in hand, only to find Marissa comforting a sobbing Summer.  When he threw Marissa a look, asking what was wrong, she mouthed over Summer's head that Seth had broken up with her.

            "Hey, Summer," he said gently, sitting down on the bench beside her.  He slid the lunch tray on the table. "It's okay." He rubbed the top of her arm, trying to be a comfort.  "You want to tell me what it was all about?"

            Summer looked up, her eyes red and puffy.  "I don't know.  I don't get it.  We were making out last night.  Lately, that's all he wanted to do.  But he was getting rough and I didn't like it."

            Alarm bells went off in Ryan's head.  "Did he hurt you?" he asked.  He would throttle Seth if he had hurt Summer. 

            Summer shook her head.  "Not like that.  He would just touch me all over and touch me hard."  Red crept into her face.  "My breasts were getting sore from all our fooling around and I told him, he had to be more gentle."  Slowly, she told Ryan and Marissa the rest of the story, occasionally stopping to give a little cry and burying her head in Marissa's shoulder.

            "I don't get why he's like that," she whimpered.  "What's wrong with Seth?"

            Ryan caught Marissa's eyes and he slowly nodded his head, as if it say, go ahead and tell her. 

            "Summer," Marissa said gently.  "Seth is hooked on pot.  It's not really him.  It's just the marijuana."

            Summer stared at Ryan as if only he could confirm it as truth.  He slowly nodded his head.

            "How could Cohen be so stupid?" she yelled.  If her sobbing hadn't attracted enough attention, her bellow did.

            "He's been going through a lot," Ryan said simply.  "And his new friend Mitch hasn't helped any."

            Summer's eyes widened.  "That's why you were beating the crap out of him at that party.  So why are your parents so pissed at you?" she asked.  "Once they realized what a turd Mitch is, they should have let you off pretty lightly."

            Ryan shrugged.  "Sandy and Kirsten don't know anything about this."

            "Why not?"

            Ryan sank in his chair.  "They can't deal with this right now.  I've got to help him on my own."

            He noticed Marissa and Summer swap meaningful looks.

            "Ryan," his girlfriend, said gently.  "When I overdosed in TJ, it would not have helped me if you had kept it to yourself.  You know, about my drinking and everything else."

            Ryan let out a deep breath as if he was a deflated balloon.  "You had nowhere else to go but up after TJ.  I'm hoping we can save Seth the dramatics.  We can get him some help before his parents have to know.  Sandy, maybe he could handle it, but Kirsten, she'd probably break."

            "Won't they be mad at you, if they find out you kept this from them?" asked Summer.

            "I'm hoping it won't come to that.  Just do me a favor," he said turning to both girls.  "Please trust me on this one.  I know what I'm doing."  But deep down, he wasn't so sure anymore.

            "Are you doing anything tonight?" Seth asked Mitch.  They were sitting on the pier after school, passing a joint back and forth between them.  Seth had told his mother that he had another Litmag meeting after school, because they were trying to meet a deadline.  She hadn't questioned him, but just nodded her head.

            Mitch shook his head.  "My Dad has a business meeting with your grandfather."

            "I meant later."

            Mitch smiled.  "Right.  You're still grounded.  When does that end?"

            Seth scratched his ear.  "In a couple of days.  At least I'm not Ryan."

            "Why?"  Mitch took a long drag on the joint.

            "My parents grounded him until he tells them why he punched you."

            "How long will it take him to crack?" Mitch asked curiously.

            "You don't know Ryan.  He's not much of a talker.  He can take lots of crap."

            "So you think your parents will crack first?"

            "Most definitely," Seth said, with a wry smile.  He glanced at his watch and said, "I better be getting home."

            "I'll take you," Mitch offered.

            Ten minutes later they were parked a block from Seth's house.  He had asked Mitch to drop him off there, in case someone should see him.  He knew Ryan had a meeting with Dr. Acobas, and he thought Sandy might come home early to see how it went.  Not to mention the new nanny had started and that meant Kirsten would possibly more aware of her sons' comings and goings, since she wasn't busy with Christina all day long.

            "Seth, my connection just gave me a couple of samples."  Mitch pulled out a small ziplock back with two white pills.  "You want to try it?"

            "What is it?" asked Seth.

            "X.  It will far surpass the high you get from the grass."

            Seth hesitated, but took the bag from Mitch's hands.

            "Hang on to it.  You don't have to take it right away.  When you're in the mood."

            "Don't you want it?"

            Mitch shrugged.  "I had some.  I can always buy more."

            "Thanks."  He stuffed it into his pocket and jumped out of Mitch's car.  "See you tonight?"
            "I'll wait here at eleven."

            "Mr. Cohen, your son's guidance counselor is on extension 3021."

            Sandy's head jerked up as the secretary's voice came over the intercom.  He wondered what trouble Ryan had gotten into at school.  He closed his eyes and picked up the receiver, thanking the receptionist.

            "Sandford Cohen," he said.

            "Mr. Cohen, this is Mr. Ahearn, Seth's guidance counselor."

            "Seth?"  Sandy couldn't hide the surprise in his voice.  "I thought this was about Ryan."

            "No, no," reassured the guidance counselor.  "Ryan is doing wonderfully.  You should be very proud of him.  But I'm concerned about Seth.  I've noticed his grades have been dropping.  I've tried to schedule a few appointments with him, to discuss it, but he keeps missing them."

            Sandy sighed.  He wasn't even sure how to respond.  Aside from the one night where Seth had stayed out, he seemed okay.  He knew things had been tense since Christina's birth and especially since Ryan's fight.  He had noticed Seth had been a little edgier than usual, but he hadn't thought it had spilled over to school.

            "Are things okay at home?  Is he having behavioral problems there to?"

            "Um," Sandy closed his eyes, thinking hard.  He rubbed his temples, willing the dull pain that was starting behind his eyes, to go away.  Kirsten was finally getting back to normal.  She was fighting her obsessive need to be everything to the baby.  They didn't need any more problems.  "My wife and I, we had a baby this summer.  It's been a little hectic.  Things are finally calming down, but it's been a long time since there was a baby in the house.  Until we adopted Ryan, Seth was an only child."

            "It could be as simple as that.  We can deal with this in a number of ways.  We can schedule a meeting with you, your wife and son.  We can discuss it with Seth.  Work out a game plan to bring his grades back up.  He's going to start filling out college applications any day now, and I don't want this to adversely affect his chances of getting into the school of his choice.  He's always been a top student."

            "I think I'd like to talk to Seth first.  See what he says.  If possible, I want to keep this away from my wife."

            "If that's what you think is best.  Okay.  Will you keep in touch?"

            "Absolutely.  And Mr. Ahearn, thank you for your call."

            Sandy hung up the phone while yanking open his desk drawer.  He pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen and popped four pills into his mouth, washing it down with a gulp of water.  He wouldn't be able to hide it from Kirsten for long.  He just wanted to keep it from her until he spoke to Seth first.  Maybe, it was nothing.  Maybe it was really all about the new baby.  But the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, told him otherwise.

            Ryan glanced at the clock when he heard Seth slam his bedroom door shut.  Bad move, thought Ryan as the baby started wailing.

            "Seth Cohen," Kirsten yelled, coming out of her bedroom.  "Don't you dare slam any doors when the baby is sleeping."

            "Sorry, Mom," Seth said, sounding genuinely contrite for the first time in days.

            "It's okay, Mrs. Cohen, I'll look in on her.  I'll get her back to sleep."

            Ryan could practically hear Kirsten's sigh of relief through the walls.  "Thank you, Ms. Rothman.  That would be wonderful."

            Ryan pictured the nanny's sweet smile as she said,  "That's what you hired me for, Mrs. Cohen.  Go back to sleep.  You need your rest."

            "Thank you."

            Ryan heard Kirsten's bedroom door close and within minutes the baby stopped crying.  Sensing, the coast was clear, Ryan left his bedroom to talk with Seth.  He didn't feel like facing Kirsten, who would ask about his therapy session and he didn't want to have to make polite conversation with the ever-cheerful Mrs. Rothman.  He just wanted to see Seth.

            "Seth, can I come in?"

            Ryan was already halfway into Seth's room, so his brother just shrugged.  He was lying on his bed, half sitting, his long legs extended.

            "Most people wait for an answer."

            "I didn't want to wake the baby again."

            Seth bit his lip, failing to hide his smile.  "Mom's going to kill me when she wakes up fully."

            "As long as it's not me."  He sat down on the computer chair, watching Seth fiddle with his ipod.  He searched his brother's eyes, looking for signs of drug use.  Seth's eyes were red, and Ryan could tell he had smoked that day.  Ryan swiveled in his chair, turning to face the computer.  He ran his fingers along the keyboard and said, "I heard you and Summer broke up."

            "News travels fast." Seth took off his earphones, resting them around his neck.  Ryan hid his smile, but was inwardly delighted that Seth was making the effort to have a real conversation with him and not trying to block him out.  "I heard you went back to the head shrinker."

            Ryan rolled his eyes.  "Flying fists and a closed mouth with get you right back on the analyst's couch."

            "So, you told him why you punched Mitch."

            Ryan nodded, noticing that Seth had diverted the conversation from his breakup with Summer.

            "I suppose he wants a family session now."

            "He wanted one before, but yeah, he wants one now."

            "So your shrink thinks I'm a drug addict."

            Ryan shook his head.  "No.  But I think you're addicted to drugs.  And if you would just admit to it and get help—"

            "I don't need help."  Seth put his headphones back in his head, signaling the end of the conversation.

            "Are you going out again tonight?"

            Seth didn't say a word.

            "Well, you'll need help when they check up on you. I'm not lying for you anymore."

            "I told you," Seth said, coldly.  "I don't need your help.  I don't want your help.  I'll do what I damn well please and if Mom and Dad finally open their eyes and catch me, so be it."