Title: Trouble in Portland

Summary: What if Ryan had a harder time dealing with the loss of the baby in episode 2.01 The Distance?

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The O.C. No profit is taken from this story.

Author's Notes: AU for The Distance. Takes placeright after Ryan gets the call from Theresa telling him that she lost the baby.

Chapter 3

A couple hours after passing out, Ryan found himself starting to wake up, a little anyway. He turned over and realized that he was lying on a bunk. He opened his eyes and looked around for a moment. What he saw caused him to close them again. Great. He was in a jail cell, again. At least he was alone. And it was quiet. He was safe. He curled up and went back to sleep.

A couple hours later, Ryan found himself having to roll off the bunk and crawl over to the toilet as fast as possible, so that he could throw up. Afterwards, he was able to stand up, shakily, and wash off his face and rinse out his mouth in the sink before collapsing back on the bunk again. As he curled up and went back to sleep, again, he found himself grateful that the cell was so small that the toilet and sink were close enough to get to quickly.

A couple of hours after that, Ryan was a little more awake and was feeling a little better. He didn't feel like he needed to throw up any more, but he did have a killer headache. He wasn't asleep -- he was resting on the bunk with his eyes closed. He was trying to remember what happened last night. He remembered fully Theresa's call yesterday. He remembered going out and finding a house party. He remembered intending to get drunk. He remembered drinking a lot. Everything after that, until he woke up here in this cell was pretty much gone.

Which wasn't great because then he didn't know what he was under arrest for, and if he couldn't remember whatever it was that he did, he couldn't tell his side of the story. He could possible be totally screwed, here.

Ryan had already studied the cell he was in and figured that he was in a police station, rather than juvenile detention. Not that he'd been in either place in Portland, but he had been in both in Chino and in Newport Beach, and this place just looked more like a police station holding cell than a juvie jail cell. It was a tiny single-person cell with a solid door, not bars. He wasn't sure exactly what it meant that he was still at the police station. Maybe he'd just been arrested too late at night to be transported over.

When Ryan heard the unmistakable sound of the cell door being unlocked, his eyes popped open and he quickly moved into a sitting position, sitting on the bunk in the corner against the wall. He waited. He was kind of relieved when he saw that it was a woman police officer. She was kind of middle aged and was looking at him in a motherly way. She was by herself and she left the door open behind her. Obviously she wasn't wary of him. Which was good. That meant he probably wasn't under arrest for doing something violent.

As the policewoman walked in, she held out a glass of water and something else she had in her other hand.

"I brought you some aspirin, kid. I figured you're probably pretty hung over after everything that you had to drink last night."

Ryan gave her a little smile. "Thanks."

Ryan took the two aspirin tablets and glass from her and swallowed the aspirin. He looked at her uniform, and her nametag said "Officer Marge Simpson". He tried hard to hide a smile. He figured she probably heard a lot of jokes and didn't need to hear any more.

She sat down on the other end of the bunk and took out a small notepad and pen from her pocket.

"I'm going to need to ask you some questions, Ryan."

"OK, but um... can I ask you --" Ryan gestured around at the cell.

"Why you're here?"

Ryan nodded.

"What do you remember about last night?"

"Um... I got drunk..."

"And?"

Ryan shrugged.

"Well, you'll probably be relieved to hear that you aren't under arrest, not officially. A couple of our officers found you drunk at the bus stop and you passed out soon afterwards. They would have taken you home, but your driver's license said you were from California, so they brought you here to sleep it off. But we can't let you go until we find a parent or guardian or some other responsible adult to release you to. Otherwise, we'll have to give you to Child Protective Services."

Ryan nodded. That was good news. Hopefully if he wasn't really under arrest, that means that this little encounter with the law wouldn't be on his record and wouldn't affect his probation in California. Ryan was hoping that they didn't know about his probation here in Oregon.

Officer Simpson lifted up her pen. "OK, so, you live in California?"

"Yes." The Officer wrote that down.

"What are you doing in Portland?"

"Visiting friends."

"Did you come up here by yourself?"

"Yes." More writing.

"Your parents know you're here?"

"Um... I have guardians, and yes, they know I'm here."

"What are you guardians' names?"

"Sandy and Kirsten Cohen. C-O-H-E-N" She wrote that down, too.

"They live in Chino?"

"No, they live in Newport Beach... California."

"Address and phone number?"

Ryan gave them to her and she wrote them down.

"These friends that you are visiting -- is there a adult there who would be willing to take responsibility for you?" She smiled. "Eighteen-year-old friends don't count. We need like a parent or a guardian."

Ryan smiled back. "Um... yeah. My friend Luke's father." At least Ryan hoped that he'd get him out...

"What's his name, address, phone number."

"Carson Ward. W-A-R-D. I have their home address and phone number, but -- this is Monday, right? -- I don't have his work phone number or cell number, so..."

"Just give me what you have and we'll track him down."

"OK." Ryan gave her the Wards' home address and phone number and she wrote them down.

"Anything else I should know?"

Ryan shrugged.

Officer Simpson put her notebook away. "OK. Hang tight here and I'll let you know if Mr. Ward agrees to come get you."

Ryan gave her a half smile. "Do I have a choice?"

She smiled back. "No."

To be continued.