Author's notes:

If I never hear the word "dissertation" again, I will be the happiest person in the world. Same goes for "midterm" and "proposal". Sorry for the delay in getting this up, but I have tons of stuff due at the end of the week. Between classes and training for my new job, I've had next to no time. But my rough draft of my proposal is done, and I've outlined everything for my midterm that's due on Friday, so I figured I'd finish this chapter and get it up so y'all can have something to read while I get everything else straightened out.

Does anyone know where I could find a beta reader for this? Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you Ally, HateToSayIToldYouSo (loved your latest update!), BonnieD (I'm a big fan of yours, and I appreciate your comments!), Elzed (today's Chinos Redux update made my day!), Melanie39 (Ryan skinnydipping would be very fun to write, but on a camping trip with the Cohens? I've been giggling nonstop at the thought) and make it stop Jamie (thanks for your reviews, and I'm glad you're liking this story) for all your words of encouragement.

Ryan glanced again at the clock, hoping that the hour was almost over. He didn't have anything against Dana, but this therapy business was new to him, and an hour was a long time to talk about yourself. Or to sit in relative silence. Ryan found himself missing Seth and his endless stream of chatter. One of the perks of having a best friend who talked nonstop was that you didn't have to say anything if you didn't want to.

"This is difficult for you, isn't it?" the intern asked. "You seem a bit uneasy."

Ryan felt bad. "It's not you," he tried to assure her. "I'm not very good at talking about myself."

"It comes easier to some people than others," Dana agreed. "And it's harder if you're not used to having anyone to listen if you do want to talk."

Ryan shrugged. "I don't know about that. Sandy and Kirsten are always trying to get me to tell them what I'm thinking and feeling."

"Do you ever tell them?" Dana asked.

Ryan shook his head. "Not usually."

"Can I ask why not?"

"I don't know," Ryan mumbled. "I'm not that big on talking about myself. I guess everyone else seemed to need the attention more than I did."

"What do you mean?" Dana asked, straightening up slightly. "Who needed the attention more?"

He shrugged. "My mom and Marissa, mostly."

"Why do you say they needed the attention more?" Dana probed gently.

"It's just that..." Ryan broke off and searched for the words to explain. "After my dad went to prison, she got really depressed, and she would tell me how hard it was to be raising two kids by herself, or how Trey wouldn't listen to anything she told him. And it was my job to listen and tell her she was doing okay and to make her feel better. Then when I came to Newport, I met Marissa and it started again."

"Those were some pretty heavy expectations for a kid," Dana commented.

"I was supposed to be the strong one," Ryan finished. "I was supposed to take care of my mom, and take care of Marissa, and I failed them both."

He paused for a moment. God, he needed a cigarette. He'd quit over a year ago, but he still had cravings when he was stressed, and this whole psych hospital business was pretty damn stressful.

"It sounds like you have some very high standards for yourself," the intern pointed out.

Ryan shrugged. "I'm supposed to be the one who takes care of everyone else. That's who I am. Or who I was."

"Who would you be if you weren't the strong one?" Dana asked.

Ryan gave a self-deprecating laugh. "That's easy. I'd be the delinquent from Chino who stole a car and burned down a house."

She didn't look surprised at that remark, Ryan noticed. She'd probably heard all about the stolen car and the model home from the Cohens. That was one of the things he hated most about this hospital: knowing that virtual strangers knew all about his past.

"Does this apply to the Cohens too?" Dana asked.

This had gone far enough. Ryan had had enough therapy for one day. "Do we have to talk about that now?" he asked, trying his hardest not to sound upset. "The medications I'm on are making me tired, and I think our time's up soon."

"It's okay, Ryan," Dana assured him. "We can save that for another day."

Ryan sighed in relief. "Thanks."

"You did really well, Ryan," she told him. "I know this isn't easy for you."

"Thanks," Ryan repeated. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

Dana laughed. "Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment."

Seth had read somewhere that there were five stages to the grieving process. He didn't know if he was technically grieving, since Ryan was alive and coming home in a few days, but then again, he couldn't think of any other word to appropriately describe how you were supposed to feel when your best friend tries to kill himself without any warning. He supposed it could be grief, in a way. Ryan was alive, but what had happened had changed their family forever. Seth missed the easygoing days, before Marissa had died and Ryan had withdrawn into himself.

Anyhow, denial was supposedly the first stage. He had spent a lot of time in that stage, and now that he was out of it, he found himself missing it. It had been so simple to believe that everything had been a mistake, and once Ryan was home everything would go back to the way it had been before. But it didn't work that way, and now Seth was stuck somewhere between anger and guilt. Or maybe it was depression. Bargaining was supposed to be somewhere in there too, but he couldn't remember exactly. They had covered the five stages in his AP Psychology class last year, but he had spent most of that class passing notes with Summer, and he only remembered bits and pieces.

He was still furious at Ryan, but guilt had crept in as well. He was angry at Ryan, and he felt guilty that he felt angry. If it had been the other way around, if he had been the one instead, Seth had no doubt that Ryan would have been there for him every step of the way. He would have gone to visit Seth in the hospital every chance he got, no matter how mad he might be. He wouldn't make excuses about feeling sick or tired. Ever since he had moved to Newport, Ryan had been there for Seth. Now it was Ryan who needed Seth's help, and the least he could do was repay the favor.

And then there was the issue of college. Seth had been waiting for years to attend Berkeley. He had wanted to go there for as long as he could remember, and especially after his family had moved to Newport. He had already missed his first week of classes, and as much as he wanted to go back once Ryan was out of the hospital, he felt guilty for even thinking about it. Ideally, he would love to go to Berkeley with Ryan, where they could share an apartment, go to frat parties, hit on hot college girls, all that stuff that was an essential part of college. Seth could think of nothing better than Berkeley with Ryan, but he had a feeling his parents wouldn't go for it. They would want Ryan to stay close to home, at least for now. Which left Seth with two options: bail on Ryan and go back to Berkeley alone, or he could transfer to somewhere local like UCLA to be nearby.

When he brought up the issue to his mom, she suggested that they talk about it with Ryan when they went to see him that night. Seth regretted immediately having mentioned it to her.

Not surprisingly, Ryan had insisted that Seth shouldn't have to transfer schools, and that he would be fine if Seth wanted to return to Berkeley. It was such a typical Ryan response, and Seth wished that for once in his life Ryan would state a clear preference. He wished that Ryan wouldn't be so damned accommodating, and stop acting like he was such a huge inconvenience to everyone else.

"Seth, really, it's okay," Ryan told him. "I'm probably going to take a break from school for awhile anyhow. Maybe get a job or something."

"If you're doing well in your therapy," Sandy interjected.

Ryan sighed. "Do I really have to stay in therapy once I get out of here?"

"Sorry, Ryan," Kirsten told him. "The therapy's non-negotiable."

"All right," Ryan gave in. "I suppose there's no point in arguing about that one, is there?"

Sandy clapped him on the shoulder. "Smart boy."

"Really, Seth," Ryan continued. "If I'm not going to be in school, there's no point in your changing colleges right now."

Seth wanted to snap at him not to be so self-sacrificing and to stop acting like he was such a huge burden. He fought back the words, feeling guilty for even thinking these things about the best friend he'd ever had.

"There's no need to decide right now," Sandy offered. "Seth, you can do your first semester at Berkeley while Ryan takes some time off, and come January we can all talk again and see where we are and what we want to do."

"I'll visit a lot," Seth offered hastily. "It's a short plane ride. Cheap fares too. Or you could even come and visit me. You've never been to Berkeley, have you?"

"I was thinking of taking some time off as well," Sandy added. "I've got quite a bit of vacation time coming to me, and if I don't use it before the new year it all goes to waste."

It was obvious to Ryan that Sandy wanted to be able to keep an eye on him at home, to make sure he didn't hurt himself again. But he also knew that Sandy's intentions were good, and he couldn't find it in himself to be mad at him for it. "Sure, that would be cool, I guess."

"Oh, man," Seth groaned. "Ryan, hanging out with one's parents is never cool."

"Seth, son, you wound me," Sandy moaned, pretending to be hurt.

"Sorry, Dad," Seth apologized. "I suppose playing golf is cool if you're into wearing dorky pants and hitting ten dollar's worth of golf balls into the water. I'm sure you and Ryan will have tons of fun with that."

Kirsten saw a hint of a smile cross Ryan's face as he watched Seth and Sandy bicker. She had missed Ryan's smile in the last few months, and it was so good to see it again.

Three days later, Ryan was released from the hospital, and all four of them were on their way home.