Fresh Existence

Author's Note:

The first part of this chapter takes place before and during the last scene of chapter 5. And by the way, the number is made up, so don't bother calling it, no one will answer.

Thanks for the reviews, I appreciate the words everyone said, good and bad.

Disclaimer:

Still own nothing to do with The OC.

Chapter 6

Sandy Cohen was nearly frantic with worry. He was trying to find Ryan so he could sign the papers necessary for him to become a Ward of the State but he was nowhere to be found. Just as he was about to call the cops, he heard Seth walk through the front steps and begin to trudge up the stairs to his bedroom. Exiting the kitchen, Sandy followed his son up the stairs and into his bedroom.

"Seth," called Sandy. After a few seconds of uninterrupted silence, Sandy realized Seth had his headphones on. Taking one of the headphones off of Seths' ear, Sandy tried again. "Seth?"

"Yeah, Dad," answered Seth uncomfortably. He was never good at lying; especially to his father.

"Do you know where Ryan is?" asked Seth while eyeing his son warily for any lies that are sure to pop out of his mouth. At the mention of Ryan's name, Seth took on an aura of guilt; which Sandy immediately picked up on. "Do you know where he is, Seth?" asked Sandy suspiciously. Seth vigorously shook his head before replying with a quick 'no.' After a few more minutes of intense questioning, Seth finally broke down.

"Alright! Alright! He's at the new model home!" burst out Seth heatedly. Sandy abruptly turned on his heel and strode out of the room his only son occupied. Within moments, he was sitting in his BMW driving through the gates that protected his little community.

Sandy drove for nearly twenty minutes before he reached the settlement at which Ryan was supposedly hiding out. He drove up the gravel driveway and just stared at Kirsten's most recent model home.

Sandy sat there running through every scenario in his mind as to why Ryan would run away like he had. At every scenario he ran a blank. The kid was a complete mystery. His contemplation was suddenly interrupted when he noticed smoke coming from the second floor. Throwing away every fire do's and don'ts, Sandy burst through the front door and up the stairs.

When he came to the door from which the smoke was hailing, he expected to find some sort of resistance; a locked door, a jammed door...a small body collapsed in front of the door. When he tried the knob however, he found no resistance as the door opened on well-oiled hinges. Standing in the open doorway, Sandy surveyed his surroundings and nearly cried out in shock and pain.

In the middle of the floor surrounded by a raginginferno, lay a tiny body that could only belong to one being. Sandy rushed through the flames to the unconscious Ryan. Kneeling down, he scooped Ryan into his arms and rushed out of the burning inferno.

Upon reaching the outdoors, Sandy placed Ryan on the dirt lawn. As soon as he was placed on the hard, cold earth, Ryan woke up coughing.

"Hey kid," whispered Sandy as he helped Ryan sit up," you had me worried there for a second." Pulling out his cellphone, Sandy proceeded to call the fire department. Ryan stopped coughing and sat staring at Sandy.

"What are you doing here?" rasped Ryan through black split lips. His right eye was swelled almost completely shut amd he had blood sluggishly flowing from a cut under that same eye.

"I'd like to ask you the same question," snapped Sandy. "What were you thinking?"

"I don't know," muttered Ryan," I guess I just don't want to go to foster care." Sandy smacked his hand to his forehead making Ryan jump in surprise.

"Right, foster care," murmered Sandy to himself. Sandy turned to stare at Ryan solemnly. "I'm sorry Ryan, I wish there was more that I could do but you have to go to foster care until your mother is found." Ryan put his hand to his face and checked for fresh blood. In the distance, sirens could be heard.

"Come on, believe it or not, Kirsten's been worried about you," said Sandy standing up. He recalled Kirsten literally following him around in his search for the young Atwood until her father called. "Plus, I don't think we want the cops to know about this little incident. Whatever you had in there with you will be burned beyond recognition anyway."

Sandy led Ryan to the BMW and opened the passenger door for him. "When we get home, I'm checking those injuries out and asking you how you got them, got it?" Ryan nodded his head in acknowledgement. As they drove out of the new settlement, a fleet of firetrucks drove past with their siren's wailing.

When Sandy pulled into the driveway, Kirsten could be seen opening the enormous front doors with a mixture of hope and worry on her face.

"Told ya she was worried about you," joked Sandy with a smirk. He looked at Ryan who had tears in his eyes. "Hey, what's the matter?"

"My face is starting to hurt," lied Ryan thickly. He didn't want to tell Sandy he was taken with his wife's concern, after allhis own mother was never this concerned about him. Sandy looked at Ryan with undisguised concern. Ryan looked away quickly.

Ryan was once again sitting on the toilet in the bathroom with Kirsten taking care of his injuries. Major deja vu.

Ryan watched as Kirsten grabbed a wash cloth from a drawer and wet it with warm water. She then came over to where he was sat and gently began to wash the smoke off his face. Ryan winced whenever she came into contact wherever Luke came into contact. After a muttered apology, she would continue with the cleansing.

After two minutes of intense scrubbing, Kirsten finally gave up the wash cloth for a cotton ball.

"You know the drill," commented Kirsten lightly as she put peroxide on the white ball. Ryan nodded thickly anticipating the sting from the ball and its offending liquid. Kirsten placed the cotton ball on the cut under his right eye; he immediately winced.

After Kirsten had finished washing his wounds, Ryan got into the shower to erase the odour of smoke that seemed to linger on his body and in his clothes. While in the shower, his clothes rinsed in the washer.

The ringing of the phone brought Sandy out of a deep thinking session. Getting out of the most comfortable chair ever, he lumbered across the room lazily to the phone as it continued its monotone ringing.

"Hello," greeted Sandy huskily. "They found her? Great. Okay. She's working there now? Excellent. Thanks." Hanging up the phone, Sandy stared at the number he had just written down.

Dawn

489- 0001

In the next room, the shower shut off.

"Honey," called Sandy," I'm going out, I'll be back in about an hour or two. There's a break in this case I have." After a muffled okay, Sandy pulled his coat on and vanished out the door and into his trusty BMW. The smell of smoke still lingered on the leather uphosltery, but Sandy couldn't smell it, he was thinking too deeply about the conversation he was about to have with someone he wished he didn't have to meet.