When Summer pulled the car up to the Cohens' front door, she was surprised to see Trey sitting on the front steps, smoking a cigarette. She hadn't even stopped the car fully when Ryan leaped out.

"What're you doing here?" Ryan demanded.

"Better question, Ry -- why'd you go without me?" Trey asked, tossing his cigarette away angrily.

Ryan was defensive, hands balled into fists at his side. Summer saw Sandy and Kirsten and Seth all bunched behind the brothers, crowded into the doorway. Why was Seth home? Oh boy. This was so not good.

"You can't leave the state, Trey. You know that. Besides, after what you said last time --"

Trey snorted.

"You know I didn't mean it. Is she . . . ?"

"Back on the junk? Yeah, A.J. has her strung out and . . ."

Trey's face twisted into a rictus of pain as he shouted over Ryan's increasingly desperate explanations.

"A.J.? Fuckin' A.J.!"

". . . ten dollars tricks in an alley! I had to do something, Trey. She called. She found me. She found us . . ."

"Did A.J. do that to you?" Trey demanded, gesturing to Ryan's battered face, but Ryan just kept going, talking at, what was for him, a remarkable rate. Trey reached his hand out to him, but Ryan pulled away, wrapping his arms around his waist in a self-protective gesture.

Summer regretted with every fiber of her being that she'd wished earlier that Ryan would show some vulnerability. God, now all she wanted was for him to shut up -- to go back to being silent, stoic, regular old Chino.

"It's a nice place, Trey. Really nice. I think she's going to like it . . . she seemed like she was going to give it a shot -- like she really wanted to be there -- "

"She's gone, Ry -- she's already gone." Trey interrupted, his voice soft, trying to get Ryan's attention. From behind him, Sandy made a move towards the younger Atwood, who was still backing away, closer to Summer -- to the car -- to escape, but Kirsten placed a restraining grip on his arm. "She jumped, man -- she jumped before you even hit the California line."

"No!" Ryan's voice was hoarse and fierce and desperate all at once."No, she said she'd try this time. She said . . ."

Trey cut him off, ruthlessly.

"She said she'd try? Jesus, Ryan, do you even hear yourself? Just tell me one thing -- did you sign her in as me? Did you use my name?"

"Yes! But only because I had to, man. I had to -- I'm not 18 . . ." Ryan was quickly approaching speed level "Seth" in terms of fast-talking, as the Cohens looked on in horror.

"They called, looking for me, Ry. She took off, demanded her cash back and she jumped -- just like that. She's gone, little bro."

Ryan stopped suddenly, backed up against the hood of Summer's car.

"No. She said . . . she said she was going to . . . five thousand? They gave her five thousand dollars?"

Summer saw Sandy startle at that, and start to ask a question, but Kirsten pulled at his arm once more to shut him up.

"She's gone," Trey repeated, and moved to pull Ryan into him once again. For a moment, Summer was sure that Ryan was going to hit his brother, but then she realized that he had gone rigid, his whole body shaking with fine tremors. Trey embraced him, and Ryan nearly collapsed against him.

If Summer never thought the Atwood boys looked much alike before, she did now, as their faces mirrored each other in identical masks of anger and grief

"She took the money, Trey! She took the money. She's gonna . . . oh God, what if I killed her?" the last was almost torn from him, followed by a fierce, harsh noise that Summer recognized too late as a sob.

It was that, more than anything, that finally broke everyone else's paralysis. Trey sank back down onto the steps with his sobbing brother in his arms.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Ry. You tried to help her. You always try to help. What she does now is on her," Trey whispered into Ryan's bowed neck.

Trey's voice was soft and steady, and he seemed not to notice his own tears. Sandy crouched down in front of the two boys, and put a gentle hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"Ryan, kid? You can't fix the world's problems. You can't stop Dawn, she's a grown woman. She should never have called you like that."

Another harsh sob sounded from Ryan, and Trey glared at the man squatting in front of them.

"No offense, Mr. Cohen, but it's probably best you shut up," he said. Sandy seemed not to notice.

"Let's go inside, boys. Ryan's had a long trip, and we've got a lot to talk about. You'll feel better once you've had a chance to calm down and get some sleep, maybe even something to eat. What do you say?"

Ryan tried to shake him off, but before he could do anything else, Kirsten was there. Summer hadn't seen her move, but suddenly there she was -- in front of the boys, holding out her arms to Ryan. Trey loosened his grip and let Ryan move into Kirsten's embrace. Even as he did so, Summer could see that Ryan was already regaining control of himself. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then another, and then Kirsten led him gently into the house -- her arm still around his waist -- whispering softly into his ear.

After a moment, Sandy hoisted himself to his feet, then offered a hand to Trey, who still sat, shaken, on the front step.

"Come on, you're twenty-one now. I don't usually recommend this as a coping mechanism, but I need a drink, and I'm guessing you could use one, too," he said matter-of-factly.

Trey ducked his head and swiped the sleeve of his t-shirt over his face surreptitiously. He looked at Sandy's outstretched hand a moment before taking it with a nod.

"Thanks, man. I've never seen Ryan so torn up before. Goddamned Dawn. I could use more than a drink, actually. But, it'll have to do, I guess.

Sandy smiled at him sympathetically, and threw an arm around his shoulder, escorting him into the house in much the same way Kirsten had Ryan.

"Sorry, kid, but despite what my father-in-law thinks, this is a drug-free household. You'll have to drink your poison like the rest of the Newpsies . . . " his voice faded as they disappeared into the house, leaving only Summer and a pale Seth behind.

Seth just stared into the house for a moment, before turning his gaze back to the driveway where Summer still stood in front of her car.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. He couldn't know for how much. She was sorry that she hadn't been able to be to Ryan was Seth was, that she hadn't been able to protect him the way that Seth and Coop would have wanted. She was sorry for so many things. What she wasn't sorry for, however, was their night together -- not that she'd tell Seth about that, ever.

He stirred, finally, and came over to her, gathered her into a hug. He smelled familiar, oddly unlike Ryan, even though they used the same laundry detergent -- the same shampoo and soap -- and she fit under his chin in the same comforting, Cohen-y way.

"Why are you sorry? I'm sorry. I should have been the wingman. Dude, not that I'm sorry I missed the whole Dawn debacle, because, seriously, I woulda gone off on her. And that would not have been having my boy Ryan's back at all . . . "

Summer half-listened as he rambled on, feeling his ribs through the thin material of his vintage t-shirt, his long, dry fingers rubbing the back of her neck gently. She shouldn't compare the two boys, the two experiences, apples to oranges, but the image of Ryan's shuttered face, his haunted eyes, was with her still. Maybe she should tell Seth, someday, maybe he would understand.

"Summer, are you okay?"

Apparently, she'd missed a cue. She tightened her arms around him, and smiled up at his concerned face.

"I'm fine, Cohen. Tired. Sad," she answered, honestly. He half-smiled at her and looked, for a moment, like he was going to chuck her under the chin.

"It's just, not to court the rage blackouts or anything, but this had to be strange for you, too," he said.

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"It wasn't, you know, a lot of fun. But I like Chino. He's, like, your brother, sort of. I wanted to help."

"It's weird, you know, to see him and Trey so messed up over this. I mean, if it was my mom, I'd be a wreck, but for that crack whore? I don't think so."

It was always surprising when Seth's voice took on Sandy's deep timbre, when she was reminded that he could, and did, take some things seriously. No matter what happened, no matter what Ryan thought or felt, Seth would never forgive Dawn. Not just for today, but globally, totally.

Seth's anger was unexpected, and a little naive, but it felt a little good to her, to be inside that circle of protection. She would never tell him, she decided. Not because he'd be angry at her, but because he would understand. Ryan would always be the most important person in his life, and if she could accept it, she didn't necessarily want to confront it, at least not right now, still standing in the Cohens' driveway.

"She's his mom, Cohen," she whispered, finally, cutting him off. Seth looked a little startled at that.

"Would you . . . " he started to ask, then trailed off, embarrassed,"Never mind. Just, come inside, we'll have some dinner, see if the Atwoods -- Greater and Less -- have restored their manly facades."

She pulled back from him a bit, still comfortably ensconced in the circle of his arms, and shook her head.

"Thanks, but I don't think I'm the person Ryan wants to see right now. Go -- be with him -- with your family," she emphasized. For a moment he looked uncertain, then nodded.

"Yeah, he's probably not going to be real social for a bit. You sure you're okay?" he asked, pulling her back in again and kissing her on the temple.

She nodded, and this time he let her pull away. She climbed back into the driver's side of the car, and it felt as though she's been gone for a year, not a weekend. She started the engine, but Seth was still hovering outside the door, as if afraid to let her go. She rolled down her window.

"Seth," she said sharply, and he jumped. She almost never called him Seth, but it seemed to suit him, just now."About what you were going to say, before . . . "

"I'm so sorry about that, it's none of my . . . "

She interrupted his interruption.

"No, it's fine. It's just, I was going to say . . . . My mother wouldn't recognize me if she walked down the street next to me. She doesn't even remember my birthday, most years, and she was there for the occasion. But if she called and asked for my help, I'd fly to Antarctica, just like that, no questions asked."

She snapped her fingers, and Seth jumped again. He looked gobsmacked by the revelation, and she was a little embarrassed to have made it. She put the car into reverse, and leaned up to kiss him goodbye one more time. He met her halfway, with a soft, tender kiss, and when she was done, she whispered in his ear,

"You can't pick your family, that's why everyone else is so important. Don't be too mad at Ryan. He picked you. So do I."

She was gone before Seth could reply.