Disclaimer: The O.C. is property of Fox.
Author's Note: For MissBegonia, for the second annual O.C. Sentence Challenge.

When Ryan finally woke it was with that special kind of weariness that only came with shaking off a sedative. And, as the memories of the night before slowly invaded his mind, he couldn't help but be glad that Sandy had insisted that he take it.

Trey was gone. Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.

There was nothing more to think. No words of comfort that could matter. No ache in his body could distract him. No amount of tears would make a difference. He felt blank, empty; a Ryan-shaped vase with dead flowers inside.

"Hey, you're awake."

Blinking through the bruises of his blackened eyes, Ryan rolled carefully over in the direction of the whispered voice.

Summer lay next to him, her hair puddled out on the pillow beneath her, her mascara smudged and clumping with the sleep in her eyes. It was funny, even though that wasn't how her friendship Ryan worked, both of them had known at once that when Summer had come out to the poolhouse in the final hours of night to check on him, she had positively no intention of leaving Ryan by himself. He hadn't argued or questioned it as she turned off the lights, kicked off her shoes and pulled the blankets back for him, even when she opted to sleep on top of them. And when in the eerie darkness, she heard his breath catch either in protest from his bruised neck, or in sudden remembrance of Trey's passing, she said nothing, instead reaching out for his hand and holding it tight until she felt him relax into sleep beside her.

Looking at her now, Ryan knew without doubt that no matter what happened from now, they would be friends for life in their own right, not just connected via Seth as girlfriend or better-than-a-brother. His eyes closed again in protest at the bright new daylight that streamed into the poolhouse from behind her.

"Ryan?"

"Uh-huh?"

Ryan squinted at her, grateful that he wasn't waking up alone today. Summer had slipped under the blankets sometime during the night and evidently, from the shoulder bare but for a bra strap, peeking out from the covers, had undressed too. That really had been a strong sedative.

"I'm awake," he croaked sorely. "I think."

"You sleep okay?" she asked as he brought his hand up and scratched at his nose, his eyes crossing momentarily as he tried to match the image of his taped fingers with his clumsy movement. "Are you sore?"

"A little. I'm okay." Ryan squinted at the bra strap again. "Those pills pretty much knocked me out, so…"

"Good. Sleep is good."

"Yeah."

"It's kind of ironic, don't you think?" Summer smiled with unstoppable casualness, "the first night I'm officially staying over as Seth's girlfriend somewhere other than the guest room and it's your bed I end up in."

"I suppose so," Ryan replied returning her smile with a frown.

Summer's stomach rollercoastered in embarrassment. "God, that was an unbelievably dumb thing to say."

"No, it wasn't. It's true."

"Ryan, I am so sorry," she said hastily.

"I know."

Forcing herself to look at Ryan, Summer frowned slightly as she tried to find the right words to say what she had to. "I don't just mean about sleeping in your bed."

"I said I know. It's okay."

Summer looked down, away from Ryan down into the darkness of the crumpled blankets. Ryan's way of seeing right into people, right to the soul of them was unsettling.

"I knew Seth would tell you. I knew what you'd do. I should have told you myself or at least waited 'til Sandy was back and could have stopped you, or something, I don't know and now- "

"- Now it's in the past instead of the future," Ryan sighed, uttering the truth to himself at last. "It was always when, not if. This way or another."

Summer said nothing. Like any words would help now, anyway.

"I miss him already. His face, you didn't see, but he was so scared."

For the second time since their friendship had been inexplicably yet undeniably redefined last night, Ryan was grateful as Summer reached out and his hand in hers.

"I'm not sorry that you told me. Just that you had to tell me."

"Me too," said Summer softly. It was pretty much the truth of the situation. "I-" she started then stopped with a sigh, giving up on words.

"People have lied to me my whole life. That you didn't, it means a lot."

"I don't like secrets. My mom always had secrets." Summer said, with a small shrug into her pillow. "Friends don't keep things like this from each other. Not like this."

"Thank you."

"It's okay."

"- I don't just mean about staying last night. For telling Seth."

"Yeah, well, it's what friends do, right?"

"Right," said Ryan, giving her hand the slightest of squeezes before gently releasing it.

And that was how it started.

After Trey, things never got back to normal. But they came close. Kirsten returned from rehab at the end of the summer and she and Sandy took Ryan and Seth away for three weeks up the coast. In the quiet house, away from the prying eyes of the world, they at last found the resting that had been missing from their lives for so long and gradually the new normal became better than the old one.

It was true, there wasn't as much giddiness in the Cohen household as there had once been, but there was a stronger sense of self as a family, as individuals, and a new sense of trust. They didn't have to try with one another anymore; the bond was there, unshiftable. So when Ryan told them that he wanted to stop looking for Dawn, they respected his decision. When he said that he wanted to see if it was possible to contact his father, they respected that too. Summer stayed over, often, and as much as she was Seth's girlfriend, she had also become a kind of sister to Ryan.

Eventually, inevitably, something happened.

Thanksgiving arrived. Dinner would be for five and the similarly quietly reunified Coopers would be joining them in the evening. Summer had placed herself at the head of the decorating committee and had sat Seth down in front of a pile of artificial berries and leaves and told him to "embrace his inner girl scout" and start creating table decorations, a task he had taken to with an almost embarrassing amount of gusto. There was, it seemed still, room for giddiness in the Cohen household. There was not, however, room for Kirsten, who was summarily banned from the kitchen by head chef Sandy and banned from the dining room workshop by Summer, who wanted the finished result to be a surprise. Ryan, having missed the handing out of assignments whilst talking on the phone to his dad, found himself flitting between kitchen alongside her.

"Want to go get some ice-cream?" Kirsten asked him eventually, after they had been chased out of Summer's workshop for the third time.

Ryan smiled at the prospect, "Sounds great."

"You know, I'm beginning to see the flaw in our brilliant plan," Ryan joked almost an hour later as they pulled up to their third closed ice-cream parlor.

"Yeah, me too," Kirsten agreed as she looked forlornly at the lonely tables inside Baskin-Robbins. "I really had my heart set on some rum raisin too."

"Ugh, no way. I hate rum."

"Well, it doesn't actually taste of rum, which is probably a good thing I guess," said Kirsten as she pulled the car temporarily into a parking spot. "It's ice-cream rum flavor, like banana flavor isn't banana flavored. Except for this tiny place in Fairfax where my cousins used to live, they had the most amazing organic ice cream. The banana-walnut was to die for."

"You've thought way too much about this."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd tried it. And the waffle baskets? Heaven."

"I'll take your word for it," Ryan teased, trying not laugh at Kirsten's almost dream-like expression.

"You're mocking me, I can tell."

"Never."

"So what do you want to do? We could head down to the pier, pick up some Balboa Bars?"

"Uh, I don't know," said Ryan watching the traffic rush by. "I always seem to end up wearing more than I eat."

"Okay," Kirsten smiled wryly.

"You're mocking me, I can tell." Ryan replied in false offence, without looking at her. He glanced up and down the highway in front of them, searching for inspiration. "We could probably pick up a carton of Ben & Jerry's over there," he said pointing in the direction of a gas station a hundred yards down the road.

"Perfect."

"So," Kirsten said carefully half an hour later as she and Ryan sat in the parking area opposite the gas station, contentedly scooping the fast disappearing Cherry Garcia from the soggy carton sitting between them, "I wasn't going to say anything, but how was your father?"

"Uh, he's fine," Ryan said, feeling himself blush a little as he always did whenever conversation with the Cohens turned to his biological family. "There's going to be turkey later."

"Oh, that's nice."

"I guess so."

The mood in the car shifting subtly with the change in the music on the stereo, Kirsten turned in her seat to face Ryan. "Sandy and I were talking about it the other day and we wanted you to know; if you want to go and see him, that's okay and we'll help you."

"Oh," said Ryan, not as surprised by the office as he once thought he might have been, "Thank you."

"You don't have to, of course, we just wanted you to know that if that's something you want to do, we'll support you."

"Can I think about it?"

Kirsten smiled, "Of course. No pressure. We'll save that for nagging you and Seth about SAT prep."

"Great," Ryan smiled sarcastically.

"You worried?"

"About the SATs?"

"Hmm-mmm," mumbled Kirsten, sucking at the last sloppy spoonful of melting ice cream.

"Not really. I took the PSATs back in Chino, so I kind of know what's coming."

"You did? I didn't know that."

Ryan shrugged, neither dismissive nor proud of it, "It was an option, so I signed up. Came in the top percentile in my year too," he boasted with the suggestion of a grin.

"Nerd," teased Kirsten.

"Yeah, I know. But that was the PSATs and it was two years ago, so…"

"Got some work to do?"

"Yeah."

"Well I'm sure Seth can help you with the verbal."

"No kidding," Ryan laughed. It felt good, unforced and unconscious. Different from last year.

"Ugh, I am so full of sugar," Kirsten said, flopping back in her seat, "I can't believe we ate all that."

"We?"

"Okay, me," Kirsten conceded good-naturedly, pressing her hands to her stomach in only half-feigned discomfort, "I think you may have to drive home."

"No problem," Ryan replied. He grabbed the empty sticky carton and opened the car door, "I'm just gonna go and wash up."

"Sure. Can you grab me a couple of paper towels?" asked Kirsten, dabbing at the sticky mess of ice-cream left in the cupholder. "Sandy brings half a coastal shelf into my car, but woe betide anybody leaves so much as a speck of dirt in his."

Ryan smiled, "No problem."

He left Kirsten in the car and went round to the bathrooms at the back of the gas station, the spoons spinning round in the container as he walked. Depositing the sticky mess in a trashcan, he headed into the bathroom.

There was a beautiful woman in front of him, half-naked but for a black bra of the plunge and push variety.

"God I'm sorry," stumbled Ryan, backing out hastily, "Wrong bathroom."

He stood outside the door, his blood rushing both to his face and another distinct part of his anatomy as he tried to process the sign in front of him.

Men's. Huh. Interesting.

"Okay that was embarrassing," he muttered to himself, as he regained logical thought.

Within seconds, it was disrupted once more as the woman opened the door, pulling down the edge her t-shirt towards the top of her low-rise jeans.

"Hi," she smiled with an apologetic smile on her face.

"Hi," squeaked Ryan, inadvertently regressing to puberty at the sight of her toned belly, beautifully swollen with pregnancy as it peeked out from under her t-shirt. If this is what pregnancy did to already undeniably graceful women, it should be made illegal; the male population of the world was just not safe.

"Sorry about that," the woman said to him, "The women's bathroom's flooded, there's water everywhere. It's pretty nasty."

"Oh, okay," Ryan said, wishing not for the first time that in spite of everything that happened that he naturally shared Trey's unabashed confidence when it came to women so very clearly out of his league. Not that he hadn't had success in this area before, but the dark-haired petite and curvy woman before him was in her late thirties, maybe early forties, self-assured and given the fact she was clearly pregnant, also undoubtedly taken. Ryan had to admit that even on his best form, there was no way.

"So did you want to use the bathroom?" She asked, holding the door open for him.

Uh, yeah," Ryan said feeling himself blush again, "Thanks."

He followed her into the bathroom and determinedly shunning the urinal, headed straight for the only marginally less grotty stall. As if that was going to make any difference whilst he knew she was out there. Ryan listened to the sound of the woman rummaging in her bag, praying for her swift departure, he didn't think his face could get any redder and he had absolutely no intention of heading back to the car looking like a red hot chili pepper.

Just when the stilted quiet pause was getting excruciating, Ryan heard the sound of the woman's heels on the tiled floor departing and the bathroom door swing open.

"It's all yours," she said casually as she made her exit, leaving Ryan alone.

"Uh-huh."

It was five whole minutes before he could return to the car.

"Are you okay? You look a little flushed," Kirsten said, regarding Ryan critically as he swung into the driver's seat and closed the door to behind him.

"I'm fine," Ryan replied in an easygoing fashion as he could muster, mentally kicking Kirsten for having such good blushing radar. He handed her the paper towels from the bathroom, hoping she wouldn't get too inquisitive. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Kirsten said as she took them and wiped up the condensation left behind from the ice-cream carton, "You sure?"

"Yeah. It's just hot out there." Ryan clicked on his seatbelt and adjusted the rearview mirror, pushing it way off center as the woman from the bathroom emerged from the gas station store.

Kirsten raised an eyebrow slyly at Ryan. "Oh, I see. Very hot."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up," he grunted with amusement,focusing his attention back on the mirror.

"You know," said Kirsten, squinting into the sunlight in the direction of the woman. "She looks kind of familiar."

"Really?" Ryan said skeptically, bracing himself for a jailbait joke.

"Yeah, I'm sure I've- oh my God."

Ryan looked at Kirsten as she looked down suddenly as the woman got back into her SVU by the pump across from them. Sneaking a final furtive glance at the woman, Kirsten watched as the woman pulled the car past them and on to the highway heading out of Newport.

"What is it?" Ryan asked nervously.

"She's pregnant, I can't believe it," she murmured to herself, her brow furrowing as she thought angrily out loud. "What is she even doing here anyway?"

"Kirsten?" Still after over two years, Kirsten was as surprised as ever to hear Ryan address her directly by name and she turned to him, saw his expression was weighed as heavily with worry as her's was with concern and frustration. "Who is she?"

Kirsten looked at him, knowing the chain of events she was about to set off and fearing it.

"She's Summer's mother."

When they got back to the house, Ryan dutifully made the rounds to Sandy in the kitchen before heading into the dining room, where Seth and Summer were clearing the last of the unused candles, ribbons and assorted fake foliage back into a cardboard box.

Ryan looked around the room in appreciation of the autumnal New England feeling they'd managed to harness in his absence. "Hey, this looks great."

"You think?" asked Summer shyly.

"Definitely."

"Is this girl a keeper or what?" asked Seth as he grabbed Summer in a hug.

"Yeah."

"You did all the candle decorations," said Summer, sliding the box on to the table to avoid dropping it.

"Yeah, well, I'm a keeper too," said Seth, planting a kiss on her lips.

Summer laughed as she extrapolated herself from Seth's gangly arms, "You're such a girl Cohen."

"Anyone else would feel my manly wrath for that remark, but somehow you make it charming."

"Too bad, I was aiming for insulting. I must be losing my touch."

"That's what happens if you hang around with girls."

Ryan laughed nervously with them, reluctant to trespass on their good mood.

"You okay Ryan?" asked Summer sensing his slight uncertainty, "You eat too much ice-cream?"

"Something like that." Mentally, he took a deep breath and hardened his heart to the task at hand. "Do you mind if I steal your girlfriend for a minute?"

With an inherent sensitivity to his demeanor that Ryan's other, more-related-to-him-brother had never possessed, Seth only needed a split-second to nod his quiet approval. "No problem. If Summer doesn't mind being stolen."

"Of course not."

"Thanks," said Ryan with a nod of reciprocity towards Seth, as Summer crossed over to him and the two of them left in the direction of the poolhouse.

Returning to task of clearing away, Seth's thoughts wound ever tighter as he wondered what had suddenly Ryan filled more full of tension than he had been in months.

"Hi." Kirsten's voice perforated the silence of his contemplation. She looked around the room admiringly as Ryan had done so a just few minutes before. "Oh this looks wonderful."

"Thanks. We wanted to make it special."

"It's beautiful."

"Mom? Is everything okay? With Ryan? He looked kinda not great."

Kirsten half-smiled plaintively. "We need to talk."

"What's going on Ryan?" asked Summer, following Ryan's suggestion that she should sit down.

Ryan paced for a moment, before stopping abruptly and facing her across the room. One moment of looking at her big confused eyes and he started pacing again.

"Something happened earlier, when Kirsten and me went out."

"Okay," Summer said uncertainly, trying to follow Ryan's pacing as he stopped again and sat down on the side. "Are you okay? 'Cause you seem a little- "

"God, no, we're both we're fine."

"Okay," Summer said again, trying ineffectually to read him. She'd gotten so good at interpreting Ryan's moods and body language, to lose her handle on him was both frustrating and worrying.

"Look, I'm just going to say it, okay, because if it was the other way around again, that's what I'd want."

"If what was the other way round?"

"Do you remember the morning after Trey, and you were asking me if you should have told Seth about Marissa?"

"Of course," Summer said cautiously. This didn't seem just saying it to her.

"I said you did the right thing and I really thought that even after what-, I still think that. Even though Trey…"

Ryan trailed off, his voice cracking slightly as he looked down at the floor.

"Chino," Summer said gently, using her nickname for Ryan for the first time since Trey's death before asking again, "What's going on?"

Pulled back by Summer's carefully chosen words, Ryan forced himself to look at her. "I met your mother."

Before his eyes, every part of Summer became smaller. "What?"

"At a gas station on the edge of town. I talked to her outside the bathroom. Kirsten recognized her."

"Did she talk to her too?"

"No, no, she was in the car. It was only after she realized who she was."

"Oh."

Ryan sat across from Summer, his chest crushing with pity, as she tried to work out what this meant, what she felt.

"What did she look like? Did she look like me?"

"I'm sorry?" Ryan asked, surprised by the question.

"I have photographs. But she hasn't been back and she doesn't call much. Sometimes I forget what she looks like."

"Oh. I see, well-"

"- Does she still have a perm?" Is she still wearing heels taller than she is?"

In spite of himself, Ryan couldn't suppress the smallest smile at Summer's blunt way of expressing herself.

"Please don't laugh at me," she said quietly.

"I promise I will never laugh at you," Ryan said with immediate sincerity, his smile gone before it had begun. "No. She didn't have her perm. I didn't notice her shoes."

"Typical boy," Summer jibed, but they both knew her heart was far from in it.

"She was just below my eye level."

"Definitely wearing heels. My Dad never understood why, he always said liked being able to sweep her off her feet."

Summer looked up at Ryan, her eyes brimming. "She doesn't call at all. She just left."

"Hey." Ryan crossed the room to Summer and wrapping his arm around her, pulled her gently into his shoulder.

"She stayed downtown when she first moved out. Then she just left. There was a message on the machine and that was it." Summer sniffed and wiped at her eyes, even as the tears still came. "I still have the tape."

Silently, Ryan held her close. When she had been still for a long time he turned her head towards him and brushed the smudge of tears away with his thumb. "Hey. You okay?"

Sniffing thickly, Summer nodded. "Hmm-mmm."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Sorry I sniveled all over your shirt."

Ryan waved his hand dismissively, "Nah it's fine. I already spilled ice-cream on it, so-"

Summer laughed a little, sniffing again. "Sorry. It's stupid."

"No, it's not. If my mom showed up, I'd be the same."

"Probably wouldn't cry though. Get all Kid Chino on the wall, maybe."

"Maybe. He shrugged. "Honestly, I've no idea."

Kindly, Ryan brushed away the last of her tears and tucked a fallen tendril of Summer's hair behind her ear. "Better?" he asked softly.

Stealing herself together, Summer nodded back at him. "Better."

"Why don't you use my bathroom and I'll head back, talk to Seth. Tell him the exact same thing as Kirsten just did, see if he believes it second time round?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks Ryan."

"No problem." Ryan smiled at her as he stood up. Holding his breath, he made it as far as the door before Summer stopped him.

"Ryan?"

Knowing in his heart already that he was going to lie to her, Ryan didn't turn around.

"Was she alone?"

Ryan paused only for a moment before answering.

Friends didn't keep secrets from each other. But they didn't break each other's hearts.

"Yes," he said, without turning back, his body language telling Summer everything she needed to know, "She was alone."

() Original Sentence: Summer's mother comes to visit.