The First Month

So here's the next installment. Sorry if it's a bit too short for everyone's liking! Once again, thanks to everyone for their reviews, I really appreciate them. The next (and final) chapter should be up sometime next week, hopefully by Thursday or Friday. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, titles, etc.

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Sandy sat on one side of the couch, Kirsten on the other, with a sleeping Seth in her lap.

It was now late afternoon, and Ryan had been in his room, asleep, since shortly after lunch. Both boys had been kept home from school with the flu, which was spreading through their kindergarten class like wildfire even though school had only been in session a week.

"Hi, sweetie," said Kirsten. Sandy tore his eyes away from the television and followed Kirsten's gaze to the foot of the stairs. There stood a pajama-clad, tousled haired Ryan, whose heavy eyes focused on Seth and Kirsten, with an expression on his face that Sandy couldn't quite place.

"Hey there, big guy," said Sandy, making his way over to Ryan and crouching down so he was facing him at eye level. "How're you feeling?" he asked, putting his hand on Ryan's forehead to feel for a fever and waiting for Ryan's standard reply.

"Good," Ryan replied softly.

"Do you want something to eat? You didn't have much lunch. How about some toast? That shouldn't hurt your tummy too much."

"I'm - I'm not very hungry."

"Alright then," continued Sandy affably. "How about some juice? And you're due for some more Tylenol too."

Ryan nodded, and Sandy scooped him up and carried him into the kitchen. He set him down on the counter, and as he moved away, Ryan's hands, which had been clenching Sandy's shirt, were now clamped tightly around his neck. Noticing the look of terror on Ryan's face, Sandy gave himself a mental slap. "Sorry kid. I forgot. Let's go to a chair." Ryan hated heights. Even small heights, such as the countertop, were enough to drain the colour from his face. Come to think of it, he was surprised Ryan had allowed himself to be carried. When Sandy had taken the boys to the park the week before, Ryan had refused to go near the swings, slides, and jungle gym, preferring the sandbox instead. No amount of cajoling from Sandy, or whining from Seth, had changed his mind.

Sandy gathered Ryan in his arms again, picking him up off the counter and setting him down on a seat at the kitchen table. "You just sit tight," he said, and went on a search around the kitchen. He came back with a cup of juice, some chewable Tylenol, and a thermometer.

"Temperature first." He stuck the thermometer in Ryan's mouth, with instructions to keep it under his tongue. He studied Ryan as they waited for the beep. He looked so tiny, sitting at the table in his racecar pajamas. He had filled out a little, in the three weeks he had been living with them, but he was still thin, and short for his age. Although with the way he'd been eating for the past couple days he was sick, they were probably back at square one. He and Kirsten had taken Ryan to their pediatrician shortly after he'd moved in. Routine stuff - height, weight, physical, blood tests. They left with a set of dates for future inoculations and a diet plan to help Ryan pack on a few pounds.

The thermometer beeped, and Sandy took it out of Ryan's mouth.

"102.1" said Sandy.

"What does that mean?"

Sandy smiled. "It means you're still sick. Here you go," he said, handing Ryan the Tylenol. "Chew them up really good." After the pills came the juice, which he sipped on half-heartedly.

"Okay, kid, are you going back to bed?" asked Sandy as Ryan finished his juice.

Ryan looked at the floor. "Can I…" He stopped for a moment, then seemed to gain courage. He looked Sandy in the eye and asked quickly "Can I sit on your lap and watch TV?" He bit his lip and looked at Sandy apprehensively. "Or…or I could go to bed. It doesn't matter."

Sandy laughed, and scooped Ryan up. "Of course you can sit with me, kid. Anytime. Let's go."

Sandy sat down on the couch next to Kirsten and Seth, setting Ryan on his lap. Ryan sat ramrod straight near Sandy's knees, looking throroughly uncertain of proper snuggling etiquette.

"Here Ryan, sit a bit closer," cajoled Sandy, sliding Ryan closer to his upper body. "Lean against me."

Ryan did as he was told, albeit apprehensively. Sandy could feel that every muscle in Ryan's body was tensed, and although he appeared to be leaning against Sandy, they were barely touching.

In an effort to get him to relax, Sandy started to slowly rub circles on Ryan's back. Ryan startled at the first contact, but then slowly began to relax as the minutes passed.

Kirsten watched with both amusement and dismay at yet another reminder of how different the two boys were. Seth was completely unguarded with his parents; he never hesitated to climb into an open lap, digging his pointy bones into their thighs as he made himself comfortable no matter how bad the timing might be. And when asleep, she could string him up by his toenails and he wouldn't even bat an eye. Ryan was a different story altogether. Even when he was sick, he kept his guard up, awakening the instant someone set foot in his room and flinching at every unexpected touch.

"You know Ryan," Sandy began after a while, "you don't have to be scared to ask for anything. If you want to snuggle, or somebody to rub your back, or anything, just tell us. Kirsten and I love you so much, and --"

"Sandy," Kirsten interrupted.

Sandy gave her a look, and continued. "We love you just as much as we love Seth, and we would do anything for you, kid. We want you to be comfortable with us, and I know it takes time --"

"Sandy," Kirsten interrupted again.

"What?" asked Sandy, raising his eyebrows.

"He's asleep."

Sure enough, when Sandy looked down at Ryan's face, his eyes were closed and his breathing steady. He was aware that Ryan's body was now slumped against his and felt like a hot water bottle. The kid was so small, and at this moment looked completely helpless. Sandy was suddenly struck with the realization that he was now responsible for him. He couldn't change what had happened to Ryan in his past, but whatever happened to him now would be because of himself and Kirsten. As with Seth, his actions would shape the person Ryan would become.

Sandy settled against the couch, just as "The View" came on the television. He looked with dismay at the remote control, resting on the far side of the coffee table, definately out of his reach. He hated "The View". But there was no way he was moving now. Not for the world.

TBC