I don't own anything of the OCexcept for a poster I got from FOX….I wish I owned Adam or Ben…so please don't sue me…I'm a poor, soon to be college graduate….

This is my first fanfic everI came up with the idea while in the showerplease give me any feedbackanything good, bad, whateverI' m working on becoming a storyline developerso anything will help…..Thanks a million!

When it Counts

He had come home late that evening, the evening his world shattered, the evening her world was forever taken away. It was the evening that would forever be marked in their minds as the night he wasn't there for her. The one evening in their entire lives where just his mere presence would have been enough to save them from the hell that took over their perfect lives.

He heard her first. A slight whimpering, an almost whine. Instantly Sandy Cohen knew something was devastatingly wrong. He had come home late. Too late, but he was sure she would once again forgive him. Sandy knew he was beginning to push her patience to the limit. First forgetting their anniversary, then missing Valentine's day. She had been upset with himno she had been furious with him and she was not afraid to make her feelings known.

"Sandy, we cannot keep doing this. I cannot keep fighting for you. I shouldn't have to. You cannot keep putting another woman in front of me. You promised twenty years ago to be my number one. To be my rock and my shoulder and my life. Not hers. She gave you up the minute she ran. Your word has always been gold. I cannot make it through this world without you. Please Sandy. I will not live this way any longer."

Walking on eggs shells she had called it. Their existence had been downgraded to a mere animal product, not the solid stone a relationship should stand on. She had let her tears fall that evening. It was the first of many. That was his fault. He knew it and the next few weeks he worked hard to make it up to her. Flowers, gifts, romantic dinners, the works. He knew she didn't expect it or even want it, but it was the only way he knew how to beg for her forgiveness without getting on his knees. And even so, as he tried to fulfill his duty as her husband, he was still helping Rebecca behind her back. He didn't like lying to his wife, it had been rocky for so long. He couldn't bear to put her through that again. He knew he would one day tell her the reason for his long nights, his early meetings and his stoic gaze at the dinner table. Until Rebecca's name was cleared his mind would always drift. Or so he thought.

"What's on your mind Stranger?" she had asked him this morning. It was gray outside, rainy even. An oddity for the normally sunny California coastline. He was up early. Trying to pull his tie around his neck while watching her sleep. She looked beautiful, radiant even with not a splash of makeup. He was so glad she was his.

"Just pure awe and amazement."

She looked at him with her deep blue eyes and a gaze that shouted 'I love you' in the most silent way possible. It would be the last look he would get from her before he took off for workto see his second most adoring fan. His ex-girlfriend.

The thought of her lingered as he slowly made his way down the long hall.

Kirsten…Kirsten…Kirsten…his beautiful wife…Kirsten.

His legs weren't working for him. They were betraying him in his time of need, much like he had done to her.

The first thing that he noticed was the blackness of the room. She usually left the bathroom light on when she went to bed before him so he would have a glimmer to get around the large space. Tonight it was uncharacteristically dark. He quietly peaked through the ajar door, just in case his radar was off, just in case she was soundly asleep. Just in case, he tried to be quiet, even though his heart was pounding through his rayon shirt and coat. That's when he first heard her. The moment time stopped.

He couldn't find the light switch. They lived in this house for years and yet tonight he could barely make his way around it.

"Kirsten…Baby?" he called out. Hoping to God she would answer him in her infamous 'why are you waking me up' tone.

She didn't.

Instead he heard a hushed moan. A whimper somewhere inside of the room. Adjusting to the dark, he looked for her.

In the bathroomdark. In the bed—empty. He was frustarated.

Why did their room have to be so damn big! He thought.

And that is when he saw her. Through the moonlight that gleamed from the open window. On the side of the bed. Lost within the darkness. Covered in Egyptian cotton sheets. Bound with tape and wire. Blindfolded and gagged.

His breath stopped in his chest. He ran to her and she panicked. She didn't recognize him, she couldn't see him. She didn't hear his voice trying to sooth her.

'No!' she screamed inside of her head. 'Please not again.' She cursed herself for sending her sons out, and yet she was relieved. She wanted to fight, but she no longer had the strength and instead she went limp into shock. Her tears unconsciously soaking up the blindfold so harshly wrapped around her head, knotting up chunks of her blonde hair.

She was wearing her pale blue silky nightgown. The one she reserved for special nights. The one that as soon as he saw her in it, chills ran up and down his spine because he knew what she had in mind. The one that he had bought years before, but she still wore because she said it was like being in his arms even if they weren't together.

"Oh God. Oh God. Oh God…Kirsten…I'm getting you out of this…honey…please. Hold on." Sandy lost himself. He instantly felt the tears run down his face as he gently untied his wife. Whispering words to her, he slowly pulled the harsh tape away from her mouth. It made a horrible ripping sound. One he would surely never forget. She twitched in pain. The tape left an irritated red, square residue. He prayed she would open her lips…say something, anything…but she was silent, only letting out a gasp of air. He then removed the blindfold. Her beautiful eyes were puffy and red, one was slightly bruised. He kissed her forehead. It was clammy and covered in beads of sweat.

"I love you"

She began to relax, unconsciously she knew it was him.

The worst were how her hands were bound. With fishing wire. It had been so tight, drops of blood pierced the skin. He tried so hard to get them off quick, but it had been wrapped around the post of their headrest. It killed him to wonder how long her slender arms had been hanging from the post. How long she had been in pain. How long she had been afraid. Whoever did this to his wife would pay.

And that's when he saw it…the note that would forever stab him, hidden underneath the blindfold:

"You know what they say Cohen…if you want to get to the man, go after his wife…"

He reached for the cell phone she always slept near when she was alone. Realization hitting him dead on. The screen read "9-1"

As he felt her lay still in his arms, he cursed himself for not making her number one tonight. He knew this was solely his fault.