Disclaimer: I obviously don't own The O.C. or its characters…that all belongs to Josh Schwartz—brilliant man, that he is!

KC-Chick: Thank you so much for your encouraging reviews. I really appreciate your thoughts and opinions! Your words mean a lot to me and they give me the courage to keep going. :0)

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter three! I apologize for the lack of updating, but I've been very busy lately, what with final exams and soccer tournaments. Which my team made it into the first round by the way! Hehe, sorry I'm so excited about making it to the playoffs that I just couldn't keep the good news to myself. :)

Marissa sat on the edge of the hospital bed, swinging her purse back and forth. She was waiting for her mother to finish filling out some paperwork, so that she could be discharged. She was dressed in a comfortable pair of grey sweatpants and a tee shirt. The outfit reminded her of Ryan. Any time that he was lounging around the house, he would wear his old, raggedy grey sweats. Suddenly Marissa heard the door open, revealing her parents. A nurse stood behind them, pushing an unoccupied wheelchair.

"Ready to get out of this place, Kiddo?" Jimmy asked, smiling at her.

Marissa smiled back at him weakly and nodded her head. "Yeah, I can't wait to go home."

Julie and Jimmy stepped aside to let the nurse into the room. The wheelchair was wheeled up to her bed, and the nurse looked at her expectantly. "Do you need help, sweetheart?"

"I can walk perfectly fine," Marissa insisted.

"It's hospital policy, dear," the nurse replied, kindly.

She sighed, and sat herself down in the chair, her purse resting on her lap. Jimmy patted her shoulder sympathetically as they made their way out of the building. She contemplated whether or not she should have checked on Ryan before she left. Marissa had wanted to; though she was afraid of the way he would treat her. When they got to the entrance of the hospital, Marissa stood from the wheelchair, and waited next to Julie as Jimmy went to get the car.

"He's sleeping," Julie said out of the blue.

"What?" Marissa asked, turning to face her mother, clearly confused.

"Ryan's asleep. You wouldn't have been able to talk to him, even if you had visited him. Sandy says Ryan's very tired," Julie explained.

"Oh, um thanks for letting me know," Marissa replied, surprised that her mother had known what she was thinking about.

A few moments later Jimmy reappeared, though this time with the car. Julie sat in the passenger seat next to Jimmy, while Marissa sprawled herself out on the back seat, worrying about the days to come.

Meanwhile, Sandy and Seth stood outside Ryan's hospital room, talking quietly.

"Maybe we both should go in there? You know, try the whole two against one approach? That way, he'll have to talk to one of us," Seth suggested.

"I don't know Seth," Sandy said skeptically. "I don't want to pressure him."

"Well dad, he's got to talk eventually. Besides, if Ryan keeps this all inside of him, he's going to have a major meltdown," Seth enforced his opinion adamantly.

"You're right," Sandy nodded his head. "Let me go in there first, though. You can have a heart-to-heart with him afterwards."

Seth wrinkled his brow. "Dad, Ryan doesn't have "heart-to-heart" talks with anyone!"

"Well he's about to," Sandy said firmly, opening the door to Ryan's room.

As he walked into the cubicle, he stared at the boy in front of him. Ryan was lying in his stretcher, curled up into a ball. He was fast asleep, his head cocked to one side of his pillow. Ryan's face was covered in bruises, and he looked utterly uncomfortable.

Sandy pulled up a chair and sat down next to Ryan's sleeping figure, quietly clasping his hands together. The past two days had been horrendous, and Kirsten still wasn't allowed to make any phone calls. He needed to talk to her; he needed someone that he could vent all of his troubles to. Though, Sandy also knew that what Kirsten was going through was just as serious, and he didn't want to make her worry, anymore than she already was.

He sat by Ryan's bedside for what seemed like hours, just watching the boy breathe in and out. Every time his chest would rise and fall, Sandy thanked God that it wasn't his last breath; the thought of losing Ryan was unbearable. He had indeed almost lost him. If Trey had continued to strangle his brother, Ryan would have undoubtedly died that night. His thoughts drifted back to the day he had met Ryan. Sandy had felt that the boy was a spitting image of himself when he was sixteen, minus the criminal record. He remembered the look on Ryan's face, when Sandy had picked him up in Chino, the first time he had seen the Cohen's mansion, the fear in his eyes after reading the pathetic note his mother had left him. He reminisced about their first dinner together as a family, Seth's initial reaction to the guest in their house, how angry Kirsten was at him for bringing home a juvenile delinquent. Throughout the past two years they had become a family, they all had formed such a strong bond. At that moment he realized how much he loved Ryan. He had grown to love him like his own son, his own flesh and blood. He couldn't imagine life without him.

Suddenly Ryan began to stir; he rolled back and forth murmuring something that Sandy couldn't understand. He placed his hand on his shoulder in an effort to calm him down. The gesture did no use, and Ryan began to thrash his arms around, pushing Sandy's hand away.

"No, don't shoot, don't shoot!" Ryan screamed

This startled Sandy immensely. "Ryan, Ryan wake up. You're having a nightmare," he said, continuing to shake him.

"Please stop! Don't hurt them…please," he whimpered, sweat perspiring down his face.

"Ryan, kid you're having a bad dream. Wake up," Sandy repeated, this time his voice louder.

Ryan awoke from his terror in a jolt. He sat upright in the bed, as Sandy propped a couple of pillows behind his back to support him.

"S-Sandy?" he whispered.

"I'm right here Ry, and I'm not going anywhere," he promised, wrapping his arm around Ryan's shoulders. "So, you seemed pretty freaked out. Are you okay?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'll be fine," Ryan answered.

When he didn't offer any more information, Sandy continued to question him.

"You want to talk about it?"

Ryan cleared his throat. "I-I just can't stop," he sighed then resumed speaking. "I can't stop thinking about what happened." He looked Sandy in the eyes for the first time in two days. "I mean, what am I supposed to do? I don't know how to get in touch with my mom, and I have to be the one to break the news to her."

"Ryan, I don't want you to worry about this. I am going to take care of everything. I'll track Dawn down. Everything will be okay. I'll make sure of it," Sandy tried to make him feel better.

"No, everything will not be okay! None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me when I told you that Trey was trouble!" Ryan lashed out, his eyes filled with tears, and the look of betrayal in his eyes. Sandy recognized the expression. It was the same one he wore when he realized that his mother had left him with nowhere to live, and no one to love him.

Sandy winced as Ryan's words cut into him. "You're right. I should have listened to you. I'm sorry," he apologized, even though he knew it was too late. The damage was already done. "I thought I was doing the right thing, opening up our home to your brother. I really believed him when he said that he was going to get his act together."

"I know that Sandy! But I warned you beforehand that all Trey ever did was lie. He made promises that he couldn't keep. When I was younger, I used to look up to him, idolize him really. Then as I got older, I realized that he was in a bad way. Trey couldn't change, because he didn't want to," Ryan said, a sob catching in his throat.

"I'm so sorry kid. I wish I could make it up to you," Sandy stared at his hands in shame.

"I'm scared Sandy," came Ryan's barely audible voice.

"I know…so am I," he replied.

Kirsten stared out of the window of the Suriak Rehabilitation Center. She had been holed up in her private bedroom for two days, which had allowed her a good amount of time to think. Aside from eating her meals in the cafeteria, and going to the initiation meeting for all of the new patients, Kirsten hadn't been very social. She didn't feel like "making new friends" or going to the group therapy meetings. Sandy and the boys had sent her there against her will. Kirsten would have much rather stayed in Newport and gone to counseling at home, with the support of her family.

She knew that they meant well and that they loved her, though she didn't feel as if her feelings had been considered at all, when they had made such a huge decision. She could just imagine the rumors that were floating around the city. She was most definitely the latest piece of gossip at the Newpsie meetings, and she hated it when people talked about her behind her back.

Kirsten wondered how the boys were holding up. She couldn't seem to stop worrying about them. Were they safe? Had they eaten dinner? Was there enough food in the refrigerator? She hadn't had a chance to stock the house with food before she left. Hell she hadn't even had time to pack her own bags before she was pushed out the door. Could Sandy handle the kids all by himself? Who was taking care of the Newport Group? Her dad would have certainly wanted her to take over, though someone had to keep things running while she was gone. The doctors—and even her own family had insisted that therapy would help her. If that was the case, then why did she feel so alone and afraid?

A/N: All right, so I know that not much happened in this chapter, however I promise you that the rest of this story is going to be filled with drama, drama, drama! The more reviews I get, the faster I update.