Summary: Ryan tells his father about Trey.

Background Info: The entire second season has happened. I made up the parts about Ryan's father (except for the armed robbery). I have no idea how long someone would get for an armed robbery, so bear with me please. This is not based on spoilers.

A/N: I just got back today (the 25th) and I spent like, half of the plane ride on this. As soon as I got home, I typed it up, so here it is. I would like to say that I used my imagination in creating the character of Paul (Ryan's father). For some reason, I have always imagined Paul as having robbed a toy store (I mentioned it in one of my other stories). Part of me wants to believe that life was better for Ryan before his dad got arrested, but the other part of me is pretty sure he was a dead-beat dad who beat his kids. Decide whatever you want, the way I chose to write him suits the story better. Not sure if you remember, but they lived in Fresno first, so that is why Paul is in jail in Fresno, not Chino. Okay, so I have already started on the next part, but no guarantees on when it will be up. Please please please please review! Reviews keep me going, so if you want more of this story, hit the button and leave a message. Any and ALL reviews welcome.

Shout outs-- J: Sorry this wasn't as soon. I just wanted to say that you review like crazy, and that is AWESOME. Thanks for reviewing like almost every story of mine. You rock!btw--where did you reada transcript of the first episode? forgottenletters: Again, not very soon. Next update should be much quicker. cjnew91: Glad you liked it. Hope you like this part as well. Pyrinsomniac: Why thank you. And I tried to make Dawn seem as motherly as possible, but that might change in the next chapter. It's what happens when you add some alcohol to an already unstable mother... ms8309: Here you go-- part two with their father.

Enjoy.

P.S.--Thank you to those of you who reviewed Moments Disappearing. However, I don't think I will be continuing it. I have seen more previews and I just don't know how to pick up the next chapter. Besides, I already started working on another story and that is just too many stories to be working on at one time. So thanks again and I'm sorry if you were enjoying it.

P.P.S.--Thank you to those of you who reviewed Dealing with the Attack...but I am putting it on a hiatus. I don't know if people usually do this with stories, but I am. I honestly have no idea where to go with it, and I don't want to get those few reader's hopes up that an update will come soon. I haven't even written a sentence for it yet. Make no mistake, I am not ending it, not yet anyway. I am just putting it on hold. I apologize for any...inconvience.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with the O.C. I do, however, own the story. Do not steal and do not copy.

Jail is a scary place.

Jail is a scary place to most people.

Jail was even scarier for Ryan than for most people.

His father was in jail for armed robbery. Ryan didn't remember much about what it was his father had done. Yet, he knew all the facts.

Paul had been high and drunk Christmas Eve. He had robbed a toy store, held the sales clerk at gun point and told her to pick out things that little boys would like. The customers lied on the cold floor, listening to his father go on and on about how this Christmas would be different for his family.

He was right. That Christmas had been different for their family. Instead of waking up to no presents, they had woken up to a loud knocking on the door and the sobs of their mother.

In addition to no presents.

Ryan had only visited his father once before they moved to Fresno. It had been eight years since he had seen his father last.

There had been a lot of scenarios played in his head about when he would see his father again.

Never had this one been played.

Sandy had offered to go with him, but Ryan had declined.

This was something he had to do by himself.

Dawn hadn't even offered to go with him.

"Just because you screwed up doesn't mean I should have to visit the bastard."

Ten minutes later, Ryan had left, not knowing and not caring where his mom went.

It was a long drive to Fresno. Ryan supposed he could have taken the bus, but he had needed the quiet of the Range Rover to think.

Two hours later, Ryan was pulling up in front of the jail and hadn't figured out what to say.

With a badge in hand, he entered the visiting area and sat down at an empty table.

A loud clang was heard and a brown haired man was escorted in,

"Paul! What are you doing out here, man?" a large Hispanic man called. "You never get visitors." Paul simply nodded his head in acknowledgement and sat down where the guard pointed to.

"Am I supposed to know you?" His gruff voice echoed in Ryan's head as he stared into the empty brown eyes of Paul.

Of course he wouldn't remember who Ryan was.

"No, no, I'm sorry," Ryan stammered, getting up quickly and tripping over his feet. "It was a mistake to come here."

"Sit down, Ryan." At the sound of his voice, Ryan stopped dead. How many times had he imagined his dad saying that?

Too many to count.

"My God, look at you," Paul said softly, eyeing his son as he took a seat again.

Ryan had forgotten to change before coming.

The usual wife beater was layered with the usual (but still expensive) button down shirt, not-so-cheap jeans, and the watch that before could have fed his family for a week.

Not because it was all that expensive but because his mother had often been too drunk to go to the grocery store.

"Damn. Your mother must have married rich, huh? Didn't know they made them rich in Chino."

"They don't."

Paul glanced over at Ryan, causing Ryan to nearly faint.

It was the exact same famous Ryan Atwood look he had.

"I don't live in Chino anymore."

"You don't live in Chino? What, you up and left your mother?" Paul couldn't say he would blame his son if he had.

"She left me." Take the boy of Newport and he reverts back to one or two word answers.

Another Ryan/Paul Atwood glare and Ryan almost fell over.

It was like looking in a mirror.

Ryan proceeded to explain about stealing a car, getting arrested, blah, blah, blah.

It was all routine, really.

"So if you got your 'happy every-after', why the hell are you here?" Paul asked when Ryan was done. "Don't tell me you stopped by just to gloat."

"No, of course not," Ryan answered hastily.

He wished that was why he was here.

"I…I came because of Trey."

Paul gave another sideways glance, but this time Ryan had expected it and was only mildly surprised.

"I thought you said he was in jail."

Once again, Ryan proceeded to tell the second half of the story, the part he had told his mother earlier that day.

As Ryan talked, he watched as the man in front of him morphed into the father he remembered.

"So you killed him," Paul stated simply when Ryan was all done.

Ryan hung his head.

"It wasn't me who actually pulled the trigger, Dad," he said lamely.

"Oh, right, sorry. So you got him killed."

"Um…yeah."

"God dammit, Ryan. You don't visit for eight years, and the only reason you do visit is to tell me you went and murdered your brother? God dammit."

Paul was breathing hard and there was a fire in his eyes.

Ryan recognized that, had this exchange happened in private, punches would have accented his father's words.

"This girl, your murderer girlfriend, you still with her?"

Ryan glanced over at Paul, scaring him shitless.

His son had his stare.

"What the hell, Ryan?" Paul asked, shaking his head. "Is the sex really that good?"

"Dad, it has nothing to do with that! It's not like that at all, okay?" Ryan did not want to have to go through this with his father.

The sex talk was just a few years too late.

"That good, huh? You can always tell…"

"Dad, listen to me. I've never," Ryan dropped his voice, "slept with her."

Paul gaped at Ryan.

"You've had this girlfriend for two years and you've never once slept with her?

"No."

"But, I mean, you have…right?"

This question triggered his memory back to when he and Marissa had first started dating. Seth had asked the exact same question.

Just like he had then, Ryan glanced quickly at his dad.

"So then why the hell are you still with her? Don't tell me it's because you 'love her'."

Ryan shrugged, not sure of how Paul would react.

"Love, Ryan? Damn, what did they do you in Newport?" Paul sniggered.

Ryan sighed, knowing it wasn't worth it to explain everything. He knew Paul would never understand.

"What does your mother think of this?"

"Of what? Me and Marissa?"

Paul nodded and Ryan gulped.

"She doesn't know."

"You have to tell her, Ry."

"It's none of her business."

"She'll make it her business," Paul scoffed.

Ryan just glared and he switched subjects.

"When's the funeral?"

"Dunno. They still have his body, so it could be a while," Ryan answered. There was a pause, and then he dared to ask what was on his mind. "Why do you care?"

"He was my son, Ryan," Paul replied through gritted teeth.

"Oh, right, because that meant so much nine years ago."

"I was trying to give you guys a good Christmas."

"A good Christmas?" Ryan asked incredulously. "Dad, people who give their kids a 'good Christmas' don't do it by robbing a toy store. You know what my perfect Christmas always was? What I envisioned that night before falling asleep? A mom who wasn't drunk, a dad who wasn't high, an actual Christmas tree, and a hot meal."

He shook his head sadly.

"I knew I wouldn't get any of these things before I went to sleep, but with some little kid naivety, I still dreamt about it. I guess I sort of got what I wished for. Mom wasn't drunk, just hysterical; you weren't on a new high; the police station had a Christmas tree; and we got a lukewarm meal from the cafeteria."

"I said I was sorry."

"Me too, Dad. I'm sorry for killing the son you hit more often and for only visiting you a couple of times." Ryan clenched his hands and made a move to get up. "I have to go. It's going to be dark soon."

"Ryan, I really am sorry. I screwed up and you had to pay for it. Guess that's just the Atwood luck."

"Yeah, I guess," Ryan said noncommittally.

He knew full well that the Atwood luck was just some excuse for their bad decisions.

Ryan was almost to the door when Paul spoke up again.

"Tell your mother…tell her I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Everything."