A/N: Wow, it's been forever. Okay, so two weeks, but still, far too long. I'm really sorry for those of you who want to kill me right now for taking so long to update, but you should know that my leave drove me to near insanity, as well. But back I am, and this chapter should be a good one. I want to mention one thing to clear up some confusion first: in chapter three Sandy told Seth to go home and get to bed at a "decent hour" because he had school the next day, right? Wrong. Obviously school is out because it is summer, like I mentioned. That just proves how messed up Sandy is right now. Understand? Ok, cool. Good catch, raindrops falling. Okay, cheers!


FADING – Chapter Five

The smell was what hit him first. An unfamiliar, unwelcoming sterile, chemical-like smell that turned his stomach and made him cringe. Soon he became aware of the harsh mercury lights that were beaming down on his closed eyelids from overhead, taunting him into consciousness. As he moved his hand across the surface of the bed he was met with yet another reminder that he was not at home; the sheets were scratchy and stiff, and the mattress he lay on was barely wide enough to fit him comfortably.

Definitely not home.

Being a kid from Chino, Ryan had never thought that he would ever be lucky enough to live the kind of life the Cohens had. Once he had moved in with them he had promised himself that he would not allow himself to get used to the luxuries he had fallen into, and to never forget that at any minute he could be back to his old life. And yet after just one year of living in their mansion and the perfect world of Newport Beach, Ryan found himself longing for the poolhouse. He craved the queen-sized mattress with Egyptian cotton sheets that smelled like expensive fabric softener that even after all this time he still felt uncomfortable about letting Rosa wash for him. He missed the sunlight that would seep in and wake him up in the morning through his wall of floor to ceiling windows. He wanted to go about his morning routine of bagels and coffee in the kitchen, listening to Seth's easy banter and talk to Sandy about school, to tease Kirsten about yogalates.

"Ryan, honey, are you awake?" Kirsten's gentle voice swept over him as he felt a soft hand stroke his forearm.

Crap. Now he would have to open his eyes. He could no longer pretend that he was in the poolhouse, that any minute his alarm would go off and he would get up. He couldn't imagine that nothing was wrong. He couldn't pretend that he didn't have cancer.

Cancer. There was that word again.

Feeling guilty for making Kirsten worry, Ryan pried his eyes open and squinted under the brightness of the lights shining in his eyes. After a few moments his vision cleared and the day became clear; he was still in the hospital, Kirsten was hovering over him worriedly, and it hadn't been a dream.

Kirsten smiled warmly. "Morning, sweetie."

"Morning." Ryan replied, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked.

She seemed grateful for the light conversation. "It's almost nine. I just woke up a few minutes ago and found a note Sandy left." Kirsten explained, holding up a piece of paper from her lap with Sandy's familiar scrawl on it. "He went home to shower and get us some changes in clothes. We talked to the nurse and decided you'd be much more comfortable in your own things. And he needed check on Seth."

At the mention of his foster brother's name, Ryan's heart quickened and he tried to sit up. "Seth? Is Sandy going to tell him? Does he already know? Is he…" Ryan trailed off as a stab of pain tore across his chest, momentarily knocking the breath out of his lungs.

Kirsten hurried to his side and helped him lie back down. "Take it easy, honey." She said softly, stroking his hair back away from his face. "Deep breaths are going to hurt. Take it slow, Ryan. Nice and easy." She soothed.

"Ow." Ryan muttered as he took a couple of slow, shallow breaths, waiting for the pain to abate. "I forgot about that."

Smiling, Kirsten adjusted his pillows behind his head. "If you want to sit up I can raise the head of the bed for you." She suggested, and at Ryan's nod she pushed a button by his arm and slowly the bed inclined. "Better?" She asked helpfully.

Ryan nodded. He couldn't help but notice that Kirsten had avoided his question, and he reached out to touch her hand, catching her attention. "Seth?" He reminded her.

"Oh, right." She said hurriedly. "Well, we haven't told him anything yet, honey." She explained gently.

With another nod, Ryan focused his eyes on his hands. He didn't know whether he should be grateful or upset. "Is Sandy bringing him here?"

Kirsten shrugged. "Well, you know Seth. I'm sure he'll refuse to stay behind. He'd probably try to smuggle himself into Sandy's duffel bag if he left without him." After a moment she met his eyes and saw the fear he couldn't hide. Kirsten reached for his hand. "Ryan, if you don't feel ready to talk to Seth, I'll call Sandy right now and he can stay at home. I'm sure Seth would understand."

Ryan shook his head. "No, he should be here. I want him here." He said quickly, swallowing hard. "It's just…how am I going to tell him?" He wondered aloud, a lump forming in his throat.

Kirsten squeezed his hand. "Ryan, we can tell him if you don't want to." She suggested, rubbing his arm soothingly.

"No, no. Thanks, but it has to come from me." He insisted sighing softly. "I just have to figure out how." Ryan said quietly, more to himself than to Kirsten. His eyes glazed over and he stared at the wall, deep in thought, looking lost.

Her eyes filled with tears which Kirsten quickly blinked away. The last thing Ryan needed right now was to see her crying again. He had enough to worry about at the moment. But the helplessly sad tone his voice had taken on, the look of fear in his eyes, and the strength and bravery he tried to convey made her heart break. "Ryan…" Kirsten said softly, her voice cracking slightly. She waited until he met her eyes before she spoke, her hand unconsciously squeezing his. "You know that everything is going to be okay…right?"

Ryan looked back at her and tried to smile. His eyes told her that he was afraid, but also held so much trust that Kirsten felt her heart skip a beat. After a moment he nodded. "Right." He said unconvincingly.

With that Kirsten stood and bent over his bed, sweeping his bangs off his forehead and kissing him gently. "I'm going to go call my Dad and let him know that I won't be in today." She said taking her cellphone out of her purse and heading towards the door. "I'll be right outside, okay? I'll only be a minute."

Nodding absently, Ryan fingered the hem of his blanket. As Kirsten turned to leave the room, he called after her suddenly. "Kirsten." He said, hating how helpless his voice sounded.

Kirsten turned and rushed back to the bed. "What is it, honey?" She asked worriedly.

"Could you…call Sandy please?" He asked softly. "And ask him if he wouldn't mind bringing Marissa, too?" Ryan requested, dark blue eyes traveling up from his fidgeting hands to rest on Kirsten's sympathetic expression.

Plastering a smile onto her face, Kirsten forced herself to nod. "Of course."

Once she was gone, Ryan leaned back into his pillows and covered his face with his hands. He was kidding himself when he tried to believe that some privacy felt nice for the first time in a few days. Being alone meant silence, and silence allowed his thoughts to be amplified, murmuring loudly in his ears and reminding him that maybe this time things wouldn't work out in the end.


Sandy found himself taking a deep, steadying breath in preparation as he stood outside the front door of his house. Why, he wasn't quite sure. The car ride from the hospital had been an out of body experience, an eerily silent fifteen minute drive in which time Sandy Cohen had not had a single thought. Sure, he had mused quietly about work, what the waves would look like the next time he went surfing, even about what television shows would be on that evening. But not for a single second had he allowed himself to think about what he had left behind at the hospital. He hadn't thought about how nervous and sad his wife had looked even in her sleep as he left. He didn't question the news that had been like a punch in the stomach about Ryan's illness the night before. He certainly didn't let himself think about how scared his foster son had been, how strong he had been trying to act, or how Sandy had rocked him to sleep, crying and shaking in his arms.

He couldn't think about any of that.

After one last steeling moment, Sandy inserted his key and turned the knob, walking into the foyer with what he hoped was with his usual cheerfulness. At the sound of the slamming door, Seth came bounding down the stairs and nearly bowled Sandy over.

"How is Ryan? Is everything okay? Can he come home today?" He asked, speaking a mile a minute, his face drawn with worry and relief at the sight of his father.

Sandy put two steadying hands on his son's shoulders. "One thing at a time, Seth." He begged, already maneuvering through the living room and weaving his way to the kitchen where he found an already brewed cup of coffee. Gratefully he poured himself a cup and took a long sip. French Roast was a blissful change from the sludge he had been drinking from the hospital cafeteria. Seth had followed him in and was waiting a response anxiously. "Ryan is still at the hospital. The doctors need him to stay a little longer, son, until they're sure that everything is okay." Sandy hated lying to his son. But if he couldn't get his mind to wrap around the concept of cancer, Sandy knew his mouth would not cooperate, either.

For a moment Seth looked unsure, but after a couple seconds passed his features softened and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay." He said slowly. "My God, I don't think I slept at all last night. I mean, between worrying about what the hell was going on with you guys at the hospital, and Marissa calling every five minutes wanting an update. Plus then I'd have to deal with her talking a mile a minute because I didn't know what to tell her, because for some reason, one of my parents when postal on me last night and sent me home without so much as a phone call. God, that girl can be a chatter box." He sighed, rubbing his forehead dramatically.

Sandy smirked. "It's annoying, isn't it?"

"You have no idea." Seth moaned. "So, what's the drill? You're refueling; gathering rations, then we return to infirmary and bust Ryan?" He asked hopefully.

Swallowing hard, Sandy shook his head. "Actually, no, son. Ryan has to stay for a little while longer." He said, watching as Seth's face fell. "I just came home to grab a shower and pack your mother and I some extra clothes."

Seth frowned. "What? How much longer?" He asked worriedly. "Ryan is okay, isn't he, Dad?" he asked, an edge of panic creeping into his voice.

"We don't know anything yet, Seth. I'm not sure how much longer he'll have to stay, but it shouldn't be for more than a day or so." Sandy tried to convince him. Honestly he had no idea how long Ryan would have to stay at the hospital, and frankly, he didn't want to think about it. A day or so sounded like a nice answer. "But I don't want to leave Ryan and your mother alone much longer, so I'm going to hop into the shower and pack a duffel bag. Can you go to the poolhouse and pack Ryan some things too?"

Sandy could see the wheels in Seth's head turning, trying to comprehend this new information. Ryan was sick, and it was definitely becoming more complicated than a cut finger. He ran hand through his unruly curls. "Um, yeah. Sure." He mumbled. "What things does he need?" Seth asked, trying to be helpful.

Already mounting the stairs, Sandy shrugged. "Sweatpants, wife beaters, whatever he's usually comfortable in. And a toothbrush, things like that." He added as an afterthought. "I want to be ready to leave in a half hour, so go on. I'll see you in a minute." With that, he disappeared.

Left standing stunned in the hallway, Seth's mind was spinning. What was going on? How could strong, independent Ryan go from his usual self one minute to staying overnight in the hospital the next? Fear churned in his stomach, but Seth forced his legs to move and he walked outside from the kitchen to the poolhouse.

Within minutes he had packed a backpack full of ratty sweats that Ryan always wore and plenty of his trademark white tanktops, along with the necessary toiletries. After he was done he found himself sitting down on Ryan's bed and gazing around the empty room longingly. It didn't feel the same without his brother there, and he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right.

With the sudden urge to hear Summer's voice, Seth picked up the phone from beside the bed and dialed the number he knew by heart. Just the sound of her "hello" calmed his frayed nerves. "Hey. It's me."

"Cohen, what a surprise." Summer said teasingly. "How's Chino?"

Seth sighed. "Not so good, I guess."

"Really, what's wrong? Let me talk to him."

"Would if I could, but he's not here." Seth sighed, flopping back onto the mattress. "He's still in the hospital."

Summer hesitated in surprise. "What? Why?" She asked worriedly.

"I don't know the answer to that one, either."

"Well what do you know, Cohen?" Summer asked quickly. "This is serious, isn't it?" By the sound of her voice Seth could tell she was biting her lip in a way he usually found both endearing and sexy. Now it just made him nervous.

Seth nodded to himself. "I guess so. My Dad is a wreck, Mom hasn't left Ryan's side, and nobody seems to want to tell me anything." He stared at the ceiling. "Something is definitely wrong, Summer. I don't know what it is, but I can't shake this feeling. Something is definitely wrong." He repeated.

There was a pause on the other end. "Want me to come with you to the hospital, Cohen?" Summer asked gently.

"Yeah…yeah, I really do." He replied honestly.

"Come pick me up on your way." She said. "And Seth? Chino is going to be fine. I promise."

Seth nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you soon." With that he hung up.

"Was that Summer on the phone?" Came his father's voice from the doorway.

Jumping nearly a foot in the air, Seth glared at his Dad standing quietly at the entrance to the poolhouse watching him thoughtfully. "Dad! Don't sneak up on me like that, you just took ten years off my precious life!" Placing a hand over his chest, he waited for his heartbeat to return to normal. "It's a good thing we're going to the hospital, I just had a minor heart attack." He moaned.

Sandy ignored him. "You get everything all packed for Ryan?" He asked, pointing to the backpack beside his son on the bed.

"Yeah." Seth replied. "I've got all the necessities, including his IPod and a few CD's from yours truly that will work their healing magic." He stood and slung the bag onto his back, heading out the door.

Sandy stopped him. "One more thing. I just got a call from Kirsten, Ryan has a request." He explained.

Seth listened attentively. "Yeah? Shoot."

"Give Marissa a call." Sandy told him. "He wants to see you both."


Seth had been watching his foster brother through the glass window in the hallway for nearly three minutes, unable to look away. When he had left the night before Ryan had been unhappy, miserable maybe, at having to stay overnight in the hospital. But now as he watched him sleeping, propped up on several pillows, Ryan just looked sick. He was pale, dark circles ringed his eyes, evidence of a sleepless night. All in all, it didn't look like the Ryan he knew that punched water polo players and burned down model homes.

"What happened?" Marissa asked from beside him, voicing his thoughts. "Last night he was fine, now he looks like…" Her voice trailed off, grasping for words.

"Death warmed over." Seth muttered, still studying the boy's face. "Mom, what the hell is going on?" He asked, turning from the glass for the first time to face his mother, who was sipping from a cup of coffee on a chair against the wall.

Kirsten had stepped out of the room to greet Ryan's visitors and change into a fresh set of clothes that Sandy had brought from home. "Seth, Ryan didn't get very much sleep last night." She explained quietly. "One of the tests they did was very painful, and we were up most of the night with him. He's very tired."

Pushing her hair behind her ears, Marissa glanced at Ryan one more time. "Can we go in and see him?" She asked, unable to hide her concern.

With an apologetic smile, Kirsten shook her head. "I don't think so, honey." She said reluctantly. "Ryan needs his rest. As soon as he wakes up I'm sure he'll want to see you, but right now he needs to sleep." She told them, seeing their faces fall.

Sandy sat down beside his wife. "Kirsten, they need to see him before the doctor comes by, anyway." He reminded her gently. Then more quietly, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Come on, hon. Ryan said he wanted to do this himself. We can at least give him that."

After a moment, Kirsten reluctantly nodded and looked up at her son and his friends. "I guess a few minutes won't hurt." She said, rising and heading to the door. "But…give me a moment with him. I just want to tell him you're here." She requested, and at their nods she entered the hospital room, shutting the door behind her.

Walking up to the bed, she placed a hand on Ryan's forehead and checked for fever. Thankfully, it had lowered slightly since the morning. Gently she ran her fingers through his hair and lightly stroked his cheek. "Ryan. Sweetie, wake up." She whispered.

With a small moan, Ryan turned his head into her touch. "…Time is it?" He mumbled, confused. Without opening his eyes, he yawned and stretched as much as his small bed and sore chest would allow.

Kirsten smiled. "It's twelve thirty, sweetheart. In the afternoon." She told him. "You have some visitors, Ryan."

Licking his lips, Ryan sighed. "Yeah?" He asked.

"Uh huh. They're waiting just outside." Kirsten explained. Ryan's eyes remained shut and he seemed to want to fall back asleep, but Kirsten touched his cheek with the back of her fingers and coaxed him awake. "Open your eyes, Ryan. Look out the window."

After a moment Ryan's eyes fluttered open and two very sleepy blue eyes glanced briefly at Kirsten before looking out into the hall. When he saw Seth, Marissa, and Summer smiling back at him hesitantly, he managed a grin of his own and a small wave. "Guess it's time to face the music…" He said softly. "Right?" He asked, turning his gaze to Kirsten.

Her eyes filling with tears. Kirsten reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. "Ryan, you don't have to do this yourself, honey." She whispered.

Ryan nodded. "Yes I do." He replied, keeping his voice steady and his expression firm. "You can let them in."

Taking a deep breath, Kirsten rose from the bed and kissed his forehead quickly before walking to the door. Absently, she wished she had Ryan's courage. God knows that inside, she was falling apart.


A/N: Long I know, but I had to make up for lost time. I'll leave it here and you can wait a BRIEF time before reading the next chapter. Please r/r! I hope you enjoyed it.

Vancouverite